PILGRIM!

DUDE,    WHAT    DO   YOU   KNOW     ABOUT     RAMONA     FLOWERS?           [  . . .  ]           you’ll    pay    for    your    crimes    against       humanity,       you       cocky         cock.     wait,   we’re    fighting   over     ramona?         ───────      &   if    i    peed    my       pants,       would      you       pretend         i         just         got         wet         in         the         rain?        sweet,         coins!           [  . . .  ]             𝚅𝚂        𝚃𝙷𝙴          𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐿𝐷.  

VSWRLD!           an        extremely        private        blog        for       scott       pilgrim        from        scott       pilgrim       vs       the       world.           chained           by           elliot           (           THEY           +           HE           ).          follows           the           canon           of           the       comic       books       with       a       few       changes       as       outlined       in       my       rules..      

FLASHBACK’S FLASHBACK:   why is mara still having this conversation?  because,  if she’s the movie star she boasts to be,  she’s surely got a pile of party invites waiting in her inbox,  joints swankier than this in somewhere like malibu with with a line wrapped around their palm tree-lined block.  surely a more glamorous life awaits in california   (     FLASHBACK ON FLASHBACK:  is mara really a movie star?  what’s the criteria these days?  if it’s an active filmography,  she can point to the bit part she filmed earlier this year,  some one-line cameo she shot for a friend.  is it a working manager?  then she can shift the blame to jack.  maybe it takes more to be a star,  an illusion of permanence and purpose and respect   –   ah,  we’ve flashed too far.  back to some suspension of disbelief,  please     ).    ❝  oh my god,  scott,  that’s not the point!  ❞    god help her if she knows what is,  but she’ll get there,  frayed thought at a time.    ❝  i don’t need your approval.  now,  would i like your support,  as a friend and as someone who i assume supports females in the workplace?  sure.  but i don’t need it.  that’s what you’re missing.  you get caught up in the details and the fine print all the time and it’s like,  jesus,  scott,  you’re a total buzzkill.  i mean,  i wouldn’t say that about you,  but some people might.  ❞    

mara banks is plenty cool as is:   in all her drunk since noon glory,  chic leather jacket covering her shoulders,  she watches scott’s circus act of an effort and spares him any further teasing,  plucked brows hiking high.     ❝   a hashtag.  well,  god damn it,  scott,  that just feels targeted.  this is exactly what princess diana felt like,  i bet,  and you know she just   –   ❞     her knuckles roughly run into each other and make a puppet show of catastrophe     (     women live,  women die,  women turn into a bullshitter’s talking point:   a complete life cycle as far as mara’s concerned.     ).     ❝   boom,  just like that.  you can’t imagine the stress of being female in the public eye,  so please,  for my sake and good ol’ di’s,  have some compassion.   ❞     the movie star sigh comes next,  right on cue for the same sorry routine as she lets her stare meander around the room.     ❝   i’m a dying breed,  puppy.  they don’t make ‘em like me anymore.  you should see how some of the girls these days croak out their lines,  it’s pitiful.  it’s like they’re on life support but their tits are just new and perky enough that none of the producers wanna pull the plug yet.   ❞     

LET’S GET THIS STRAIGHT   :   SCOTT PILGRIM SHOULD FEEL HONORED TO HAVE MARA BANKS NEAR.   it’s nothing short of a privilege,  a sparkly piece of hollywood come to toronto.   new york never sleeps,  florida traps tourists like flies,  and toronto waits for women like her to come to town    (     mara’s already having so much fun she’s forgotten she’s in canada altogether,  thank god!     ).     ❝   harpy?   ❞     demure,  her palm lands on her chest,  eyes looking wounded.     ❝   harpy.   scott,  no one’s ever called me that before.   ❞     the only reason being that harpy doesn’t fit into anybody else’s twenty-first century vocabulary like it does scott’s   –   the point goes to pilgrim for originality!     ❝   it hurts.   do you think your sister tells you things like that because she enjoys manipulating and controlling your life?   classic case of sister separation anxiety?   god,  scott,  you’ve really gotta learn how to make decisions for yourself.   ❞

@vswrld

❝   well,  they just let anyone play here,  don’t they?   ❞     loud enough for him to hear,  quiet enough for him to wonder if she means it   :   she deals him a lemon-drop smile and lets him work out the rest.   night-weary limbs pluck mara from the barstool and to her feet,  drained plastic cup left behind.     ❝   i’m kidding.   you guys were pretty good!   ❞     in truth,  all she remembers is noise on noise on noise.   but her head’s not bursting at the seams,  mouth not ripe with the taste of insults,  voice still fresh and flowery in her throat   –   so she counts the whole affair pretty good.   her arm slings across scott’s neck,  clearly comfortable,  dragging him in and forward together.     ❝   mm,  take a walk with me,  scotty.   i could use the fresh air,  so could you.   ❞

Her palm cups a few chips from his palm for herself, it’s a lot closer than reaching over him for the bowl every time, and his clear surprise is her window to steal without protest. Kate makes a mental note of his embarrassment, totally passing judgement upon him when his features match the scarlet of his sweatshirt. She keeps the smile plastered on her face - it grows, and grows. She lets him get comfortable. Lets him settle back into the routine of fending off two headed monsters and their rogue pets.

“A period would eviscerate you,” she snatches the last chip from Scott with a laugh, expects further mortification, “didn’t you grow up with a sister?” Her avatar uses Scott’s head to boost herself up, “you should be used to all kinds of dirty talk.”

Granted, Kate was usually the more open one between herself and Susan.

“Or, diaper talk.”

Thumbs shifted precise -  there was an art to gaming that was not unlike most sports she excelled at. It required precision, patience, and a resilient stubborn nature that never retreated from a fight. Kate checked a lot of boxes. Eyes were bleary at the thought of a full twenty hours - any followthrough would be driven by a maniacal competitive streak that lay untamed within her, and copious amounts of energy drinks. “I don’t think I’ve ever done anything for that long,” maybe that’s not a bad thing, Kate, “except maybe sleeping,” gone were the days she could crash for nearly a day without interruption. Now, she was lucky if she got eight hours.

“You’ve convinced me,” it hadn’t taken much - she was just as invested in the game at this stage as he was, “but we’re taking bathroom breaks.”

KATE VS SCOTT,   PVP   :       who will survive this match of the wills?    scott has his weapons completely lined up      ...       a handful of chips,   a bladder that is resilient to all sorts of damage,   and a cool sword hidden somewhere in his closet       (       okay,   he’d never use that against kate,   and it would take a lot of effort to get it out while he was playing his game,   but it was still smart to keep proper stock of what he had on his side        ).         what did she have on her side?    pfft        ...        okay,    she was way faster than him,    and probably stronger,   and also so much cooler.    SKIP TO PAGE 19 TO FIND A FULL CHARACTER SHEET ON KATE BISHOP.

‘   anything would eviscerate me,   kate.     i weigh nothing.   a strong breeze could eviscerate me       ...      i’m totally losing cool points here,    so let’s pretend i didn’t say any of this.    and if you repeat any of this to wallace,   i’m throwing out your friendship card.   right in the trash.   ’      nothing was more embarrassing than his roommate knowing his weaknesses.        ‘   my sister did not talk to me about anything   :       we were operating under the geneva convention.   ’

“Why are you so embarrassed?” She nudges his foot with hers, “Can’t handle a little dirty talk?” She’s comfortable around Scott. She’s never had a tough time being unabashedly herself, but it took her a while to find people that she could be herself around. Not her own family, not without reluctance, and a fight. “I’d never worry about that.” Teasing was even easier - she could be relentless, and it wouldn’t change a thing between them.

There’s a laugh that comes with his jab, tickled, “She would absolutely,” she twitched away from his hand in case he did it again, still grinning, “eviscerate you.” Then Kate giggled.

He’s been hogging the chips, and she leans over to pluck a handful from the bag. “You’re nuts.” She snags another handful as the game queues up, shoves them into her mouth, “You think I’m gonna make it easier?” chewing slowly as her avatar circled around his.

“Two days?” She’s asked through a mouthful - surprise in her muffled tone. Captions absolutely necessary. One hand leaves the controller to cover her mouth, continue chewing. Where are her manners? “I can do like, maybe nineteen hours.” That felt like an overestimation. “We’ll play it by ear?”

There was chaos on the screen - key smashing seemed the best option, “Is there a strategy here?” Her eyes were near dry from not blinking, “or is it just, don’t die?”

ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED   :        flustered scott!       your new perks include twenty additional hit points,    a surprise attack on scott to use whenever you please,   and a handful of chips to steal from his half - slack hand.     his neck drops into his hoodie,   burying his flushed cheek in the red fabric       (        red was totally in this year,   according to kim,    who sometimes just said things to shut him up     ...     but this totally wasn’t one of these times,   and he was not delusional about that         ).         SPOILER ALERT   :       turn to page eight to find out just how delusional scott is!        ‘   you can’t just say things like that!    you have to give me five days of warning before you throw out words like dirty talk.     you can’t imagine the psychological toll that’s going to have on me.   ’      he nudges his foot back against hers,   mortification fading easily.

as   confused   as   scott   may   be   about   the   events   of   the   evening   ,      2D   is   even   more   lost.      he’s   not   really   sure   why   he   still   drinks.      it   never   mixes   well   with   his   pills   and   he   never   ends   up   back   at   the   studio   ,      which   means   he’ll   be   dealing   with   some   rather   angry   bandmates   in   the   morning   ,      but   the   consequences   aren’t   on   his   mind   right   now      ;      in   fact   ,      he’s   busy   trying   to   remember   how   they’d   ended   up   here.      he   can’t   remember   leaving   the   bar   ,      can’t   remember   much   after   his   drunken   rendition   of   love   shack         (   wait   ,      did   the   bar   even   have   a   karaoke   machine   ?   )   ,      but   at   the   very   least   he’s   grateful   to   have   gotten   back   in   one   piece.      he   clues   in   to   scott’s   words   about   halfway   through   his   second   question   ,      glassy   eyes   looking   straight   through   the   other.

“   oh.      sorry   ,      mate.   ”         slurred   speech   is   followed   by   a   fumbling   shift   off   the   man’s   feet.      he’d   been   wondering   why   the   couch   was   so   bumpy   ,      so   hard.         “   you   haven’t   got   any   bruises   so   i   don’t   f'ink   we   pissed   anyone   off   too   much.   ”                                     

FIRST PANEL   :       scott tucks his feet below his ass and has flashbacks of horrible karaoke scenes        (        no one wanted to hear scott sing       ...       which is probably why he can remember so much booing       --       and why he has such a painful headache       ).        HE WAS SEMI - GOOD ON THE GUITAR,  DEPENDING ON WHAT PUBLISHER YOU ASKED,  THOUGH.       SECOND FRAME   :       he stretches his arms above his head,   revealing a small slice of a pudgy belly.    when he slumps back into himself,   he’s reminded of his burning eyes and his chattering teeth.       ‘   when did it get so cold?    it shouldn’t be this cold.    aren’t we in the middle of summer?   ’       it’s spring,   scott.

“Why not just wear a diaper?” Her tone is serious, “Sacrifice your dignity. Not your bladder.” She shuddered at her imagined future of his self-inflicted years upon years of UTIs and infections. “Live longer.” Kate was convinced she was raising a solid point. “Game longer.”

She only hoped he’d agree.

Kate’s avatar was adorned with a purple bow - she’d spent more than a minute or two in the customization settings while Scott’s avatar attempted to dispose of bombs barreling towards him, adjusting the little accessories and features to her liking. Yes, she wanted subtitles. “It’s not gonna bother you, is it?” To be expected: it was not something she was willing to budge on. If she was going to half pay attention, at least she wanted to be half aware of the plot.

“400 wins?” The number was high, but arguably arbitrary. She couldn’t spot that number on the screen, but she was certain he had to be keeping track - with already almost two day’s worth of wins, how many more could he possibly need? “how many hours did it take to get to 400 wins?”

The more she played, the less impossible the game felt, and the more determined she was to defeat it. Leave it to Scott to unintentionally convince Kate into keeping her hues glued to the monitor, addiction to the console quickly in development. “How many wins do you have already?”

WARNING,  SCOTT,  WARNING   :         the diaper comment has dealt a - 10 to your confidence levels         (        sometimes,   he forgets that kate is a girl,   and that he should probably be trying to impress her or something       ...       or maybe just try being 20% less gross around her       --        but then he burps around her once or twice,   she doesn’t freak out,   and he completely forgets       ).         ‘   you’re so embarrassing!     talking to you is sacrificing my dignity,   so don’t worry about keeping that in tact!   ’       despite the pale imitation of a blush on his cheeks,    there’s a slip of familiar fondness in his voice.    his elbow jolts across the page to dig into her ribs nonetheless.

“They don’t let you relieve yourself?” It was concerning - no doubt someone could get a freaking infection holding their bladder for that long. But then Kate mulled over the scent. Hoped that it was sweat, and musk, and not pee in the leftover styrofoam cups.

“Don’t answer that.”

The remains of last night’s dinner were still on the table, crumpled up taco wrappers hastily stacked just over Scott’s left shoulder (she assumed where he’d been tossing them). “I actually did know that,” Mountain Dew replenished anew, “it’s a little stipend, right?” the scent of fresh nachos and burritos accompanied her arrival. “What’s the record?”He was in the same position as he was in last night. She quickly cleared off the coffee table to make room for new food. Then once everything was set, she hunted down the second controller.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be in winning you this record,” she wasn’t sure how long she could actually play - certainly not for hundreds of hours without her eyes bleeding out of her head, “but I’ll keep you alive.”

LOW SCORE!     scott’s little dude on the screen hit the ground way too hard,    crumpling into nothing but bones and pixelated blood       (       two more lives left,  scott,  use them wisely!      send in your own personalised score sheet and receive a CRYING SCOTT KEY CHAIN for your troubles       ...       what?   no one likes knowing their audience is better at video games than they are       ).       ‘   relieving yourself is fine,   but it wastes time.      YOU HAVE MAKE SACRIFICES FOR THE THINGS YOU LOVE,   KATE.   ’        a note to the audience   :       we do not condone scott’s actions nor do we believe that the readers should ever use him as a reference on how to live your own life.

'   can’t sleep.    trying to break a world record.    do you know they pay you for that kinda stuff?    and i’m kinda mega low on rent money right now,   so       ...       hey,  grab a controller,   we can play together!   ’

‘   traps don’t exist in real life,   dude.    they’re just something that people tell you about when they think you’re gonna make a bad life choice       --       to stop you from making the bad life choice.    but,  don’t worry,   nothing’s gonna stop me from making this stupid decision!   ’

‘   neither do i.    what are the odds we had a super cool night and didn’t piss anyone off?   ’      0000000.1/10.     scott was sort of a natural when it came to pissing people off       ...       SEE ISSUE 12 FOR MORE OF SCOTT’S ISSUES         [       ba dum tss        ].        ‘   hey,   how did you get on my couch?     i think you’re sat on my feet.   ’

*      DEAR  READER,      AS  A  POST  -  SCRIPT  :      sorry  about  that.      from  here  out,    we’ll  keep  tabs  on  our  quality  -  control  team.          (      and  don’t  worry  about  following  those  terms  &  conditions to  a  T    —    it’s  not  a  legally  binding  contract.      we  know,      we’ll  get  on  our  legal  team’s  case  just  as  soon  as  well.      EVERYONE’S  SLACKING  LATELY,    and  there’s  really  no  excuse  for  it,    either.      )          feel  free  to  consider  the  following  :

1.      PLEASE  EXCUSE  THE  NARRATIVE  SWEETNESS.                       i  know  we  just  said  you  didn’t  have  to  follow  the               T  +  C  here,      but  we’d  sure  appreciate  this  one.

2.      STORING  THE  MEMORIES  OF  SCOTT’S  TEARS  +  PRESENTLY  PATHETIC  DISPLAY  IS  KIND  OF  A  DICK  MOVE,    BUT  WE  WOULDN’T  FAULT  YOU  FOR  DOING  SO.               it’s  pretty  decent  material  to  keep  on  hand.

3.      RATHER,    ANY  AND  ALL  OF  WALLACE’S  GENTLENESS SHOULD  LIKELY  BE  TAKEN  WITH  A  GRAIN  OF  SALT.      NOT  TO IMPLY  HE  ISN’T  SO  GOOD  -  HEARTED          (      and  good  looking!      )      IN  GENERAL  ;          SCOTT  IS  MERELY  A  SPECIAL  CASE.               c’mon,    you  made  it  this  far  ;      you  have  to  know               this  by  now.

SELF  -  SATISFIED  with  the  minor  victory,    wallace  still  offers  a  half  -  smile.      warm,    caring.      IT’S  THE  LEAST  HE  CAN  OFFER.          ‘  fine.      sure    —    within  reason.  ’          for  scott’s  sake,    wallace  will  choose  to  regard  the  look  as  intended      …      but  it’s  hard  to  disregard  the  pity,    and  pity  is  what  he’ll  get    —    wallace  -  wells  -  as  -  best  -  friend  -  brand,      rather  than  wallace  -  wells  -  as  -  typical  -  bitch  -  brand.      savor  it  while  you  can.          phone  is  pulled  out  from  his  pocket,    poised  to  call,    but  he  can’t  help  roll  his  eyes  anyway.      OR  WHATEVER  is  right.          ‘  c’mon  buddy    —    it’s  what  i’m  here  for.  ’          well    —    that  cliche  was  more  a  little  more  on  the  nose  than  intended.

PAGE 1 - 5   :        scott pilgrim lets his hands settle over his stomach,    lips stretched pink and wound - fresh over the agony that heartbreak leaves         [       if you find yourself struggling with heartbreak,   call us at 05500 494949 69696969 for some personalised advice        ---        EXCUSE THE AD!       independent publishers are sometimes a little low on funds and need all the money they can get       ...        and need to use their big hearts to prop up independent businesses!         ].

PAGE 6 - 10   :        scott is feeling a little bit better.       SCOTT IS MILKING THE PROVERBIAL COW FOR FREE PIZZA       [       in his defense        ...       his heart still ached in his chest       ...        it was just starting to feel a little less like the end of the world when he had wallace sat beside him        ].       ‘   get the triple meat feast with double beef,    hot peppers,    and sweetcorn.    DO YOU THINK THEY’LL THROW TUNA ON THERE FOR US?     ask for tuna.   and if you can get those little green things,   the spicy ones       ---         and make sure they don’t leave out the chicken!    the forget it sometimes on a feast.   ’