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Characters' Table Discussion- The Zimmer Session

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Characters' Table Discussion- The Zimmer Session


Zimmer: (rapping the front door with the knob of his cane jauntily like an Oxford Blood) (singsong) Schone*! Do be a gracious host and let me in the parlor!

Me: (answering the door with a reluctant groan) (irked) You mean my living room? As if we needed more chills.

Zimmer: Why not?

Me: (resignedly) Can't stop you, can I? Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Overdressed Screwtape!

Zimmer: (pauses a moment and rubs chin thoughtfully) That peculiar name sounds familiar...Wait! I remember! (glowers resentfully)That insufferable hack! Do not ever speak that wretched name again in my presence!

Me: (flatly) Care to explain your reason for visiting? I don't think it's for the scenery here.

Zimmer: (resumes wit and acidic cheer with a devilish grin) Smile, schone! Your main source of consternation lies in the fact you dwell on matters far too long, schone.

Me: Come again?

Zimmer: Like a cow or a sheep, you ruminate in your mind until the thought- even the concept itself- dissolves into indistinct cud.

Me: Like my diet?

Zimmer: Hmm? Ah, yes. What a pity! I suppose you can't indulge of some my finer hospitality?

Me: You're a glutton. In the sense of the chronic gourmet, that is.

Zimmer: Any other abuses you would like to hurl at me?

Me: Well...

Zimmer: You needn't fall back on civil reserve, schone. But really- you could do well to heed my advice.

Me: I happily decline- not really fond of taking life coaching from Machiavellian oligarchs...

Zimmer: Tsk! Tsk!Tsk! You do me an injustice, Resel!

Me: What kind of nickname is that?

Zimmer: Merely a diminutive of your birth name!

Me: Sounds like a brand of axle grease or a pretzel made for holidays!

Zimmer: Branding me as an oligarch! But you are right in your clever assessment, Resel!

Me: Now that you've dubbed me a pretzel, what is your actual reason for the visit?

Zimmer:  Resel is not a pretzel, you dim goose! It's merely a diminutive- my pet name for you! That aside, you know we are cut from the same cloth in many respects.

Me: As in?

Zimmer: Well, you do rank as a Low Mach- I am a High Mach- possibly the highest ever assessed, according to the Royal university's studies.

Me: What am I- a truck or a burger?

Zimmer: No, no, no! A Mach- a Machiavellian! Don't deny your own cynicism and cunning!

Me: I have to think ahead to survive, Zimmer. People around me and involved with me- the bonds are frail. People aren't as resilient as I am- or at least I push myself to be. Maybe that's the problem- maybe they're more resilient than I think I am. In order to preserve these connections and maintain a decent rapport, I must bend over backwards to keep them happy, to keep them liking me for a reason. I always fear rejection. Or not meeting someone's expectations and then they simply forget about me for someone more proficient or beneficial to them. I don't have a lot of merits. I fear losing love. That sounds awfully sentimental and even childish, I know, but at least I'm not as two-faced as you are. You just control an Orwellian oligarchy.

Zimmer: Orwellian? Another historical dictator? French, perhaps?

Me: Don't be sly-it's credited to George Orwell, the novelist. And he's British! Or English, or whatever term folks in the UK prefer. No doubt you used 1984 as a blueprint when you and Amadeus took over the joint.

Zimmer: Actually, we employed a number of methods- sort of testing of success against failure. Social experiments on a grand scale that would dwarf most of the schemes in your history. Fascism works quite swimmingly- you know, letting the economy be as it is while actually enslaving people to materialism and social ambition-

Me: Fascism? In the words of Inigo Montoya-

Zimmer: Who the deuce is that?

Me: - " You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. "

Zimmer: Before you interrupted me- you snare them through intellect, or at least a fine ersatz fraud of it. Those whose minds are too mean, you simply offer them creature comforts and build an illusion that their own little corner of the world is quite dandy.

Me: Zip-Doo-Dah... you must be the life of every party.

Zimmer: Zippy Doodah?

Me: This is getting stale, my fine-feathered friend- I mean, fiend. So why are you here?

Zimmer: Ennui, boredom Schone… Neid's revitalizing herself. Poor creature's exhausted her spirit down to nothing. Emilie's still in school season, and the dear, sweet prince is off on some war campaign. I do wish he wouldn't charge off like that. I need some stimulating company. Fond of the boy, I am.

Me: Boy? But he's a thousand years old. You're only 400.

Zimmer: (piquedly) Physically/spiritually speaking yes. (turning affectionately)I've come to love him as doting father-figure. Well, a powerless father-figure. More like an ineffectual uncle watching over the poor fellow. Soul-wise, he's a youth-regardless of mature he conducts himself, or how primed in his virility his carnal body exudes! Still, he looks quite becoming all decorated in his military regalia. Not that he pompously parades around with festooned epaulettes and a bevy of brassy medals, but he looks as a mighty force in his tasteful austerity-like a great dark star glowing and burning menacingly through the heavens.

Me: (sarcastically)Lo and behold- it's Sephiroth all over again!

Zimmer: (puzzled) Sefeerawt?

Me:Uh, Final Fantasy?

Zimmer: (coolly) You want me to grant you your final fantasy? That can be arranged.

 Me: Never mind! Knowing you, if you offered me anything, it would be definitely final, but not a fantasy- more like a nightmare you'd relish watching.

Zimmer: Don't denounce me so! I actually appreciate your company. You're my creator, after all. According to that Jung "Hans"***, I assume I am a sort of subconscious mental manifestation of your negative self. You know, your personal unconsciousness. Or rather, the evil potential you imagine beyond this world and its boundaries. Just think me your fictional world's own id.

Me: (sarcastically feigning enthusiasm) Wow- so you're now an expert on Fascism and Jungian psychology! Son, you must be fun at parties! But no, seriously! (regains tepid personality) I'm too selfish to be fully evil. Or rather, evil repulses me- I don't want a smidgen of that ugly stuff. The only real joy I get from this life is from making people I love happy. Giving and helping makes me happy like a child during a holiday. But I don't deny I have a sinful nature. All humans do. Depends if we succumb to it. I've got faith- what else can hold me up? Don't make that face! You slithered your way into the house! Now stomach my beliefs, cad. Maybe I'd like power and chomp down on nasty folks like acid as you do, but let's keep the subordination here- I'm the writer and you're my character.

Zimmer: As you command...kleine göttin****!

Me: Mind leaving? And, for goodness sakes, take that tempting box of chocolate bon-bons with you! Knowing you, they're probably poisoned assassination devices. I need to lose weight, you sadist!

Zimmer: (under breath) How did she know? Those weren't for you! I always carry some form of defense, you know. Besides, I have a spineless rival to eliminate today. I don't have time to prattle with you any longer for now, schone. (Sarcastically) Pity, though! Ciao******, schone! 

Me: Good riddance!


* German term meaning "lovely, fair" or "cute or endearing".

** Germanic diminutive for Theresa

*** German for "little goddess"- he enjoys mocking me.

****Zimmer's linguistic dialect is based on a fictionalized Viennese/Austrian type of colloquial German, so he uses "slangy" terms he concocts. For example, taking the place of word like fellow or chap, or even "Jack", he uses the name, "Hans" (probably equivalent to our "Jack")- indicting how common the name is, thus designating an average man.

***** It's fashionable, in certain languages, to use foreign words as greetings and farewells. Being more nouveau, Zimmer prefers Italian terms since he is partners with Natalia/Neid (Neid, who is actually his familiar) who is incidentally, a sort of alternate world Italian Swiss.

An improvised therapeutic piece jotted down during my convalescence period in November.

As a writer or artist, do any of you ever hold conversations with your own characters? As real, respectable people? (Perhaps not as respectable in Zimmer's case, the old crazy bird- you'd get more sense and manners from Digory's madcap Uncle...)

Such is the case with one conversation Zimmer and I held. For those unfamiliar with Zimmer, he is an integral character from my upcoming series, Infinite As Audacity. In summary, he is now immortal- a Dark Class Ater now in human form in his previous world, playing a key component in his master's ultimate plan to "rebirth" the world by means of corrupting the world to its limit.

A homely-bodied and-faced but nattily-dressed dandy (but never a fop, despite what his familiar Neid, contends), Zimmer cold be best described as a sort Blackadder III- that is, if the fellow had some charm, associated with people of his own intellect level, and presumably was octane-high on caffeine like ol' Zimmer acts.

This piece was merely a fun exercise to stretch my writing muscles after a fallow period. Read if you like, or simply ignore. I may move this scraps shortly this weekend.
© 2015 - 2024 Tete-DePunk
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Phantasm1313's avatar
This was so interesting! I think I've come to like Zimmer, a little. Even if he is insufferable! Giggle 

You know, I've done the same thing before. My characters talk to me throughout the day, and usually when I'm feeling down. I have a particular character, Hatori, who is incredibly comforting (even if he can't quite comfort himself!). I'd love to see more of Creator and Character Interactions from you, dear. I like them a lot :D