section 2 - patience intro

2
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Patience was sitting on the couch. The TV was on, but she wasn't paying attention to Ben Heck or the detailed electronics repair process he was outlining and demonstrating for the viewers. Patience's sepia eyes were roaming this way and that over the patterns of the wood panelling, experiencing a rare feeling of waywardness lost as she was in her dim reverie.

Patience had tried so hard to force herself to be an organized person. And the terrible, beautiful thing about it, is that it worked, but it was never enough. Outside her bubble of meticulous time management, her ardently enforced grids and lists that wrought stability to her life and to a lesser extent the microcosm of her life with her closest friends, havoc ran freely, untrammeled. And Patience knew her foolish brain was borne of that havoc and that it sought to turn always to its lacksadaisical roots. But Patience knew her struggle was noble. Her vigilance was the glue that held her friends together, even after many years which occasionally brought strife and sometimes brought gut-wrenching awkwardness.

At this point in her life, Patience had long been at peace with the fact that she had consciously and artificially molded herself into a competent person and that her friends had done this with markedly less success and commitment than her. In-bubble stuff was more or less running smoothly. What Patience was fretting and fidgeting over at the moment, was her world.

Yeah, what about it...

Patience was much less likely than the morose Morgan or that distracted daydreamer Serpent Tina to lose herself in emotive flights of fancy over the extinction of sentience and distant heat death looming. It's not that she didn't feel the same way about it, just that her emotions felt like another element among many elements to put into its proper place in the process of dealing with a large circumstantial mess. And that was sort of how she viewed it. The looming end of the world that could be confronted with just some organizing and coordination and structure. An issue that can be resolved by planning and labor just like, a messy house or broken machine can.

She wasn't wrong, and she knew she wasn't, but she also knew correctly that there was more that she wasn't seeing... and reflecting on this too much always caused the first inklings of despair to creep in...

But before she could sink any deeper into this mental mire, a heavy flop onto the count startled her out of reverie. She turned around and met heavily dilated ice blue eyes, and a painted mouth which parted slightly as if struck by a sudden awe...

MORGAN: mm... pashenche...

Oh, lordy. Was she really... Yep. She was deep into her cups. Her uh. Little throwaway plastic cups that have measuring lines on the side and get almost too gross and sticky to use from the first time that you drink from them.

MORGAN: paschensh... patience... hey... am i still...
MORGAN: am i still an alive strong thing
MORGAN: uhhhffff
MORGAN: patience
::PATIENCE skewed her head and observed MORGAN's state. It wasn't just the drugs. Her friend, usually bacchanalian by this point in her syrup consumption, seemed lethargic and distraught::
PATIENCE: Yes. You are alive, Morgan, and oh so strong, and still very much a thing.
::MORGAN pushed herself up a little, shaking herself to try and awaken herself, so that she could look into PATIENCE's eyes with a bit of intent in her gaze::
MORGAN: dont pascheronize... patronize... me. im having a very bad Crisis and i need you're comforts
PATIENCE: Oh. I could sort of tell. You don't seem your usual ebullient, weirdly wasted self.
PATIENCE: Why? What has put you in a state of crisis?
MORGAN: its like... ok... but what about... 'but what about my world', right
PATIENCE: Your world?
MORGAN: yeah your world...
MORGAN: like or uhh
MORGAN: ourrrr... world?
MORGAN: what about our World pantience
MORGAN: ittttssszzzz FUCKED
PATIENCE: Fucked. Hmm. Ok. I think I see what you're getting at here.
::PATIENCE shifted in her seat, moving her body sideways and pulling her knees up a little, so that she could cozy up on the couch and look towards MORGAN a little more directly. She wasn't expecting a scintillating intellectual conversation with MORGAN being the way she was right now, but something about the fact that she and MORGAN were serendipitously pondering the same sort of thing gave her a warm feeling inside::
PATIENCE: So your worries stem from the fact that, certain historical forces that are ongoing in their effects are careening our biosphere off the path of stability and threatening human extinction? Anthropogenic climate change being one of them, but other environmental catastrophes being similar, and the threat of nuclear winter also looming should the flimsy stability of imperialist "world order" be threatened?
PATIENCE: That sort of thing?
::MORGAN throws up her hands theatrically, as if to express, "Yeah that's what I'm sayin' here!"::
MORGAN: yes thats enzantly
MORGAN: exactly
MORGAN: what i am talking about!!! we are FUCKED
MORGAN: and its noooot
MORGAN: its not faaaaair
MORGAN: ugh
PATIENCE: Hm. Okay.
PATIENCE: I think I can help you with this. And maybe help myself, too.
::PATIENCE folds her hands, glances down at them, and then looks back up at MORGAN, this time offering a soft, magnanimous smile::
PATIENCE: Please understand, I'm right here with you. I think about this sort of thing all the time, Morgan...
MORGAN: yeah? i figured maybe it was too emoisonal
MORGAN: urrgh. e. mo. tion. al
MORGAN: for you
PATIENCE: Not at all. My composed bearing is, if anything, itself an emotional reaction to the situations that I face.
PATIENCE: Including this situation.
PATIENCE: Now, supposing I posit an alternative course of events to the ones you outline here.
PATIENCE: Wherein a different set of choices are made.
PATIENCE: Where bold collective steps are taken to mitigate climate change, ensure responsible stewardship of our planet's resources, thwart the imperialist grip on our planet and obviate the need for and the physical presence of nuclear weapons...
PATIENCE: These might seem somewhat obvious, but they are plausible steps to be taken, aren't they?
PATIENCE: And in such a scenario, our species survival might be guaranteed indefinitely, mightn't it?
::MORGAN seems to express discomfort with this, and stares down at her hands, softly clenching and unclenching them as if beginning to be wracked again by tension::
MORGAN: nooo like i mean
MORGAN: youre not Wrong per say
MORGAN: but like it cannot be all so simple like your saying
MORGAN: this bold collective steps you speak of are like
MORGAN: not little actions of cleaning or uh. object motion that your hands can do to fix a problem
MORGAN: the moving parts are not like metal car bits or whatever
MORGAN: theyre people
MORGAN: how can we move them when other forces and there own whims of desire of jerking them this way and that
MORGAN: we have no power over them thats greater than like
MORGAN: fuckin
MORGAN: uhhhh
MORGAN: profit motive or patriarchy or racism or the threat of lost survival
::MORGAN's hands continue their agitated fidgeting, but now she looks back up and PATIENCE's dark eyes meet hers. Her expression is distraught, and PATIENCE can see that MORGAN's sincere feelings have well overridden the toxic high she was previously enthralled by::
PATIENCE: I... I know that, Morgan. I just wanted to...
PATIENCE: Speak in terms of what's possible, you know?
PATIENCE: Just because we can't do this all on our own, doesn't mean...
::Immediately at this statement, MORGAN's hands clench tightly, and her jaw clenches a little too. PATIENCE is taken aback::
MORGAN: doesnt mean what!!!
MORGAN: we cant do it so we just pray that peoples enforced ignorance disappears on its own?
MORGAN: hope that maybe things get so bad that people just take up arms spontaneously?
MORGAN: so we just give up?
PATIENCE: No. That's not--
MORGAN: and you know i feel like thatd be even WORSE somehow
MORGAN: b/c who knows what spontaneous form that could take
MORGAN: maybe we just fix global whatever and thats it
MORGAN: and human life just continues indefinitely the way it is
MORGAN: with all the abuse and killing and domination and--
PATIENCE: That's not what I'm saying. And don't accuse me of saying that.
PATIENCE: Because you should know me better than that and know that...
PATIENCE: That my optimism isn't something so lightly taken.
PATIENCE: And that my moral convictions are every bit as substantial and impassioned as yours.
::Now MORGAN's expression has softened again, and an overhanging guilt creeps in. There is a slight scowl in PATIENCE's expression, but this is slowly dissipating as she recognizes the contrition on her face.::
PATIENCE: If we want to succeed, we can't let panic take us.
PATIENCE: We need to remember that people have come before us, and faced desperation and catastrophe in their own lives.
PATIENCE: And that against all odds, some of our predecessors were able to secure victory.
PATIENCE: This didn't happen in a day... Or even in a matter of a few years.
PATIENCE: They bided their time. Transmitted their message. Looked for opportunities to band together and act.
PATIENCE: We must heed their example, mustn't we?
PATIENCE: We need to fight our own personal battles, prepare ourselves, and seize opportunities when they arise.
PATIENCE: I don't know exactly how it will look... You criticize me correctly in this regard.
PATIENCE: But I know we'll spot that chance when it appears, and that we could have a hand in changing everything.
::PATIENCE now regards MORGAN serenely, her lips drawn up into a gentle smile. MORGAN still looks a little lost, a little guilty from earlier... she's looking down and rubbing her hands in lingering anxiety... but PATIENCE feels no accusatory ire, and simply admires MORGAN's passion, and her depth of feeling, and her desire to bring an end to that which must be ended.::
MORGAN: ok yeah
MORGAN: i geuss even ppl standing at the end of the world have to like
MORGAN: live our lives and continue growing as ppl tho
MORGAN: im like
MORGAN: rly sorry patience
MORGAN: i think you stopped me in like the beginning stages of a bigass meltdown
PATIENCE: Maybe so. But I don't feel inclined to judge you.
PATIENCE: We share the same emotions on this topic. I simply want to show you another, more constructive way of handling them.
MORGAN: ok yea
MORGAN: ill keep on like
MORGAN: honing my shit and studying the good stuff
MORGAN: when the time really comes well fight for our world side by side yeah
::PATIENCE, a little unaccustomed to physical displays of emotion, clumsily pats MORGAN's arm, like "attagirl!" MORGAN's anxious frown has subsided to a calm smile and she meets this gesture with gratitude, grabbing PATIENCE by the hand exactly the way Arnold Schwarzenegger and Carl Weathers do when they greet each other in Predator (1987). PATIENCE responds to this unique affectionate gesture with surprise and gratitude::
PATIENCE: Yeah. We will. We absolutely will.
PATIENCE: Now, seeing as we aren't going to change the world in the course of one night...
PATIENCE: Would you like to spend some time with me instead of stumbling back to your chamber of sulking?
PATIENCE: I've got Ben Heck on...
MORGAN: yea
MORGAN: i would extremely like to do that, yes
MORGAN: that guy is so good at saying stuff about electronics
PATIENCE: Extremely so.

The evening progresses, and though the question's been posed, "But what about your world?" has yet to be fully answered. Life would have to go on in the meantime. Patience would help ease Morgan back into her state of logy sobriety, Serpent Tina hadn't even come home from her night shift. And more distantly, another friend, unknowingly, was waiting to appear... to guide them in their uncertainty and to have her wounds salved in exchange, to serve as a final piece in their jigsaw, the mortar that binds their mosaic. But for now, two special friends would enjoy the magic of the night together, here on the precipice of the end of the world.

{{{I'm bracketing off this next section because I don't know if I really want it to be part of the story proper. It feels like kind of an indulgence, but also like it might work in some context. So I'm gonna keep it at the bottom of the story just in case it fits, here or elsewhere.}}}

{{{and so she wrote a poem of warning for herself. Patience loved poems.

"
DEMON
Ah, yes... It would be so easy...
Relax, Patience. And take a breather...
Fretting, frowning... won't you cease these?...
Give yourself away... to ruinous leisure.

PATIENCE
Away, you demon. I know your kind,
And I've seen the fate of those you tempt.
But I've prayed to her for presence of mind,
And she granted me guile, to fiend-temptings preempt.

She taught me thus:
If the sauce is left overlong in the pot,
later you'll battle with hard sauce and rot.
You'll do more work and it'll be your fault for waiting.

If you do not pay heed that time quickly elapses,
helplessly watch as the planned-for collapses!
Control the flow of your own time and you'll find you have enough of it, ignore it and it'll slip through your fingers like fine sand.

If the grime's not gotten with quickness,
your lover'll be taken by sickness!
Would you kill your girlfriend just because you'd rather do what was fun? Really, Patience? Is that the kind of person you want to be?

If IDLENESS takes you and the filth goes neglected,
your family will die. By SLOTH were they infected!
Literally everyone will die, Patience. Why are you being so LAZY? Why are you writing this weird poem instead of applying to schools? Eff you, do it! Do it! Do it do it do it do it do it!!!!!! Argh! Okay!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

...well, that was an early draft, but maybe a relevant peek into Patience's psyche. The completed version, with the rhyming and meter tightened up and reflecting a much healthier reconciliation with her unhealthy instincts towards distraction, occupies a framed position of honor above Patience's admirable deskspace.

So she had, yes, a clean desk in a well-lit room, homely-feeling but uncluttered. She had }}}