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'Dite's Decadent Delights, Tuesday afternoon

Raven had brought her laptop with her to work again so she could investigate this thing called "fanfic" that she had stumbled across while looking for Rumor Gal spoilers. She judged like Dan when it came to grammar and had avoided a lot of the bad fic out there, and while the quality of some that she'd read was good, she didn't understand why the authors sometimes wrote about two characters together who clearly belonged with other people. Raven believed canon was Serious Business.

Then she saw a section she hadn't looked at before, one that was labeled "NC-17." Curious, she clicked.

...

Oh.

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Hannibal had no urge to buy anything in the sex shop but he was bored enough to take a jaunt into town and visit. The visit was made even better when he recognized the person working today.

"So, what's on sale today?" he asked, just to tease her.

Raven was staring at her laptop and didn't hear Hannibal come in; she started in surprise at his voice. "Hello, Hannibal," she said, shutting the laptop. "I am sorry, I did not hear you enter."

"Why're you apologizing?" he asked, eyes going to that laptop. "I interrupt something important?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Raven said. "I have just been learning about the internet. It is usually quiet at work so I have time to explore it. We have no computer in Azarath so this is all very new to me." Stop babbling, Raven.

"Internet, huh?" Hannibal leaned against the counter. "Anything interesting happening there today?"

"I was looking for Rumor Gal spoilers," Raven admitted, her cheeks turning pink.

"Rumor Gal? That tv show about the rich kids?" he asked. He'd maybe seen it a time or two. "Anything good?"

"One of the characters was sorely injured and left to die in the final episode this past season," Raven said gravely. "I wish to know that he will survive."

"Were you able to find the answer?" he asked. "I didn't watch. I'm only a casual viewer."

"The actor who portrays him still seems to be employed by the show," Raven said, "which is a good sign. I suppose it could mean he would appear in glimpses of the past, or as a ghost, but this is not a supernatural show." Except that one time.

"So, if he doesn't come back, will you keep watching?" he wondered.

Raven nodded. "I think so," she said, "for I do not watch solely for him." He was just a big part, shhhh. "I am intrigued by all the characters and their emotional connections to one another, though I have come to learn that some of the characters appear to be hated by many of the viewers. They wish pain and deconstruction upon them, which I do not understand."

"People are passionate about their television," he laughed. "If it helps, I doubt they actually would go through with those insane ramblings."

"It would be very difficult to kill a fictional character," Raven agreed. "Though it seems some of these people actually write their own stories based upon the show. I think that is a much healthier outlet." Well. For some of the things she'd read, but not all. There was nothing remotely healthy about some of the fics out there.

"You ever tried your hand at that sort of thing?" Hannibal asked curiously. "I bet you could write something good."

"I have never written anything like that," Raven said, shaking her head. Except maybe harmless little hurt/comfort scenarios in her head that totally didn't count, thank you. "I have written papers for classes but I have never considered anything fictional. I am not certain I would do that well."

"What's the harm in trying, though?" Hannibal asked. "If you wrote one, no harm, no foul to anyone else."

"I am still learning emotions and human culture," Raven protested. "I do not wish to appear foolish if I were to share any sort of story like that."

"Who says you gotta share it?" Hannibal wondered. "You could write it just for self satisfaction."

"But what if the show then contradicted what I had written?" Raven said. "I do not want to be wrong, either."

"So what?" Hannibal shrugged, not seeing anything bad with that. "So they contradict you. You just write something else. Everyone's gonna be wrong a lot in their lifetimes."

"I do not like being incorrect," Raven said. It chafed. She glanced at the laptop. "Perhaps I will consider your suggestion. I do worry that I would not be able to accurately capture the characters or their lives, however." Something that had never stopped 90% of the people writing fic.

"Hey, if anything, it'll get your creativity working, right?" Hannibal suggested. "Maybe make future writing assignments and such a little easier."

"I have never tried very hard to be creative," Raven admitted. "My gifts and the magics and histories I studied never required it."

"But, this is a different time, different place," he pointed out. "Nothing to stop you from getting some creative juices going."

Raven wondered if Anakin would encourage her to write fanfic. But no, she wasn't going to ask him. "I will consider it," she decided. "Perhaps if I read more I will understand the appeal of writing it."

"And hey, you could always draw on personal experience," he said, smirking. "Set one of your stories in a sex shop."

Raven's eyes got wide. It wasn't that she didn't think the characters would ever come into a shop like 'Dite's -- it was the thought of writing that. "I am not certain I could do such a thing," she stammered.

Hannibal laughed at the reaction and shook his head. "Whatever you decide to write, I think it'll be good. You'll be fine."

"I will do my best," Raven said solemnly, then hastily added, "...if I were to write such things."

"If you need any help, feel free to ask," he offered. "I'm around."

Raven tilted her head curiously. "You have experience with writing fan fiction?" she asked.

"No, but I do have experience with being creative," he replied, smiling.

"Are you sure?" Raven teased. "Is there no show that compels you to write your own stories?"

"I'm not big on television," he said, shrugging. "I like movies, music, that sort of thing."

"So you write stories about movies," Raven said, nodding knowingly, trying to keep her face straight.

"I don't write," he laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not a writer. I'm just creative."

"Then how do you use that creativity?" Raven asked. "How do you express it?"

"I goof off, wear clothes that I like, tease Angela, that sort of thing," Hannibal said, shrugging. "Just little stuff."

"You have no urge to express yourself in other ways?" Raven said. "In art or in song? Do you write poems for Angela?"

"I leave the art stuff to Angela," he said, shrugging. "Not big on the art side of things. I'm sure she'd be thrilled if I did write a poem for her though."

"You should!" Raven encouraged. "I think she would truly appreciate it."

"We'll see," Hannibal laughed, shaking his head. "If I can put together a poem, you can write what you wanna write."

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'Dite's Decadent Delights, Tuesday afternoon

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