Ya know what I love about Logan’s character that I don’t think we talk enough about?? The fact that he doesn’t bash modern slang terms. Like so many times the smart character™ is like “I’m too educated to use your silly new “words” because they’re all made up,” but Thomas (and/or Joan) decided not to do that?? Logan knows that language is fluid and ever changing and not only respects them but tries to learn them too. Even though he struggles to use them he wants to know how to because he’s Logic and he wants learn and expand his knowledge instead of keeping it steadfast.
If we must be dominated by a single genre in film, I’m glad it’s the superhero genre because of how flexible it is.
Just this year so far, we’ve had 5 movies. 5 MOVIES OF ONE GENRE IN ONE YEAR! But those 5 movies are:
a LEGO style animated comedy/parody
an action drama that also acts as a modern Western
a sci-fi action comedy
a fantasy/war movie
a high school action comedy.
All of which are technically in the same genre, but they still have their own characters, style, tone, and themes. Even the two which are made by the same studio in the same universe are drastically different from each other.
As long as they keep up this level of quality and variety, superhero fatigue shouldn’t kick in for a long time.
Virgil had a
notebook. A kind of worn out, once black
notebook with purple pen scratches all across the front. The others rarely got to see this notebook,
but they were well aware of its existence.
For the most part, no one dared to ask what it was for or if they could
see it. No one, not even Patton, was
curious enough to risk the little bit of trust and confidence building between
them and the anxious side.
That is…until Virgil
got more confident and trusted them more.
The notebook made
its way out of his room more and more, finding its way onto the coffee table,
dining table, the counters, and the sofa much more often. Every now and then one of them would catch
Virgil with his knees to his chest scribbling away in the book, and just seeing it drove them crazy.
To say that Logan
wasn’t dying to know what was in the book would have been the biggest lie ever
told in the mind palace. As the logical
side, he was also the side that enjoyed learning the most. Learning, observing…dying of curiosity. Secrets
were not his thing. They were not his “jam.” What was
his “jam” was figuring out why Virgil hid the notebook when he was using it.
And now, he had an
“Be right back,”
Virgil mumbled. The anxious side hopped
up from his spot on the other end of the sofa and dragged his notebook into his
spot. Logan watched him leave and round
the corner to his room, and it didn’t take long for all of that curiosity to
come rushing to the forefront of his mind.
What could be in
this mysterious notebook? Drawings? Logan thought of all the possibilities for
Virgil Drawings. From a Tim Burton-esque
style all the way down to an Invader Zim style.
Mainly monsters or gore…or possibly he’d be full of surprises and fill
the notebook with drawings that calmed him?
Kittens, puppies, maybe a few koalas or red pandas? Or maybe he was a classic early 2000s emo
child and filled his notebook with stitched-up, bandaged-up, and bleeding
Perhaps the notebook
contained his thoughts. What a trip that
would be. Thoughts and analyses of ever
scenario Thomas encountered. It’d
probably be a mish-mash and assorted lists of words indecipherable to anyone
But then…Virgil had
said before that he wrote. Sonnets, at
least. Could this notebook be his
Logan caught his
hand gravitating toward the book, and he snatched the offending digits back
against his chest. No, he couldn’t. He would not be the first to break. Virgil would share the contents of the book
when he felt he was ready, and Logan would just have to respect that.
…But he wouldn’t
even know if Logan took a quick peak just to see what Virgil used the notebook
…But that would
still be abusing Virgil’s trust. He left
the book there out of trust.
“I’m back,” Virgil
announced, throwing himself down on top of the book. He pulled it back out from underneath himself
and opened it up to wherever he’d left off.
“Needed a different blue.”