Lovefool counts down her favorite comic characters who take aloofness to all new heights.
Hello, nerdlings! So where the hell have I been, yes, swanning off for an unannounced week away? I have been thinking about what we’re doing here. And writing about Doctor Who. I have been writing a lot about Doctor Who for the site at large, but you’ll get to read that soon enough. In the meantime, we’re doing the same thing we’ve always done because it’s fun. Maybe I just hit a pause point in my brain because the days are dwindling. The weather is still warmer than I thought it would be, despite a few chilly days, and the world seems to be in suspended animation. The trees are hanging onto their leaves, defying the lights carefully placed among their branches. It’s almost magical, this endless autumn. Soon enough, though, I know that winter is going to come snapping out of the skies and not all the electric kettles in the world, not even the most fabulous of fall-weight jackets, will be able to keep it at bay.
It’s that time of year when I like to just hide out, flying very low under the radar. Fortunately, I live with Mr. J. He and I, we have kind of a long-standing deal that dates back to the very beginning of our relationship. He’s pretty quiet all the time and I definitely have my moments where I just want to hang out and read a book and drink a cup of tea. (In my defense, I always make a second cuppa.) When we started dating, I had just finished a psychology class where I’d learned about parallel play, the concept that kids like to be around other kids but not necessarily interacting directly with them. And, to be honest, I think it’s a pretty healthy concept for adults. Mr. Jameson and I have silly conversations about work and Doctor Who and books we’re reading but we definitely don’t spend every moment in each other’s pockets.
This comes as no surprise to anyone who has ever attended a party with us and watched me whirling around the room talking to everyone while the mister hangs out with whoever is the least likely to be complicated at him. There’s a careful balance between letting someone have space and ignoring them, though, and that’s the trick to it. We’re pretty good at it at this stage in the game, if I do say so myself.
Still, the ladies tend to find that sort of thing sexy, that whole stoic-dude-who-doesn’t-say-much game. Honestly, there’s a reason why “What are you thinking?” is such a cliché. (A side note: we probably got married just because I stopped asking him what he was thinking outright and learned how to phrase it a little better.) In honor of the still water boys who run deep out there, though, we here at Lovefool, Inc, present our top five aloof dudes.
Kei Mizushima, The Name of the Flower: Okay, so Kei is actually a little crazy and he and his ladylove are distantly related enough that he gets custody of her when her parents die, but he has his moments and their tale is a compelling one. Also, he’s a completely insane writer and I can empathize with that a little bit, even if he’s totally successful and I’m…well, lazy. If a guy is blowing me off because his brain is working on something fabulous that might feature me as a thinly veiled character, it’s all good. In fact, that’s romantic.
- Dream, Sandman: Dream is a pretty tricky fellow to pin down. He’s not very funny and tends to be difficult to talk to. He’s quite broody and wears a lot of neutrals and can be a little freaked out when people actually successfully seek him out. And, sure, you don’t have to be broody to make our aloof list, but most aloof comic guys tend to be, in fact, brooding and not just upstairs reading about the history of Scandinavian metal. Also, Dream has lovely hair and looks like every pretty goth boy I never got to make out with because I was too f-ing blonde.
- Tony Stark, Iron Man: It is absolutely no secret that I totally have a crush on him, but Tony Stark is not really good at being a human being. He has all that money, which doesn’t even come into play here, but it’s built this insulated wall around him that some people might call “poor social skills” but I find kind of sexy. He tends to waver between keeping secrets and blurting everything out as distractions. Stark never plays it straight and it’d be a constant guessing game, making time with Mr. Stark, and that doesn’t even include trying to puzzle out whether he’s actually out starting a war and not buying a new car, like he said he was.
- Elijah Snow, Planetary: To be fair, a large part of Elijah’s initial aloofness is due to amnesia but, even when he remembers who he is he’s still calling the shots and keeping his cards close. It’s nothing for Elijah to ask someone to do something and refuse to reveal his motives, despite the fact that he’s never just asking someone to pop down and pick up some milk. It’s always life or death and you don’t always know why in Elijah’s world. Snow’s hotness is that they’ll do it, anyway. It helps that I like a man in a suit.
- Wolverine, X-Men: Wolverine has always ridiculously popular and, since being played by Hugh Jackman in a million movies, Marvel has managed to ratchet that up a bit. But here’s the thing – we learn about Wolverine agonizingly slowly, in both the movies and the comic books. No one ever knows anything about Wolverine’s past until it shows up to try to kill him. Ironically, though, Wolverine is always taking some young girl under his wing in a totally not-skeevy way and guiding them gently but firmly through life. Wtf. See? That’s totally baffling.
I could probably come up with a list of ladies, as well, and one entirely for manga, but these are the boys of comic books that I would totally be tempted to get all moon-eyed at and ask them what they’re thinking. They’d either give me a withering look and some silence or lie to me and that’s okay. Sometimes, even, in the right circumstances, that’s acceptable. Mostly when you’re hot and fictional so I can put you down and go upstairs with an offering of tea to catch up on the last hour and a half and complain about how much I hate it when I stall on my column and have to write it Monday night.
Again. | Erin Jameson