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10 September 2010 @ 02:03 pm
Twilight: Chapter 11, Part 2  

Guess who? I'd give you the usual round of apologies, but you know them all already. Suffice it to say that I've been through one job, gained another and my computer suffered a power surge that killed it (temporarily), reduced it to the speed of a sleepy octogenarian (less temporarily) and has led to me concluding that what I really need is a computer that isn't on its last legs. Any and all donations to the $700 project of Give Me A New Computer That Can Run Media Player And Solitaire Without Crashing gratefully accepted ;P 

Since our lovely Lulu-chan is still unbroken, he'll be hanging around for a little longer -

Lelouch: Not if I have anything to say about it.

Cass: You don't.

Along with my roommate, Cassandra, aka marigoldsthorn , who will be helping me to actually get through this thing in one piece.

Lelouch: And who'll be helping me get through this in one piece?

Cass: Your momma.

Lelouch: My mother?

EmeryBoard: Oh smeg.

Lelouch: My mother?!

Cass: What's the big deal?

EmeryBoard: There are certain anime characters you don't make 'your momma' jokes about. Shingi from EVA, Ichigo from Bleach, Sephiroth from FFVII -

Cass: And Lelouch from Code Geass?

EmeryBoard: Exacta.

Lelouch: MY MOTHER?!

EmeryBoard: Oh, look! Suzaku in a cheerleader's uniform!

Lelouch: MY -where?!

And now, the MST.

And then he was gone,

Lelouch: Oh, thank the Lloyd! Now if someone will just untie me . . .

Cass: Don't even think about it. If I have to sit through this, so do you.

the car speeding down the street and disappearing
around the corner before I could even collect my thoughts.

EmeryBoard: Despite their best efforts to escape, Bella's thoughts were all corralled and dealt with as enemies of the plot.

Lelouch: There's a plot?

I smiled as I walked to the house. It was clear he was planning
to see me tomorrow, if nothing else.

Cass: Through the scope of a sniper rifle, maybe . . .

That night Edward starred in my dreams, as usual.

EmeryBoard: Because that's how you know he is The One. Take note kids: if you're not dreaming of your significant other every night, it's not true love!

However, the climate of my unconsciousness had changed.

Lelouch: Can't she just get climate control?

EmeryBoard's Twilight MST apologises for that joke. The writer has been flogged.

It thrilled with the same electricity that had charged the afternoon,

Cass: Okay, time out. How exactly does one's unconsciousness 'thrill' with electricity?

EmeryBoard: How did that same electricity charge an afternoon? Do her afternoons require regular battery changes?

and I tossed and turned restlessly, waking often.

EmeryBoard: Edward must have been busy that night, constantly ducking in and out of Bella's window without her ever becoming aware of his presence.

Lelouch: Wait, what? Why is Edward in her room?

Cass: Oh, he's just watching her sleep. Every night. Without her knowledge or consent. In her own damn room.

Lelouch: She's joking, right?

EmeryBoard: . . .

Lelouch: Right?

It was only in the early hours of the morning that I
finally sank into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Cass: "The spiders want me to tapdance, Harry. I don't want to tapdance . . ."

When I woke I was still tired, but edgy as well.

EmeryBoard: Tired but edgy? What is she, a noir-style detective?

Cass: No, her inner monologue isn't interesting enough.

I pulled on my brown turtleneck and the inescapable jeans,
sighing as I daydreamed of spaghetti straps and shorts.

EmeryBoard: First point: you did not have to come here. It was your own choice, you goddamn martyr. Second point: Jeans are not the only thing you can wear in cold weather. Third point: Spaghetti straps look terrible unless you have a strap-less bra and I very much doubt you have one of those, since we're going with Suetiful All Along for our beauty trope of choice.

Cass: TL;DR version: Bella sucks.

Breakfast was the usual, quiet event I expected.

Lelouch: So, when do we get to the interesting parts?

Cass: Say what?

Lelouch: Well, this has been excruciatingly boring, but the plot has to show up sooner or later . . . why are you both laughing?

Charlie fried eggs for himself; I had my bowl of cereal. I
wondered if he had forgotten about this Saturday. He answered my unspoken
question as he stood up to take his plate to the sink.

Cass: "I would really not be okay with you dating a vampire. Just in case you were wondering."

"About this Saturday…" he began, walking across the kitchen and turning
on the faucet.

I cringed. "Yes, Dad?"

EmeryBoard: "Please don't beat me!"

"Are you still set on going to Seattle?" he asked.

"That was the plan." I grimaced, wishing he hadn't brought it up so I
wouldn't have to compose careful half-truths.

Lelouch: Bu-But But she lies! To everyone! With alarming frequency! Why does she care this time?

EmeryBoard: Because he can ground her ass.

He squeezed some dish soap onto his plate and swirled it around with the brush.

Cass: Thrill at the exciting dish-cleaning! Marvel at the riveting everyday conversation! You know what have been interesting? This sort of decent descriptive phrasing as applied to things we actually care about.

"And you're sure you can't make it back in time for the dance?"

"I'm not going to the dance, Dad." I glared.

Lelouch: Huh?

Cass: Umm . . .

EmeryBoard: *facepalms*

Cass: She's glaring . . . because her father asked her a question she was expecting . . .

EmeryBoard: That just makes so much sense </sarcasm>

"Didn't anyone ask you?" he asked, trying to hide his concern by focusing
on rinsing the plate.

Lelouch: How do you know he was hiding his concern? This girl seems to assume quite a bit.

EmeryBoard: I'm still trying to work out whether it's Bella's arrogance or SMeyers' inability to write 1st person.

Cass: It can't be both?

I sidestepped the minefield. "It's a girl's choice."

EmeryBoard: "The girls have to ask?"

Cass: "No, duh. You have to ask a girl. Something about increasing acceptance of minority rights or something."

EmeryBoard: "Bella, is there something -"

Cass: "I wanted to ask Jessica, but she was already going with that Mike guy I hate with all my soul."

"Oh." He frowned as he dried his plate.

I sympathized with him.

Lelouch: Which is why you were glaring at him a few seconds ago. Some consistancy would be nice.

It must be a hard thing, to be a father; living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked,

Cass: Or a girl.

but also having to worry if she didn't.

Lelouch: "I might be stuck with her for the rest of my life! She'll never move out, because she needs a man to look after to validate her existence!"

EmeryBoard: No wonder he seems to live off fried eggs and bacon; he's trying to induce a heart attack.

How ghastly it would be, I thought, shuddering, if
Charlie had even the slightest inkling of exactly what I did like.

Cass: Necrophilia?

EmeryBoard: . . . Actually, yes.

Charlie left then, with a goodbye wave, and I went upstairs to brush my
teeth and gather my books. When I heard the cruiser pull away, I could
only wait a few seconds before I had to peek out of my window. The silver
car was already there, waiting in Charlie's spot on the driveway.

Cass: That just does not making any sense. Firstly, why is it so important that Charlie doesn't know she's obsessed with Edward? Secondly, if it was only 'a few seconds' between her dad leaving and Edward arriving, then Charlie would have seen the car pull up! I don't care how good his vampiric reflexes are, you can't whisk a car into someone's driveway mere seconds after they leave without the person noticing! I demand an explanation for this bullsh-

EmeryBoard: MOVING ON.

I bounded down the stairs

Lelouch: "And tripped on the way down, breaking my neck the way any actually clumsy person would if they tried to bound down stairs."

and out the front door, wondering how long this
bizarre routine would continue. I never wanted it to end.

EmeryBoard: I'm pretty sure you can't call something a ritual if you've only done it once.

He waited in the car, not appearing to watch

Lelouch: So he actually was watching? How does she know that?

Cass: Okay, SMeyers. You're clearly not very bright, so I'll spell this out carefully for you, just once. If you are writing from 1st person, your narrative must been limited to the things your POV character knows. If they cannot see something happen then you cannot write about it. So stop jumping into other characters' heads before I hunt you down, take your head as a prize and mount it over my bed.

as I shut the door behind me
without bothering to lock the dead-bolt. I walked to the car, pausing
shyly before opening the door and stepping in. He was smiling, relaxed —
and, as usual, perfect and beautiful to an excruciating degree.

Edward-O-Meter: 054

EmeryBoard: Excruciating being the key word here. Yes, Edward is wonderful and wholesome and sparkling and pure -We get it, SMeyer, we really do. Now can you please just give it a rest? Pretty please?

Cass: You're not supposed to negotiate with terrorists.

EmeryBoard: I don't think SMeyer is quite that ba-

Cass: Terrorist!

Lelouch: What do you have against terrorists anyway?

"Good morning." His voice was silky.

Edward-O-Meter: 055

"How are you today?" His eyes roamed
over my face, as if his question was something more than simple courtesy.

Cass: "I saw you tossing and turning last night. Also, you snore. You might want to try sleeping on your side."

Lelouch: How does the fact that his eyes are roaming over her face make his question more significant? If his tone was different -I'd accept that. But because he looks at her face? It's called common courtesy, Bella.

EmeryBoard: She's not familiar with that concept.

Lelouch: Given the way she treats the people around her, I can't say I'm surprised.

"Good, thank you." I was always good — much more than good — when I was
near him.

His gaze lingered on the circles under my eyes. "You look tired."

"I couldn't sleep," I confessed, automatically swinging my hair around my
shoulder to provide some measure of cover.

EmeryBoard: ARGH! Stop hiding behind your hair! It doesn't help, it doesn't actually obscure much of anything, and it just makes you look like you're trying to be a shy, retiring flower, instead of the hideously rude witch we all know you are!

Lelouch: . . .

Cass: . . .

EmeryBoard: What? I'm not allowed to have pet peeves?

"Neither could I," he teased as he started the engine. I was becoming
used to the quiet purr. I was sure the roar of my truck would scare me,

Cass: It's going to scare you. The sound of a truck's engine . . . is going to scare you. What are you, a freaking fallow deer?

EmeryBoard: If she is, we're having venison for dinner tonight.

whenever I got to drive it again.

EmeryBoard: Which will be never, since she's apparently incapable of driving her own car. What with being such a weak, frail woman and all.

I laughed. "I guess that's right. I suppose I slept just a little bit
more than you did."

"I'd wager you did."

"So what did you do last night?" I asked.

Lelouch: "Watched you sleep, mostly. Also, I stabbed a man just to watch him die. You know, the usual."

He chuckled.

Cass: "My violation of your privacy is an endless source of amusement!"

"Not a chance. It's my day to ask questions."

Lelouch: Like, riddles or something?

EmeryBoard: Exacta! Ye must answer me these questions three, 'ere the other side of this MST ye see.

Lelouch: If it'll make this abomination go faster, I'll do it.

Cass: What is your name?

Lelouch: Lelouch vi Brittania.

EmeryBoard: What is your quest?

Lelouch: To destroy Britannia!

Cass: What is the air-speed velocity of an unladened sparrow?

Lelouch: What do you mean; African or European?

Cass: Umm, I don't kno-AAIIEE! *is flung off a bridge*

Lelouch: Umm . . . I think I missed something.

EmeryBoard: Just Monty Python's impending lawsuit.

"Oh, that's right. What do you want to know?" My forehead creased. I
couldn't imagine anything about me that could be in any way interesting
to him.

EmeryBoard: Can't disagree with that. Dear Lord, this is boring.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked, his face grave.

EmeryBoard: Wait a minute . . . didn't we already make that joke?

Cass: *eyes Twilight warily*

Lelouch: This is actually kind of worrying. It's like the book has begun to anticipate the jokes you're making . . .

Cass: Don't you see?! She's left the MST open on her desktop too long! It's gained sentience! It wants revenge!!!

EmeryBoard: . . . Is it bad that I find that the most plausible plot-twist thus far?

I rolled my eyes.

Cass: Why? All he's doing is asking for clarification on a deliberately evasive answer.

"It changes from day to day."

Lelouch: Makes sense. Nothing about her character is consistent outside her impressive obsession with Edward.

"What's your favorite color today?" He was still solemn.

"Probably brown." I tended to dress according to my mood.

EmeryBoard: Umm . . . what does that last sentence have to do with anything? You're talking about your favourite colour, not your mood. LOGIC, apply directly to the forehead.

Lelouch: And while we're on the subject, what mood does 'brown' represent anyway?

He snorted, dropping his serious expression. "Brown?" he asked

"Sure. Brown is warm. I miss brown.

Cass: You obviously haven't watched at least half of the survival-horror-action-dystopia movies that've come out over the last few years.


EmeryBoard: Apparently, dusty brown and gunmetal grey are the only colours that survive the Revolution.

 Everything that's supposed to be brown —
tree trunks,

Cass: Can be any shade from black to red to white.


Cass: Can vary even more than the tree trunks, with blue and orange and semi-precious gems embedded therein.


Cass: Can be almost any of the above colours, depending on where you are and what you've been smoking.

— is all covered up with squashy green
stuff here," I complained.

Lelouch: 'Squashy green stuff'? What's she talking about? Moss? Fungus? Flung spinach?

He seemed fascinated by my little rant.

EmeryBoard: Trust me, he's the only one.

He considered for a moment, staring into my eyes.

Cass: "I could still break her neck. Seriously . . . 'brown is warm'? She almost deserves it just for that."

"You're right," he decided, serious again.

Cass: "Nah, too risky. Plus, you can never get the smell of blood out of leather upholstery."

"Brown is warm." He reached
over, swiftly, but somehow still hesitantly,

EmeryBoard: Hesitant: Noun. Reluctant or slow to action. The basic definition excludes the possibility of swiftness. Blatant contradictions are not good writing, SMeyers, any more than they are 'deep'.

to sweep my hair back behind my shoulder.

Lelouch: Right before he strangles you with it.

We were at the school by now.

Cass: That's all? Really? No descriptions of the wind in your hair or anything to even remind the reader that they're in a car? No playful fighting over the radio, no raising your voice to speak over traffic sounds . . . just listen to the engine start and BANG! you're there! Not even a mention of Edward doing any form of driving? Hell, at this point I'd even take a reminder of how much that driving scares her!

EmeryBoard: Maybe they flew there?

Cass: Che. For all the information we're given, they took a damn purring transporter to school.

He turned back to me as he pulled into a parking space.

"What music is in your CD player right now?" he asked, his face as somber
as if he'd asked for a murder confession.

Cass: Little did she know that in fact, Edward suspected her of the premeditated murder of . . . you know what, forget it. There's no way anything that interesting could happen in this story.

realized I'd never removed the CD Phil had given me. When I said the
name of the band, he smiled crookedly, a peculiar expression in his eyes.

EmeryBoard: Am I the only one getting the feeling that she's really awkwardly trying to avoid naming a particular band?

Cass: It's like playing an RPG that let's you make up your own name. The characters all go to hilarious lengths to avoid actually using anything more than a generic title.

He flipped open a compartment under his car's CD player, pulled out one
of thirty or so CDs that were jammed into the small space, and handed it
to me.

"Debussy to this?" He raised an eyebrow.

Lelouch: Is he trying to draw a contrast between the two music styles?

Cass: How can he if we never get to find out who composed the other CD? That's just . . . stupid. Deeply, deeply stupid.

It was the same CD. I examined the familiar cover art, keeping my eyes

Cass: "Lest anyone meet my eyes and become enflamed with passion. I considered investing in a burqa, so that only Edward would ever seen my granola girl physique. . ."

EmeryBoard: Don't you mean 'inflamed'?

Cass: No, 'enflamed'. As in, the next person to fall in love with Bella gets set on fire!

It continued like that for the rest of the day.

Lelouch: You looked at the CD's cover art for the entire day?

EmeryBoard: Sounds more entertaining than what we're doing.

While he walked me to
English, when he met me after Spanish, all through the lunch hour, he
questioned me relentlessly about every insignificant detail of my

EmeryBoard: Umm, Bella? That's not a good sign. Usually, it means that the guy is trying to build up an emotional connection way too quickly or he's trying to memorise every aspect of your personality so he can rip your skin from your bones and wear it like a coat.

Cass: Well, the latter wouldn't exactly take too long. "Hi, I'm Bella Swan! I think I'm deep, but I'm just pretentious! And that's all there is to know about me!"

 EmeryBoard: What's terrible is that slow, creeping realisation that this is the most we're going to see in terms of 'discussing common interests' or indeed, anything even remotely normal. Apparently, all Twu Wuv needs is a day of the girl spitting random facts about herself in the general direction of the object of her affections.

 Movies I'd liked

Cass: Sex in the City, Eat Pray Love, Sex in the City 2 . . .

and hated,

EmeryBoard: Anything remotely complicated or subtle.

the few places I'd been

Cass: Phoenix and Bugger All Else.

and the many places I wanted to go,

Lelouch: Nowhere that wasn't Phoenix.

and books — endlessly books.

EmeryBoard: Endlessly books? What does that even mean? If he asked you about the books you've read, then say so! You fail at basic sentence structure forever, SMeyer!

Cass: And he can hardly been asking her endlessly about books since, despite all her claims to the contrary, she is not a bookish girl. She never references any of the books she supposedly enjoys, nor do we even get to see her reading anything that isn't required material for any American's standard education. In short, she's yet another self-absorbed teenager with delusions of intelligence.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd talked so much.

EmeryBoard: Except for, you know, when you started narrating this stupid story.

More often than not, I felt self-conscious, certain I must be boring him.

Lelouch: If you feel that you're boring him, and you've been talking about yourself all day -yes, you probably are boring him.

Cass: You're definitely boring us.

But the absolute absorption of his face,

EmeryBoard: So, his face is absorbent? I know I try to restrain myself from synonym puns, but an Edward-head shaped sponge just strikes me as particularly hilarious.

Cass: You could make it yourself! Just find different coloured sponges -white for the skin, orange for the eyes, deep red for the lips and brown for the hair . . .

Lelouch: . . . That's a surprisingly . . . constructive comment -

Cass: And then SET IT ON FIRE!!!

Lelouch: Never mind.

and his never-ending stream of questions, compelled me to continue.
Mostly his questions were easy, only a very few triggering my easy blushes.

EmeryBoard: Using the same word twice in the one sentence makes baby Cthulu cry.

But when I did flush, it brought on a whole new round of questions.

Cass: "So when you said you'd do anything for a Klondike bar . . ."

Such as the time he asked my favorite gemstone, and I blurted out topaz
before thinking.

Lelouch: The way this is phrased, I can't help thinking of Bella vomiting topaz all over Edward.

EmeryBoard: Also, topaz is my birthstone -back off, Bella.

Cass: Not to mention that only the most valuable topaz is yellow. The topaz stone can come in a wide variety of colours, from red to blue to almost transparent. If you're trying to match Edward's eye colour, amber would be a far better choice.

He'd been flinging questions at me with such speed that
I felt like I was taking one of those psychiatric tests where you answer
with the first word that comes to mind.

Cass: MST?

EmeryBoard: Prison.

Cass: Edward?

EmeryBoard: Burn.

Cass: Release?

EmeryBoard: Death.

I was sure he would have
continued down whatever mental list he was following, except for the
blush. My face reddened because, until very recently, my favorite
gemstone was garnet.

Lelouch: Presumably for the eye colour of the last guy she dated.

EmeryBoard: *eyes Cass* I'd make a Vincent Valentine joke, but I don't think I'd live past the second syllable.

Cass: Wise choice.

It was impossible, while staring back into his topaz
eyes, not to remember the reason for the switch.

EmeryBoard: And here's another one of those sentences I hate for reasons that may or may not have something to do with the onset of rage-induced insanity.

And, naturally, he wouldn't rest until I'd admitted why I was embarrassed.

Cass: Because why would he respect her right to privacy when he can make her obey his every wish?

Lelouch: Be fair; it might not be that -

Tell me," he finally commanded after persuasion failed — failed only
because I kept my eyes safely away from his face.

Cass: You were saying?

Lelouch: . . .

"It's the color of your eyes today," I sighed, surrendering,

EmeryBoard: That use of that word is so redundant and unnecessary that I can only assume SMeyer has Issues and move on.

staring down at my hands as I fiddled with a piece of my hair. "I suppose if you asked
me in two weeks I'd say onyx."

Edward-O-Meter: 056

I'd given more information than necessary
in my unwilling honesty, and I worried it would provoke the strange anger
that flared whenever I slipped and revealed too clearly how obsessed I

Cass: What. The. Hell?! This is just terrible! The woman lives in fear of the man, the man is obsessed and angry with the woman for being the cause of his obsession and they use all those around them as pawns in their personal war of attrition!

EmeryBoard: When you put it that way, it actually sounds interesting.

But his pause was very short.

Lelouch: Much like the readers' patience.

"What kinds of flowers do you prefer?" he fired off.

EmeryBoard: Bet you like something like daisies for being overlooked or some pretentious crock like that.

I sighed in relief, and continued with the psychoanalysis.

EmeryBoard: Dammit. The one question I actually wanted an answer for -

Lelouch: Only so you could mock it.

EmeryBoard: Your point being?

*snip for biology, badminton and rushing back to be with her precious Eddykins. Good grief, this is boring. Can there be murder? A terrible accident? Something that resembles conflict? Please?*

"Are you finished?" I asked in relief.

EmeryBoard: . . . You don't want to know the number of terrible jokes I'm suppressing.

"Not even close — but your father will be home soon."

"Charlie!" I suddenly recalled his existence, and sighed.

Cass: You know, it's usually a bad sign when an undead creature of darkness shows more respect for your father than you do.

I looked out at the rain-darkened sky, but it gave nothing away. "How late is it?" I
wondered out loud as I glanced at the clock.

Cass: Far too late . . . for all of us.

I was surprised by the time — Charlie would be driving home now.

"It's twilight," Edward murmured, looking at the western horizon,
obscured as it was with clouds.

Lelouch: Why do I have a bad feeling about this next part?

EmeryBoard: No, nononononono . . .


His voice was thoughtful, as if his mind were somewhere far away.

Lelouch: I do not like the direction this is going.

I stared at him as he gazed unseeingly out the windshield.

Cass: "Oooh, I love it when he ignores me."

I was still staring when his eyes suddenly shifted back to mine.

EmeryBoard: "Oh frack, she's still here. Quick, think of something profound!"

"It's the safest time of day for us," he said, answering the unspoken
question in my eyes. "The easiest time. But also the saddest, in a way…
the end of another day, the return of the night. Darkness is so
predictable, don't you think?" He smiled wistfully.

EmeryBoard: "That was terrible! What was I thinking?!"

"I like the night. Without the dark, we'd never see the stars."

EmeryBoard: "Wait, she actually bought that? Holy crow, she's not exactly the quickest heroine in the library."

Cass: "Did you see what I did there, extending your light and darkness metaphor? Wasn't I clever?


EmeryBoard: "Yes, you're very smart. Now shut up."

 I frowned. "Not that you see them here much."

Lelouch: "Hee hee! Aren't I just adorable?"

Cass: No.

EmeryBoard: Where the frell did I put my cyanide pills?!

He laughed, and the mood abruptly lightened.

"Charlie will be here in a few minutes. So, unless you want to tell him
that you'll be with me Saturday…" He raised one eyebrow.

Cass: Okay, let's assess the facts here. As far as Charlie knows, Edward is just one of many kids Bella's age going to her school. A little pale, but polite and personable (just assuming for a moment that we buy that colossal load of trash SMeyers has been shovelling this whole time). There is absolutely no reason not to disclose that he is Bella's friend/obsessive love interest. I could understand if Bella didn't want to tell her father -she is a mid-teen girl, and a particularly dense example of the species. But Edward is supposed to be over one hundred and far more mature than she is. So . . . start acting mature you sparkly Meyerpire!

Lelouch: Personally, I'm beginning to subscribe to the theory that he wants as few people as possible to know about the relationship so he won't be as much of a suspect when her corpse is found drained of all blood in a ditch somewhere.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I gathered my books, realizing I was stiff from
sitting still so long. "So is it my turn tomorrow, then?"

"Certainly not!" His face was teasingly outraged. "I told you I wasn't
done, didn't I?"

EmeryBoard: You sure about the 'teasingly' there, Bella?

"What more is there?"

Cass: "Oh, nothing much. Just your PIN, social security number and any passwords you consider important or worth remembering."

"You'll find out tomorrow." He reached across to open my door for me, and
his sudden proximity sent my heart into frenzied palpitations.

Lelouch: Are we quite sure there isn't just something very wrong with this girl? A weak or damaged heart could explain her quick blushes, her tendency to faint, even her lack of balance. What she assumes are the stirrings of love could be caused by some sort of heart condition.

EmeryBoard: If only we could be that lucky.

But his hand froze on the handle.

"Not good," he muttered.

Cass: "I knew I shouldn't have eaten that Indian boy. The blood always goes straight through me."

"What is it?" I was surprised to see that his jaw was clenched, his eyes

EmeryBoard: Edward Cullen -handsome, charming and completely bi-polar. Seriously, I'm almost expecting a voice-over to start telling me to beware these warning signs in potential boyfriends.

He glanced at me for a brief second. "Another complication," he said

Cass: "I just remembered it's Monday -Family Home Evening for all good Mormons vampires. There's no way I'm going to be able to bury your body in the woods and still make it back in time for the popcorn and family friendly PG movie."

Lelouch: I'm not sure how serious you are and that worries me.

He flung the door open in one swift movement, and then moved, almost
cringed, swiftly away from me.

The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark
car pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us.

EmeryBoard: He really does seem to be acting as if the presence of other people is the only thing preventing him from twisting her head off like the cap on a Coke bottle.

"Charlie's around the corner," he warned, staring through the downpour at
the other vehicle.

I hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was
louder as it glanced off my jacket.

I tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but it
was too dark. I could see Edward illuminated in the glare of the new
car's headlights; he was still staring ahead, his gaze locked on
something or someone I couldn't see. His expression was a strange mix of
frustration and defiance.

Cass: "Jacob, you have to get over me. I like girls! See how much I care about Bella? I'm completely straight! Straight!"

EmeryBoard: "So the time we shared together . . . it didn't mean anything to you?"

Cass: "Please Jacob, you need to let me go . . ."

EmeryBoard: "I wish I knew how to quit you!"

Then he revved the engine, and the tires squealed against the wet
pavement. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds.

"Hey, Bella," called a familiar, husky voice from the driver's side of
the little black car.

"Jacob?" I asked, squinting through the rain.

EmeryBoard: Hey, give the girl a medal -it was Jacob.

Cass: *bows*

Just then, Charlie's cruiser swung around the corner, his lights shining on the occupants of
the car in front of me.

Jacob was already climbing out, his wide grin visible even through the

EmeryBoard: *insert vaguely racist joke about dark skin and white teeth here*

In the passenger seat was a much older man, a heavyset man with
a memorable face — a face that overflowed, the cheeks resting against his

Lelouch: So his cheeks are four or five inches longer than his jaw? That's disgusting!

Cass: You have to admit, it would be pretty memorable.

with creases running through the russet skin like an old
leather jacket.

EmeryBoard: Reluctantly, I have to concede that this is actually a pretty good part of a sentence.

Lelouch: 'Part of a sentence'? Talk about damning with faint praise.

EmeryBoard: This is Twilight; it was already damned.

And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that
seemed at the same time both too young and too ancient for the broad face
they were set in.

Cass: SMeyer, you fail at describing things. Stop using two conflicting adjectives for the one object. It doesn't make you sound deep, it doesn't make you sound like a good author, it doesn't even make you sound like a rational human being. His eyes are either too young for his face or too old. They cannot be both. You know what that is? A basic grasp of English. You know what it's not? Difficult!

Jacob's father, Billy Black. I knew him immediately,
though in the more than five years since I'd seen him last I'd managed to
forget his name when Charlie had spoken of him my first day here. He was
staring at me, scrutinizing my face, so I smiled tentatively at him. His
eyes were wide, as if in shock or fear, his nostrils flared. My smile

Cass: "He'd never forgiven me for calling him a Lamanite and pushing him out of the fishing boat all those years ago."

Another complication, Edward had said.

EmeryBoard: Hmm . . . maybe it isn't Jacob Edward has the hots for.

Lelouch: . . . No. Just . . . no.

Billy still stared at me with intense, anxious eyes. I groaned
internally. Had Billy recognized Edward so easily? Could he really
believe the impossible legends his son had scoffed at?

Cass: The impossible legends you believe, you mean?

The answer was clear in Billy's eyes. Yes. Yes, he could.

EmeryBoard: *insert Reaction Chipmunk here*

Hope you liked, sorry for the delay -hopefully, I'll be a little more prompt now things have settled down a bit. Be warned though, the computer as it stands right now is not exactly reliable, but fingers crossed!

Edward-O-Meter: 056

Chapter 12, Part 1

Tags: ,
The natives are: thankfulthankful
Basilacres_and_acres on September 10th, 2010 04:44 am (UTC)
Oh, inescapable jeans, I have a pair of those, I wear them with my inevitable undergarments and they match so well with my incarcerating tunic.

I sympathized with him. Washing the dishes?

It must be a hard thing, to be a father; living in fear that your daughter would meet a boy she liked, or that the spot might not come off the good china.

what mood does 'brown' represent anyway? I like your bit but my immediate thought was of course shit. Meaning she felt like shit. In fact she felt like an incredibly warm sample of shit.