tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49094620203072922912024-03-05T02:20:21.085-08:00Desperate SimsDesperate Sims is a story of crime, jealousy, and love, centralized around the family of the Kanes. Anything can happen when a Sim is desperate enough... And in this town, there are plenty.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.comBlogger177125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-82632585643815437352014-01-16T13:03:00.001-08:002014-01-16T13:44:04.708-08:00Truth Will Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Margo's gloves were sticky against her fingers. The last weeks of winter were upon Twinbrook; the temperatures had risen above freezing, but as one last hoorah for what had felt like the longest winter in history, a midnight snow had coated the town in silverine purity. It seemed serene; the ugly buildup of black slush on the roads looked clean once again, and the park, always freckled in footprints, was smooth... at least, for a little while longer. </div>
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But a blank slate begs to be drawn upon, and Margo and her cohorts had decided if winter needed one last snow, then they needed one last snowman.</div>
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But the warmth of the air and the warmth of her hands was already melting through their material, soaking into Margo's gloves and the first few inches of her sleeves. Margo didn't mind--in fact, she barely noticed. She never felt uncomfortable when grimy, and soggy gloves were no exception.</div>
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Besides, she had more on her mind than the current moisture level on her appendages.</div>
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"I really wish the whole thing wasn't so important. Over half the people I've talked to don't want to go, but it's social suicide if you don't! Doesn't make a whole lot of sense."<br />
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Kenzie looked up from their project momentarily to smile at Veronica, who rather than help was busy fretting and leaving a large dent in the snow where she paced. "That's high school for you, Ronnie. I'll dye my hair purple if it ever makes sense."<br />
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"You missed a spot. Just there." Margo nodded Kenzie towards a small bump protruding from her side of the snowman.<br />
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"At least you have a date, Kenz," Ronnie sputtered, clearly having no desire to drop the subject. "The prom's in like, a month... Everyone who's going to have a date already has one. Penny has a date, too... Not that that's really surprising." She sighed deeply. Her twin sister always had a lot more luck when it came to romance. Or anything social, for that matter.<br />
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"Why is that even such a big deal?" Kenzie laughed, surprised at Veronica's fervor at the predicament. "Last time I checked, we were committing social suicide just by <i>existing</i> in high school."<br />
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"Because it's prom," Margo whispered, offering a small shrug when Kenzie looked her way. "Who doesn't want to go to prom, at least once?"<br />
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Veronica sighed, toeing a small clump of snow on the ground while she grumbled under her breath. "It'd be fun."<br />
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"Then why don't we go? Together? Not as a date, just... you know." With another shrug, Margo sent Veronica an inquisitive glance from behind the snowman's slowly growing stature. "Keep each other company while Kenz is off being busy with her boooyfriend."<br />
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"He's not my boyfriend," Kenzie scoffed. "Yet, anyways. That's a good idea, though--that way we all get to go. Not really uncommon to go to prom stag, anyways--all the upperclassmen do it."<br />
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Ronnie considered this for a moment, but confusion quickly fell into her expression. "But Margo... What about Dylan? Aren't you guys... you know. ... Something?"<br />
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Margo finally looked up from their project, staring at Veronica with her brows furrowed but her cheeks steadily deepening into the red spectrum. "No. I don't know. Maybe?" She looked away, attempting to hide her embarrassment; in truth, Margo wasn't sure WHAT was going on, there. "We're not going together, though. He doesn't go to our school, and besides, I don't think school dances are something he'd be interested in. Too many people."<br />
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"Really? So... you're free to go with me?"<br />
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Margo smiled broadly. "Of course."<br />
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A laugh bellowed out of Veronica's mouth, shortly followed by a soft shriek of excitement. "Oh this is going to be fantastic, Margo! We can get each other corsages, and everything! We'll have to go dress shopping--I don't have anything to wear... I suppose I could borrow something of Penny's, but... Oh gosh, Penny!" Her eyes widened. "I need to go tell Penny! She's going tobe so excited I'm coming after all!"<br />
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Without a moment's hesitation, Veronica disappeared, her own excitement bubbling forth in a few well-placed skips that took her around the corner towards her car. Several 'bye!'s and 'see you tomorrow!'s were hurled after her, and she waved her hand above her head in recognition, but beyond that she had no hesitation in her mission.<br />
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As soon as she was gone, Kenzie giggled and got back to work etching a crease around the snowman's head with her fingertip. "Sometimes, I do not understand her," she muttered, shaking her head.<br />
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Margo knowingly smiled. "Yeah, I know. Me neither. But at least she's happy."<br />
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There was a brief pause before Kenzie eyed Margo over the rim of her glasses. "You wanted to go though, right? You're not just going to make her happy..."<br />
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Margo considered this for a moment. "I do. But I don't. I dunno. Makes me a bit nervous, but it's better than going alone. To be honest, I'm glad she doesn't have a date... Otherwise I probably wouldn't go at all. Unless I could convince Dylan, somehow..."<br />
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"That's for the best, anyways."<br />
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That response was not what Margo expected. "What do you mean?"<br />
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"Margo... I don't know how to say this." As if about to plunge her head under water, Kenzie took a deep breath and exhaled sharply before responding. "It's Dylan. I mean... he sounds great and all. But that's it--he <i>sounds</i> great. All you ever do is talk about him, but we've never met him--doesn't that seem a bit suspicious, to you?"<br />
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Margo's frown deepened as she intently stared at Kenzie's shoelaces. "Maybe. It's his family--they're really... shy."<br />
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"No, Margo, <i>you're</i> shy," she retorted. "He sounds like he's hiding. I wouldn't even believe he was real, if you didn't have photos."<br />
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"He's not hiding!" Margo exclaimed, defiant. "Just... doesn't want to be bothered."<br />
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"Look, I get it. He's mysterious, and charming, and it's your type, Margo. You like the bad boys." Margo's nose scrunched in disgust, but a point-of-fact chuckle rose from Kenzie's throat at the sight of it. "Oh come, don't even try to deny it. You know I'm right."<br />
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"Mmf."<br />
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"Just be careful, okay? I've heard... things."<br />
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Margo sheepishly bit her lower lip. "What do you mean, 'things'?"<br />
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"That his family is up to no good, here. That the police have their eye on them. That they've already caused a bit of ruckus. I know the idea of gypsies or whatever is 'romantic', Margo, but there's a reason they're stereotyped as being criminals... Sometimes, stereotypes are true."<br />
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This was something Margo was used to. Kenzie was an inquisitive person, and rarely left a rock unturned if she could help it. Ever the detective, Margo thought--but she never suspected her friend would put an aspect of her own life under scrutiny. It formed a gullet of betrayal in Margo's stomach, but she did her best to keep from crying. "Kenz, have you been digging up dirt on them?" she finally asked as calmly as she could manage.<br />
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"Maybe, I just was worried about--"<br />
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"Please. Just, stop." Margo shook her head, proverbially putting her foot down. "I know you're trying to look out for me, but trust me: I'm <i>fine</i>. Dylan, his family... They're just misunderstood. Trust me, okay?"<br />
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"I..." Although hesitant, Kenzie relented after another hurt look was sent her way. "Okay. I trust you."<br />
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"Promise?"<br />
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Kenzie sighed, but nodded. "Yes. I promise."<br />
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Margo attempted a smile, but as if caught on a fishing line it twitched a little on the dimple of her cheek; she had to rub it to get it to go away, leaving a wet palm print on her face. "Oh, ick... C'mon, let's go get something to eat before this place becomes a swimming pool."<br />
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With a smile, Kenzie looped her arm around her friend's and dragged her closer. "Sure thing, bud. I'm starving."<br />
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A growl erupted from Margo's stomach as she ascended the stairs onto the third floor of Twinbrook Foundation Hospital.<i> 'Uuuggh, I shouldn'tve eaten so much,'</i> she thought to herself, pressing a hand against her belly only to feel a small burp exit out her throat.<i> 'Good thing Mom's not making dinner tonight.'</i><br />
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Her focus quickly changed as she crossed the floor's main waiting room. This would be one of her last times seeing it--during one of these kinds of visits, anyways. Although it was technically bad news, when Margo had heard her father would be coming home again, her heart had nearly exploded from joy. He'd been here nearly 6 months. <i>6 months</i> in this horrific place; she had no idea how he didn't just die of boredom.<br />
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But, his freedom came at a price.<br />
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"I'm afraid... there's really nothing more we can do. The chemical is building up in his blood faster than we can filter it out, now. At this point, you have to decide what's more important. A few months at home, or another year here."<br />
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Dr. Pesce's words weren't comforting, but it was an easy decision. Another couple of miserable months was not worth it--not to her father. And though Margo would have kept him in this sterile box for eternity if it meant he would live forever, she was not about to look a gift horse in the mouth: she wanted him <i>home</i>.<br />
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This contemplation had herself so buried in her thoughts that she almost didn't hear the loud banter of voices coming from inside her father's room before it was too late; her hand had already grasped the handle when she heard her father, wheezing, speaking to someone she couldn't quite see through the blinds from her current angle.<br />
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<i>Soundtrack: Battlestar Sonatica - Bear McCreary</i> <b><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5vcFFf9aa7k" target="_blank">[Listen Here ♫]</a></b>
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"It was only a matter of time," he spoke, sounding defeated. "To be honest, I expected them sooner."<br />
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"And you're sure that's why they're here?"<br />
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"I wasn't at first--I thought they might just be here to taunt me. But then the break-in happened. If it hadn't been moved back to the lab for repairs, they likely would have it by now. They aren't like you, they don't have your... methods... but that doesn't mean they won't figure out where it is and try again. It isn't exactly hidden."<br />
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"They're nothing more than pickpockets and lockpicks." At this point, Margo recognized the second voice: her grandfather. But who was this '<i>they</i>' he kept referring to? "However, tragedy has a habit of turning the lowiest artist into Van Gogh. Amateur as they are, your worry is understandable. Desperate people are... dangerous."<br />
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"That is why you have to do this for me. I have no idea why they want it, but it's better we never find out."<br />
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"I'm inclined to agree. So long as you are sure this is what you want."<br />
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"I am." Bradley paused for a moment, before what to Margo sounded like him shifting slightly on the creaky hospital bed. "I've never asked you for anything before, father. I've always hated what you do. Still do. But dying has a way of changing perspectives. As you said: desperate people are dangerous."<br />
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Her grandfather chuckled. "Indeed."<br />
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"However... There is one more thing I must ask of you."<br />
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"Two favors in one lifetime? My, aren't we a spoiled child."<br />
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"Funny." Margo could practically hear him glower through the door. "But I'm being serious."<br />
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"You never could take a joke. What do you need?"<br />
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"It's not what I need. It's what Korva needs." Margo had to quickly clasp her mouth shut with her hand. Korva? What did she have to do with anything? "My condition has had a huge impact on her. She's become reckless, even violent." Margo rolled her eyes. <i>That was an understatement.</i> "There's little I can do. I made her promise to not hurt anyone, and despite her many shortcomings breaking a promise isn't one of them. But once I'm gone... I don't think that will be enough to stop her."<br />
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"I thought you didn't want me involved with your children."<br />
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"I don't. But it's not about what I want. It's about what Korey <i>needs</i>. Alesha isn't equipped to deal with her--you are. I hate to admit it, but Korva's more like you than like us. You need to help her, before it's too late."<br />
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"And Margo?"<br />
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"Margo is struggling, but she won't need anything more from you than a grandfather would give. When I'm gone, Alesha will manage." At this point, Margo found it so hard not to try and analyze what her father meant that she almost missed what he said next. "Korva, however, needs more... specialized education."<br />
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"I can do that... but you won't like what it will involve."<br />
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"No. No, I won't. I don't even like the thought of it. But what's the alternative? She runs away? Gets addicted to drugs? Ends up in prison? I'd much rather you find other ways of channeling her frustrations than completely self-destruct. She turns 13 in a couple of weeks, she still has time to change." <i>'Not likely,'</i> Margo groaned to herself. "And... I'd rather she end up like you than a common criminal."<br />
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"Generous of you to promote me beyond 'common'." Jebidiah sounded genuinely amused.<br />
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"Just... keep her out of harms way. I know keeping her out of trouble is impossible, but... Keep her safe."<br />
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Margo peeked through the door; her grandfather had moved, giving her better vision of him. He had paused next to the bed--and after a moment of contemplation, nodded. "Of course. Try as you might to believe otherwise, I love your children a great deal."<br />
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Some time passed. Margo was tempted to try and tip toe away without being seen through the blinds, or even bust through the door smiling without acting as if she'd heard anything, but something about the heavy sadness wearing on her father's face--something she had never seen before in all her 15 years--made her desperate to hear more. After what must have been several minutes, she was not disappointed.<br />
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"My inventions... I always saw them as my legacy. My way to live forever, and leave a footprint on the world. But I was too much of an idealist, assuming what I built would be used for good." Margo heard him sigh in pain. "I was so wrong, father. I create a time machine capable of so much discovery, but instead they use it to plan terrible things for the future. I create an artificial intelligence nearly human, but instead they're developing drones that cannot feel, to be little more than what, slaves? I create a device capable of curing any genetic illness, at the expense of my own life, but half the time it just..." His head buried into his hands; Margo tried hard to make out what he said next, but his words were muffled until he removed them. "And even then, only the richest people on earth could afford what they're charging for its use, now."<br />
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Just as cool and collected as he always was--calm in a way that gave Margo the willies--what Jebidiah said next almost sounded like it was said with bored omnipotence. "We are a selfish species."<br />
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Her father gritted his teeth together angrily. "And I will make them <b>pay</b> for it. When you're through, I don't want one calculator left intact. I want it to be like I never existed. No records. No notes. Nothing left for them to reconstruct. I have brought terrible things into the world, things that never should have existed--and I want you to help my daughter <b>erase</b> them."<br />
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"You want me to involve her in this? She may not be ready."<br />
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"Then wait until she is. Korva would do anything for me... She is loyal to a fault. God knows why, but she is. She is angry and hurting because she has no control over what is happening to me--but in <b>this</b>, she would. It would be my last gift to her, to end my legacy on my behalf. If that makes sense."<br />
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Jebidiah took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, groaning before his deep voice made one last pact. "It does. I don't know if I agree it's a good idea, but that isn't my prerogative. If you insist, I will."<br />
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Margo's mind was swimming. '<i>What on Earth are they talking about? Korva's education? </i><i>Dad's inventions?</i><i> Is he really asking Grandpa to destroy them?'</i> There was so much information--so much she could barely comprehend--that as she tried to piece together even some of it, more and more pieces slipped from her grasp, fading from her ability to understand what was going on. None of it made sense. <i>'Why?!'</i><br />
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But she would not find out. Not today, anyways; just as her eyes bobbed back to the window to see if she could catch anything else, she saw her grandfather's slow steps towards the door, and heard some muffled parting words.<br />
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She managed to disappear into a spare room just in time, missing an intersection with him by just moments. As he disappeared, a small part of her almost wished she had. It was selfish--and probably undeserved--but it was small wish: to be entrusted as well with whatever her sister soon would be.<br />
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By 5 P.M. that evening, the cold swept back in like a bad April Fool's joke. Slush began hardening, and the ground's soft, fluffy cotton blanket was replaced with crisp, hard sheets that crunched and broke off in large pieces when tred upon by unsuspecting victims.<br />
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As badly as Margo wished for spring, she almost wanted it to snow again; it was always warmer when it snowed.<br />
<br />
She sat balanced on the bottom run of the ranch's fence, resting uncomfortably and watching the cloudy sky mock expectations of a beautiful sunset. The sun just disappeared without herald beyond the horizon, leaving the shadows to slowly melt together.<br />
<br />
Those that were still visible were the largest--especially those of the horses she was watching. As if unaware that snow was an obstacle, Dusty and Badger lazily pawed their hooves at it, revealing sheltered grasses they could awake from slumber and ravage with their stomachs. It wasn't all that compelling, but Margo--and her current companion--watched it with curious interest.<br />
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"Look at 'em," Dylan drawled in his typical Irish brogue. "It's amazin', how they're able to find anythin underneath all that snow. Or willin' to eat it, for dat matter."<br />
<br />
"I dunno about Badger, but Dusty eats pretty much anything, at least that I've seen." Margo laughed, remembering fondly all the strange things Dusty had had the urge to nibble: loose hanging clothing, her reins, even another horse's tail. "It's nice though, to see them getting along. I didn't think Badger liked anyone but you."<br />
<br />
"Eh, every rogue needs a good woman in his life." When Margo looked up at him, she caught Dylan send her a teasing wink.<br />
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<br />
They fell back into lazy company again; Margo thought it not unlike what she saw of old married couples. No need to speak, but an ease of heart when relaxing in each others' presence. She felt no stress, no anxiety, none of her usual symptoms around others. Even Kenzie and Ronnie, as much as she loved them, were tiresome after a while... But Dylan didn't need to talk. Dylan didn't expect her to act a certain way. Dylan wasn't from a culture that wanted her to be the best or the brightest or... anything, really. It was refreshing, going from her world into his.<br />
<br />
But unfortunately, between Kenzie's warnings and the very odd assertions she had overheard from her father earlier that day, there was something Margo simply couldn't get out of her mind.<br />
<br />
"Dylan, can we talk for a minute?"<br />
<br />
"Ain't dat what we're doin'?"<br />
<br />
Margo rolled her eyes. "I mean about... serious stuff."<br />
<br />
"Oh bugger." Dylan groaned, causing Margo to flinch; he was a friend to her exactly because there was no pestering or prying on either side, and she hated having to alter that pretense, even if only once. But, after a moment of thought, Dylan eased himself off the fence he was resting against and settled down on the ground next to her. "If dat's what you want, I spose I can manage."<br />
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<br />
Margo thought for a moment; if it was Dylan's family that her father had been talking about--those "pickpockets and lockpicks"--she didn't want to outright say it. But she needed to know the truth.<br />
<br />
"Why did your family really come here? To Twinbrook?"<br />
<br />
"Reasons," he replied, causing her to furrow her brows. After a moment, she realized he'd actually said 'reasons', and not 'raisins'. His accent was charming, but often confusing.<br />
<br />
"Dylan, we've known each other months now... I know you have a hard time trusting outsiders, by now you should know, I'm different."<br />
<br />
"And why should I trust you?"<br />
<br />
"Because I'm not judging you," she stated firmly and honestly. "I just don't like being lied to."<br />
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<br />
She didn't think he would actually respond, at first. Dylan had been very secretive in all the time she had known him; he brought her to his family's campsite frequently and they all liked her, but whenever certain things came up, a hush always washed over them and left her feeling like an intruder. But, clearly she had proved herself to some extent, because after shaking off some snow from the hem of his jeans he began to speak in the most serious tone she'd ever heard him take.<br />
<br />
"Moy brother. Bout 2 years ago... he was just turnin' eight. Bright kid. Brighter than the whole lot of us, combined. He had a chance. A real chance to make sometin' of himself."<br />
<br />
"I didn't know you have a brother."<br />
<br />
"Had. Not have." Dylan bit his upper lip; he almost looked angry. "It was slow, at first. Barely even noticed the signs something was wrong. But finally, it got too bad for us to ignore--we took him to a hospital, despite how much my father despised the idea." He took a deep breath, then turned his face away from Margo so she could no longer see it. "They diagnosed him with a rare genetic disorder--incurable, but not terminal. But living like that to him was worse than dying. He was too young to make dat decision, but my parents let him. It was his life."<br />
<br />
"What happened?"<br />
<br />
"He applied to participate in an experimental new treatment program. It was dangerous, but he wasn't scared. More scared o' bein' sick, really. And wouldn't ya know it, he was accepted. They said it was real luck, te be picked. Well--it wasn't." He laughed--a horrible, disgusted laugh. "At first, he got better. But like all medicine, sometimes tings go wrong. After about o' month, he just... died. All his organs failed at once. Nottin' they could do."<br />
<br />
"Dylan..."<br />
<br />
"No mind you. It's te past, now. But every year, on his birtday, we come ta see him."<br />
<br />
Margo's eyes widened. "He died... here? In Twinbrook?"<br />
<br />
"Yeh. Buried up at ta cemetery."<br />
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<br />
Before Margo could inquire anything more, Dylan rushed to his feet and--like the flip of a switch--his entire demeanor changed from bitter to his usual carefree air.<br />
<br />
"'Nough witta gloomy chat," he said peppily while offering Margo his hand. "I tink it's a time you 'n I take a gallop 'round te lake."<br />
<br />
"Dylan, I have homework," she groaned into a chuckle. "Besides, I don't think my boss would be too happy about me riding Dusty outside the ranch--if something happened she could get sued."<br />
<br />
Dylan snorted in rebuke. "Nansense, te path is clear, 'n dat fat lump needs some exercise. Yer just doin' everybody a favor. 'Healthy horse is a happy owner.'"<br />
<br />
"If you get me in trouble..."<br />
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If Dylan cared about this possibility he didn't show it, because before Margo even realized what he was doing, he had already lobbed her over his shoulder and lifted her off the ground.<br />
<br />
"Aaiiieee! Dylan! DYLAN, PUT ME DOWN!" she hollered, trying to sound serious but failing amidst laughs she simply couldn't contain. "I'm serious, Dylan!" She tried adding for clarity, but it didn't work.<br />
<br />
"Gosh, don't any of ye civilized folk know how te have fun?" Dylan snickered, then carefully plotted his way over the frosty snow towards the horses. "Live a little, Margo! Yer a big girl!"<br />
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Margo felt a bit like a sack of potatoes as he flung her over Dusty's backside; the horse startled a little, as she hadn't even realized what was going on amidst her search for the perfect morsel, but she was far too lazy to do anything but turn her head around and stare at Margo's clambering arms with empty, bored eyes.<br />
<br />
Dusty's fur was long enough to grab ahold of, so after a few good tugs Margo managed to pull herself upright; not that that made the prospect of being atop her any less stressful.<br />
<br />
"This isn't a good idea... I've never ridden Dusty bareback before." Margo whimpered, trying to get some idea where to hold onto. "Actually, never ridden ANY horse bareback, alone."<br />
<br />
"'N what a great time to learn, wit me at yer side! C'mon, if dat homework of yers is so important, we need te get goin." Margo looked around and saw Dylan already astride Badger and heading towards the front of the stable.<br />
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It took some coaxing--Dusty was an easy ride but a stubborn, lazy one--but Margo managed to get the girl moving, plodding off in the path of footprints Badger had just left behind.<br />
<br />
'This is such a bad idea,' Margo whined to herself. As she was considering the possibility of a carrot on a stick working remarkably well on Dusty, she noticed that Dylan and herself had not been alone at the ranch like she previously believed; in the small ring cleared out for jumping practice, none other than Daisy de Wynter was busy trying to coax her own horse to do something it clearly did not want to.<br />
<br />
"Mumba, you are being so--bloody--stubborn!" she growled so loudly even Margo could hear from a distance. "There's no ice around the jump, it's completely safe, the jump's set half height it usually is at practice... What is WRONG with you?!"<br />
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Margo pause for a bit to watch; the last thing she wanted to do was pass by unannounced at the wrong time, and get blamed for Daisy's failings. She was curious, anyways; although Mumba was finicky, she was a solid jumper. Daisy should be having no problems.<br />
<br />
But clear as a summer morning sky, right before Mumba reached the obstacle, she halted; and this time, instead of just coming to a stop, her entire body flung up into the air, rearing and screeching so loudly that Margo couldn't make out Daisy's profanity as she slipped backwards off the saddle.<br />
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<br />
Margo winced and turned away; it wasn't a horrible fall, the snow was still soft enough to provide a nice cushion, but Daisy clearly hadn't mastered the art of tumbling from cheerleading because nothing about the way she landed was graceful.<br />
<br />
At the very least, Mumba skittered off in the other direction without adding more injury.<br />
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<br />
She waited until Daisy had righted herself before guiding Dusty into the ring, not realizing she had done it like second nature to her.<br />
<br />
"Daisy, a-a-are you alright?" Margo stuttered, her voice cracking.<br />
<br />
Daisy, busy brushing the snow off her backside, didn't even raise her head to acknowledge Margo's presence. "I'm fine, freak face... Just go away."<br />
<br />
"I-I-I just..." Margo gulped. Her mouth was drying over fast, but now was not the time to be nervous. Deep breath. Pretend you aren't Margo--pretend you're the instructor, pretend you're Christina. "I noticed, you're seizing on the reins a bit much on your approach--you're sending Mumba the wrong signals, that's why she keeps refusing the jump."<br />
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<i>Now</i> Margo had Daisy's attention--and her fury.<br />
<br />
"Sending the wrong signals?" Daisy spat. "What the hell makes you think you know what you're talking about, Margo? I know what I'm doing. I'm not an idiot. This horse is just a temperamental headcase."<br />
<br />
"I... I-I don't think you're right. I know she's antsy and high strung, but I just watched you--I know what I saw."<br />
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<br />
"Look, weasel. I am twice the rider you will ever be--working here shoveling crap all day doesn't make you an expert. In fact, of the two of us, only one of us actually owns a horse; and guess what, it isn't you."<br />
<br />
"But--"<br />
<br />
"Speaking of which, I hope you have permission to ride that thing, because I sure as hell know it isn't yours. And what do you know, I know the owner, and you know me--I just can't keep a secret."<br />
<br />
Margo was so frozen by Daisy's threat that when Dylan's voice came from behind her, she almost fell right off the horse.<br />
<br />
"Don't listen te her, Margo," he said with a half sneer. "Te shit's just comin' outta her horse's arse and right up t'rough her mouth. Amazin' feat o' science, but it ain't worth yer time. Let's go."<br />
<br />
This left Daisy infuriated; her face, already reddened from embarrassment, turned an even deeper shade. "She's going to hear about the company you've got while you're supposed to be <i>working</i>, too!" She screamed, clenching her fists at her side. "Good luck keeping your <i>job</i>!"<br />
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<br />
Luckily, Margo didn't have to respond; Dylan had begun leading Dusty in the other direction, turning the four of them away from the hazard and back towards their original destination.<br />
<br />
But even as they got out of earshot, Margo couldn't get Daisy's accusation out of her mind.<br />
<br />
"I don't know, Dylan... Maybe I should put Dusty away, this is a bad idea."<br />
<br />
"And give her the satisfaction of scarin' ye?" Dylan wagged his finger at her. "I don't think so. Besides, no one's gonna come stormin' down here at her whim, she ain't a fairy princess--and who'd you believe, whiny little her or sweet little you?"<br />
<br />
"I... I don't know."<br />
<br />
He laughed. "Ye worry too much. Relax."<br />
<br />
"Yeah... I'm sorry. I guess you're right."<br />
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Margo looked up at him again, this time catching a glimmer of pride in his eye. "What?" she mumbled, nervous.</div>
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"Lookit you! Ridin' bareback like a champ. I d'no why you were so worried. You're t'ree times te rider she <i>thinks </i>she is--and dat's really sayin' sometin."</div>
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Margo giggled shyly and bit her lip. "I suppose," she agreed after some contemplation. But without even thinking, more words just fell out of her mouth. "Thank you, Dylan. For trusting me."</div>
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He looked taken aback. Perhaps it was part of his culture--maybe it was just who he was, too--but Dylan was rarely on the receiving or giving end of such a statement. Things were not done for gratitude; all was done in trade, in equality, no need for anything else. Debts were almost seen as an insult.</div>
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But she knew more about him, now. She now knew why, the day she had met him, he seemed to understood her feeling of loss--and that, to her, was worth the gratitude. The comfort of knowing someone who felt her pain without a need to over-analyze it. It just simply was; it existed. An understanding. An unspoken bond.</div>
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"No skin off moy back," he responded in a jesting way, but seeing the softness in Margo's eyes, smiled and extended his hand to grab hers from her side. "But aye. Yer welcome, lass."</div>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-9465531329052700402013-02-20T17:13:00.002-08:002013-02-20T17:17:16.377-08:00Beneath the MistletoeOh, the holidays--when families travel thousands of miles to see each other, spend more than they can afford on presents, when everyone is forced to listen to every Christmas song in existence each time they enter a store until well into the new year. It can be a time of hardship, but the flying and the spending and the singing is all in a pursuit of something worth every penny: that feeling of warmth and excitement the moment they wake up on December 25th.<br />
<br />
It's not something that anyone would expect to find in a hospital; the cold floors and white-washed walls don't lend itself well to the spirit of the season. Even the decorated trees seem sterile under the radiant lights. But for some, that isn't a roadblock that can't be passed.<br />
<br />
For some, it's not the location that matters--just the destination.<br />
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"DADDY!" Korva cried as soon as Alesha gently pushed the door to the hospital room open. The sudden squeal nullified any attempt her mother had made trying not to wake up the entire wing--but the world outside this room was quickly forgotten as soon as Alesha saw her husband's smiling face.<br />
<br />
The room was suddenly luminous; even Bradley, sitting tiredly in his wheelchair, felt a tickle at the corner of his eye when he saw his daughter running towards him with arms outstretched to meet his.<br />
<br />
"Korey--oh, you look beautiful, sweetie," Brad choked, weakly raising his own hands to grasp hers when she reached him. "You <i>all</i> do," he remarked when he turned his gaze to the other two girls hanging behind Korva with tender smiles on their lips.<br />
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As Korva carefully began to crawl into his lap, the rest of the crew shuffled into Bradley's room with the door left carelessly open behind them. "Merry Chriss-miss, Daddy!" Korva whispered into his ear as he wrapped his arms around her, hers encircling his neck and nearly crushing his windpipe. "The bike is so so so so perfect. Everybody at school's gonna be soooo jealous."<br />
<br />
"Careful Korey, you don't want to hurt him," Alesha mothered, but still barely giving her husband a chance to breathe as she swept in and planted a kiss on his lips.<br />
<br />
"You guys are going to be the death of me." Bradley wheezed when they finally gave him some space. His eyes met Margo's and glimmered when he saw the care etched in her smile. She tried not to cry herself, but a familiar sniffle was unmistakable when she moved in and placed her arms around her mother's.<br />
<br />
After almost a full minute, they finally pulled back--but only after Brad had exchanged hugs and kisses with all of them, of course. The break finally gave Margo's voice a chance to chime in with the rest. "Thank you so much for the camera, Daddy--I promise, I'll take lots and lots of pictures for you."<br />
<br />
"Perfect." His gaze flickered quickly between both girls. "I can't say I got out much to do some shopping, but your mom is... very helpful." Alesha rolled her eyes and chuckled when she caught his teasing wink.<br />
<br /><a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2013/02/beneath-mistletoe.html">Read More...</a>
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<br />
"Oh, why hello! Looks like the whole gang's already here... Should we come back later?" A light rapping sound on the door drew their attention to the entrance, where two gray-haired heads peeked around the corner with quizzical expressions.<br />
<br />
"Meredith!" Alesha said sweetly, waving her hand to invite them to enter. "Jebidiah! No, no, of course not--the more the merrier. Merry Christmas!" She reluctantly drew herself away from Brad to extend them both a warm, greeting hug.<br />
<br />
Without warning, Margo found herself in their embrace as well. "Oh you little beanpole--you're taller every time I see you." Meredith tutted at her when she finally released her from a tight squeeze. "You're going to be as tall as your grandfather soon if you don't quit sprouting."<br />
<br />
"She would only be so lucky," Jebidiah retorted, one eyebrow raised. As he withdrew and rested his weight against the hospital bed, he added, "There's nothing wrong with a girl with some height to her. She's perfect just the way she is." Margo blushed as her grandfather wiggled his nose at his snarking wife.<br />
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As everyone began to attempt to make themselves comfortable in a room severely lacking in comforts, another bright-eyed face popped through the door.<br />
<br />
"Oh, hey! Why did no one tell me there was a party going on?" Lilobot joked, inviting herself in with a springy step.<br />
<br />
The room chuckled--except Alesha, who spoke up with a scolding tone. "Well, you would've known we'd be here if you'd checked your answering machine--I wanted you to meet us back at the house, first."<br />
<br />
Lilobot cringed, her gears whirring distinctly louder while she shuffled towards the group. "Oh. I... must have forgotten. I am sorry, I--er--I had to go--there was this--"<br />
<br />
"Don't worry about it sweetheart," Alesha smiled, shaking her head dismissively. "You're here now, that's all that matters. Get in here and make yourself at home... If you can." Unfortunately, as Alesha surveyed the room, she began to realize that there really wasn't much here to be at home with.<br />
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<br />
Except one thing: each other.<br />
<br />
As time ticked on, more and more people began to make an appearance, and space to 'make yourself at home' quickly disappeared. The room was already cramped to begin with, but in order to fit the decorations in, a lot of seating had to be sacrificed. It left most of the "party guests" milling around the small floor space, almost like caged animals.<br />
<br />
But that was not how anyone felt. As each tiny patch of real estate was taken by a new smiling face, the entire room only grew brighter and brighter. Despite the cramped quarters, not a single appeared any less worse for wear--in fact, just the opposite.<br />
<br />
You would never know such happiness could be found in such a stark, white world, but every person made the room less a hospital and more a home for every person there.<br />
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Well... with a few exceptions.
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<br />
Within a couple of hours, most of the open air was traded in for a chance to be surrounded by family and friends. Even Brad's former co-workers made their appearance; not one person who cared for him wanted him to be alone, today.<br />
<br />
Needless to say, as the last of Brad's worldly companions filled this little sardine can to the brim, Bradley was absolutely overwhelmed with emotion. It was exactly what he would have wished for.<br />
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Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who was overwhelmed.
<br />
<br />
Despite how much she cared for every person there, Margo could feel the walls slowly opening their jaws to swallow her. Everywhere she moved, she bumped into someone; she couldn't even hear the sound of her breathing, losing all sense but the mingling voices that, combined, made a very odd and unintelligable conversation.<br />
<br />
"There's not a lot of leeway, but if we're careful--"<br />
"--so bright, did you decorate it your--"<br />
"--great opportunity, but we have to decide if it's--"<br />
"--found a way to integrate the module into--"<br />
"--so fast and I really don't know how I'm--"<br />
"--if that's okay with you!"<br />
<br />
She had to get out of there.<br />
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She wondered: would they notice if she disappeared? Everyone was so enraptured that they had completely forgotten she existed; even Korva, her last choice of company, was captivated by every word out of Dad's mouth, despite not understanding any of it. She wished she could be that fascinated too, but it was no use. Everyone had arrived to make sure her father didn't go thirsty, but now she was drowning.</div>
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"I'm going t-to go find a vending machine," she said as loudly as she could, but her light-headedness made everything, including her words, a blur to her senses. "Does anyone w-want anything?"</div>
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No response. She hadn't wanted one, but the emptiness it filled her with was so palpable she thought she might vomit.</div>
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Her retreat to the hall was too easy; no one saw her tiptoe away from the group, or how the door closed easily behind her. Each voice still continued to wash over her, but they were muffled enough that she could melt against the glass and be lulled out of her anxiety.</div>
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She was so relaxed that when a slight shuffle resonated a ways down the hall, her entire body snapped back to life, heart pounding. "H-hello?" she whimpered; hospitals spooked her on a good day, even when they were flooded with activity. Today, though--at least in this ward of the hospital--things were very quiet... almost haunting.<br />
<br />
However, the noise certainly wasn't a ghost. Margo felt silly once she realized source of the noise was just a boy--but fright quickly became confusion as she studied his features. "... Ian?"<br />
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His head whipped in her direction. She was still halfway down the hall, but she could already tell that his face had soured the moment he made eye contact. "Who else," he groaned, shifting his weight off the wall to take a few steps towards her.<br />
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"Why are <i>you </i>here?" she asked timidly,<br />
<br />
"I have a better question--the <i>hell</i> is that on your head?" Ian scrunched his nose in disgust, raising his finger to point towards the top of her head.<br />
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Margo's eyelids began to flutter, befuddled. Was he serious? "They're... antlers? You know, reindeer antlers?" She gave her head a little shake and wiggle, causing the bells inside the ears to jingle.<br />
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He shook his head, turning to begin walking away. "... Right, okay."<br />
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<br />
"Now, your turn--" she prodded, not allowing him more than a couple feet of distance. "--why are you here?"<br />
<br />
"What, is the hospital somehow out of bounds for me? Do you have to question <i>everything</i> I do?" His eyes seemed to growl at her; but when her face saddened, Ian grumbled and reluctantly obliged her request.<br />
<br />
"If you must know, my Dad's decided his Christmas present to himself is to keep me out of trouble. He doesn't trust my Mom to keep an eye on me, so --" He waved his arms out in front of him, walking a few steps backwards to "present" the hospital. "--here I am, giving <i>him </i>a present: pretending for 24 hours that he can keep me on a leash."<br />
<br />
"That's... nice." It was an attempt to sound genuine, but Ian's chuckle mocked Margo's horrible lying prowess. "Well... where would you rather be?" she asked.<br />
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Ian scowled. "Anywhere but here."<br />
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"... Oh." Margo bit her lower lip. At this point, the conversation didn't appear as if it was going to go anywhere; Ian was clearly not in a good mood, and she was out of ideas. She was almost tempted to strike off and explore the hospital on her own, when: "... Oh!"
<br />
<br />
"Oh?" Although he didn't seem too interested, Ian had apparently surrendered to the fact he was stuck indulging Margo's whimsy. "... What?"<br />
<br />
"Look up!"<br />
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<br />
"Uuh... okay?" Ian blinked a couple of times as he stared directly above them. "It's... a weed."<br />
<br />
"Not just any weed--" Margo seemed to sing into her words, bouncing on her tiptoes to try and get a better look at the small sprig hanging from the cieling. "It's mistletoe!"<br />
<br />
Ian's face could not have fallen faster. "You've gotta be kidding me," he groaned, taking a small step in retreat. "You better not be expecting anything."<br />
<br />
Margo tilted her head back down to pout at him, but still maintaing a small smile. "But it's tradition!"<br />
<br />
His entire body seemed to reel in rejection. "Yeah, a stupid one."<br />
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The way Ian seemed to treat her proposal like some sort of allergy destroyed all enthusiasm she had managed to muster. "I dunno," she said in a quiet, mousey voice. "It's kinda sweet, encouraging people to, I guess, be a little silly for a second or two."<br />
<br />
For several moments, they were both silent, their gazes refusing to meet. She didn't want to feel insulted, but Margo couldn't help it; most of what she liked Ian thought was stupid; it was normally fine, but this one actually hurt. "I wish you didnt think it was stupid," she added weakly.<br />
<br />
"Why?" Ian's brows furrowed, and his hands began speaking of disappointment as they moved wildly in front of him, enunciating his actual words. "Why does it matter what I think? If it makes you happy fantasizing about wiggling a branch over someone's head to have an excuse to exchange saliva, that's <i>fine </i>by me. Just dont expect <i>me </i>to care. My opinion shouldn't be important."<br />
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Margo finally looked back at him. "It's not that, it's..." Well, for a second at least. Her eyes quickly turn back towards the wall. "Nevermind."<br />
<br />
Ian tapped his foot, now looking beyond annoyed. He hated when she did this. "No, you started--you gotta finish. Spit it out."<br />
<br />
"Its.... this place." Margo shrugged, trying not to become emotional--and failing. "I hate coming here, Ian. I hate seeing my dad like this and I hate that my entire family has to box themselves up in a little room because we can't go anywhere else and still be together and I hate how they throw a few bows on the wall and pretend like this place isn't still full of sick people and dying people and crazy people and--"<br />
<br />
Margo felt a brief tap on the side of her arm, snapping her out of her tirade. "Hey hey, calm down," Ian murmured his voice an attempt at comforting. He let out a heavy sigh. "I dont get it though, how is mistletoe any different than the rest of that crap?"<br />
<br />
She shrugged again, this time finally able to meet his gaze. "Everything else, its just <i>stuff</i>. More pretend holiday fluff. But mistletoe..." Her voice tapered off, pausing as she imagined all the invisible walls a hospital is built of. The illness, the death, the separation. "Its the one thing I can see in this place that doesn't drive people apart. It brings them together."<br />
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<br />
Ian said nothing for a while; the longer he didn't, the more she wanted to run away. He though she was being silly, just like he thought mistletoe was silly. She knew it. "I know. I know, its stupid," she said, unable to hold back a small sob. "Its stupid and I shouldn't have told you. Just forget I said anything."<br />
<br />
There was another pause, before his voice finally returned--this time, so devoid of annoyance it didn't even sound like him anymore. "No, it's fine," he said quietly, turning his head in shame. "I get it."<br />
<br />
"Ian, i just..." Margo couldn't bottle it in anymore; she'd already let too much go. "I just wish it wasn't this way. Everyone keeps leaving, Ian. They're going to keep leaving. There's nothing I can do to stop it. I'm surrounded by everyone that loves me, but I've never felt more alone.'<br />
<br />
'I know its wrong, I know I'm just being silly, I'm so lucky to have what I do but I'm so afraid to lose it all, I can't handle this all on my own, I'm not brave enough and I just can't--"<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Judy Garland (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5g4lY8Y3eoo">Click to Listen! ♫</a>)</b></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Have yourself a merry little Christmas,</span></i><br />
<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Let your heart be light,</span></i></i></div>
<i>
</i>
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<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Next year all our troubles will be</span></i></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">out of sight,</span> </i></div>
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<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Have yourself a merry little Christmas</span></i></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Make the yule-tide gay</span> </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bTWX83zEkrY/USRzPg_iVlI/AAAAAAAAaFY/TpmtqxixB2g/s1600/23-Screenshot-985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bTWX83zEkrY/USRzPg_iVlI/AAAAAAAAaFY/TpmtqxixB2g/s1600/23-Screenshot-985.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Next year all our troubles will be</span></i></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">miles away,</span> </i></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Once again as in olden days</span></i><br />
<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Happy golden days of yore</span></i></i></div>
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</i>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xw6MUDjbc0c/USRzR9QZNuI/AAAAAAAAaFo/5BEw1nIz83Y/s1600/25-Screenshot-979.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xw6MUDjbc0c/USRzR9QZNuI/AAAAAAAAaFo/5BEw1nIz83Y/s1600/25-Screenshot-979.jpg" /></a></div>
<i></i><br />
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<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Faithful friends who are dear to us </span></i></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Will be near to us once more</span> </i></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CA5eT240Gig/USRzS3gM0NI/AAAAAAAAaFw/Gc_xV-EsYJ4/s1600/26-Screenshot-861.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CA5eT240Gig/USRzS3gM0NI/AAAAAAAAaFw/Gc_xV-EsYJ4/s1600/26-Screenshot-861.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Someday soon, we all will be together</span></i></i><br />
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">If the Fates allow</span> </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bGvkWkmFAzw/USRzUZCZwzI/AAAAAAAAaF4/bcN2o-HzQ3E/s1600/27-Screenshot-981.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bGvkWkmFAzw/USRzUZCZwzI/AAAAAAAAaF4/bcN2o-HzQ3E/s1600/27-Screenshot-981.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow</span> </i></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-efZGvmvFVlE/USR_DKPUsNI/AAAAAAAAaG8/aNpyuumwH9c/s1600/1-Screenshot-873.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-efZGvmvFVlE/USR_DKPUsNI/AAAAAAAAaG8/aNpyuumwH9c/s1600/1-Screenshot-873.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">So have <b>yourself</b></span><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"> </span> </b></i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i>a <b>merry </b>little Christmas </i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #676767; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">... now.</span> </i></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
A torrent of goosebumps flooded up Margo's arms and legs; his lips against her cheek made her shiver in a way that was foreign to her. So foreign it felt a little scary, but not enough to make her want it to stop. When it did, it felt like a weight had lifted off her chest--like the only thing left holding her down to earth was a string tied to her her feet.<br />
<br />
As he pulled away, his nose brushed a few stray locks away from her ear. "You never have to be alone, Margo," he said gruffly--not without care, but with such an intense earnestness it could not be said in kindness. "Not if you don't want to be."</div>
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<br />
Her heart was beating so fast that when he had moved away, she couldn't register that any time had passed; everything was melting together. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. "I don't--I don't know what to--" She desperately tried to express, her fingers pressing against her cheek where his kiss had fallen.<br />
<br />
He paused in his flight to turn and give her a surly smile. "Consider it a christmas present. Just don't tell anyone else, I don't want a reputation of helping damsels in distress, ya hear?"<br />
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Margo laughed, almost squealing. "Uh, I..." Her lips stammered, almost incapable of words. "Don't worry--I d-don't think anyone would believe me if I tried."<br />
<br />
Ian considered this for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Huh. Yeah, probably not, but don't chance it." He gave her a sour look, but continued, jesting, "No good deed goes unpunished."<br />
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For a moment Margo thought he was turning to leave, but again, he halted in his tracks. This time, he twisted his head around far enough to look straight at her, making her knees reconsider their purpose in life.<br />
<br />
"Ya know, there's something I just really don't get, about you. The things you make me do, Margo..." He seemed confused, speaking of her like a witch with a man under her spell. "The things you make me say... Nobody else can do that, ya know?"<br />
<br />
She swallowed, unsure how she was supposed to feel about that. "I... no. No, I didn't know. Is that bad?"<br />
<br />
Ian shrugged. "As long as you keep me in one piece... I guess not." He smirked and turned away. "See you later."<br />
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<br />
<i>'Well... That doesn't sound too hard,'</i> Margo thought to herself as she watched him close the door behind him.<br />
<br />
Where he was going--she had no idea. Clearly he'd decided his promise to his dad wasn't worth sticking around for, or maybe he just wanted to leave her feeling like he'd just ripped her heart from her chest and taken it for a ride on a ferris wheel. All things considered, she was okay with that. Of all the ways he'd left her before, this was definitely her favorite.<br />
<br />
She turned to return back to the room where her family had undoubtedly still not noticed she had disappeared from. As she did, Margo considered something Ian had said. "You never have to be alone."<br />
<br />
Margo wasn't sure if she believed him or not--she certainly couldn't always choose whether she was alone or not--but for now, it was a thought worth holding onto. The faces might change, friends and loves will always come and go, but not everyone. And, perhaps, not him.<br />
<br />
Maybe she'd feel alone, but really, she never truly would be.<br />
<br />
----------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
HEY GUIZ! So, this took forever and a day, and I'm sorry about that. I originally intended it to go up on Christmas Eve, but I guess 2 months late will just have to suffice. My writing is horribly rusty, but as you might know if you follow me on tumblr, I really enjoyed sneaking in some hints as to how this Season ends. If you remember to come back to this after the finale, I'll be interested to see if you guys can pick up on them. ;)<br />
<br />
I want to apologize again--especially for how negligent I've been keeping up with what everyone else has been up to--but all is said and done, and the best I can do is keep coming back if I can. You guys are all truly amazing, and I love every single one of you guys. If you could cash in my debt of gratitude, you'd all be millionaires.<br />
<br />
I hope all of you guys did have a wonderful holiday season, and continue to have an amazing year. I have a feeling 2013 is going to be a great one--so let's make it happen!<br />
Cheers! ♥<br />
<!--3--></blockquote>
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-80353112871535242702012-12-16T10:42:00.001-08:002012-12-16T10:42:50.829-08:00Eye of the Storm"Police are still on the lookout for the suspect who allegedly broke into the Critical Care Ward of the Twinbrook Foundation Hospital last Saturday evening. Luckily the wing, which is normally closed off from the public due to the sensitive nature of its patients and the valuable equipment kept in their facilities, suffered little more than a few broken locks and a few unanswered questions.<br />
<br />
"The witness accounts suggest that the intruder was a male in his mid twenties, but police are advising the public to be on the lookout for any hooded, masked figures seen in the vicinity, and report any suspicious activity immediately.<br />
<br />
"What the masked intruder's intentions were are still unclear; the police report that nothing was stolen, but an unnamed source says that the man looked as if he was in a hurry to find something. His search was cut short when a surprised nurse pulled the alarm, but so far it would appear that no critical damage was caused or anything of importance was stolen. The only thing that they suspect may have gone missing was--"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pwyo97W9tZ0/UMfShfGMqiI/AAAAAAAAZ38/0soxspLua9w/s1600/01-Screenshot-591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pwyo97W9tZ0/UMfShfGMqiI/AAAAAAAAZ38/0soxspLua9w/s1600/01-Screenshot-591.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Margo, why don't you shut that off? It's sorta dimming the mood in here--come sit with us!"<br />
<br />
"<i>Which may suggest that the hospital was not the--</i>"<br />
<br />
"Maaaaaarrrggoooo..."<br />
<br />
"<i>--and that there may be more--</i>"<br />
<br />
*CLICK*<br />
<br />
"Hey, I was watching that!" Margo sulked, turning her head to look at the two girls sitting cross-legged on the floor behind her.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TIzgZH7RokM/UMfSiZALK6I/AAAAAAAAZ4E/jv_0LwAhp-w/s1600/02-Screenshot-593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TIzgZH7RokM/UMfSiZALK6I/AAAAAAAAZ4E/jv_0LwAhp-w/s1600/02-Screenshot-593.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"C'mon, come join us!" Veronica said smiling, patting the empty piece of carpet next to her. "I'm pretty sure they'll be covering the story again tomorrow... like yesterday... and the day before..." She grumbled and rolled her eyes.<br />
<br />
Margo shrugged, finally tucking her legs beneath her to settle down next to the other two. "Yeah, I guess. I just wanted to see if found out anything new..."<br />
<br />
"Besides, there are much more important things in the news!" Kenzie and Margo gave Ronnie a bit of a 'look', encouraging her to continue. She cleared her throat, adopting her most newscast worth voice, and stated, "<i>An unknown source has reported that Ms. Kenzie Howell, a Sophomore at Westlake High, was seen with her tongue lodged down the throat of Freshman Mack Leman yesterday after Newspaper Club--</i>"<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dWyodG5zUaE/UMfSjT1UzxI/AAAAAAAAZ4M/mdiljo-eayE/s1600/03-Screenshot-594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dWyodG5zUaE/UMfSjT1UzxI/AAAAAAAAZ4M/mdiljo-eayE/s1600/03-Screenshot-594.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Kenzie's groan cut Veronica off, launching the other two girls into giggles. "Alright alright... Just... quiet, okay! Yeah. I confess. We... kinda might have kissed a little. But it was nothing like that! It was just... I don't know. It just happened. Actually, it was kinda awkward--we rushed to say goodbye and then he just sort of ran away. I'm not sure how to feel about it."<br />
<br />
"Oh come on, Kenzie. You two have been oggling each other for months. I bet he was just nervous!" Ronnie gave her a small, knowing smile--the way she did whenever she'd unraveled a particularly troubling puzzle.<br />
<br />
Margo nodded encouragingly. "Yeah--who knows, maybe you'll be the first of us to actually get a real boyfriend..."<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6YZVu01sVmEEMscpRjWZURuafeV6lbbgKqboCBZrONj1TdR63rCHuCAwyiKh9UxQ78o74N-PvvMFuGG_OzgaEGf94PzmBVkyeLPlLzpj1lN0mwcwHSycYeGEQfIjp4WAcYd7-F6rTw/s1600/04-Screenshot-596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo6YZVu01sVmEEMscpRjWZURuafeV6lbbgKqboCBZrONj1TdR63rCHuCAwyiKh9UxQ78o74N-PvvMFuGG_OzgaEGf94PzmBVkyeLPlLzpj1lN0mwcwHSycYeGEQfIjp4WAcYd7-F6rTw/s1600/04-Screenshot-596.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
The other two froze for a moment, then broke out into hysterical laughter.<br />
<br />
Margo's stomach turned over on itself. "What? ... W-why are you laughing?"<br />
<br />
"Really, Margo?" Kenzie sniggered, wiping a small tear from underneath her glasses. "And what would you call Dylan? Almost everything that has come out of your mouth for the past <i>month</i> has been 'Dylan this' and 'Dylan that'--by anyone else's standards, you guys are <i>totally</i> dating."<br />
<br />
"But--I... I don't know. I just--it's just... it's complicated." Margo whimpered. "He's great, but--"<br />
<br />
"But you're insane." Ronnie shrugged when both the other girls looked her way, confused. "We all know it. You're in love."<br />
<br />
"Am not!" Margo scowled. "I so am not!"<br />
<br />
"Are to!"<br />
<br />
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<br />
Suddenly, the bickering faded away as echoes into her ears. Her gaze, which had steered away from eye-contact instantly because of embarrassment, had spotted something particularly unusual just a few feet away from where she sat. She froze, becoming unaware of everything else around her for the briefest of infinities.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2012/12/eye-of-storm.html">Read more...</a>
<div id="fullpost">
<br />
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I remember that time you told me, you said,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Love is touching souls"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Surely you touched mine</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
'Cause part of you pours out of me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In these lines from time to time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You taste so bitter and so sweet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Still, I'd be on my feet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I would still be on my feet</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6voJjexENok">"A Case of You" - Joni Mitchell</a></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9SHlsrLuGwc/UMfSmZGk2dI/AAAAAAAAZ4k/AIMB5a3vr-A/s1600/06-Screenshot-600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9SHlsrLuGwc/UMfSmZGk2dI/AAAAAAAAZ4k/AIMB5a3vr-A/s1600/06-Screenshot-600.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
It had not been there before. She would know; she spent most of the time in her room wishing she was elsewhere, which involved quite a lot of staring wistfully out the window.<br />
<br />
But it was even sooner than that; she could have sworn that less than a minute ago, her window had been nothing but a blank canvas of fog and frost.<br />
<br />
Not now, though. Now, it held one image--the "I Was Here" of romance novels. A heart, etched out in the window's glaze.<br />
<br />
"I'll... be right back," Margo stuttered, her thoughts humming so loud that the rest of Kenzie and Ronnie's conversation--and their questions about her sudden departure--were now nothing but futile wastes of breath.<br />
<br />
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<br />
The snow bit at her ankles angrily, but Margo did not care. "Hello?" she whispered bird-like, in a quiet sing-song. "Is... is anyone there?"<br />
<br />
Her eyes searched the area, but no living being was anywhere within her range of sight. There was something, though: footprints. And more specifically, hoofprints. They cluttered the ground around the pond, particularly in one spot close to the tallest cattails.<br />
<br />
Margo trailed to them, as they almost seemed to be an arrow pointing her where to go; and the dip in the snow helped give her feet a small flat place out of the cold.<br />
<br />
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<br />
She searched the ground, but there was nothing. "If you didn't want to see me, why did you come?" she asked the wind, a hopeful prayer that her words would be carried to him.<br />
<br />
Instead, though, she got her answer in the form of not sound, but light.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
It has only seemed to be a speck of frost at first, but as the clouds above slowly began shifting and the rays of the moon fell upon the place that she stood, something in the tall grass caught the light and reflected into her eyes. Margo stood still, wary but curious as she tried to tell what exactly it was she was seeing.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until the moon was hidden behind the clouds once again that the shape of the object suddenly became visible--and her face split open into a ridiculous, goofy grin. "Oooh!" she gasped to the empty yard, then took a few clumsy steps through the snow-caked plant and reached up to snatch the treasure weighing down it's tallest leaf.<br />
<br />
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<br />
It felt like solid ice in her palm, so Margo exhaled on its surface a few times before taking a more thorough look at what exactly 'it' was: a large, heart-shaped pendant of soft lilac, framed and hung on a long string of silver. It was beautiful in its simplicity; everything that Dylan had always told her <i>she</i> was.<br />
<br />
She giddily--but carefully--slipped the chain around her neck, then carefully bobbed through her previous path through the snow. As she did, Margo considered what exactly she was going to say to her friends, who were probably still probably grumbling in her room about how confusing she was. Should she tell them about the necklace, or make something else up?<br />
<br />
It definitely wasn't going to help her case of "Margo vs. Love Towards Dylan", but even with the weight around her neck, she still wasn't exactly she what it was she felt. Was a necklace enough to make her love him...? Most of her said no, but a shallow, fickle voice at the back of her mind was still screaming with glee. How could she not?!<br />
<br />
Whatever the case, she knew one thing for sure: when she figured out exactly how she felt, there would be no one in the world she would be able to hide it from.<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
Korva pressed her hand against the door handle lightly, pretending that every 'tick' was the dial on a bank vault, with guards and alarms poised to react if she made even the slightest mistake. Ordinarily she would make as much noise as she pleased, but so far, she had remained invisible; doctors had gazed right past her, nurses brushed past with urgency, and patients didn't question her.<br />
<br />
It was an amazing feeling, to be unnoticed. Every day, someone new with something to say--for once, the silence was comforting. She wanted to maintain it as long as possible; that, and being caught meant failure. That was unacceptable.<br />
<br />
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<br />
But as the door clicked shut, a voice behind her sent electricity up her spine.<br />
<br />
"Sweetie... aren't you supposed to be at school? It's only 10 o'clock."<br />
<br />
Korva wheeled around poised for action with a snarl on her face, but it immediately melted when she saw the deep, concerned smile held weakly on her father's. "They don't want me there, and I don't want to be there either. It was... a moot-ually benfishul decision," she responded, trying to sound mature but failing to grasp the words she was trying to say. "Besides. I missed you."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Bradley's face seemed to gain 20 years of age in one moment. "And I missed you, but you can't just decide to leave whenever you want to." He sighed as he lost her eye contact. "Alright... tell me what's bothering you."<br />
<br />
"It's just. It's <i>everybody</i>, Dad. Nobody gets it." When she saw in his expression that he wasn't quite following, she tried to explain. "They act like the world is going to last forever, like nothing they do matters. They can kill the environment, kill wild animals, and not even <i>care</i>. And it just... it hurts, Dad. It <i>hurts</i>."<br />
<br />
"Yes, but Kory--that's no excuse for some of the things that you've done. No matter what anyone else does, hurting someone else is <i>never</i> the answer. <i>Never</i>."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"But Dad--how will they ever get it? How will they ever see how much the world is hurting unless they start hurting too?" Korva pleaded, pacing the floor back and forth as she tried desperately to get him on her side.<br />
<br />
"That's no way to get someone to understand, and I'm very disappointed that you would even think about inflicting pain on someone else as a way of trying to scare them into doing what you wanted."<br />
<br />
"I--" Korva gulped, suddenly turning a shameful glance towards the floor. "--I'm sorry. I thought you woulda been proud of me, for trying to make a difference. I really was trying, Daddy."<br />
<br />
"I know."<br />
<br />
"It's just... I hate them all. I hate them all so much for what they did to you. You're so sick, and even after what you did, it's like no one cares, and I just want to fix that, but nobody will listen, and--"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Sssshh, Kory..." Brad's scowl slowly shifted to a smile. "Listen to me: what is happening to me is no one's fault but my own. There is no one you can punish and no way you can fix what happened. I know it's hard to accept, but I need you to. You're a big girl, now--so close to becoming a teenager. You're so smart, so brave... and I really am so proud that you want to make a difference. I just want you to learn the right way to do it."<br />
<br />
"I don't think there is." Kory glowered at the blanket on Bradley's bed, still refusing to meet his eyes. "All everyone wants to do is talk, but no one wants to listen. I gotta do something, something loud enough no one will ignore."<br />
<br />
"I think," Brad chuckled as his mind finally made a connection he had never thought of before. "I may actually have the answer to that, Kory. Something you could do, to make a difference--something you could do just for me. But you have to make me a promise, first."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"What's that?"<br />
<br />
"I want you to promise me--under no circumstances, unless your life is threatened, will you <i><b>ever </b></i>hurt <b>anyone</b>."<br />
<br />
"You mean... physically?"<br />
<br />
"Well..." Brad stifled a laugh. "I know that there's no way you can protect someone from your words, and... you have quite the mouth on you... but..." Bradley reached out, grabbing his daughter's hand tightly within his own. "There is so much strength in you, Korva. Almost <i>too </i>much. You could burn the whole world down if you wanted to, but all that would do is destroy exactly what you're trying to protect."<br />
<br />
Kory shrugged. "I guess."<br />
<br />
"Promise me--you will never hurt anyone ever again, even for me. <i>Especially</i> because of me."<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Korva hesitated. Although she did many things without thinking about them first, this... this <i>meant</i> something. To herself--to her father. It meant trying to become someone that, up until now, she never thought she could be, or even <i>wanted </i>to be.<br />
<br />
But he always asked so little of her, and right now, she did not know how many more requests he would ever be able to make. And he asked her to do it, for him--in exchange for the opportunity to do something even greater. What it was she did not know, but with all her heart, whatever it was, she would circle the world to accomplish it. Sure, it would be hard, but the alternative--saying no--was not just hard. It was <i>impossible</i>.<br />
<br />
"I promise, Dad," she said as she lept into his arms, drawing herself into his lap and wrapping herself around him. As she did, something very small and very human stirred in her eye. "I'll never hurt <i>anyone</i>, ever, ever again. I promise."<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
Margo slowly peeled her numb fingers off the handlebars of her bike with a painful whimper as she rested it against a bush in front of the Pesce house. '<i>I really should learn to drive,'</i> she thought to herself as she considered how much warmer it would have been if she could have borrowed her mother's car. But, the terrifying image of barreling down the icy streets, steering a motorized vehicle suddenly reminded Margo why she <i>didn't</i> drive.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, bad idea," she spoke aloud.<br />
<br />
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<br />
The snow on the Pesce's front porch hadn't budged much, and Margo didn't really blame them. Winter had hit Twinbrook like a brick purse to the face, something no one had quite been prepared for and everyone was taking a little bit longer than usual to recuperate from.<br />
<br />
"Just in and out, just in and out," Margo chanted to herself, picturing how lovely it would be to rush home and curl up in front of the fireplace. "Just get what you came for, and go home. You can do this." After a deep breath--which she exhaled onto her frozen hands--she pushed her thumb against the doorbell.<br />
<br />
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<br />
It wasn't long before Mrs. Pesce's face showed up behind the frosty glass. "Oh Margo honey, you get in here," she gasped as she quickly drew the door open. "Where are your gloves?! You look like you're going to freeze your fingers off!"<br />
<br />
"Oh, I'm okay Mrs. Pesce, don't worry," she lied as she scooted through the door, with the help of Jane's urget pokings-and-proddings. "I had some... Dropped them in a snowbank and couldn't find them," Margo added, hiding her eyes in shame.<br />
<br />
"Mmm, make sure your mother picks up some new ones. Now--what can I do for you, Margo? Is everything alright with your Dad? Do I need to go get Moe?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Oh no, he's... fine... or... unchanged, I guess," Margo said with a shrug, biting her lip as she finally brought her nervous stare to meet Jane's. "I'm actually here to see... Ian."<br />
<br />
"Oh sweetie I'm sorry, but Ian's sick with the flu--he really shouldn't be seeing anyone today. I already had to turn away Thane today. <i>Twice</i>," she tutted with slight annoyance.<br />
<br />
"I know, that's actually kinda why I'm here," Margo said nervously, scuffing the floor with her boot. "My friend and I are doing a project at school with him, it's due at the end of the week and I came to, er, pick up his... section." She gulped.<br />
<br />
"I'll just go get it for you then, if that's--"<br />
<br />
"--Actually," Margo cut her off, quickly regretting it when she saw the look of surprise on Mrs. Pesce's face. "I... need to uh... ask him some questions and uh... stuff. I promise I'll be quick?"<br />
<br />
Mrs. Pesce clearly wasn't pleased, but with a defeated sigh, she nodded and pointed towards the staircase. "He's in his room, up the stairs, down the hall, second door on the right. Just make sure you don't get too close--I don't want you getting sick, too."<br />
<br />
Margo gave her a wary half-smile. "I won't."<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm an angel bored like hell</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and you're a devil meaning well</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you steal my lines and you strike me down</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
come raise your flag upon me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and if you want me I'm your country</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you win me I'm forever - oh yeah!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
'cause you're the storm that I've been needing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and all this peace has been deceiving</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I like the sweet life and the silence</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but it's the storm that I believe in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxZ9_XlL19E">"You're the Storm" - The Cardigans</a></b></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
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<br />
"Second door on the right, second door on the--" Margo stopped in front of it and took a deep breath. Well, this was awkward--but the longer she put it off, the harder it would be. Raising a fist to the door, she gently knocked.<br />
<br />
"<i>Come in~"</i> a wheezy, pathetic voice responded from within. "You finally bring that soup I--oh."<br />
<br />
"Yeah... sorry, it's just me." Margo awkwardly met Ian's gaze, clearly just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Yeah, I see that now," Ian growled as he began to shift his weight onto his side, turning his feverish face in her direction. "And what are you doing here?"<br />
<br />
Margo shifted from foot to foot, uneasy; she wasn't sure if she should enter any further, so she continued to hang by the door, hiding behind it as much as possible. "T-the report... it's due Friday... Ronnie and I kinda need your part to finish the paper..."<br />
<br />
Ian sighed. "Ugh. Friday? Yeah... that's not good for me. It's gonna have to be next Thursday, at the earliest."<br />
<br />
"But... that's not when it's due. It's due--"<br />
<br />
"--Friday, yeah, but... Yeeaaaaah, but that just doesn't work for me." When Margo continued to look at him dumbfoundedly, he nodded towards the desk in the corner. "I really don't have that much done. See for yourself."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Ian pointed towards the papers scattered on his desk; Margo slowly approached, catching a glimpse at what looked like a half a page on the subject Ian was supposed to be handling.<br />
<br />
"Well... it's better than nothing," Margo said under her breath, trying to think of what she was going to tell Ronnie to try and calm her friend's imminent panic attack. This is exactly what she was afraid of, though, and exactly why she didn't let Mrs. Pesce come get it for her. The last thing she wanted was to start a fight if Ian didn't have it finished; but in a way, seeing it for herself made her feel even worse.<br />
<br />
"I guess I'll go ahead and just take that, then. We'll... manage." She started to tiptoe further into the room, despite the fact that Ian was obviously both awake and aware of her presence.<br />
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<br />
As she moved, Ian's burning stare followed her; she occasionally glanced back at him, only to be met with the fiercest glare. It made her incredibly uncomfortable; not only was he giving her that... look... she was in <i>his</i> territory, and he was--in Margo's opinoin--practically naked. It was not helping.<br />
<br />
"What are you looking at," she asked without the lilt of a question in her voice, sheepishing steering herself behind Ian's desk chair.<br />
<br />
His scowl deepened. "Never seen that necklace, before. Your boyfriend give it to you?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"M-my boyfriend?" Margo shook her head violently, covering up the pendant with her hand when she felt a surge of embarrassment flood over her. She'd never even thought to hide it; it never occurred to her that someone like Ian would notice she never usually wore stuff like that. "No," she finally responded. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."<br />
<br />
"Then what's that pretty Irish thing I've seen dragging you around town everywhere? A new pet?"<br />
<br />
"No! He's just--we're just friends. That's all."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Ian rolled his eyes, dropping back onto the bed with a loud *flump*. "Yeah, whatever. I don't really care, anyways. So's that all you came for?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. J-just this."<br />
<br />
"Alright then." Ian turned his head towards the wall, averting his gaze away from her. "Whatever."<br />
<br />
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<br />
All the awkwardness in the room suddenly doubled; Ian refused to look at her, but he also seemed to refuse to say goodbye. She was stuck, hovering in the middle of the room, a gray zone that had no good entrance and no good exit.<br />
<br />
She wasn't left with much alternative, though. "Well... I guess I better get going, then," she said as she eased herself towards the door. "See ya at school... feel better."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Wait--"<br />
<br />
Margo froze and turned her head over her shoulder. Ian was sitting up again; but this time, he wasn't looking at her with a judgmental stare. What this was Margo wasn't sure, but it made something in her stomach do a very odd sort of dance.<br />
<br />
"Please, don't go."<br />
<br />
Margo's eyes swiveled from side to side. "Uuuh... o-okay." She stopped leaving, but still stood near the door, a frigid and awkward statue.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"C'mere," he lulled, suddenly sounding twice as sick as he did before; Margo was pretty sure he was feigning it, but something deep in her gullet made it impossible to resist, so she timidly followed his request, coming to the side of his bed and gently settling down next to him.<br />
<br />
"W-what do you need?" she asked softly, trying to hide the glowing blush rising up her cheeks.<br />
<br />
He averted his gaze, almost seeming embarrassed, himself. "Lay down with me."<br />
<br />
"... Lay with you. ... Why."<br />
<br />
His face shifted back to a scowl again, almost seeming offended at her tone of question. "I'm cold and I'm sick and I feel miserable," he snapped. "You're warm and you're nice and you're here. Do I really need any more reason?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"You're kind of pathetic when you're sick, you know," Margo stuttered under her breath as she pulled her legs up onto the bed, tucking them under her. She tried not to giggle; it really wasn't that funny... but no, it really was.<br />
<br />
"So sue me," Ian growled, shrugging. "I dare you to act better when you feel like death."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Margo was at a loss for what to say; he wasn't entirely incorrect, and pure look of weakness in his face--genuine or not--garnered some sympathy for him.<br />
<br />
But she couldn't help but realize: there was something more. His eyes, usually piercing and cold, revealed the briefest glance of sadness before shutting tightly, his hand now reaching out in his blindness to grab and tug on the side of her sweater.<br />
<br />
She obeyed; and not, to her surprise, because she was afraid to say no. As her body rested gently next to him, she found herself laying in total peace and comfort. Every moment with Dylan had been a roller coaster, leaving her heart racing and her lungs out of breath... but this, this was different. It was serene, despite who she knew the boy behind her to be.<br />
<br />
A monster, some days; a fighter, a bully, an outcast. But not to her--never, to her.<br />
<br />
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<br />
He had never touched her before, either... At least, not like this. She could feel his hand slowly raise from his side, and settle--finger by finger--onto the side of her ribs, each one testing the waters of her permissibility, making sure it was alright. And Margo did not object.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry... about the other day..." Margo muttered, realizing that their fight had never entirely been addressed.<br />
<br />
When he spoke, the words felt so close to her ear that it tickled, sending goosebumps down her entire body. "I know. It's... fine, though. I really don't blame you." After a few moments, Ian continued. "Thanks, for staying," he said, gruffly. "I'm feeling better already."<br />
<br />
Margo snorted and rolled her eyes. "You better be," she said, half-jesting. "Anything else you need to me do?"<br />
<br />
"Actually, Margo... There is one more thing."<br />
<br />
Margo's nose curled up a little. Great. She wasn't actually seriously. "What's that?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Please... Stay away from that Dylan guy." Margo could sense the vulnerability in his voice; it was unlike Ian to make such a request so calmly, but even in the softness of it was a quiet, pained intensity. "He's not the person you think he is."<br />
<br />
"You know I can't do that, Ian--he's my friend." She shifted uneasily, suddenly feeling a surge of confusing emotions at the mention of Dylan's name. "Why would you even say that?"<br />
<br />
Ian sighed, his body moving to close the distance her movement had caused. "Just trust me, Margo," Ian said stiffly. "I just... know. If you can't stay away--just... be careful, okay?"<br />
<br />
Annoyance suddenly bubbled up from within Margo; why was Ian constantly telling her what to do? What was his business, trying to interfere in her life? Sure, things weren't perfect, and maybe he was right about some things, but this was Dylan--<i>Dylan</i>, of all people. "Why do you even care?" she finally asked bitterly, biting her lip when she heard how accusatory it sounded aloud.<br />
<br />
Behind her, the bed began to quiver at the movement of Ian's chuckle; a reaction that Margo was certainly not expecting, and--for whatever reason--actually made her feel more comforted. "You're like Alice in Wonderland, Margo," Ian said with a whimsical tone, briefly lifting his hand from her ribs to tug lightly on her ponytail. "<b>Someone </b>has to watch out for you, or you're just going to keep falling back down the rabbit hole."<br />
<br />
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<br />
It went silent for a moment as Margo considered this--and it actually made her smile. Perhaps, she'd listen, but for now she wasn't going to worry about it too much. Ian was almost as crazy as she was.<br />
<br />
"Well, I really should get going home--" Margo began uneasily--almost sadly--but the word 'home' caused Ian's grip on her side to tighten, stopping her mid-sentence.<br />
<br />
"No," he said, simply, the word hot against the back of her neck.<br />
<br />
"Ian--"<br />
<br />
"Please... Just a little longer. Please."<br />
<br />
From then on, it fell quiet for a short while; Margo lost track of the passage of time, attempting to count her heartbeats, but lost them in the feel of Ian's through the palm of his hand. Even the back of her head was teeming with warmth, heated by hot breath that was soaking into the mass of her hair.<br />
<br />
It was weird--but not in an unpleasant way. Just weird enough that the awareness of every movement, every second, lasted a lifetime in her thoughts. He was still so far away, but today, just a little bit closer.<br />
<br />
Still a storm, but today, next to her, a happy moment in stillness.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Hi guys!<br />
<br />
I'm tacking this on here because I forgot to do a seperate post about it earlier: if you haven't already, be sure to check out my most recent Short, "<a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/tagged/short%3A-good-enough/chrono">Good Enough!</a>"<br />
<br />
<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdt1vqma0J1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdt1vqma0J1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="640" /></a>It gives a little bit of a glimpse into Ian's life, and though it really is very short, I think it's important to see where Ian is coming from and why he reacts so strongly whenever anyone tries to tell him to change. (I still haven't added it to the Short's listing, so you'll have to go read it via<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mdt1vqma0J1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg"> this link here</a>.)<br />
<br />
I've been doing a rather abysmal job juggling all my projects and such lately, so I'll apologize now for not responding to your comments right away, but even though I plan on doing that soon, I appreciate every single one a very, very great deal. You are all so incredibly special and kind to give your time to read and provide feedback, I feel so blessed to have each and every one of you.<br />
<br />
Normally this is when I would say 'Happy Holidays' as well, but fear not--I have a Christmas Special on the way, that should go up a few days before or on Christmas itself.<br />
<br />
Until then--Cheers and kisses! ♥</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-41430045101760041272012-11-17T15:51:00.001-08:002012-11-21T09:50:38.122-08:00Devil You Know, Devil You Don't"Now, I'd like to get this newspaper out by the end of the month, so if any of you are having trouble, please let me know at least a week before the deadline. If you have any questions about your assignments, meet me in my office after school tomorrow--I'll be around until 5 o'clock, at least."<br />
<br />
Mr. Hobbs gave a look around the computer lab, but every teenager in the room had their eyes fixated on the screens in front of them, oblivious to the fact he was even still there. In the silence, the hum of the computers filled in where crickets could not.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Alright then," he said with a nervous chuckle. "If that's all, I'm taking off. You guys have a good afternoon--make sure the last one out locks the door, alright?" He paused, waiting for a response; only Kenzie, with her back facing towards him, craned her neck around to give him a small smile. "Alright, then. Bye guys."<br />
<br />
As the door to the lab clicked shut behind their teacher, Margo looked down on the slip of paper in front of her with dread. <b>Margo Kane: Community Spotlight </b>was written in bold letters at the very bottom, almost as an afterthought. Community Spotlight, the bland vegetables of the school newspaper. Margo was used to being given the projects no one else wanted, but this one was positively insulting. Community Spotlight meant actually <i>talking</i> to people. In the <i>community</i>.<br />
<br />
Margo's eyes traced over the rest of the Club member's assignments with resentment and envy. Ethan was doing a piece on the art department's most recent projects; Mack Leman, known for his dopey wit, was assigned to write a humor column; Kenzie, to no one's surprise, was writing about some of the new Tech installments at the school; even Daisy got to cover sports, which half of her friends either participated in or cheered for.<br />
<br />
There was no doubt in her mind: Margo had been given the leftover. The misfit in the bunch, just like her.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Ah c'mon Margo, it won't be so bad," Kenzie said from across the table, eyeing the sick greenness flushing Margo's cheeks. "Mr. Hobbs wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't think you could handle it. Maybe he thought it would be good for you, to get out and do some interviews?"<br />
<br />
"He's crazy," Margo mumbled into the hands cupped over her face, trying not to whimper. "You wanna trade?"<br />
<br />
Kenzie's face fell a little. "I love you Margo, but... Technology? You couldn't even plug your mouse into the right port, this morning. You wouldn't know half the stuff you'd be writing about."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Margo knew Kenzie was right--and honestly, it was probably true for every other topic going into this edition of the newspaper--but it didn't make her feel any better. If anything, it just made her more aware of the gaping hole where her "specialty" was supposed to be. Everyone else had their little niche... Ethan and his art, Mack and his jokes--but her, just a channel for someone else's greatness. Fabulous.<br />
<br />
"There's got to be someone you know you can interview--I mean, your family is full of big shots, isn't it? Your grandpa used to be a detective, your grandma owns the art studio--there's lots of possibilities, there?"<br />
<br />
Margo scowled. Yes--another reminder that everyone in her family was amazing but her. And yet... "Actually..." Margo, who'd started pacing to get her thoughts moving, stopped beside Kenzie and gave her a quizzical look. "Maybe I could interview my Dad? I mean, he made the first sentient simbot, his time machine, discovered a way to--"<br />
<br /><a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2012/11/devil-you-know-devil-you-dont.html">Read More...</a><div id="fullpost">
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<br />
"--get murderous lunatics out of prison?" A loud, angry guffah came from behind Margo, startling her. "Yeah, sounds like a <i>real</i> awesome role model to be writing about."<br />
<br />
"Daisy, you don't know what you're talking about," Kenzie snapped, grabbing Margo's hand and lightly tugging her in the opposite direction. "It's Margo's article, she can write about whoever she wants to."<br />
<br />
Daisy rolled her eyes. "No, I'm pretty sure it's <i>you</i> that's blind, four-eyes. But fine--she can write about her father. It's not like anyone will read it, anyways."<br />
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<br />
Both Kenzie and Margo took a rather deep breath as Daisy started to turn away, but their relief was short-lived. "Actually, you know what, Margo?" Daisy retorted, spinning around to face them again. "Write about your Dad. I think it's a great idea."<br />
<br />
Margo's hands shivered. "R-really?" she asked, skeptical.<br />
<br />
"Yeah. That way, when he finally croaks, you don't even have to write an obituary--you'll already have one."<br />
<br />
Kenzie gasped. "Daisy--!"<br />
<br />
"What?! It's true, and everyone knows it! He's only got what, 5, 6 months left? Really, it would be convenient--all you have to do is rerun the piece, and add a little tagline at the end: <i>The Great meddling Bradley Kane, finally bit the dust after a long battle with his big, fat ego</i>.<br />
<br />
"DAISY! Don't talk about her Dad like that!"<br />
<br />
"Why? I mean, it's only fair--if <i>my </i>Dad has to die because of her idiot of an aunt, hers might as well, too."<br />
<br />
"Why you stupid--Margo... Margo? MARGO!"<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Please try to be patient</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and know that I'm still learning.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>I'm sorry that you have to see</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>the strength inside me burning.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>But where are you my angel now?</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Don't you see me crying?</b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And I know that you can't do it all</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but you can't say I'm not trying.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
-- <b>The Hill, Marketa Irglova ~ <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfRhrWhuMdE">CLICK TO LISTEN ♫</a> -</b>-
</div>
</blockquote>
<br />
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<br />
The whole world spun. Underneath Margo's fingers and knees, the cold tile rolled back and forth, barely holding up her capsizing stomach. The smell, the cold, it all made what was left of her lunch keep coming even when she thought she might finally be able to stop.<br />
<br />
The sick feeling in her gut began to subside as she weakly collapsed against the back of the bathroom stall's door, but when she raised her hand to wipe the corner of her lip, she saw her fingers shiver through her foggy vision. It wasn't the world that was shaking: it was her.<br />
<br />
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<br />
When she finally was able to put her weight back on her feet, Margo carefully slipped out of the stall and stumbled to the sink. She smartly avoided looking at what she was sure would be a horribly accurate reflection of how she felt.<br />
<br />
Margo cupped her hands under the faucet, bringing water to her lips and swishing it inside her mouth--but it did little good. She could still feel the sour taste of bile at the back of her throat, threatening to escape again each time she remembered Daisy's words:<br />
<br />
It's only fair, that he's dying.<br />
<br />
<i>It's only fair.</i><br />
<br />
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<br />
After several more minutes of just trying to squeeze some air back into her lungs, she decided to escape the horrible stench the bathroom now had. Margo's fingers tenderly pushed the door open, and she shuffled back out into the hall.<br />
<br />
Several steps out, she heard a small chuckle behind her. "Your stomach finally have enough of those crappy school lunches, Klinger? Sounds like you were barfing up a whole year's worth, in there." Ian's voice was thick with amusement--the kind that made Margo's stomach do another double-dutch in her belly.<br />
<br />
Margo angled her face away from him and kept moving. "Leave me alone, Ian," she spoke--instantly wishing she hadn't when the sobs suddenly began flooding out again.<br />
<br />
"Hey hey hey, quit the waterworks, Margo--I was only kidding!" When she didn't turn around, Ian's hand reached out and snatched her arm, pulling her to a stop; but still, she didn't look at him. "What the hell's the matter?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Just go away," Margo said softly as she reached her free hand up to her face, gingerly trying to erase her tear stains. "Please. Just let me go."<br />
<br />
"Not until you tell me what's wrong," Ian snarled, his grip becoming tighter on her arm. "C'mon, spit it out."<br />
<br />
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<br />
But Margo remained silent. She became a ragdoll in his hand, limply swaying with the forceful sobs she tried to stifle in her chest. The longer she stood there, the angrier he became, until he finally couldn't take it anymore.<br />
<br />
"Margo, look at me!" he barked, tugging her arm and swiveling her around to face him. "Talk to me, dammit!"<br />
<br />
Margo continued to resist, raising her hands to try and shield her face; in response, he latched his fingers around her wrists and drew them down against his chest. She turned her face to the side; he tried to follow it with his own. They continued their clumsy pasadoble until Margo finally became too weak to fight, and her weight slowly shifted against him.<br />
<br />
"<i>Daisy</i>," came her soft answer.<br />
<br />
Ian made a noise closer to animal than human. "What did she do."<br />
<br />
"She said... my dad... deserves to die."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"She what?!" Margo felt Ian's body begin to shake with rage; even his fingers felt as if they were vibrating against her skin. "And you did what--you ran away?!"<br />
<br />
Margo's head bobbed loosely to the side. "I didn't know what to--"<br />
<br />
"Yes, you do! You're not an idiot, Margo--you know<i> exactly</i> what to say!" Another tear began to trickle down Margo's face and her hands started to pull up to hide it; Ian tugged them back down, shaking her whole body along with her arms. "Why can't you stand up for yourself, Margo?! Why do just sit there like a dead fish and let her walk all over you?! Don't you see what this is doing to you?"<br />
<br />
"I--I just--I just can't, Ian--"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"FINE!" Ian's fingers released her, almost making her lose her balance when her weight was suddenly her own responsibility again. He walked past her, taking the first few steps up the staircase to the computer lab. "If you won't stand up for yourself, then <i>I</i> will!"<br />
<br />
"NO!" Her voice reined him to a halt. "DON'T!"<br />
<br />
He looked back at her over his shoulder and threw his hands up in frustration. "Margo, someone has to shove that girl's head into the floor, and if it's not going to be you--"<br />
<br />
Margo's sobs turned to wails. "Why is your s-solution to fix <i>everything</i> always breaking something else?!"<br />
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<br />
The air surrounding them became still and cold. Ian had stopped moving; his foot had frozen mid-air above the step, until gentle gravity pulled it back to rest on the floor. The emptiness swallowed them, until Ian came completely off the stairs--but in a strange role reversal, it was now Ian's eyes that refused to meet Margo's.<br />
<br />
"Ian, I didn't mean--"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, you did. And you're right. You're always right." She watched through tear-burned eyes as his hunched shoulders began to fall from his ears, weighing everything--even his gaze--towards the floor. "Breaking things... it's all I'm good for."<br />
<br />
"That's not tr--"<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Margo. I keep forgetting nothing I'm capable of is good enough for you."<br />
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She would have followed him, but she knew her words had cut deeper than what an apology could repair. And she felt sick--sicker than she had before--but there was nothing left in her tummy except regret.</div>
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For once second, he had let himself become vulnerable again, and she wasted it--wasted the ounce of good she had been trying to dig up for years. All he wanted was to help. Maybe not the right way, but he hadn't backed down. He never had when she needed him.</div>
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But now she did, more than ever before, and all she had was silence.</div>
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"I'm not leaving until I get some answers, Lamont! You don't just wake up one day and totally forget about someone's existence! It's impossible--even for me!"</div>
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<br />
"Lil, please... Can we talk about this later," Lamont grumbled, trying to avoid Lilobot's earnest gestures as she followed him around the science lab. "I just want to finish your diagnostic and go home."<br />
<br />
"What, so I can go home worried that I am going to wake up tomorrow and not remember my family or my friends? Something is wrong, Lamont! I know it! Please, I need you to--"<br />
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<br />
"Alright, fine." Heaving a heavy sigh, Lamont leaned against a nearby machine. His eyes were clouded with frustration, Lil could tell--but she wouldn't back down. This was too important.<br />
<br />
"What happened," Lil asked, plainly.<br />
<br />
"When you told me about what happened with Tanner... how upset you were... I couldn't bear to see you suffering like that. It was too much. So when I transferred you to your new body--I just... didn't transfer those memories. I thought you would be happier without them."<br />
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<br />
Lilobot immediately felt her Positronic Emotion Chip flaring into anger. "You deleted part of me without asking?! Those were MY memories, Lamont! MINE! If you thought I would be better off without them, you should have asked me, first! It was not your choice to make!"<br />
<br />
"You're right," Lamont sighed, nodding. "It was foolish and... selfish. I'm sorry."<br />
<br />
Lil opened her mouth to continue ranting, but when she registered what was saying, and studied him for a moment--she suddenly became even angrier. "What else did you delete, Lamont."<br />
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<br />
<br />
He shook his head, avoiding her eyes. "Just Tanner."<br />
<br />
"Do not lie to me. I can tell when you are lying--your ears turn red and your eyes run away. Stop avoiding it--just tell me! These are my memories we are talking about, I have the right to know!"<br />
<br />
"We kissed." Lamont's head flopped down onto the machine, 'facepalming' against the back of his hand. "You happy now? <i>We kissed</i>. And I freaked out, and I erased it."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"We... we kissed? But... but when?!"<br />
<br />
"Right after the procedure. You were so happy, and I was so happy, and my marriage was already on the rocks, and just... I don't even know how it happened. I came over to help you up, and we just--it just happened."<br />
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<br />
"You don't understand, Lilobot," he continued, growing more and more upset as he recalled the events. "I couldn't do that to my son. It wasn't something I would usually do, and... it was just such a huge mistake. I didn't want it to be a mistake you had to live with, too. I didn't want anyone else to know. So when I hooked you up to make sure everything had transferred fine--I made sure you wouldn't remember. If I could have done the same thing for myself... I would have."<br />
<br />
"So all this time.. you have been lying to me, about us. About your feelings for me."<br />
<br />
Lamont shrugged. "I have a wife. I have a son. If you knew what it was like, Lil... you would know why I did what I did."<br />
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<br />
"I may not understand completely, but... I get that you had the best intentions. I have to know, though--do you still feel that way? About me?"<br />
<br />
She scanned his face, hoping for some sort of reveal; she waited for his words, but they never came. After a moment, she knew, he wouldn't say; either he would hurt her all over again, or he would hurt his wife. There was no win, no matter what he said.<br />
<br />
"Okay, fine, you do not have to tell me--but you understand, Lamont... Why I have to ask you to give me my memories back. You still have them, right?"<br />
<br />
Lamont nodded slowly, and pointed towards a nearby computer. "They're on a harddrive marked XR-1010 Backup. When we do the diagnostic... I'll put them back. If that's really, really what you want."<br />
<br />
Without hesitation, Lilobot nodded. "It is."<br />
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An hour later, when she left the Science Facility, everything was finally as it was. Tanner. Lamont. Every moment, down to the last exquisite detail, just as clear as they day she'd lived them.</div>
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She couldn't say if it's exactly what she expected--there's no way she could have known just how much hurt she had endured, and would now have to suffer alone--but... oh, it was worth it. </div>
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Even though every memory resurfaced a brilliant new wave of pain, she had two things back that no one should ever have to lose: her first love, and her first kiss.</div>
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<blockquote>
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And so they linked their hands and danced</div>
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'round in circles and in rows</div>
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And so the journey of the night descends</div>
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when all the shades are gone.</div>
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<b>-- Mummer's Dance, Loreena McKennitt ~ <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h3SJ1Vd6MlU">Click to Listen ♫ </a>--</b></div>
</blockquote>
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<br />
As the hours crept up on midnight, Margo tossed in a restless sleep. It had been years since she'd had night terrors, but even though they'd passed, she always felt like she was always half asleep, searching for a comfort that no nightlight or heavy comforter could give.<br />
<br />
She tried to pull the blankets closer, but the frosty window radiated the chilling night straight through to her bones. Fall days were wonderful--fall nights, not so much.<br />
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<br />
So, when the noise began, Margo was awake enough to hear; she sat up in her bed with a start. "What the--" she gasped, her eyes glued to the front window.<br />
<br />
Someone was on the porch. At first she thought it might be Mud, but he hadn't been back since the night she followed him home. That and, as she listened closer, the footsteps had a distinctly solid *thump* to them; unless Mud had gotten himself a thick pair of boots, it was definitely human.<br />
<br />
The better part of Margo wanted to hide, or scream for Alesha, but the curious side of her always won. She climbed from her bed, shrugged on her slippers, and tentatively inched towards the window as if it would arise from the wall and snap her with a large set of jaws.<br />
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<br />
In a way, it did.<br />
<br />
"NNNEEEEEEEYYY!!"<br />
<br />
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"<br />
<br />
Margo's eyes met upon the fierce face of the demon horse, sending her arms waving wildly as she stumbled back and fell, *fwump*, onto the floor.<br />
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<br />
"Marrgo? Margo? Ye in t'ere?" came a muffled voice from the other side of the glass. Dylan's face appeared in the window shortly after, lighting up with a smile when his eyes met her own.<br />
<br />
"Dylan," she said, her mouth gaping. "What are you doing here?"<br />
<br />
"Oy've come teh rescue you from certain boredom," he responded, flashing her a whimsical smile. "C'mon outside, I can barely hear yeh."<br />
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<br />
Margo tiptoed through the front door as quietly as possible, latching it shut with her breath caught in her chest. "Vvv vv v vv v vvvv, ugh it's cold out here," she grumbled, regretting not grabbing her jacket as well. "So what are--ah ah, I think your horse is going to eat me."<br />
<br />
"Badger? Neeeh, he's a bit ornery but he won't bite yeh 'less I tell him to," Dylan chuckled.<br />
<br />
Margo frowned with disbelief. "So why are you here?"<br />
<br />
"Well, I'm goin' on a bit ov an... adventure, yeh might call it--and I thought, well don't I know teh perfect girrl to take wit meh. You do like sneakin' out in teh middle of teh night, don'tcheh?"<br />
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<br />
"I--not really," Margo sighed, biting her lip. "That was kinda just a one time thing. Besides, I really shouldn't. My mom might notice, and... I have school tomorrow... and..."<br />
<br />
"Do ye always make t'is many excuses? Come now. You want to come. I can see it in yehr eyes."<br />
<br />
Margo flinched away, shaking her head. "I shouldn't."<br />
<br />
When her head dipped, she felt Dylan's rough fingers thread through the loose locks around her face, gently combing them back to uncover her eyes. "Course yeh should. What's a pretty lass like you gonna do boxed up in here, anyways? Yehr comin' wit meh." When she remained unmoving, he continued. "Come now. Say it. <i>I'm cohmin' wit yeh.</i>"<br />
<br />
"I--" Margo finally looked into his gaze and suddenly became lost in the piercing, hypnotizing insistence in his eyes. "Okay. I'm coming with you."<br />
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<br />
When she finally relented, he grabbed her hand, and led her and Badger to the edge of the road; once there, he swung himself up onto the massive horse's back with the acrobatic grace of a feline. Margo couldn't help but feel the sting of jealousy.<br />
<br />
"Are ye sure you don't want any help, t'ere?" Dylan said with a laugh as he looked behind him, where Margo had begun to try to pull herself up, as well.<br />
<br />
"No, I want to do this, myself," she insisted, determined that this time, she would make it without the helpful guidance of her riding instructors. "Just... gimme a second..."<br />
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<br />
"C'mon now, yehr struggling--here, Alley Oop!" Dylan slung his arm under Margo's shoulder and hoisted her up, looping her behind him. "See? Bettehr. Yeh ever been on a horse before?"<br />
<br />
"I--once," Margo sighed, her face flushing red.<br />
<br />
"Aah, well--just hang on, then? Ol' Badger's got a bit offa jumpy trot, but he won't t'row us--I slipped a bit o' beer into his trough earlier, that usually puts him in a nice good mood," Dylan laughed. When Margo gave him an uneasy smile back, he gave her a wink, and softly clucked Badger from stillness.<br />
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<br />
Dylan wasn't exaggerating--Margo could feel her brains bouncing up and down in her head as they rumbled down the road, leaving soft hoofprints in the frosty sidewalk behind them. Compared to this, Bean had been a dream; now, without even so much as a saddle blanket, her rump felt like it was slowly turning to mashed potatoes.<br />
<br />
"Come on, don't be shy--yeh can squeeze in a littow tighter," Dylan teased, noticing her queasy expression. "It'll seem a bit less harrsh that way."<br />
<br />
She reluctantly obliged, and in a way, it did help; but the foreign smell of him might have been part of it. Campfire, patchouli, and a touch of something spicy she couldn't quite place; it all filled her lungs and warmed her, melting away the last unease she had being so close to what was, to her, a complete stranger.<br />
<br />
"Where are we going?" she finally asked, opening her eyes to see the autumn world slowly passing by.<br />
<br />
"Someplace special--you'll see."<br />
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<br />
Margo didn't open her eyes again she felt Badger's trot slow to a stop; releasing her deathgrip from Dylan's tummy, she gently slipped off to the ground with his help, and then looked up.<br />
<br />
"My grandmother's art studio?" she asked, her eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.<br />
<br />
"Oh, yehr grandmot'er owns it, eh? Ain't t'at a coincidence," he said, surprised but not annoyed. "She has good taste. C'mon, let's go 'round back."<br />
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<br />
As they slipped up the back steps, sudden realization hit Margo over the top of the head. "We're not... going <i>inside</i>, are we?"<br />
<br />
"Why ov course we are," Dylan said, slyly winking. "It'll just be a minute, this lock's a wee bit tricky."<br />
<br />
"You're--but--"<br />
<br />
"Don't <i>worry</i>, I do it all the time!"<br />
<br />
"But--it's illegal!"<br />
<br />
"It ain't illegal unless someone finds out, lass," Dylan chuckled, before turning back to the door and sticking something in the lock that, to Margo, looked like nothing but a long hairpin.<br />
<br />
All her previous hesitations suddenly flooded back, tenfold. Her eyes flitted along the road, searching for any sign of movement; there was nothing, but it didn't change the fact that Margo could swear, they were being watched. "I don't like this," she whimpered, biting her lower lip.<br />
<br />
"All done! C'mon, Marrgo--let's get that shiverin' body of yehrs inside before yeh to ice."<br />
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Margo had been inside the Bottega hundreds of times since she was born--she'd even had several birthdays, here--but now, with everything coated in shadows and silence, it felt like a a haunted graveyard.<br />
<br />
"I w-want to go home," Margo stuttered, hiding her face in her hands. "Please, let's just--"<br />
<br />
"Nonsense, we just got here! Besides, there's somet'in I want to show ya," he responded, his smile wicked. "Just stay there and look pretty, mmm?"<br />
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She watched as he darted around the room, chucking various tools into his pockets and dragging a clay block to the sculpting stand. The ease at which he did it--and the innate knowledge of the room he seemed to have--left her breathlessly uneasy.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure this is okay?" she wheezed, biting her nails.<br />
<br />
"Who cares?" he shrugged, raising his chiseling to the block to begin working.<br />
<br />
"Well.. maybe the person who owns all this stuff?"<br />
<br />
Dylan shrugged. "Does anyone <i>really</i> own anyt'ing, Margo? Besides--you said yehrself, yehr grandmam owns all t'is... so I guess t'at just means ye'll be able to smooth everyt'ing over for us." He sent her another confident, easy wink that weakened her knees and silenced her tongue.<br />
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It was a long time before she said anything else; occasionally Dylan made a sly comment, but the sensation of watching eyes left her unable to relax. "What about Badger?" she finally asked, realizing that she hadn't even seen Dylan tie him up outside.<br />
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"Ah, he's fine," Dylan smiled. "He won't wander off. If anyt'ing he'll just curl up and go teh sleep."<br />
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"But what if someone sees him?"<br />
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"Eesh, yeh sure know how to work up a storm worryin', don't yeh? So what if he's seen? So what if we're caught? Rules only matter if you let 'em."<br />
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"I just don't feel good about this," she said in a hushed whisper, looking out through the foggy glass of the door.<br />
<br />
"Sounds like you don't feel good about lots of t'ings," Dylan sighed. "But it's no matter--I'm finished, anyways."<br />
<br />
He reached out a hand and guided her to his position, looking over her shoulder as she looked at his 'final product'. "Whatcha think, Marrgo?"<br />
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Margo wasn't sure what she was seeing--was that... was that <i>her</i>?<br />
<br />
"It can't be," she gasped, shaking her head. "I'm not--and it's so--"<br />
<br />
"It's beautiful, just like you," Dylan lulled, resting his hands on her shoulders, dipping his lips towards her ear. "She's a little rough around the edges, but t'at's what makes her perfect."<br />
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"Hey--hey Margo, where yeh goin'?!" Dylan's eyes grew wide as Margo suddenly bolted from his grasp, darting down the hallway and disappearing into the kitchen. "Come back!"<br />
<br />
When he caught up with her, she tried to hide her face--but it was impossible. There were already tears forming, and Dylan was anything but blind.<br />
<br />
"What's teh matter? Was it t'hat hideous?" he said with a rough chuckle, reaching his hand out to stroke her arm.<br />
<br />
"No, it's just... I've had such a bad day, and that--the way you're treating me--I'm just so... so <i>confused</i>, Dylan, and--"<br />
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"Ssssh, sshhhh, t'ere's nothing to be confused about, Margo." She turned around to face him, only to be lightly grabbed and tugged towards him. "Yehr a beautiful girrl, you deserve to be shown."<br />
<br />
"Maybe, but--" she tried to draw away, but Dylan's hand was bracing her back, leaving her no where to move but closer. "This is all just moving so fast, and--"<br />
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"Life is short, Margo. Do yeh want to wait one more moment before you live it?"<br />
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She had no arguments left--and even if she did, he wouldn't have it. And why would she want to say no? He was gorgeous, and he smelled like mulled wine, and he rode a horse like a bird rides the wind, and his voice could melt chocolate, and his eyes could see right through her, and--</div>
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Their lips touched.</div>
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As a kiss, it was everything she had ever imagined--and more. All else in the world, in that moment, became meaningless. He felt so wrong, and yet so right, with nothing now that could stop her from saying yes. </div>
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He was a shadow on the moon, a breeze on the fire, a knock on the door: but in that moment, she was his moon and his fire and his door, and there was nothing else she'd rather be.</div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-17726289643825927832012-11-09T18:37:00.002-08:002012-11-21T09:51:34.099-08:00Tramps and TroubleAt times, the hours and days fly by without notice, and before anyone can remember to mark days off the calendar, the trees begin to reveal their true nature and the morning walk to school is clouded with the fog of chattering breaths. In a way, it had flown by this way for Margo--summer seemed like a recent memory, and though she loved fall, she still didn't feel ready to cage her hands into mittens. On the other hand, though, it seemed to move painfully slow--ever since Christina and Rachel had promised her riding lessons at their very own Academy.<br />
<br />
So, when the day finally came, Margo awoke like a child on Christmas morning--her face frozen into a smile, and her body humming with both excitement and anxiety. She couldn't get there soon enough... or so she thought.<br />
<br />
The drive to Appaloosa Plains was a slow and silent one. Margo had convinced her mother to drive her "just that first time"; it was hard enough to deal with the pressure of riding a horse for the first time, did she really need to endure travelling on a bus with a dozen strangers on the way there?<br />
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"I promise, just this one time, Mom," Margo pleaded with her eyes wide, threatening tears. Alesha never had a chance.<br />
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Alesha tried to make small talk on the way there, but Margo's repitoire of responses was limited to "Mmmhm"s and "Uh-huh"s. "Just remember to have someone take photos for me, okay?" her mother buzzed. "And call me as soon as you're done, you have school in the morning and I don't want you to fall asleep in Chemistry again, I don't want another phone call from Professor Nielson. Besides, it would really make your father proud if you were able to talk about your class with him..."<br />
<br />
Her litany faded away into the gentle hum of Margo's daydreams--dreams that put castles on the rolling hills they travelled, their rooks just barely showing in the thick clouds coating the horizon. The oil pumps bobbing up and down in the middle of fields grew faeries that jumped up and down on them like a rotating see-saw; the trees that shivered in the wind were just shaking hands as they parted ways; the tractor harvesting crops was an insatiably hungry monster trying to switch to a vegetarian diet.<br />
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It was a strange but lovely world--instantly shattered the moment Lawrence Equestrian Center's"sign appeared before Margo's eyes.<br />
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"Oh there you are, Margo! We're just about to get started!" Margo saw Rachel's arms waving from a large, fenced in area not far from the parking lot as she slowly climbed out of the vehicle.<br />
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"Remember to have fun, sweetheart," she heard her mother's voice say behind her as the car started pulling out of the drive. "Call if you need anything."<br />
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Margo's heart stopped as she got a good look at where she was heading. She wasn't sure why, but she had somehow expected that it would just be her learning to ride today--or maybe one other person. But as her eyes scanned the small arena, she spotted one, two, three... <i>five </i>horses. And, to match them, five girls her age.<br />
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She approached slowly, as if trying to tread quietly past a herd of flighty deer. Unfortunately, Rachel had already spotted her, so she wasn't going to escape, now. "Aw come now Margo, don't look so nervous! This is exciting! I'm so glad we're finally getting started," Rachel said with a smile, sending a casual glance at the small group of girls behind her.<br />
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"Margo?" A voice Margo vaguely recognized spoke from the middle of the circle. "Oh, hey, it's Margo! Hi, you!"<br />
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It took her a moment, but she finally caught the source of the greeting: a girl that she did not know well, but with eyes that made her family instantly recognizable. "Ch... Charlotte?" Margo whispered, shocked.<br />
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"Yeah, Charlotte Seymour, Josh's little sister!" Margo's stomach twisted into knots. "Josh has told me loads about you, but I didn't realize you'd be coming here for classes, too!"<br />
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"... Oh. That's... cool," Margo responded, unsure.<br />
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After a moment, though, the twists in her stomach began to burn, as well as the pale color of her face.<br />
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She'd been so focused on Charlotte, that she hadn't noticed the blonde standing next to her.<br />
<br />
<i>Daisy</i>.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, Josh talks about you lots--I hear aaaall about it from Natasha," Daisy said with a light smirk. "I'm actually surprised to see you, here--I didn't realize your family could afford to eat anymore, let alone pay for riding lessons, what with your Dad's hospital bills and all."<br />
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"Daisy, that's quite enough," Margo heard Rachel interject from the side. She let out a small sigh of relief, but Daisy's eyes will still trained on her, full of suspicion.<br />
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"Alright, girls--gather round," Christina called from behind them, waving them into a rough semi-circle in front of her. "Looks like some of you have already met, but let's introduce ourselves, shall we? Daisy, since you seem so excited to share, why don't you go first."<br />
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"Well--my name is Daisy de Wynter, I'm a Sophomore in High School at Twinbrook High, and my family recently purchased the beautiful Mumba--" she pointed to a gray Arabian a little ways away. "So I have a little experience riding--I'm mainly just here for a refresher course." Margo almost gagged at the fakeness of Daisy's smile.<br />
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They all went around and introduced themselves; aside from Daisy and Charlotte, there were two other girls, both from the Plains. One was a rather shy Junior named Rena who had never ridden before, and the other a loud but nice-looking Senior named Bridget, who was here more as a 'teacher's aide' since she was a minorly accomplished rider. Both got rather sour looks from Daisy, which made Margo feel a bit more relieved; at least she wasn't the only one here Daisy despised.<br />
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"Alright guys, let's go meet the horses you'll be riding!" Christina waved a beckoning arm and started leading them towards the four-legged creatures standing idly on the opposite side of the arena, looking thoroughly bored.<br />
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"Except for Daisy--" Christina shot her an annoyed glance. "You all will be riding some of our finest LEC horses. They are all incredibly well trained, obedient, and even-tempered--you have nothing to be nervous about with them. They've all been used many times to teach beginners, so they're used to it. They'll take great care of you, I promise."<br />
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"Charlotte, you'll be riding Rocky," Christina said while pointing to a gelding Margo instantly recognized; he was one of the horses she had been taking care of at the ranch in Twinbrook. "He's a bit older, but he was a solid competitor in his prime."<br />
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One by one, the girls were paired off--Charlotte to Rocky, Daisy to her own Mumba, Rena to a nimble, shy mare named Harley Quinn, and Bridget to her previous training partner, Easter, a rather odd paint with a pink nose like a rabbit.<br />
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Last, was Margo.<br />
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"Margo--this is Espresso. Between you and me," she said softly, making sure the other girls weren't listening heavily. "He's the finest guy we've got here. He's incredibly smart, and he'll always do exactly what you want him to, if you know how to ask, right. He hasn't competed yet, but I think he's got a lot of potential to do well... Think you'll be able to coax it out of him for me?"<br />
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Margo gave this 'Espresso' a long, hard look.<br />
<br />
He wasn't Dusty Dame, that's for sure. Dusty was always blanketed with a thin coat of mud; this guy was so clean he was practically shining. Dusty was... well... <i>fat</i>. This guy? Margo could see the muscles rippling in his shoulders as he shifted weight between his feet. Something about Dusty had always felt secure--like she was just as much an outsider as Margo was--but Espresso was the top of his class, valedictorian, quarterback, and Danny Zuko all in one package.<br />
<br />
At least, that's what she thought, before... <i>the face</i>.<br />
<br />
As Margo burst out laughing at the weird, tilted smile he gave her--complete with goofy, wiggling ears--Christina almost choked. "Oh, right, I forgot to mention--he's a bit of a bonehead. Thought you might like that." She smiled, tossled Margo's hair, and walked away.<br />
<br />
Jock <i>and</i> comedian. Maybe he would grow on her.<br />
<br />
"You're goofy," she said to him softly as she grabbed his lead rope. "I think 'Espresso's' a bit too formal for you... You're a bit more of 'Bean', hmm?" He almost seemed to whuffle in approval. "I thought so."<br />
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"Alright guys, take your horse's lead rope, and spread out so you have plenty of room," Christina called from behind them. "Walk slow, but commanding. Remember, you're in charge--the horses will know if you feel nervous, so try not to show it. Keep your shoulders up, and lead them like you're the only one that knows the way. They'll respect you more if you don't doubt yourself."<br />
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Margo tried to listen, but she could feel cold prickles at the back of her neck. She cast a quick look; Daisy was only steps behind her, impatiently waiting for Margo to get Bean out of the way to give her more room.<br />
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"Sorry," Margo mumbled, trying not to look Daisy directly in the eye.<br />
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After a couple of minutes, each pairing had several feet of space between them--and so came the moment Margo had been dreading.<br />
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"Now, I'd like you guys to pull yourselves up into the saddle. If you need help, just call one of us over and we'll give you a hand up, but I'd like you guys to try it out yourselves, first."<br />
<br />
Margo gulped as she began watching the other students. Bridget pulled herself up into the saddle as if she'd been born there; Daisy took a little longer, but still managed to do it without help. Charlotte, unfortunately, was still a bit too short for Rocky, so she got to stand on a stool to get on him. The last was Rena: try as she might, she kept sticking her foot into the stirrup at the wrong angle, and it was clearly frustrating her.<br />
<br />
"Rena, honey--it might help if you put the right foot in," Rachel said softly behind her, trying not to chuckle.<br />
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<br />
"Margo? Aren't you going to try?"<br />
<br />
Christina had snuck up on her. "I, uh," Margo stammered, biting her nails. "I'm just watching everyone else so I can... see how... I guess." She shrugged as well, trying not to betray her nerves to her teacher. A futile effort, at best.<br />
<br />
"If you need help, I'm right here," she responded, smiling.<br />
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<br />
Margo looked up at Bean. Was she crazy, or did he just grow a foot and a half in the last few minutes? "You're... tall," she gulped under her breath, looking up at him worriedly. "Can't you just... sit down?" He snorted--yeah, not gonna happen.<br />
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<br />
Margo looked back over her shoulder at Christina, who shook her head. "You're doing fine, hon. Take your time." She gave a reassuring smile, that didn't reassure Margo one bit.<br />
<br />
Alright. Foot in...<br />
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<br />
... arms up...<br />
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<br />
... leg over...<br />
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<br />
Success!<br />
<br />
"Bout time, Margo," Daisy groaned, herself looking boredly perched atop Mumba. "Thought we might be riding in the dark by the time you got your ass in the saddle."<br />
<br />
"Well, I... Hnn." With a small whimper, Margo turned her eyes away. She had no idea how to retort at something like that, even if she had had the courage to.<br />
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<br />
The next few moments, while ingrained in Margo's mind as the most wonderful, defining moments of her life, were a bit of a blurry, goopy mess.<br />
<br />
She had always heard that the first few moments you ever ride a horse are the most amazing thing to ever experience--but at that particular moment, it was... not. As Christina instructed them where to go and how to tell their horses to turn and move forward, Margo's heart was pumping blood so hard to her body that everything was throbbing. Eyes, hands, toes. Her nose itched, but she clung so tightly to the reins that she couldn't raise her hand to ease it.<br />
<br />
It was pure joy, but pure discomfort.<br />
<br />
The party moved forward in a single-file line; Bridget, much more experienced than the rest, took point. Charlotte, having trouble getting Rocky to stop searching for carrots, took rear. Slowly but surely, they began circling the arena, like a square carousel without music or a pole to cling to. Margo felt lucky that Bean knew what he was doing; she was having enough trouble just figuring out how to hang on.<br />
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"Margo--Margo, I need you to move." The words that came from behind her were almost as anxious as she felt. And... from Daisy?</div>
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"What do you mean--I am moving!" Margo whimpered, trying to tell Bean to go faster--but he was already as close behind Harley as he could be without stepping on her tail.</div>
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"No, I mean--turn! Turn him!"</div>
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"I-I--I can't," Margo muttered, not even wondering to question <i>why</i> Daisy was making an odd request.</div>
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<br />
Pretty soon, it was apparent. With a brave glance over her shoulder, Margo saw it happen: Mumba, who had already been acting a bit strange around the other horses, suddenly had had enough. Stopping right in her tracks, she began tossing her head, and--when her rider couldn't seem to figure out what to do--decided that there was only place to put her.<br />
<br />
On the ground, knocking the air clean out of her.<br />
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"<i>Daisy!"</i> Christina called, her eyes instantly full of panic. "Daisy, are you alright!?"<br />
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"I'm... fine..." Daisy choked, coughing and sputtering as she tried to gain her bearings again. "Just... ow."<br />
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<br />
As Rachel ran to Daisy's side to help her up, Margo carefully began sliding herself off of Bean's back.<br />
<br />
"Are you sure you're alright," Rachel asked worriedly, gently poking Daisy's ribs and the back of her head and neck. "Nothing broken?"<br />
<br />
"Ugh, stop, stop," she grumbled, waving her off. "I told you, I'm <i>fine</i>."<br />
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"It's <i>her</i>, fault," Daisy added, as soon as Margo took a few steps forward. "I told her to get out of the way, but she wouldn't listen! She just sat there, looking stupid."<br />
<br />
"But I... why did I have to move?" Margo asked, hushed.<br />
<br />
"Haven't you <i>met</i> Mumba? I thought it was <i>your </i>job to take care of her at the ranch," Daisy snarled. "But I guess if it hasn't got through your thick head--Mumba doesn't <i>like</i> being boxed in by other horses. She needs more room to move, and you weren't giving it to her."<br />
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<br />
"Daisy, that's <i>not</i> her job." Rachel's interjected, her face lined with fury. "Margo's job is to mind Espresso, <i>not</i> accommodate you and your... <i>horse</i>," she snapped, sending a sour look Mumba's way. "If you absolutely <i>insist</i> on using Mumba during these training courses, it's your job to make sure that you can control her, and if not, make sure she's not a risk to the other students. I've already given your mother my protest to allowing her in these classes--she's not fit to be a training horse, and she shouldn't be here. We made an allowance on the condition you could handle her--do I need to change my mind?"<br />
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"I... <i>no</i>, but..." Daisy struggled to find an argument, but Rachel hadn't left her much wiggle room. "<i>Fine</i>, I'll be more careful."<br />
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<br />
As Rachel and Daisy continued discussing ways to accommodate Mumba--begrudgingly, on Rachel's part--Margo began wandering away... away from Daisy, away from Rachel, away from Bean, her heart heavy in her chest.<br />
<br />
"Honey, where are you going?" Christina said, stopping her and holding her in her tracks. "It wasn't your fault. Why don't you hop back on Espresso?"<br />
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<br />
"I know it wasn't, I just... I don't want to be in the way," Margo sighed, shrugging her shoulders up tight. "I'm not sure I'm good enough to ride him."<br />
<br />
"Sweetie, do you think I would have paired you and him together if I didn't think you were the best fit?" Margo shook her head at Christina. "I asked you here because I know you can do this. All it takes to be a great rider is love for your horse, hard work, and cooperation--three things I <i>know</i> you can do. Don't listen to Daisy, or anybody else that wants to tell you you aren't good enough--with Espresso's help, I <i>know</i> you're going to be the best rider here."<br />
<br />
"... Bean."<br />
<br />
Christina looked at her, puzzled. "Bean?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah. Espresso <i>Bean</i>. That's what I've decided to call him."<br />
<br />
Without blinking, Christina began to laugh--so heartily that even Rachel and Daisy paused to look over and see what was wrong. "And a Bean he is," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "See... I knew it: you guys will get along just fine."<br />
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Margo returned to Bean's side a bit hesitantly--there were many eyes flickering too and from her, still confused what had even happened.<br />
<br />
But Bean, not missing a beat, raised his head and gently butted the side of her cheek with his nose. What he was trying to say, she wasn't sure (though she was sure he was trying to say <i>something); </i>but, if she knew anything, it was that he, like Christina and Rachel, saw more in herself than she did.<br />
<br />
"I guess we're stuck together now," Margo smiled, rubbing the length of his nose. "So I guess you should know--I kinda suck at a lot of things, and I might suck at this, too. But if you help me, I'll give it all I got. Think you're willing to give it a shot?"<br />
<br />
In his own, Bean-y way, he smiled in response.<br />
<br />
-----<br />
<br />
This was starting to become a problem.<br />
<br />
Granted--it was a problem when it first started. Korva's delight in causing mischief is something that no one but her seemed to understand, but it had started to get progressively worse since her first little 'prank'. Whoopee cushions, shower dye, smoke bombs--you'd think those were the extreme, but that was just where it started. A little embarrassment was forgivable. But this...<br />
<br />
... this was getting out of hand.<br />
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<br />
Alesha had given up nail biting in second grade, when Amelia, her then and forever best friend, had started painting them every sleepover. It had been a long time since those sleepovers, but the habit-break had stuck--until Kory.<br />
<br />
It was something that hit her as she began chewing her nails on the way down the stairs to the principal's office. It was her <i>daughter</i> that was being called in--why did it make <i>her</i> so nervous? She couldn't explain it, but this time, she had a gut feeling Korva had finally gone too far.<br />
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<br />
"There you are--" Principal Clark ran up the Alesha the moment she turned the corner towards the main offices. "Sorry, I don't mean to be impatient, I just..."<br />
<br />
"What's she done, this time," Alesha asked in a tired, unsurprised voice.<br />
<br />
"Well, I... I don't even know how to say this without--"<br />
<br />
"Just tell me," she asked, impatient. After being called down from her classroom 10 times so far this year, she was no longer shocked.<br />
<br />
"Well, it started this morning--they brought in a bunch of animals for a science exhibit: mice, reptiles, some large rabbits... it was all fine, until Korva decided to let them out of their cages..."<br />
<br />
Alesha sighed. "Nothing new."<br />
<br />
"Yes, well--that's not the worst bit. While the adults were trying to track them all down to return them, Korva... stuffed one of her fellow students in one of the cages."<br />
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<br />
"She... what?!"<br />
<br />
"It was rather traumatizing for the poor girl--apparently she had made some sort of comment about how her mother had a fur coat just like one of the rabbits, and that... put Korva over the edge, so to speak."<br />
<br />
"You're kidding."<br />
<br />
"I wish I was, Alesha. I know your daughter has some rather interesting perspectives on animal rights and green energy and the like--all rather remarkable for a girl her age--but... this has got to stop."<br />
<br />
"I know, Chris, but..." Alesha sighed. "I've tried everything. She simply won't listen. Brad's illness has had a really hard toll on her... she idolizes him a great deal, I think she sees everything she's doing as a punishment to what caused him to become sick. It doesn't quite make sense to any of us but to her..."<br />
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<br />
"I understand Alesha, and I empathize with your family a great deal--but you have to realize, if this behavior continues any longer, I won't have any choice but to expel her. And for a child her age, that's not going to be easy to recover from."<br />
<br />
Alesha sighed. "I... I know. What do you suggest?"<br />
<br />
"I know this is the last thing you want to hear, but have you thought about boarding school?"<br />
<br />
"Chris, you know I can't move her that far away from her father--"<br />
<br />
"Yes, but that may be part of the problem. Seeing him constantly the way he is... it may be a trigger for these emotions."<br />
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<br />
"I just don't know. I've thought about it, but Kory... she's so fragile. It could make things worse."<br />
<br />
"Possibly, but you really should give it some consideration, Alesha. What if it were one of your own students? What would you tell their parents? Just keep it on the table. That's all I'm asking."<br />
<br />
Alesha slowly nodded, then carefully patted her colleague on the shoulder. "Thanks, Chris. I appreciate your honesty."<br />
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<br />
Down the hall, Kory could hear the adults murmuring. She couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but she knew they were talking about her--knew what they were saying couldn't be good. It infuriated her--shouldn't she at least be kept in the discussion? She wasn't an infant; she could handle hearing what they had to say...<br />
<br />
They were stupid. All of them, stupid. If they all would just listen, if they would all just do what she wanted them to--<br />
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<br />
"Kory," came her mother's voice above her. "It's time to go home."<br />
<br />
Korva sat completely still, refusing to move or respond.<br />
<br />
After a few moments, Alesha became impatient. "Korva, <i>come on</i>. You can't just sit here all night."<br />
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<br />
"I can if I want to," Korva finally responded, lifting her head just enough to glance at her mother through the corner of her eye. "If I go, you're just going to yell at me. I'm not going anywhere."<br />
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<br />
"Yell at you? <i>Yell at you?!</i>" Alesha voice was hushed, but carried no less anger for its lack of volume. "If I want to yell at you young lady, I don't need to take you home to do that. I am... I am <i>so</i> disappointed in you. How could you do something like that to someone else?! How could you--"<br />
<br />
"Pippin made me do it."<br />
<br />
"<i>Pippin?</i> You're blaming your <i>doll</i>?"<br />
<br />
"She talked me into it."<br />
<br />
"Korva... I have seen you say some pretty immature things, but I think that is the absolute worst. Another girl is not only grievously upset, but <i>injured</i>, and you have the nerve to try and shift the blame onto your stuffed toy? That is <i>low. </i>Now come on--we're leaving."<br />
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<br />
As slow as possible, Korva carefully lifted her backpack off the ground, slinging it over one shoulder after withdrawing a large, happy looking doll from within. Alesha tried not to tap her foot with rage, but her daughter was clearly taking every step to make this as painful as possible.<br />
<br />
"Ready?" she asked, trying not to blow smoke.<br />
<br />
"Yes." Korva's lips snarled.<br />
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<br />
As they climbed into the car, no more words were spoken. Alesha knew, nothing she could say would make a difference; Korva knew, nothing she said would be understood.<br />
<br />
They both tried turning on music, but as soon as it began to play, it left them feeling worse in their thoughts--so it was instantly shut off, leaving them in intolerable silence.<br />
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<br />
As they neared home, Korva pulled Pippin tighter against her chest, trying to capture any emotion that wasn't anger--but failed. It was all emptiness. Just a stuffed toy, in the enclosed space of the car.<br />
<br />
"You hate me, don't you," she whispered, her eyes glued to the window opposite her mother.<br />
<br />
Alesha bit her lip, closing her eyes as long as she could without veering off the road. "No. I could never hate you. You're my daughter, and I will always love you." But as her eyes opened, a tear escaped her eye.<br />
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<br />
They spoke no more words to each other; Alesha exited the car before Kory, slamming the door and walking to the house without even checking to see if Kory was behind her. She wasn't, but Kory watched her mother leave with a confused hatred, one still completely devoid of shame.<br />
<br />
She returned to her room above the garage, tossing her backpack in the corner, and gently setting Pippin on the center of the floor. "Well... I guess that coulda been worse," she snarked to the empty room.<br />
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<br />
"I dunno, Kory... I think we mighta gone too far, this time." Behind her, clear as day, Pippin spread her hands in defeat, looking oddly sad for what was supposedly "just a doll".<br />
<br />
"Nonsense--they don't listen. They never listen. The only way to make them is actions... they say they speak louder than words, right? So we make loud actions, and we make ones that can't be ignored."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but... are you sure they're even hearing what you're trying to say? All they seem to be is angry at <i>you</i>, not anything else."<br />
<br />
"... I guess. Mebbe we'll just have to do something that's a bit easier for them to understand."<br />
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<br />
Pippin's head-bobble fell to the side, her face falling into confusion. "Huh? Like what?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, I dunno yet... But we'll think of something. You'll help me though, right, Pip?"<br />
<br />
Pippin smiled, her eyebrows wiggling in delight. "Of course, Kory. Friends forever, right?"<br />
<br />
"Yup. Friends fore<i>ver</i>."<br />
<br />
----<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<center>
He's a tramp, but they love him<br />
Breaks a new heart ev'ry day<br />
<br />
He's a tramp, they adore him<br />
And I only hope he'll stay that way<br />
<br />
You can never tell when he'll show up<br />
He gives you plenty of trouble<br />
I guess he's just a no 'count pup<br />
But I wish that he were double<br />
<br />
He's a tramp, He's a rover<br />
And there's nothing more to say<br />
<br />
If he's a tramp, he's a good one<br />
And I wish that I could travel his way<br />
<br />
- <b>He's a Tramp</b> -- Disney's Lady and the Tramp <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aGHLcobLUqA">(Click to Listen ♫)</a> -</center>
</blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<i>I really, really need to talk Mom into a spa membership,</i> Margo thought to herself as she tried--and failed--to find a position comfortable on her bed. Back, stomach, side--no matter where she was, it <i>all</i> hurt. All she wanted to do was take a nap before going to work, but at this rate, it looked like it wasn't going to happen.<br />
<br />
Apparently, the horse riding course had failed in it's advertising. <i>"In a 12 week course, come learn how to ride, join the Academy team in beginner's dressage, jumping, and cross country competitions, and form a callous on your backside so large it can be seen from outer space! Those that are terminally out of shape need not apply."</i><br />
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<br />
Margo was laying in her pool of painful self-pity when the worst thing possible happened: <b>the doorbell rang.</b><br />
<br />
<i>Crap</i>, she thought as she struggled to bring her feet over the edge of the bed. Alesha was still at the school picking up Kory, which meant she was home alone--and though she <i>hated</i> answering the door, after one-too-many missed UPS packages, her mother insisted she learn to answer the door. <i>Maybe I could just tell her I'm disabled from the waist down...</i> Yeah, that wouldn't work.<br />
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<br />
Margo eased herself to the front door with a mixture of socially anxious dread and muffled whimpers--careful to avoid eye contact with whoever was at the door until she'd opened it all the way.<br />
<br />
She wasn't sure who she was expecting--a solicitor, maybe one of Kory's friends--but <i>him</i>... him she wasn't expecting.<br />
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<br />
The boy by the fire...<br />
<br />
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<br />
... the man in the moon...<br />
<br />
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<br />
... the most beautiful human being she had ever seen.<br />
<br />
"Hi," he said.<br />
<br />
No, not said. <i>Oozed</i>. In just one word, Margo's already weak knees collapsed, leaving her clinging to the doorknob helplessly.<br />
<br />
She could already tell--he was foreign. Even just the word "hi" sounded more like "hoy"; she couldn't place it--not yet, anyway--but it was just enough to make him all the more handsome. Boys with accents? They always are one step ahead of the game.<br />
<br />
Suddenly realizing that she'd done nothing but stare for the last 10 seconds, she gulped her painfully dry mouth, and simply said, "Hi."<br />
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<br />
"Well den, now thet dat's out of the way--name's Dylan, by the by--Oy'll just... tis way to the kitchen, yeh?"<br />
<br />
"Um... yes...?" Margo watched helplessly as the boy--Dylan--walked right passed her into the hall, his eyes carefully analyzing the entire room with a childish wonder.<br />
<br />
"Wow, tis place is grand... Got a nice 'omey feel to it, bit too clean for me own tastes, though. Say, you never said yehr name--it's?"<br />
<br />
"Margo... Margo May..." Her eyes were hyptonized as she watched him carefully tiptoe around the room, picking up objects and inspecting them from every angle. The clock, picture frames, vases: everything. It was almost as if he'd never seen the like before, and couldn't fathom what he was seeing--that, or he enjoyed leaving his fingerprints on everything he saw.<br />
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<br />
Suddenly, Margo snapped out of it. "Hey, you know, you can't just... walk into people's houses, and... touch their stuff..."<br />
<br />
"Um, yeh, dat does seem abet rude, but if Oy recall correctly, a little lass about your build 'n color came into <i>may</i> home recently and started snappin' pictures o' my family wit'out askin'..."<br />
<br />
Margo's face turned bright red. "Oh... yeah. Point taken."<br />
<br />
However, the boy's face lit up with a smile. "S'alright, darrrlin', I gots a beautiful family, 'n I don't mind sharin', so long as you don't."<br />
<br />
With the word 'darrlin', Margo was finally able to place it. <i>Irish</i>, she said to herself under her breath, as Dylan turned his back on her and ambled towards the kitchen. <i>He's irish. ... But what are irish gypsies doing in Twinbrook?</i><br />
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<br />
"So um... You don't sound from around here," she finally got the nerve to ask, just as Dylan reached for an apple off the counter and took a bite with what she could only describe as 'playful carelessness'. "How... and why... did you get here?"<br />
<br />
"Eh, we're what you'd call travellers," he spoke through a mouthful of apple. "Don't like stayin' no place too long. Start gettin' homesick for teh road. Few years back, we took the biggest move yet--'aven't looked back. Love this wee little country you got here," he said with a wry, amused grin. "It's full of alllll kinds of beautiful tings."<br />
<br />
"Okay, so... why are you... <i>here</i>? You know... in my house?"<br />
<br />
"You sure ask a lot o' questions, mm?" Dylan laughed. "Well, I came to offer you... a... proposal, o'sorts."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"A... proposal?" Margo almost swallowed her tongue, it was so dry. "What... kind of proposal?"<br />
<br />
"Well, you sure seem to love Mud--"<br />
<br />
"Mud?"<br />
<br />
"Aye, me dog. The one you've been luring to your house every night?"<br />
<br />
Margo groaned--she'd completely forgotten what had even led her to Dylan's campsite, that night. "Oh."<br />
<br />
"Well, Mud's a right pain in me behind, and me family's in need of a littow coin, so I was thinkin'--if you like him so much, why don't you buy him off me?"<br />
<br />
Margo's eyes grew wide. "I... I... I don't know--I can't make a decision like that without asking my parents--"<br />
<br />
"So what about your parents--it's your house too, isn't it?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, but--"<br />
<br />
"Come on, he's a wee bit dirty but 'e's got a harrt of gold and you won't find a pup more loyal den he--"<br />
<br />
"No. I'm sorry... But no."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"... Oh." Dylan's face fell--along with Margo's stomach. <i>Great</i>, she thought to herself. <i>I've gone and made him hate me... and all he wanted was to sell me an animal he loved so he could afford food or... something.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
"I... Can I talk to my parents about it? I'm sure they'll say yes... We're just not doing so well ourselves right now, and a dog... it's a lot of responsibility, and I don't really have time, and--"<br />
<br />
"Sssh, I get it, I get it, lass. You don't have to explain. I admit, I've been watchin' your house a bit--nottin' creepy, just curiousity--and I noticed, yehr Dad... he's left yehr Mam, hasn't he?"<br />
<br />
"Well, no--he's sick... Hasn't been able to leave the hospital for the last couple months."<br />
<br />
"Oh. Dat's... dat's really rough." Dylan's face fell into the first genuine, plain smile she'd seen him make, yet. "Oy'm sorry."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"It's okay."<br />
<br />
And, for a moment--it was. It <i>really</i> was. As many times as people had said they felt sorry--that they understood, and sympathized--she had never really <i>believed </i>them until this boy. Something about his eyes told her: he'd been through worse. Much worse. Loss, separation... something.<br />
<br />
The way his eyes looked into hers--dark, but with a heartening warmth--she had never felt quite as at peace with everything as in that moment, when he reached out and took her hand into his.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Well... if you change yehr mind... you know where teh find me," Dylan said with his boyish half-smile, suddenly lifting her hand, and--with the gentlest of movements--brought her hand to his lips.<br />
<br />
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<br />
She was struck instantly with how rough they were. It may have been his stubble--he did have a bit of beard, making her estimate he was at least two years older than herself--but his lips felt harsh, too. Weathered. He was no pampered brat or city slicker--he'd seen rough things, and had no need to polish it off his exterior. His hands were calloused and his fingernails hadn't been scrubbed in weeks, but they were more tender than anything else she'd ever felt.<br />
<br />
"Yeah... I guess I do." Margo melted.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Margo, have you seen my--<i>oh</i>." Margo had been so absorbed in Dylan's eyes, she hadn't heard the front door open.<br />
<br />
Alesha stood, frozen, as she watched the rather... <i>surprising</i> scene before her. "Uuuh... what is going on, here?" she asked, snapping Margo out of her fixation with Dylan's gaze.<br />
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<br />
"Oh, crap, Mom--Hi," Margo sputtered, spinning around so fast she nearly lost balance. "We were just--"<br />
<br />
"--Making a business arrangement, as Oy'm sure Marrgo with tell you about, latehr," Dylan finished. "You must be the Missus," he added with a warm, smarmy smile.<br />
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<br />
"Yes--and... who are you?"<br />
<br />
"Dylan O'Malley, at yehr service Mam." To Alesha's surprise, Dylan not only introduced himself like a gentlemen, but gave her a slight bow, as well. She was so taken aback she did nothing but stare as Dylan, without blinking, began guiding himself towards the door. "Now, I should be gettin' home before me own Mam starts callin' aftehr me--it was a pleasure to meet teh bot of yeh."<br />
<br />
With another slight dip, he turned towards the door and let himself out, trundling down the front steps and out of sight.<br />
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<br />
"Uuuuuhh..." Alesha blinked a few more times. "What... was that?"<br />
<br />
"It was... a boy..." Margo tossed a sidelong look at her mother, trying to smile innocently. And, failing.<br />
<br />
"Yes, I saw that much," Alesha sighed. "Explain."<br />
<br />
After a deep breath, Margo began to recount the last few months--how she kept feeding the dog, "Mud", and drawing him closer to the house; how she saw him run to a boy riding a horse on the hill above the house; how she followed the dog home one night to see who he was... And, of course, the conversation that had just happened. Althroughout, Alesha's face remained blank and tired.<br />
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<br />
When Margo finally finished, Alesha simply shook her head, rubbing her temples. "Margo..."<br />
<br />
"Yes, I know--we can't keep a dog," she sighed, scuffing the floor with her boot.<br />
<br />
"No honey, not that--you can't... you can't just act so recklessly like that. I know your curiosity gets the better of you sometimes, but between your Dad's illness and Kory acting out, I just need <i>one </i>person in this house to try and keep their head on straight for me... I am so overwhelmed right now, honey--just please, promise me, you won't do anything stupid?"<br />
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<br />
"So--so you're saying... we can buy Mud?"<br />
<br />
"Maybe," Alesha sighed. "I have to talk to your father about it, first. But that's not what I was saying."<br />
<br />
Margo nodded deftly, trying to give her mom the biggest, most reassuring smile she could muster. "I know, Mom. I'm sorry. I promise--I won't do anything stupid."<br />
<br />
With a weak, exhausted smile, Alesha pulled her daughter close, and planted a kiss on top of her head. "Thank you, honey. I know I can count on you."<br />
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<br />
And yet, the more Margo thought about it, the more she realized--she wasn't entirely sure what she'd just promised her. What <i>exactly</i> would be stupid?<br />
<br />
Would it be stupid to see him again?<br />
To hold his hand again?<br />
To look into his eyes again?<br />
To dream about more?<br />
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<br />
Indeed, the longer she laid there--her body tired but her heart more alive than ever--Margo realized there was only one thing for certain:<br />
<br />
If that was the case, she had just made a promise she couldn't keep.<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Notes: As of this moment, I am officially moved back into our old house! It took a good 3 months longer than it should have, but better late than never!</b><b>I can't make any promises that Desperate Sims will return to a "normal" schedule--it seems every time I promise to start posting more often, life finds a way to get in the way--but I am hopeful that being home again will help my enthusiasm to increase to where it was before I moved to Winnipeg and had all passion sucked out of me, haha.</b><b>Thank you--all of you--for your continued support, as well as some of the messages I've received while I've been on break. You guys are an amazing bunch... I know I say it all the time, but I feel like I can never say it enough. I am constantly baffled by your kindness and patience. ♥ I could not be more thankful to have all of you stick by me!</b><b>Cheers, guys! :)</b></blockquote>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-42150231937714339122012-06-09T14:42:00.000-07:002012-11-17T09:03:05.909-08:00Waking Dreams"I just can't help that I feel like it's my fault, Alesha."<br />
<br />
There was a hesitant pause--a cautious breath and a glance sent in the opposite direction. The wrong direction. "I know, but this is Korva, Brad. She simply is... who she is. You being here hasn't made her any more or less rebellious. She's not doing it for the attention--she's just being herself. Things would be no different if you were at home."<br />
<br />
Alesha immediately regretted making eye-contact again with her husband. "How do you know that?" he asked in a low, flat tone. "How can you <i>honestly </i>say that?"<br />
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<br />
The other noises of the hospital suddenly became apparent. A collected voice from a nurse spoke over an intercom in the hall. A gurney passed in front of the door. A doctor dropped his pen on the ground, and quickly apologized to a patient who he'd bumped into. They all filled the room, illuminating the silence, the sudden expanse of space between them that had grown every day despite every attempt to tame it.<br />
<br />
A knot tightened in Alesha's throat. <i>Honest.</i> If there was anything in her life she had always been, it was honest. Secrets she had kept, but lies? Never lies. Yet, here she was, painting white lie after white lie to do what she could to keep her husband's self-hatred at a minimum--and she failed at doing anything but making it worse.<br />
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<br />
"I'm sorry," she finally spoke, weakly. "I just don't know what else to say."<br />
<br />
"Don't be sorry. You're doing the best you can--it's my fault." Alesha cringed when she saw him say the word 'fault'. He'd said it so many times, lately, you would think the poverty of 3rd world countries and the war in the middle east were all his doing. It annoyed her. He was no savior taking all their sins to the cross, when he died--there was no use in taking all the blame.<br />
<br />
After a moment of fidgeting in her chair, she caught his gaze out of the corner of her eye. "What?" she asked timidly.<br />
<br />
"I just love you," he said a broken voice.<br />
<br />
For the first time in an hour, Alesha smiled.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2012/06/waking-dreams.html">Read more...</a>
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<br />
Her next words were lost in her throat when the blinds on the door began to rattle, sending both their heads turning in that direction. Moments later, Margo's tall, boney frame wisped into the room alongside her sister, who walked like a girl with the world on her shoulders.<br />
<br />
"Hi, Dad!" Margo chirped softly. "How are you feeling?"<br />
<br />
"Like a pin-cushion in a tailor's shop," he responded with a dark smile. "They're incredibly fascinated with poking me full of holes. Your aunt must be positively jealous at how much blood I've gotten from these guys."<br />
<br />
"Brad," Alesha remarked scoldingly from across the room.<br />
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"Oh," Margo whispered, her face falling. "That sucks."<br />
<br />
"Enough about me, though--how was school today, kids?"<br />
<br />
"O-k," the eldest responded quietly, then looked at Kory, hoping for her to fill in her own two cents. Unfortunately, Korva said nothing to fill the void.<br />
<br />
"Kory?" Brad asked, trying to catch her gaze. "What about you, dear--I see you decided to cut your hair. I have to say, it's not nearly as bad as your mother thinks it is."<br />
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"Yeah, whatever," Kory groaned, rolling her eyes back as she shook her head and turned her gaze towards the window, as if hoping for something to appear and gobble her up rather than deal with this drivel.<br />
<br />
"I'm serious," Brad added, his smile slightly diminished.<br />
<br />
"No, you're not," came her response hastily. "You're full of shit."<br />
<br />
"KORY!" Alesha gasped.<br />
<br />
"What? He <i>is!</i> He's just saying that because he wants to get on my good side, because he's oh-so-sorry he can't be home, and that he's sick, and pathetic, and can't tell the truth because fuckin' forbid he poop anything but flowers and candy before he bites it."<br />
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"KORY, that is no way to speak to--"<br />
<br />
"YES IT IS! I'm just saying what you're all feeling! You're just all COWARDS! No one wants to tell the truth, so I am! This SUCKS!" Kory's ice blue eyes floating from her mother to her father, than to Margo's horrified face, which was slowly becoming more and more covered by her hands. "I hate Dad! I hate you! I HATE ALL OF YOU!"<br />
<br />
"Kory, please don't--"<br />
<br />
But it was too late. SLAM. Even the blinds on the window across the room rattled with her departure; it was a lonely, but fitting applause.<br />
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A gravity well seemed to have sucked all happiness from the room. Their lungs were left empty and wordless, until the clatter of a tipped cleaning cart down the hall suddenly awoke them from their stupor.<br />
<br />
Finally, a voice cut through. "Brad, she didn't--"<br />
<br />
"Alesha, it's alright." He offered a weary smile. "I'm glad she was honest. I didn't want her here to make me feel better. I wanted... to make her feel better. If letting it out helps her--I don't want you to stop it."<br />
<br />
Silence dawned again, but this time, it was not so empty. Through each of Brad's arms, a hand of support threaded. On his left, Alesha, her face morbid. On his right, Margo--mimicking her mother. She was unable to allow herself the openness of her sister; she would never be able to leave like that, even if she wanted to.<br />
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<br />
Suddenly, an unexpected rattling came again--and for a moment, the slight glimpse of blonde through the blinds worried Margo that Korva was back for another round of verbal punches.<br />
<br />
But, it could not have been anyone further from being her sister.<br />
<br />
"I'm here take another look at your bloodwork, Mr. Kane--oh, I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" were the words from the lips of Josh Seymour.<br />
<br />
... Josh Seymour? When did he grow so tall... become a doctor...<br />
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<br />
... become even more dreamy than ever before?!<br />
<br />
"Not at all, Doctor Seymour--come in, come in. Oh, have you met my daughter, Margo?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, indeed I have," he responded in a suave, manly tenor. "And I have never seen something quite so lovely in my entire life."<br />
<br />
"What--me?!"<br />
<br />
"Yes, you--always you, Margo..."<br />
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<br />
"Yes, Josh... I always thought you were handsome, too..."<br />
<br />
"Margo... Margo..." His voice--so handsome, so edible--suddenly began to warp and change, into something much more feminine--much more--what?!<br />
<br />
"MARGO!"<br />
<br />
"What, what?! I--oh." The sting of blood in her cheeks came quick but forgot to leave.<br />
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<br />
Margo's head dipped in shame while what felt like an audience of wolves stared into her back. Though they didn't laugh--not really--she could still feel the quiet amusement of their eyes, stinging her all around just as badly as actual jeers.<br />
<br />
Why, why did Kenzie and Veronica insist on sitting up front, where everyone and their uncles got a front row seat to her embarrassment? Every day, it was the same thing. Someone said something to her, she choked, they laughed, she blushed. Soon enough, it would be a game--how fast can Margo's face turn red? How fast til she cries?<br />
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<br />
"Sorry," she finally muttered to Veronica, who had since bitten her lip and looked away, herself blushing for putting Margo on the spot. Kenzie shot a sour look over her shoulder at a giggling girl a few rows behind them, but neither of them believed today was a good day for making a scene, so she sent an apologetic look at Margo and turned back to her book.<br />
<br />
"I was just gonna say--the teacher's gonna be here any sec, you probably want to wake up, yeah?" Veronica finally said with a worried smile, trying to ignore Wren making funny faces behind her.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, thanks," Margo nodded--thankful, but still blushing.<br />
<br />
A light clicking came from the corner of the room; a hush waved over the room as everyone sat up straight, their eyes glued on the door. But, when it finally opened, a sigh of annoyance exhaled from nearly the entire class.<br />
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<br />
Alas--it wasn't the teacher.<br />
<br />
"What?" Ian spat, looking first at the class, then behind him, searching for the spectre that had caused everyone such grief. "Y'all miss me or something?" When no one responded, he growled, before slouching towards the empty chair between the red-haired Wren and smirking Thane. It was apparently the class' cue to begin talking again, because the moment he reached his seat and threw his notebook on his desk, the room bubbled back to life.<br />
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<br />
Margo tried to breathe, tried to forget that the room was crowded behind her, tried to forget that Ian was standing mere feet from her chair--but she failed. All she could do was keep her head straight and pretend that he wasn't there, glaring at the back of her skull. Soon enough, though, something came to distract her from that.<br />
<br />
"You know, I really don't understand why some people come to school looking so unkempt and gross," came the unmistakable voice of Daisy de Wynter, at a volume clearly meant to be heard. "A little make-up goes a long way, you know?"<br />
<br />
Margo slowly looked over her shoulder--but she didn't have to look to know. Daisy's cold eyes were trained right towards her, a delighted smirk growing the moment their gazes met. "Success", her lips said, without actually saying them--and with it, a pit stabbed its way into Margo's gut.<br />
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<br />
Before Margo could do anything--if she'd even had the courage to--Ian's drawl came to her rescue. "Not for you, apparently," he laughed, dumping cold water on Daisy's parade. "You took a bath in it this morning and you still look like a cow, Hot Lips."<br />
<br />
It was Daisy's turn to blush as the class began giggling again, but she cowered back as next to her, her twin brother, Jackson, sneered in Ian's direction. "Why you little--"<br />
<br />
"Easy, Frank! Didn't your girlfriend tell you your face would get stuck like that if you made it too much?" Ian rolled his eyes, a light smile growing on his face as he made eye-contact with Thane, his partner in crime.<br />
<br />
Hot Lips. Frank. Although it amused Margo that Ian had assigned everyone in the class a pseudonym based on characters from the TV Show "M*A*S*H", it always lost its appeal the moment she remembered that <i>her</i> nickname had been derived from Maxwell Klinger, the cross-dressing corporal who, in the words of Ian, "reminded me of the way Margo traipses around in dresses, pretending to be a girl." Didn't get much worse than that.<br />
<br />
"Oh by the way--" He added, while he still had Jackson's attention. "Tell your brother thanks for the eye. I finally have something that'll match the thong I gave your mother last--"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Alright, that's enough!" Quicker than a flock of geese evading a predator, the heads of the class flashed in the direction of the front of the room, where apparently their teacher, Mr. Hobbs, had arrived unnoticed.<br />
<br />
"Oh hey--morning Colonel Blake!"<br />
<br />
"Good morning, Mr. Pesce." For a moment Mr. Hobbs looked rather timid, but after a stiff clear of his throat, he sent Ian a 'don't even think of starting trouble today' glare, and waved for him to take his seat so he could begin his over-prepared remarks.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"I won't waste time this morning, as we have a lot of important things to cover! First--your test on Greek root words has been moved to next week, to make some room for new plans on the agenda."<br />
<br />
And the peasants rejoiced!<br />
<br />
"Second--I've decided it's time for another group assignment. However, after the debacle with last quarter's projects, I'll be sorting you all into groups myself."<br />
<br />
The peasants groaned.<br />
<br />
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<br />
While most of the class simply found it an annoyance, Margo was suddenly overcome with panic. In a group, with someone other than Kenzie and Veronica? Was he serious? Mental?! Or was this some sort of diabolical plan to finally push her over the edge?<br />
<br />
Her body quivered, anxious and spewing sweat from every pore as he read, slowly, the list of names in each group. Three at a time, they were all grouped up until finally, there was only three names left--three names that left Margo both happy, and infinitely unhappy.<br />
<br />
"Veronica Grant, Margo Kane, and Ian Pesce."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"No, you can't!" Margo yelped, at the same moment Ian's much louder "What--seriously?! You're sticking me with Brain and Noseface?" echoed around the snickering room.<br />
<br />
"No, Mr. Pesce, I am assigning you to work with Ms. Grant and Ms. Kane--which you should be incredibly thankful for, judging by your performance on the last project." Mr. Hobbs sent Margo and Veronica a weary smile, before turning back to the blackboard to begin writing the specifics of the project down for the class to see.<br />
<br />
Once his back was turned, Ian broke out into a sarcastic smile, turning to Margo to say, "Well, I guess it's you, me, and Winchester then, huh Klinger?"<br />
<br />
"Good luck with the nerd squad, Hawkeye," Thane said in a cold, amused voice beside him.<br />
<br />
"Thanks, Trapper. I'm gonna need it."<br />
<br />
Margo whimpered--this was going to be a long, painful year.<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
Even when you factored the shadiest bars into the equation, the nightlife of Twinbrook was never quite as lively as anywhere else. The town was a sleepy place, and aside from those who were haunted by the worries of the day or plagued by the desires of the night, there was not much to find past midnight--even in the places where the lights were still on.<br />
<br />
But if you look hard enough, you'll always find at least one place with the music still on--and tonight, that place was the Red Rendezvous.<br />
<br />
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<br />
It was dead, but Lilobot didn't mind. The Oil Coladas in her system were working their magic, and she simply didn't care anymore. She had a new body... new curves, new abilities, new kinds of attention thrown her way. Why couldn't she show herself off, anyways? It's not like what she was showing was <i>real</i>...<br />
<br />
"WOO WOO!" cat-called one of the few patrons in the back of the room as she threw her shirt to the table, a difficult feat for a girl--even a robot girl--trying to balance on top of a counter that just <i>wouldn't</i> stop moving.<br />
<br />
Someone cranked up the music, which only made Lil dance faster, wiggle her hips harder. She liked her body. <i>They</i> liked her body. <i style="font-weight: bold;">It was fantastic</i>.<br />
<br />
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<br />
An unexpected opening of the front door caught a few of the long-eyed drinkers off-guard--especially those recognizing Tanner Grey as Twinbrook's newly minted Captain of the Police Force--but it didn't stop Lilobot. She just thought it was more audience for her little evening wiggle-fest.<br />
<br />
She was wrong.<br />
<br />
"LILY! What the hell are you doing?!" Lilobot's eyes blinked fiercely a few times as she searched for the source of the loud voice--and oh, it was right at her feet. "Have you gone MAD?! Get down from there!"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Why?" she giggled, shrugging and going back to her dancing. "I'm having fun, they're enjoying it--what's the harm in it?"<br />
<br />
"You're making a fool of yourself, is what--Lily, I can't believe you," Tanner groaned, shaking his head as he tried to avoid staring at her... obvious womanliness. "I'm serious. <i>Get down.</i>"<br />
<br />
"And what if I don't? You gonna arrest me?" she cooed.<br />
<br />
"I just might," Tanner snapped. "I have my cuffs, I wouldn't put it past me, right now."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Ooooh, fiiinnnneeeee," Lilobot finally conceded, which caused the couple sleepy, scruffy men at the back of the men to sigh in remorse. "I'll get down... ... THINK FAST!"<br />
<br />
As she fell forwards, flying through the air towards him, Tanner's life flashed before his eyes. Who knew how much a robot female weighed--and who knew if his skull would be crushed under the weight--so it took all his instincts to fight the urge to dodge out of the way... But to his surprise, as her arms looped around his head, she felt surprisingly light against him.<br />
<br />
"You smell... like my car's engine," he remarked with a small chuckle as he eased her to the ground.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Alright, I'm off the counteeerrrrrrr," Lil rolled in her old, heavily mechanical voice. "Do I really have to <i>go</i> though?"<br />
<br />
"Yes."<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
<br />
"Lil--just stop arguing. We're leaving!" To more groans from her audience, Tanner grabbed her sweater from the chair it had landed on, and awkwardly tugged it over her head as he pushed her out the door.<br />
<br />
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<br />
They walked for five minutes before Tanner said anything. Lil finally found her footing--and with it, a sudden sense of guilt. Even if she didn't remember this man, he still knew her, and he'd seen her look ridiculous. She thought she'd experienced all emotions possible, already--but no, not this magnitude of shame.<br />
<br />
When they reached the docks, she wearily plopped down on a bench, hoping it would finally get him to stop giving her the silent treatment. It worked.<br />
<br />
"How could you do that, Lily? All that hard work you've put into becoming more human, becoming respected--and this is how you use it? Acting like a teenager with no future?"<br />
<br />
"Why do you even care," Lil mumbled, rubbing her bare foot against the sidewalk. "I don't know you, anymore."<br />
<br />
"Because I know <i>you, </i>Lil. Or at least, I thought I did. I don't know. You've changed."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Yeah... I guess, I have."<br />
<br />
Tanner sent a suspicious look in her direction. "Then why--"<br />
<br />
"Because even after everything I've done--I'm still alone." Silence fell for a few moments; part of her hoped Tanner would speak up, prevent her from continuing, but she'd locked herself in the confession booth before she'd even realized she'd stepped inside. "I wanted to look human so I could feel human, Tagger--"<br />
<br />
"Tanner," he corrected.<br />
<br />
"--but I don't. No matter what--I'm still a simbot. Still so special that I'm one of a kind. So special I can't have kids, or grow old, or... or love someone the way people love each other. I thought this body would make me part of humanity--but now, I just feel more separate than ever."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Lily--don't feel that way."<br />
<br />
"Why? It's the truth."<br />
<br />
"No. It isn't." Tanner stepped closer, and--seeing the way she almost seemed to shiver against the night breeze--he looped his arms around her and pulled her softly against him. "Even before you got your new body, you <i><b>loved </b></i>me. Really <b>loved </b>me. I was too blind to see it, and now... its gone, and I don't know if you'll ever get it back. But you did have it. And you will again, someday... even if its not for me."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"... I really did love you--didn't I," she whispered, her gaze turning up towards the flickering eyes of millions of galaxies above them.<br />
<br />
"Yes," he replied.<br />
<br />
"And... you loved me?"<br />
<br />
"Still do," he ached with his heart.<br />
<br />
Lilobot scowled, and turned her gaze over her shoulder towards his. <i>"Then why can't I remember?</i>"<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
<br />
<center>
I was born in the wagon of a travellin' show <br />
My mama used to dance for the money they'd throw <br />
Papa would do whatever he could <br />
Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of <br />
Doctor Good <br />
<br /><br />
[CHORUS] <br />
Gypsies, tramps, and thieves <br />
We'd hear it from the people of the town <br />
They'd call us Gypsies, tramps, and thieves <br />
But every night all the men would come around <br />
And lay their money down<br /><br />
<b>- Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves, Cher (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0A8OxsI3Ao">Click to Listen ♫</a>) -</b>
</center>
</blockquote>
<br />
This time, Margo was ready.
<br />
<br />
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<br />
In her gut, she knew--this was probably a little evil. She'd spent weeks luring this dog in, constantly leaving him treats in the garbage, then treats on top of the garbage, and now--with what she believed was a stroke of brilliance--she had lured him to the front porch, leaving a large, rawhide bone right beneath her bedroom window.<br />
<br />
She tried not to peek, but it was so hard, when the sound of his un-clipped nails trotted along the boards of the deck, when his body *flumped* down and the grinding of his teeth on the bone echoed in her silent room.<br />
<br />
Today, though, there was a plan--and she wasn't going to mess it up, this time.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Margo was careful. She knew her clumsiness would startle him if she used the front door, so like last time, she snuck out the side... then snuck around, and crept up the steps. One. Step. At a time. She grinned like a maniac after she cleared the last one--nope, no tripping today, Mr. Front Steps!<br />
<br />
Her fingers quivered sweatily with her camera in an over-tight grip in between them. She paused to get a good look at him. He was <i>dirty</i>. Not just a little bit dirty... He was caked. Although he didn't look uncared for--though it was hard to say, with how much food she'd been leaving him--he certainly looked like a stray. Why, then, did he run to that Man in the Moon? Where was he from?<br />
<br />
Before she could consider anything else,<br />
FLASH.<br />
<br />
The quiver of anticipation in her forefinger prematurely took a picture of her feet.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Lightning fast, the dog dropped his bait and whirled around, giving Margo the most wide-eyed, frightened look she'd ever seen.<br />
<br />
For a moment--one of those moments that hung in the lungs for what felt like a short infinity--they simply stared at each other. Each had been completely caught off guard, and had no idea what to do.<br />
<br />
It was their first meeting--their first <i>true</i> meeting--and this is what the dog of her dreams did:<br />
<i>He ran</i>.<br />
<br />
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<br />
This time, though, she was <i>prepared</i>. Camera strap firmly wrapped around her wrist, she dashed after him down the steps, the tread of her boots kicking up dirt as she flew, flew, <i>flew</i> after this dog.<br />
<br />
She did not call him--she knew he would not come--but she did not want to, anyways. Margo wanted to see where he was going. Tonight, that was all that mattered.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Several minutes later, her lungs on fire and her feet crying for mercy, The Dog revealed why it looked like he hadn't seen a bath in months; he dived headlong into the muddy outcroppings of Twinbrook's swamp.<br />
<br />
Margo had to tread carefully--it was easy to get stuck out here, especially in the dark--but lucky for her, The Dog seemed to know which paths were the safest. He wasn't the quickest devil, so she managed to stay at least 20 feet behind him, keeping up until he disappeared behind a massive tree.<br />
<br />
She could already tell that he'd led her right to her goal. Voices, music, and the glow of a crackling fire resounded just beyond the tree--so, with a gulp and a few timid steps, she trudged through the mud and approached the trunk with her hands extended.<br />
<br />
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<br />
At once, her eyes widened--mystified. Every part of her body suddenly began to tremble, but at least this time, she managed to keep a check on her trigger-finger. Her camera was poised, but even though the moment was perfect, she couldn't pry her eyes away long enough to aim the lens at what she was seeing.<br />
<br />
She had expected to find people, and certainly a clue about where her Man in the Moon had come from...<br />
<br />
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<br />
... but this? What she saw, she had certainly <i>not</i> expected.<br />
<br />
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<br />
A girl, who moved so gracefully even her cousin Gracie would have cause to be jealous.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Fire that danced nimbly on fingertips--music that sang just as sweet as her Aunt could play.<br />
<br />
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<br />
A man and a woman, full of so much character she wished desperately to hear what it was they spoke about so heatedly.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gl3vHnRoHIA/T9E45-z4sLI/AAAAAAAAZbI/jMAzHbmDLow/s1600/20-Screenshot-653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gl3vHnRoHIA/T9E45-z4sLI/AAAAAAAAZbI/jMAzHbmDLow/s1600/20-Screenshot-653.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
And a boy. <i>The boy</i>.<br />
<br />
He could not have been much older than Margo--if he was even older at all. She knew instantly who he was the moment that The Dog laid down beside him--but part of her felt like she'd known him for much longer. He was young, but he looked old. Older than life, older than time. Eyes as dark as sin, a smile that put her heart aflame.<br />
<br />
<i>Her shadow</i>.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oZcZbH9OVQ4/T9E47NtJ46I/AAAAAAAAZbQ/UmBMmZSW2xw/s1600/21-Screenshot-656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oZcZbH9OVQ4/T9E47NtJ46I/AAAAAAAAZbQ/UmBMmZSW2xw/s1600/21-Screenshot-656.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Margo's heart betrayed her; she was so overwhelmed, that though she was able to raise her camera to take a few awkward, blurry pictures, her excitement overcame her, and she giggled.<br />
<br />
The dark depths of his eyes flickered towards her. She froze.<br />
<br />
"Who's there?!" hollered a brogue voice from the boy's lips. "Aye?"<br />
<br />
She didn't move.<br />
<br />
"Oy Badger--go check it out."<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b3OL6gIvmuc/T9E47wlgdMI/AAAAAAAAZbY/bVCuuHHUB5Q/s1600/22-Screenshot-657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b3OL6gIvmuc/T9E47wlgdMI/AAAAAAAAZbY/bVCuuHHUB5Q/s1600/22-Screenshot-657.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
A medley of emotions suddenly crashed in Margo's ears. Fear, surprise, adrenaline, excitement, curiosity--she could not make sense of it, and she didn't need to. She didn't have time to feel it; all she knew was she needed to get out of there, and <i>fast</i>, before she got to find out who this 'Badger' was.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wt2QA4q-Gb0/T9E49CY_imI/AAAAAAAAZbg/BdomOixv45Y/s1600/23-Screenshot-667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wt2QA4q-Gb0/T9E49CY_imI/AAAAAAAAZbg/BdomOixv45Y/s1600/23-Screenshot-667.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
... Too late.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"AAIIIEEEEEEE!" echoed over the vast waters of the murky swamp--and those who may have previously been unaware of her presence certainly were not anymore.<br />
<br />
Hermes himself would have been impressed with her speed as she dashed, heels pounding and mud flinging, into depths of the swamp. She did not look behind her to see if 'Badger' followed--she didn't care, as long as he didn't catch her. All that mattered was that she get home, behind the security of her locked door, where curiosity would NEVER get the better of her, again.<br />
<br />
Luck guided her in--she found her front-steps in what felt like one heartbeat. She ached from every bone, and tears streamed down her face from the wind that had whipped through her eyes. There was nothing that didn't hurt, but in a way, she was glad.<br />
<br />
"I am... never... doing that... again," she whimpered amid her laughter.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-50716783142382308152012-05-24T17:58:00.001-07:002012-05-24T17:58:45.972-07:00May Productions: Shorts & Creations!As seems to end up being the norm, lately, I haven't been able to update Desperate Sims quite as often as I planned! At the start of the Season I'd hoped to get back into posting every 1-2 weeks, but May ended up being quite a busy little month for me!<br />
<br />
I'm actually pretty happy to say--the lack of new episodes has been mostly due to focus on other projects, that I'm really happy I get to share with you guys! There's quite a lot to cover, so here we go!<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Short Stories</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
There's a lot of "behind the scenes" moments in Desperate Sims that I can't really fit into the main storyline anymore, but all these little life excerpts are very important to the back-story and the characters. I know some of you guys miss seeing the rest of the family, and this is a great way to let you know what they're up to without diverging too much from the plot.<br />
<br />
I really wanted to try and do full-fledged posts on some of these, but I've been finding that this format--dialogue only--is a lot more constructive on helping me get the point out quickly and effectively. This way, I can do lots of them quite easily! Most of these I was able to put together within a day--which, I know doesn't seem all that important with how short they are, but when you're like me and just want to get these "moments" out of my head and into yours ASAP, it is really helpful!<br />
<br />
I hope you guys enjoy them!<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Lilobot's Happy-Fun-Time Adventure</b></h3>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0p8moXvhV1qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="337" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0p8moXvhV1qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/tagged/lilobot's-adventure/chrono">Click here to read</a>!</b>
</div>
<br />
I've already linked to this, but I recently finished it, so now would be a good time to go back and re-read it from start to finish. The "comic book" style was quite a lot of fun to do, so I'll probably try it again in the future, but it was also a bit of work--which is why it took me so long to feel up to finishing.<br />
<br />
As I've mentioned before: this short is about Lilobot's disappearance right after she transferred to her new body! It just wouldn't be Lil if she didn't go off and do something crazy--so, this sort of explains why she was late to Amelia's wedding.<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Margo and Kory Go to Barnacle Bay</b></h3>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LpAOH3K81NA/T5tr-dJGQnI/AAAAAAAAYqE/PUyQJQfAKV4/s1600/13-beach1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LpAOH3K81NA/T5tr-dJGQnI/AAAAAAAAYqE/PUyQJQfAKV4/s400/13-beach1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><a href="http://yourstrulymargo.tumblr.com/tagged/barnacle-bay-trip/chrono">Click here to read</a>!</b>
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
I'm not sure if I can consider this as much of a short as a compilation of Margo's thoughts on their travels. It includes two of her "blog" posts, as well as several photos and snippets of what they got up to while they were there.<br />
<br />
It's not really a short, but because it talks a bit about how Travis' family is doing, I figured it was important to include!<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Growing</b></h3>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vxwDAFWju4M/T77QdAO6gsI/AAAAAAAAY5U/Nu318jzqdYc/s1600/GrowingCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vxwDAFWju4M/T77QdAO6gsI/AAAAAAAAY5U/Nu318jzqdYc/s400/GrowingCover.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/tagged/short:-growing/chrono">Click Here to Read!</a></b></div>
<br />
The first of the 'mini-shorts', Growing is a small tale about the newest member of the Kane family. Even though Amelia and Naomi's story is over, it's important to show that their life together really is just beginning--and it just wouldn't be the same if they didn't start a family of their own.<br />
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<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Rest in Peace</b></h3>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8X4_dva2Nno/T77QYlJud2I/AAAAAAAAY5M/Fj9B8MiLJNk/s1600/ShortCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8X4_dva2Nno/T77QYlJud2I/AAAAAAAAY5M/Fj9B8MiLJNk/s400/ShortCover.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/tagged/short:-rest-in-peace/chrono">Click Here to Read!</a></b>
</div>
<br />
Not to worry--this mini-short isn't laying either Jeb OR Meredith to rest--just their peace of mind! I always felt that Chandra's ghost never got the ending she deserved (only a brief mention in back in Season 4), and it was about time that the family's matriarch handled the literal skeleton in the closet.<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
I still have plans to do many-many more of these, since they're nice and easy and fast to do! In fact, I already have a couple of ideas of doing some "flashback" ones, about Jeb and Meredith when they were younger! If you have any that you would like to see, feel free to toss me a suggestion! I have no idea when I'll get to making more, but they're a nice diversion from everything else, so I hope you like them as much as I like making them. :)<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Ask Margo</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
I'm not sure if this really deserves mention, but the Tumblr version of Yours Truly, Margo has turned into what appears to be the perfect location to offer Margo advice and ask her questions! She's gotten quite a few!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://yourstrulymargo.tumblr.com/post/21605935755/hi-margo-my-name-is-darcy-wilson-and-i-need-help" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uKQwBGwxHlQ/T6OUNK3iyOI/AAAAAAAAYxE/5NnyaK0IJn4/s400/14-meremargo2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Click the picture to read Darcy's question about Meredith.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://yourstrulymargo.tumblr.com/tagged/ask-margo/chrono">Click here to read them all!</a></b></div>
<br />
If you'd like to ask your own questions or leave your suggestion for future topics for Margo to talk about, Tumblr is the best place to do it--and you don't need an account to leave an anonymous message. Naturally, you can still ask questions/offer advice on the Blogspot blog, though. It's totally up to you!<br />
<br />
I'd also like to mention. When I first started YTM, the main purpose was to provide a place for Margo to hold "polls" about what she should do about certain things--and I certainly have not forgotten about that. There's a lot of future decisions you guys will be helping her make, but it will take some time for her to reach those points, so be patient!<br />
<br />
In the meantime--there's several suggestions I've received I still have plans to do (Chrysame suggested she write a letter to Brad to tell him how she's feeling; an Anon on Tumblr asked her to write more about school), so keep your eyes open for those, and keep your mind open for suggestions you'd like to make, yourself!<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Downloads, Galore!</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
I've been quite busy making things and sharing things, but I have not yet announced them here, so here you guys go:<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Pose Packs</b></h3>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1z6guRZxP1qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1z6guRZxP1qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/20513320042/this-is-my-first-riding-pose-pack-it-is-strictly">Download Basic Riding Poses</a></b></div>
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<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m38n7dSN5G1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m38n7dSN5G1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/22066610675/awkward-moments-a-sims-3-pose-pack-i-finally">Download Awkward Moments Pose Pack</a></b></div>
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<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3ospf9La61qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3ospf9La61qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/22637497983/love-horses-a-sims-3-pose-pack-this-is-a-mix">Download Love & Horses Pose Pack</a></b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4i807i81A1qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4i807i81A1qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/23647100783/show-jumping-a-sims-3-pose-pack-this-is-for">Download Show Jumping Pose Pack</a></b></div>
<br />
I'll be making more pose packs in the future as I have the need for certain poses; unfortunately though, this is one thing I will probably not be asking for suggestions on very often. If you want to use the ones I've made though, just make sure to download the Pose Player and install it along with the packs!<br />
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Sims</b></h3>
<br />
The following sims are downloadable in a .zip file which includes all CC; the CC, however, is optional, so you do not need to install it if you do not wish to use it. (You'll need to replace their skin and hair in CAS, but that's an easy fix!)<br />
<br />
To install the sims: simply <b>put the .sim file into your Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 3\SavedSims folder.</b><br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1pxi9j96r1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m1pxi9j96r1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="337" /></a></div>
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/20310966159/kaleekalo-as-im-very-close-to-hitting-another">Download Margo Kane (Teen Version)</a></b></div>
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<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m309upsOHc1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m309upsOHc1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="337" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/21747905442/as-a-follower-gift-for-hitting-my-next-milestone">Download Ian Pesce</a></b></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0y33yrIbz1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0y33yrIbz1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="287" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/19360016760/love-lilobot-well-now-she-can-be-yours-too">Download Lilobot Kane</a></b></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m2qvtycEA31qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m2qvtycEA31qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/21396495171/someone-asked-me-to-re-upload-travis-family-since">Download Travis Kane & Family (Updated Version)</a></b></div>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
<b>Lots</b></h3>
<br />
Not many lots; these are just two lots that have been updated for Showtime! (Notes on what EPS you should probably have for them are located in their descriptions.)<br />
<br />
To install them, make sure you place the .package file in your Documents\Electronic Arts\The Sims 3\Library folder.<br />
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<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m13u1nMIDx1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m13u1nMIDx1qk5ux8o1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/19542945187/the-bubble-buzz-has-now-been-updated-for">Bubble Buzz (Updated for Showtime)</a></b></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0vcoxvC971qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m0vcoxvC971qk5ux8o1_1280.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/19298605807/the-red-rendezvous-updated-for-late-night">Red Rendezvous (Updated for Showtime & Late Night)</a></b></div>
<br />
<h3 style="text-align: center;">
Actions</h3>
<br />
For those of you who use Photoshop to edit screenshots, you may be familiar with Actions and how they work. Finding actions that look good on Sims screenshots is difficult, though, so I've started to make a few of my own. This is the first one, there will probably be more in the future! (Note: These probably require Photoshop CS to use.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3px1pXKyD1qk5ux8o2_500.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3px1pXKyD1qk5ux8o2_500.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/22663554882/kaleekos-warm-color-pop-action-this-really-isnt">Download Photoshop Action Here</a></b></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Competitions!</span></b></blockquote>
<br />
Ever since Equus Sims opened up their forums, I've been keeping pretty busy over there giving advice on making poses, getting involved with the amazing equine community, and entering in some of the competitions that have been held! I've even hosted my very own, which I'm currently working on judging/prizes for, so if you're curious about that, <a href="http://forum.equus-sims.com/index.cgi?board=funshows&action=display&thread=417&page=1">keep an eye on this thread!</a><br />
<br />
But as for the competitions I've entered, here's a few of pictures from entries I submitted:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yVKSQ5VhU60/T4FAih4XZ7I/AAAAAAAAYbc/L2ZuOrMYxbM/s1600/2-AHSEShowJumping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="432" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yVKSQ5VhU60/T4FAih4XZ7I/AAAAAAAAYbc/L2ZuOrMYxbM/s640/2-AHSEShowJumping.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />
As you can see, Margo (and Daisy) have been keeping quite busy, even though in the story they technically haven't learned to ride, yet. They will soon, though! They will soon.<br />
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<br />
Alright guys, that's it for now! I'm going to start working on DS's next episode sometime tonight; hopefully I will have it finished by this weekend.<br />
<br />
Thank you guys for having never-ending patience with me! I really hope to get back to answering your comments soon, as well as of course continuing on the story. You guys are amazing--I am thankful for each and every one of ya! *mwah!*<br />
<br />
Cheers~!<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-842935519819813432012-04-26T12:46:00.000-07:002012-04-26T12:47:31.068-07:00Our Guardian AngelsRoger Mitchell let a rush of morning air into his lungs as he walked down the side steps of their house, taking in that last bit of freedom before making his way to work. The gentle *click click* of heels told him his wife was right behind him, diligently walking him to his car before she made her way to her own--just like she did every morning. It was a comforting sound, though he generally forgot to notice it. It was far too easy to take the last few moments of her presence for granted.<br />
<br />
Today, though, instead of her usual quick parting kiss, Bridget reached out a hand and pulled her husband towards her.<br />
<br />
"You know, today's a half day at school today," she said slowly, fiddling with the front of his sweater. "The kids are going home early..."<br />
<br />
"Really, hm?"<br />
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"Yep... and a little bird told me you only had to work the morning shift, today," she added with a suggestive smile, drawing one of his arms--then the other--towards her waist as she backed him against the rear of the car.<br />
<br />
"As long as no one decides to start the town on fire. Why," Roger questioned with a smirk. "You have plans?"<br />
<br />
"Maaaybe," Bridget shrugged. "Natasha's going to be spending the evening over at Josh's, so we'll have the house alll to ourselves..." She shrugged again, leaving the rest up to his interpretation.<br />
<br />
The look in his wife's eye made the corner of Roger's mouth twitch into a smile. "Oh? Well then--I guess I'll have to make extra sure Wyatt doesn't make me stay late today, won't I?" He pulled her against his lips so quickly she didn't have time to react to his suggestion.<br />
<br />
Man--it was nice that Natasha was finally old enough to shove out the door once in a while.<br />
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Roger's spirits were high as he watched Bridget disappear into the garage--so much so that he didn't notice a swift blur of blonde swoop behind his SVU as he climbed into the driver's seat, nor the strange clunking noise right before he pushed his key into the ignition.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until the roar of the engine was in full rhythm that he noticed anything was wrong.<br />
<br />
Then, it hit him.<br />
<br />
<i>The smell.</i><br />
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Roger frantically shut off his engine, but he'd been a fireman long enough to know that the odor wasn't coming from under the hood--so naturally, he turned around to look behind. What he saw was <i>not </i>what he expected.<br />
<br />
"What in the bloody hell--" he slammed the door to the vehicle so hard he heard the glass rattle in the frame. "What is going on?!" Unfortunately, no one was around to answer him, so he stamped to the end of the car in disgust, trying to cover his nose from the fumes that were still pouring out of his tailpipe.<br />
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<br />
As the greenish smoke continued to rise, two giggles were quietly stifled around the corner of the house.<br />
<br />
"That was <i>amazing</i>," the high-pitched squeak of Pippin's voice said cheerfully, giving Korva just the validation she needed. "Think he saw us?"<br />
<br />
Korva shrugged, clearly not concerned. "Who cares?" After a moment, she smiled even wider--if that's even possible--and cupped her hands around her mouth. "GO GREEN OR SMELL GREEN, GAS GUZZLER!"<br />
<br />
"What--WHY YOU LITTLE--"<br />
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Korva sprinted away at light speed, Pippin following along not far behind her trail of dust. "Keep going, keep going--he's gonna catch us! EEP!" she squeaked.<br />
<br />
"Ya--huff huf--right--huff huff," Korva gasped, casually tossing glances behind towards the man still gagging on stink behind them. For good measure, as they passed the trash can, she kicked it over with a slam of her foot, sending garbage skittering out all over the sidewalk. "YOU SHOULD LEARN TO RECYCLE, TOO!"<br />
<br />
"You--Get back here, kid!!"<br />
<br />
"Neveeeerrrrr!"<br />
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<br />
"I'm just saying, you guys are missing out," Veronica said with a wry shrug as she swayed back and forth in her swing, the sound of crunching gravel following every drag of her feet. "While you guys are locked away in a computer lab squishing stories into a newspaper nobody's going to read, we're going to be off taking field trips, competing at other schools--"<br />
<br />
"--showing everyone just how bad-ass your piece pushing skills are compared to theirs," Kenzie finished with a giggle, making Veronica's face scrunch up in disgust.<br />
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<br />
Kenzie gave her a light, 'just kidding' wink, before adding, "Sorry Vee, Margo and I just aren't that into chess. Right, Margo?"<br />
<br />
After a few moments, a small "Mhm," was Kenzie's answer, barely audible atop the sound of cars rolling by on the nearby street.<br />
<br />
"Aw c'mon, Margo's plenty into chess--at least, plenty into <i>Josh Seymour</i>... I hear he's disappointed you're not jooiinniingg," Veronica remarked in a sing-song voice.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, but I bet Natasha's not. Didn't you see what her friend wrote on Margo's blog? I know Claire's a bit of a prat sometimes, but she's right--it's probably not a good idea to get on ol' Gnat-face's bad side..."<br />
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<br />
Miles away, Margo heard their voices echo in her mind. She understood what they were saying:Josh, Natasha, chess, her blog... the petals fell gently into the current of her thoughts, but were carried away, uncaptured, unread.<br />
<br />
Closer to her thoughts, yet further away, a bigger fish had hooked her line. The sounds were distant and murky, but she recognized the cursing voice, and the grunts of two boys talking with their fists--and though she couldn't see them from this side of the building, her eyes were drawn in their direction. Lines of worry and curiosity drew tight around her eyes.<br />
<br />
"It's no use, Kenzie--she can't hear you."<br />
<br />
"MARGO." BANG BANG BANG; the resonance of Kenzie's hands hammering the metal by her feet almost sent Margo falling backwards, petrified, off the top of the slide.<br />
<br />
"What!" Margo squeaked, clinging to the bars with her dear life. "What?!"<br />
<br />
"Aho, she lives!" Kenzie laughed, standing at the foot of the slide next to Veronica, her hands on her hips. "C'mon, we're going to walk you to the Ranch. You ready to go?"<br />
<br />
"Oh... Yeah, right." Margo hid her blush against her shoulder as she let her body slip down to level ground.<br />
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"Anyways, as I was saying," continued Kenzie from their previously unprocessed conversation. "I think Margo and I are going to have a great time at the newspaper. I've already got this idea about doing little investigation articles on little unsolved mysteries around the school--Margo said she'd help me out with them. It'll be fun!"<br />
<br />
"Ha, maybe I need to hire you guys to figure out who stuck the gum to the bottom of my shoe during gym class," Veronica grumbled as she shuffled along beside them towards the sidewalk. "Couldn't scrub it off in time, so my shoe kept popping off during laps."<br />
<br />
"See? What do you say to that, Margo? It's going to be great. You have nothing to worry about! Daisy's probably going to be so busy writing articles about how <b><i>horrible </i></b>life is being rich, she won't have time to bother us."<br />
<br />
"Yeah... I guess." Margo was not convinced.<br />
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As they approached the front of the school, Margo's steps became slower and slower, until her pace had diminished so far that Kenzie and Veronica both stood behind her, watching her melodramatic gait with their eyebrows raised.<br />
<br />
"What's wrong, Margo?" Ronnie asked, biting her lip.<br />
<br />
Margo gave no verbal response; instead, her head tilted in the direction of a boy's scream of defiance--then the *thud* of a body slipping to the pavement, and several pairs of footsteps fleeing the crime scene. Both Kenzie and Veronica sent wide-eyed looks at each other, then at Margo.<br />
<br />
Before anyone else could say anything, Kenzie shook her head fiercely. "NO, Margo. You can't. He's just going to make you upset, and you know it."<br />
<br />
Margo sent a pleading look at Veronica, but unfortunately, she didn't get any support there, either. "Sorry, I gotta agree with Kenz... You really shouldn't."<br />
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<br />
She could feel the knot in her stomach growing the longer they gave her reproachful looks. Kenzie and Veronica didn't understand--they never had. It was something Margo simply couldn't explain in a way that made them okay with her obsession, and it had haunted her all the years they'd been friends. They supported her in everything... everything, but this.<br />
<br />
In truth, Margo knew there was nothing she could do, nothing she could fix about him. She'd given up hope a long time ago, but part of her--oh, that part of her that believed she flew over mountains and seas while she slept--had an urgent need to see that hope renewed.<br />
<br />
"I just..."<br />
<br />
"... need to go to him," Kenzie finished for her, so predictable Margo had become. "Yeah, we know." She laughed and tried to rub the frustration out of her face. "You're hopeless, you know that?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah... I know..." Margo sighed, dropping her arms to her side in defeat.<br />
<br />
As they began to leave Margo to her quest, Veronica turned and sent a worried look back, offering a small, "Be careful," in leiu of the ability to convince Margo to leave it be. It was their only parting words before they each gave a weak wave and wandered in the opposite direction.<br />
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<blockquote>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
You left me in the dark</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In the shadow of your heart</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I took the stars from my eyes, and then I made a map</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And knew that somehow I could find my way back</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So I stayed in the darkness with you</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>- Cosmic Love, Florence & the Machine <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfBY96qxVRQ">(Listen Here ♫)</a> -</b></div>
</blockquote>
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<br />
Margo could feel herself trembling before she took her first steps in his direction. Without her friends, Margo felt naked. They were her shield from the world, without which she was was bare and defenseless in a way that left her sick to her stomach--even worse, around <i>him.</i><br />
<br />
<i>Ian</i>. He sat, crumpled, against the corner of school building, moving very little as she tentatively approached. One step, two step, three step, four; at the last, when she was barely within arms-reach, he finally registered her existence. The tossled mop of hair shrouding his eyes lifted, slighty--only enough so that she could feel his hot gaze burning towards her feet.<br />
<br />
"You again?" he groaned as his head slumped back against the wall behind him. "Just can't leave anything be, can you."<br />
<br />
Margo's gaze turned away, ashamed, as her hands began to shake--she intertwined them behind her back to hide her cowardice. "What h-happened, this time?" she finally managed to stutter.<br />
<br />
"Why the hell does it matter? Just go away."<br />
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<br />
"I.. I.. I just.. Oh my g--"<br />
<br />
Ian had finally managed to fumble up from the ground, favoring one leg and flinching when his ribs hit a groove in the wall--and once at eye level, the damage hit Margo like a grand piano, ripping the air clean out of her lungs. She couldn't recall a time when she'd ever seen Ian's face pristine, but she had never seen him like this, right after the marks had been made.<br />
<br />
Margo must have turned a shade of green, because the next words that left Ian's mouth were, "What, never seen a black eye before?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"W-w-well yeah, but... Ian...why did they--"<br />
<br />
Ian fiercely broke her off. "My face was too pretty, obviously... Can't you just leave me alone?"<br />
<br />
He turned his face away from her. For a moment, Margo thought she caught a glimmer of shame, but it evaporated the moment his lips snarled back again and his gaze flickered towards a passing car, which he seemed to find much more interesting than her.<br />
<br />
Margo bit her lip, but the words were out before she could stop them. "<i>I wish you would stop fighting</i>."<br />
<br />
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<br />
She immediately regretted speaking when Ian's eyes snapped back onto her with fire in their depths. "Sorry, I forgot it was my job to grant your wishes, Princess," he growled with the thickest sarcasm. "I must have left your list in my other pants."<br />
<br />
If possible, Margo's face deepened to a darker shade of red. "It's not that," she whimpered, her head tilted away. "I just... don't want you to get in trouble."<br />
<br />
Ian shook his head, trying not to let the fury still welling inside him escape. "<i>Why,"</i> he groaned between gritted teeth.<br />
<br />
"I... I don't know. I just... don't."<br />
<br />
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<br />
Her answer clearly annoyed him so deeply that he didn't dignify it with a response; instead, he let his head drift to the side again, yet again pretending she wasn't there, as if in hopes she'd eventually spook away.<br />
<br />
She didn't. For a moment she did consider it, but the thought of leaving him in such a condition wrought her with agony. Gently and quickly, she licked the base of her thumb, and pressed it under his eye. "Just hold still, let me wipe this off you--"<br />
<br />
"<i>Stop</i>," he whispered, gently trying to push her away. "Don't. <i>Don't touch me</i>. <i>Please.</i>"<br />
<br />
"--if they see you like this... just tell them... tell them I just... ran into you with my bike or somethi--"<br />
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<br />
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"<br />
<br />
In one swift movement, she was against the wall, with Ian's hands pressing down and caging her in--his face was so close to hers, she could smell the blood drying against his cheek. For a moment, nothing happened; they were both caught in a heartbeat, breathless and frozen.<br />
<br />
Finally, he exhaled, releasing what felt like a wave of fire against Margo's face. "You need. To stop this."<br />
<br />
"S-stop what?" She spoke so timidly she didn't recognize the sound from her own mouth.<br />
<br />
"Stop... trying to get involved."<br />
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<br />
Margo let herself blink, so the fear welling in the corner of her eyes wouldn't escape, just yet. She wanted, desperately, to be brave enough to push him away, to tell him he was wrong--but her hands betrayed her, quivering violently at her sides, useless. She was captive to his eyes, even though they were closed from her.<br />
<br />
<i>"Why,"</i> she finally asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. "I just want to help."<br />
<br />
Ian's gaze avoided hers, instead staring blankly at a brick to the side of her. As he did, she searched his face for some sign of an emotion that wasn't anger, for a shred of the boy she'd had a glimpse of so long ago... but there was nothing. Nothing but the red of anger, the red of the blood that stained him. It inflicted more pain than the words that came through his gritted teeth.<br />
<br />
"Well, you're not--so just <i>stay away from me,</i> you hear?! ... <i>Just... stay away.</i>"<br />
<br />
As his words fell to silence, his hands dropped and turned away, leaving her trembling against the building, alone.<br />
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<br />
When he managed to get a few steps away, Margo wrangled a burst of courage, pressing her weight back onto her feet to pursue him.<br />
<br />
"J-just remember... if anyone asks... it was my bike--"<br />
<br />
A nearly inhuman noise came from his throat. "Don't you have somewhere to be?!"<br />
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<br />
As a matter of fact--<br />
<br />
"OH MY GOSH! THE RANCH!"<br />
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<br />
Margo fought the weight of her pedals harder than she ever had. Each push let out an unnatural squeeeaaaakk, but with bleary eyes she ignored the strange looks of passerbys and kept going.<br />
<br />
Reee ree ree ree ree went the bike--it was annoying, but the rhythm kept her focused, and on the right thing, too. Ian and his words tried to cycle back into her mind, but as the wind whipped through her hair much slower than it needed to, she managed to panic about her tardiness enough to keep her momentum steady--a tough feat for a girl who pretended to be sick half of her gym classes.<br />
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<br />
Several minutes later, with her lungs on fire and legs turned to puddy, the rustic walls of the Simlous Lake Horse Ranch came into view. Margo barely made it through the front gate before her bike was sent skidding into the surrounding brick wall, and her feet clumsily toppling over it to aim her towards the picnic bench she saw Christina and Rachel lounging on.<br />
<br />
"Sorry heh I'm heh late!" she wheezed as she bolted towards them, still managing to stay vertical by some miracle.<br />
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<br />
"Where have you <i>been</i> girl, we were so worried!" Christina said, shaking her head. "And what is <i>that</i> on your hands!"<br />
<br />
"Oh, it's... paint... from... remedial art class." Remedial art class--Margo was going to be kicking herself all night for that one.<br />
<br />
Rachel, however, gave Christina a sour look and nudged her in the elbow. "Will you stop fussing--look at her, she's out of breath!" In the flash of a moment, Rachel's eyes went glossy. "And oh my goodness--will you look at how much she's <i>grown?! </i>Eee, our little Margo has gotten so big!!"<br />
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<br />
It had been quite some time, but it wasn't until Margo saw the look in both oogling faces that she realized just how true that was: she <i>had</i> grown. It seemed fresh in her mind, but she'd barely been learning to tie her shoes the last time she'd seen the pair of them. Those were the days of rubber boots and pigtails, of hopscotch and vivid daydreams...<br />
<br />
... though maybe that last one still hadn't disappeared, quite yet. "Oh gosh, how long <i>has</i> it been?" Rachel asked, giddily doing calculations on her finger.<br />
<br />
"Ack, well don't say it out loud," Christina sniggered. "I'm not ready to feel old, yet! Now c'mere you!" Before Margo could object, she was being embraced by not just one, but two pair of arms.<br />
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<br />
"So, I guess you're pretty curious why we both came all the way out here to see you, huh?" Rachel asked as they finally withdrew, leaving Margo feeling even more like play-doh than before.<br />
<br />
"Ya, I guess," she replied with a soft, excited smile.<br />
<br />
"As you probably know, we've been talking to your parents quite a lot lately, and--if you're open to it--we came to a little bit of an arrangement, regarding your enrollment in the Riding Academy."<br />
<br />
Margo's heart suddenly dropped through her stomach. "W-what kind of arrangement?"<br />
<br />
"Well, Christina and I know the owners of the Ranch, here," Rachel indicated with a bit of a sweep of her arm. "And it sounds like lately they've been a little bit understaffed--which isn't too good for us, because a couple of the horses here are some from the LEC we brought over to try and find new homes. So, we were wondering--"<br />
<br />
"And it's totally up to you--" Christina added.<br />
<br />
"--if you'd be willing to come work here for a few hours after school every day, instead of paying a tuition of your Academy fees. It won't be a proper payment, but it'd help you out with the experience you're lacking, and--well, we'll be owing you a huge favor, in the future."<br />
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<br />
"So, you're telling me... You want me to come work here in exchange for classes?" Margo's heart skipped a beat. "That's..."<br />
<br />
"Not what you were expecting?" Christina laughed. "I know it sounds great--and it is, trust me--but it's a <i>lot</i> of hard work. We don't want you to say yes unless you really, really think you can handle it."<br />
<br />
Margo chewed on her lower lip for a moment in thought. "I--I think so... I just... I mean I have to ask my parents--"<br />
<br />
"--We already did, they think you're ready to hold down a job. It's all on you, hon."<br />
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<br />
"BUT." Christina cut Margo off as she opened her mouth. "Before you make your <i>final</i> decision... why don't you come meet a few of the horses?"<br />
<br />
Christina didn't need to say another word; Margo's face immediately lit up like a house on Christmas Eve. "I--of course!!" she stuttered, although her excitement was tempered by a growing nervous pit in her belly.<br />
<br />
Clearly not noticing Margo's sudden bewilderment, the two women headed in the direction of the stalls without her. "Alright then--follow me!"<br />
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<br />
Margo let her lungs fill and empty several times before struggling to catch up to them with her wet-noodle legs. "Ooooh!" she gasped when she finally did.<br />
<br />
"This, m'dear, is Rock the the Bass--or 'Rocky', for short. He's one of retirees... A little too old for showing, but still young enough to give a family an experienced horse for a few years, if we can find him a good home."<br />
<br />
"He's gorgeous," Margo wheezed as she reached out her hand to rub the flat of his nose.<br />
<br />
"Friendly, too," Christina added cheerfully. "But he can be a little... forgetful. Rachel and I joke he's got a bit of dementia--can't seem to remember where he's going half the time, which is part of the reason we aren't using him to teach new riders anymore. If neither of them can remember how to get home--"<br />
<br />
"--it can cause a few issues," Rachel finished with a bright chuckle and a wink. "But other than that, he's a cuppa tea to deal with--just stuff his face with apples and he'll follow you around like a lost puppy."<br />
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<br />
As they began moving to the next stall, Margo could already tell what was up next was <i>not</i> going to a "cuppa tea". A loud bang against the side of the stall was quickly followed by a high-pitched shriek, a whinny so loud the countryside seemed to whinny right back with echoes. The saliva on her tongue instantly dried with fear.<br />
<br />
"W-who's that?" Margo raised a shaking finger to point to the dark face poking its way out of the bars--one looking at her with an intelligence in its eyes that left her shaking in her boots.<br />
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<br />
"That would be the diva Rachel somehow managed to breed," Christina said with light, amused annoyance. "Who is so aptly named, 'Sound and the Fury'. Because she never shuts up."<br />
<br />
"Aw c'mon, she does! Just... not that often," Rachel giggled. "She can be a little bit of a handful..."<br />
<br />
"Little bit? HA."<br />
<br />
Margo trembled, trying to avoid making eye contact with the horse staring her down with curiousity. "So like... is she... mean?" she stuttered, looking at Christina with worried eyes.<br />
<br />
"Nooo, no no, she's not mean, just a bit wild. She's only been old enough to ride for a little while, but no one's had the patience to break her because every time we try, she acts like she's in the rodeo." Christina made a hand-gesture to imitate a rider falling on their butt. "She's actually quite playful, just... a little bit of a free spirit."<br />
<br />
"So... just don't try to rider her," Margo made a note to herself. "Check."<br />
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<br />
After they began to move away from Fury's stall--who gave them a pitiful parting nicker--Christina and Rachel gave each other a small, knowing smile; Christina nodded, and Rachel moved away from the other two.<br />
<br />
"Where's she going?" Margo asked, peeking over Christina's shoulder curiously.<br />
<br />
"Well... there's one more horse we want to show you, but we thought you might like to see her a little more... up close and personal," Christina winked.<br />
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<br />
"What--why do you say--" Margo began, but it was a question Christina would never have to answer.<br />
<br />
"OH MY--OH MY GOSH!"<br />
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<br />
"Is it--is it really--"<br />
<br />
"The one and only," Rachel smiled as she carefully guided the horse beside her. "You know a horse is special, when it always finds a way back to you, you know."<br />
<br />
Margo continued to blink, but her eyes had to be deceiving her. This couldn't be--not Dusty Dame, the tiny thing that she used to play with all those years ago, that defended her from Daisy, that rolled in the mud with her on summer nights and curled in her stall with in winter days--until someone came along and took her home... and Margo stopped coming to the LEC. It just wasn't the same, after she'd left.<br />
<br />
"But she's so big..."<br />
<br />
"So are you, compared to how you were back then."<br />
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<br />
"But she went back to her home, in Riverview! I saw her leave, myself!"<br />
<br />
"Well, the lady that owned her was a tad elderly, you see--unfortunately she got very sick and passed away a couple of weeks ago. The family's not sure what they want to do with Dusty, so in the meantime, they asked us to keep an eye on her for them since we've looked her, before."<br />
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<br />
All of Margo's troubles ballooned away. Ian, Daisy, Natasha--thoughts less than vapor in her mind, now. Dusty could not have seemed more an angel to her than if she sprouted wings and flew--that face, that could cure even the deepest pains, was finally close enough to touch again. Margo swore it was only her boots holding her down from the moon.
<br />
<br />
"Hey girl... remember me?" Margo asked lightly, raising her fingers to gently rub the mud-caked face. "I'm Margo."<br />
<br />
But she didn't have to say a word. In moments, they were nose-against-nose, breathing in the fond smells they had missed for all these years: for Margo, the dandelions Dusty was so fond of; for Dusty, the mustard stain on Margo's shirt. Margo laughed--and she swore, she could have seen Dusty smile.<br />
<br />
Memories are made to be remembered, but Margo wondered, briefly, if it was so they could be relived.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<br />
An hour later, the doors to the Kane's house burst open wildly. Margo even forgot to check the door for one of Korva's traps, but today, she was lucky--there was nothing between her and her goal.<br />
<br />
"Mommy, mommy! MOM, where are you?"<br />
<br />
"I'm upstairs, sweetheart," she heard call back in a muffled voice.<br />
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<br />
Muddy footprints followed each of Margo's steps up the staircase, until she finally reached the landing with her arms still waving excitedly over her head.<br />
<br />
"Oh MOM! You aren't going to BELIEVE this--I gotta tell... I gotta..."<br />
<br />
Margo felt her heart catch in her chest. <i>Something was wrong</i>.<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Mom..." her voice cracked in her throat. "Where's Dad?"<br />
<br />
At first, there was no answer. No sobs, or tears... Just silence. Silence that spoke louder than words.<br />
<br />
Finally, when Margo had crossed the room on those legs ready to give out at any moment, she heard her mother's reply. "He.. uh." She cleared her throat. "He collapsed again, so Moe told me to bring him to the hospital."<br />
<br />
Margo hesitated, but she had to know. "Is it serious?"<br />
<br />
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<br />
"His.. his uh... blood cell count. It's way below where they thought it was." Alesha struggled to finish the sentence with a tempered voice. "He's stable, but..."<br />
<br />
Alesha didn't have to finish that one. Margo already knew the rest: <i>He's stable, but he can't come home</i>.<br />
<br />
The sounds of the empty house--or the lack thereof--suddenly became overwhelming. Lilobot was gone. Her father was gone. Korva--she might as well be gone, too. Within a few weeks, their home had fallen from bustling life into emptiness. Though Margo was still here, she could see it in her mom's eye: the pain of being alone.<br />
<br />
As with Ian, Margo was filled with the hopelessness of her inability to change what had happened--but it would not stop her from pretending, for a moment, she could.<br />
<br />
With fingers still trembling, she reached out her hand.
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-7680955504755480732012-04-02T13:08:00.000-07:002012-04-02T13:11:06.063-07:00The Mystery Man<div class="tr_bq">
It was a world of endless, gray, bitter fog in which Margo lived. Even in days where the horizon was clear, or the sky was blue, it all was only a pale imitation of the world outside this wall-less cage. Every color here seemed more dull--every cloud more weary.</div>
<br />
Her grandmother always said that Twinbrook was a place where dreams went to die. She wasn't sure whether to believe it or not, but Margo spent every waking moment trying to prove her wrong. Dreams were all she had--she couldn't let them go.<br />
<br />
Occasionally, though, that bittersweet reminder would come: there was at least one wishing star that hadn't yet abandoned her.<br />
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<br />
She could feel its sunshine tasting her skin. Margo let it captivate her in the way a lover would; the light left lovenotes on her eyelids, the heat lightly touched her lips, and the wind stroked its fingers through her hair. She was past the days of pretending that's what love really felt like, but she still hadn't lost hope it might be even better.<br />
<br />
Moments like this reminded her that, despite the love of her friends and family, it just wasn't enough.<br />
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<br />
Margo barely had time to soak in the warmth before it was stolen by the same cloud she'd been eyeing dreamily only a few minutes before.<br />
<br />
<i>'Figures,'</i> she sighed to herself, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the deck. <i>'You always leave when I need you... just like everyone else'.</i><br />
<br />
Speak of the devil. "MMMAAAARGOOOOOOO, where did you run off to?!" The chipper voice had no problems traveling through the glass door separating herself from the house's interior.<br />
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With a bit of a sigh, Margo trudged back inside, clunking the door a little bit too hard behind her. "Sorry," she mumbled under her breath as she made her way over to Lil, who stood in the middle of the living room, fidgeting.<br />
<br />
"It's okay, Margee!" Lil shrugged. "Just had me a little worried when I came back downstairs and you had vanished!" Lilobot smiled widely, nudging her fingers in the direction of the boxes cluttered to the side of the room. "So? Shall we do some more unpacking?"<br />
<br />
"Mmm... Ya, I guess."<br />
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<br />
Lilobot's uncannily human face scrunched up sourly. "Margee? You alright?"<br />
<br />
"Yep." Margo's gaze fell to the floor.<br />
<br />
"Hey--I may just be a hunk of metal with a new coat of paint, but that does not mean I am not programmed to know a frown when I see one. I mean, if you want, I can call Mom and Dad instead--"<br />
<br />
"No, no--" That was definitely the sort of threat to get Margo to loosen her tongue. She stuttered, but even she couldn't resist saying what had been haunting her for weeks. "I j-just... want you to come home."<br />
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<br />
"Oh, Margo..." Gentle fingers clutched the teen's shoulder, giving it a small shake when Margo's eyes and face angled towards the floor. "Why?! You do not need me to take care of you, anymore! And you know if you need me, I am only a phone call away."<br />
<br />
Margo's shoulders tightened into a shrug. "It's just not the same."<br />
<br />
"Of course it is not--but it is better, for both of us. I miss you too, but... I am so busy these days you would not see me much, anyways." Lilobot wore a smile, but it faded when Margo didn't turn her head up to see it. "Do you want me to take you home?"<br />
<br />
A pained gaze met Lil's. "I'm okay."<br />
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<br />
"Well then--let us get something accomplished, shall we?"<br />
<br />
Margo took a deep, prayerful breath to try and raise her spirits, then took a step towards the unopened boxes--but a heavy rapping on the window behind her stopped her in her tracks.<br />
<br />
"Heeh-ooohh" came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. Margo saw a hand waving wildly through the glass, but at first glance, she didn't recognize the owner of it.<br />
<br />
Lilobot's face toiled and scowled, quite obviously confused. "Huh, who is that?"<br />
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<br />
"OOOH!" The moment she swept open the door, a bundle of pink flowers blocked her view from anything else. "My favorite!! Are they--are they for me?"<br />
<br />
"Of course, my dear--who else?" He was courteous and suave, despite the obvious edge of nervousness in the chuckle that immediately followed his presentation. The man waited anxiously as Lilobot took the gift, holding them just close enough to her face to experience the aroma but not squish the life out of them with her nose.<br />
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<br />
As the petals slid across her lips and back into the fingertips of her other hand, she turned and headed back inside. "These are so lovely--who sent them?"<br />
<br />
An uneasy quiet fell upon the room. Lil waited expectantly for the man's response, but her words seemed to hit him like a heavy fist to the stomach. "I knew you weren't going to be happy to see me, but that's a little harsh, don't you think?"<br />
<br />
Lil blinked quickly a few times as she set the vase onto her coffee table. "Why would I not be happy to see you? Have we met?"<br />
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"You don't--you don't remember me?"<br />
<br />
"Uuuuuhhh... no? Am I supposed to?"<br />
<br />
Margo looked at the man, then back at Lilobot. It had taken her a minute, but she suddenly realized: <i>Tanner</i>. It was him--the man who'd broken Lil's heart.<br />
<br />
She'd only seen a few pictures of him, the ones that Lil had swooned over during their brief but intimate online relationship, but the name--and the indescribable pain he had caused her when he discovered she was a simbot--was something that drove knives into Margo's gullet, seeing him standing here.<br />
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"No... this can't be happening." Tanner let out a deep moan, then violently rubbed his palm against his head and slicked his fingers back through his hair. "When I heard about what you did... changing bodies and everything... I heard it's possible you'd lost some memories, but I never thought--I never thought you'd forget... <i>everything.</i>"<br />
<br />
Only one of Lilobot's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yeah, that is an occurrence with a very low probability. Are you sure you did not just come to the wrong house?"<br />
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Tanner's gaze flipped from Lilobot to Margo then back again, his eyes frantic. "Of course not--Lil, I came here for <i>you.</i> I... I realized I was wrong. And when I heard what you did, because of what I said--I just had to see you, I had to tell you..."<br />
<br />
He paused and sighed, clearly unsure of himself. "You have to believe me. We had something, something special--I don't want to let that go. I'm not lying--please... Margaret--Margaret, right?" He looked at Margo, praying he'd remembered her name correctly. "Tell her. Tell her who I am."<br />
<br />
But Margo was no fool. She surely knew who he was, but that didn't change what he did. There were many things she was willing to forgive, but breaking the heart of one of her dearest friends--her sister? Not in a million years.<br />
<br />
Margo leaned her body against Lilobot's, cowering and protecting at the same moment--and, looking at him with the deepest glare imaginable, she shook her head. <i>Never</i>.<br />
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"Look, Mister--the thought is sweet, and maybe you are telling the truth, but... I am not sure what to tell you. I do not remember you, and if little <i>Margo</i> here is not willing to stand up for you--" Lilobot shrugged. "You best be steering yourself out that door."<br />
<br />
Her words were final, and he knew it. Tanner opened his lips to say something--<i>anything</i>--but Margo's continued glare was enough to keep him silent. Shaking his head, he turned and left them, so absorbed in his thoughts he didn't even bother to shut the door behind him.<br />
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When he was out of ear-shot, Margo let her arm drop from around Lil's back. Everything suddenly hit her like a bag of bricks. "Lil--you were lying, right? You... you remember him?"<br />
<br />
Lilobot shook her head. "Nope. The guy is a mystery to me. Why? Is he for real?"<br />
<br />
"Lil..." Margo's mouth hung open. If she didn't remember <i>Tanner</i>, the man who'd spun so much change into her life, what else was missing from her memories? "How much else did you lose?"<br />
<br />
She was met with giggles. "Well Margee, that's a silly question--if I don't remember it, how can I remember I forgot it?"<br />
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<br />
"Then what are you going to do?"<br />
<br />
Lilobot sighed, staring bewilderedly at the man still walking slowly from her home. Although she didn't want to admit it, Margo had a point. As much as she'd like to believe it was only the heartbreaks that she'd lost, the nagging feeling that there was something else--something important--kept ticking away at her mind.<br />
<br />
Finally, Lil responded. "That," she said with a heartsick, worried voice. "Is a good question."<br />
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<br />
Margo flinched as she listened to the heavy footed Lilobot drive away, her little pink car speeding down the hill so fast there wasn't any reason to stand and watch her go, hoping to catch a wave.<br />
<br />
Besides, the ride home had been rather silent. The two had tried to avoid talking about the elephant in the room, but it was clearly still nibbling on their thoughts.<br />
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Unfortunately, Margo's day wasn't going to get any better just yet.<br />
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Every bit of her was soaked. She was partly grateful that the water was at least warm, but the fact that she'd just had a massive bucket dumped on her head was too big for that to matter.<br />
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"I.. I... Wet... wet... so wet... aaaggghh..."<br />
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At least she didn't have to go far to see the perp; Kory quickly danced into view, skipping gleefully at the sight of her sister falling prey to her trap. "HA HA! Looks like Maarrggoo forgot to take her clothes off before taking a shoowweerr! ♫"<br />
<br />
"W...W... wwhhyyyy...." Margo could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she didn't want to add one more reason for Korva to laugh. She used every grain of will left inside of her trying to hold them back. This day was only getting worse and worse--but she couldn't let it get to her, not in front of <i>this</i> one.<br />
<br />
Kory, feeling proud of her work, smacked her hands together gleefully and shrugged. "You were just a li'il stinkier than usual today, thought I'd do us all a favor and wash it off."<br />
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<br />
"What is going o--KORVA KALLY KANE. <i>What</i> have you done?!"<br />
<br />
Alesha Kane was rarely angered, but there was patience, and then there was stupidity--and being patient with a constant string of terroristic attacks by one of her own daughters would be pure instanity. For all her desires to remain calm, this was one step beyond a very reasonable edge.<br />
<br />
"What do you have to say for yourself?!<br />
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"I'm <i>just</i> doing my part to clean up a little pollution, mom--some <i>smell </i>pollution. Margo's stink is bad for the envirin-ment!"<br />
<br />
"YOUNG LADY... You go upstairs, you grab a mop, and you clean up this mess--and then we are having a long, <i>long</i> talk. Do you understand me?!"<br />
<br />
Margo groaned. The last thing she wanted was another reason for Kory to make her her target. "No, Mom, really, it's fine... I'm okay... It's just water..."<br />
<br />
This time, it was her father who responded--Alesha had reached the end of her rope. "Nice try, but this is enough--Kory, go do as your mother says." Bradley gave Korva a long, hard look when she still continued to remain still. "NOW."<br />
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The moment that Kory's back was turned, the <i>real</i> waterworks let loose.<br />
<br />
"Oooh, sweetie--I'm sorry... are you sure you're alright?"<br />
<br />
"Just... bad... *sniffle* day... I... *sob* need to change... *heave* my clothes..."<br />
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<br />
"Well, before you go--honey, there's something your father and I would like to tell you."<br />
<br />
Margo wiped her nose on her sleeve. A sour, suspicious look was bounced between both of her parents; though she loved them dearly, their constant schemes to try and cheer her up were starting to get old. There was simply a point where constantly trying to make someone happy turned from being sweet to insulting.<br />
<br />
"Mom and I have been talking to your old friend Christina--you know, the gal who runs the Equestrian Center you used to visit all the time when you were little?"<br />
<br />
Margo whimpered. "Mhm?"<br />
<br />
"Apparently, the Center's starting up a new Riding Academy to teach girls your age--she remembered how much you used to love seeing the horses there, so she was wondering if you wanted to be accepted as one of their first students. Think you might be interested?"<br />
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<br />
Interested? The word didn't even hit Margo's mind. She wasn't interested--she was <i>psyched.</i> There was only a few things that could've turned her world upside down so completely so quickly, and--bless her parents--they'd found just the right one.<br />
<br />
"I can't--I can't believe it--she wants me?! ME?! I--EEEEEEEE!!"<br />
<br />
"Now now, your father and I haven't quite decided if we're willing to commute you all the way to Appaloosa Plains every week--"<br />
<br />
"OH PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE--"<br />
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"Well..." Bradley sent a knowing smile at his wife. "I guess we can manage."<br />
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<br />
"Tankootankoo <i>tankoo!!</i>" When she finally stopped moving like a Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm Flailing Tube Man, she ungracefully lept onto her father, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.<br />
<br />
She didn't have to say a word for them to know how much this meant to her--to finally have something she dreamed of come true. They didn't want to get her hopes up, that this would finally be a place for her to fit in and belong, but even the slightest chance of finding a gift she could be proud of was worth any amount of hours it took to take her to where she needed to go. If Appaloosa Plains it was, then there they would take her.<br />
<br />
"You're welcome, sweetie--but before we tell you about the details, you should probably go change your clothes," Bradley chuckled. "You're getting <i>me</i> soaked, now."<br />
<br />
"Yes, Daddy! Eeeeeeeee!!" She quickly disappeared into her room, squealing all the way until her door was shut.<br />
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<br />
The click of the doorhandle cued Bradley to drop his charade.<br />
<br />
His body weakly hobbled to the side, then drifted backwards as he tried to remain steady--but it wasn't until Alesha's firm hand pressed against his back that he was finally able to right himself. "Eeaasy, easy, I've got you--just a little further forward..." Alesha's voice was calm despite what she felt beneath her skin.<br />
<br />
"I'm alright," he wheezed, trying to lean against the post instead of his wife. "Just let me go, I can handle myself. I don't need your help."<br />
<br />
"Stop lying to me. C'mon, let's go sit down."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"Really, Alesha--I'm fine. She just caught me off-guard..."<br />
<br />
"So your own daugher can't hug you without knocking you over? Sweetheart, I understand this is hard, but if it's getting <i>this </i>hard... we need to take you back the doctor. I can't stand seeing you like this."<br />
<br />
"Maybe... I just... I just need to sit. That's all. Okay?"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
But he was so frail. Bradley had always been thin, but never this thin. Always been pale, but never this pale. Every day, he wasted away a little more--and the only one who couldn't see it was the rocket scientist. Ironic, that his intelligence made him so blind. Pride... it truly was a deadly sin.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Alesha--I didn't mean to--"<br />
<br />
"Sssh... There's nothing to be sorry about. Let's just forget it, alright?"<br />
<br />
"I... alright." ... "I love you."<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
"Alesha?"<br />
<br />
"Yes... I know." ... "I love you, too."<br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
"I always will."<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="text-align: center;">
Got woken in the night, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by a mystic golden light</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The smell of redwood giants. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The banquet for the shadows. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Horse and I, we're dancers in the dark.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There is no turning back. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There is no turn.</div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><b>- Horse & I, Bat for Lashes (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDlQGx1L-wc">Click to Listen ♫</a>) -</b></b></div>
<b>
</b></blockquote>
<br />
Margo snapped awake.<br />
<br />
For a moment she felt angry. It wasn't great to be torn from a rather sulty dream with Josh Seymour, but her groggy eyes widened when she realized what it was that had woken her--and anger was suddenly the last thing on her mind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
She stopped moving instantly, dropping to silence to see if she could still hear it. For a moment there was nothing, which caused her heart to sink, but then it came: the unmistakable thud of the trash can. She unconsciously smiled to herself. Her little friend had most definitely come to visit, tonight.<br />
<br />
Without a another second's hesitation, Margo groped around on her nightstand for her camera, then tripped into her slippers and did her best not to stumble loudly out of her bedroom and into the living room.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<i>'You're not getting away without at least one good picture, tonight!'</i> she told the little beast in her mind; the very thought of it put an evil grin on her face.<br />
<br />
It was about time. He'd appeared suddenly two weeks ago, and ever since she'd been put on garbage duty cleaning up after all the rascal's playthings scattered all over the lawn. However, during those two weeks, Margo had been doing anything but trying to drive the animal off. Instead, she'd been leaving bigger and bigger treasures for the animal to find. A steak, some lasagna--anything she managed to sneak away from the dinner table.<br />
<br />
The goal wasn't to get him fat--just lure him in long enough for her to get a good picture... or, even better, to introduce herself to the furball.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
He flailed about, unaware of her existence. Margo listened carefully, but the dog was so distracted by his trash bath that her gentle shuffle across the deck did not alert him to her presence. <i>Good,</i> she thought. <i>At least I can get a decent picture</i>!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Margo could feel the dew already seeping through her slippers, but she braved the swampy feeling as much as she could to kneel at just the right angle she needed. He was right there--right within the grasp of her lens--so close she could almost feel the drool from his mouth spraying in her direction.<br />
<br />
"Just hold still for onneee second," she muttered.<br />
<br />
Aloud.<br />
<br />
<i>Oops.</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
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<br />
The dog fled the scene of his crime with lightning speed--so quick that Margo barely had time to react before he'd disappeared around the corner.<br />
<br />
"Wait--wait, come back!! It's okay, pooch!" Margo fumbled to her feet, losing one of her slippers to the dewy grass and another to the slick garbage spread like caltrops in her path. "I'm not going to--"<br />
<br />
She continued to chase, but as her eyes turned higher and higher across her field of vision, it wasn't just after the dog she ran. Margo had to blink several times, but she still couldn't believe it. He wasn't just running away from her--he was running <i>to</i> someone.<br />
<br />
As she tried to catch him, bare feet gathering all manner of gravel twixt her toes, her eyes remained fixed on the horizon.
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-16jJ5EmNGdk/T3fBOgu51MI/AAAAAAAAYWE/jlRJqlaBElI/s1600/39-Screenshot-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-16jJ5EmNGdk/T3fBOgu51MI/AAAAAAAAYWE/jlRJqlaBElI/s1600/39-Screenshot-55.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
So far away, but so large that it seemed she could reach out her fingers and touch it, a figure stood framed by the moon. Its light and its shadow seemed something of a vivid dream, but the manner in which the dog ran towards it made it anything but a figment of her mind.<br />
<br />
Light spilled around him, so bright she could feel the sting of it water her eyes. In the void of the night, it pulled in her gaze with so much gravity she could not look away... not that she wanted to. But, it wasn't the beauty of the light that kept her staring--it was at the solitary figure framed in it's rays.<br />
<br />
He seemed more lurid, somehow, for all the light around him. He sucked it in, as if using its power to only feed the darkness. His identity was masked and his purpose, a mystery, but there was nothing in the world Margo wished for more than to be pulled into the shadow of his existence.<br />
<br />
Her heart…….. It <i>quivered</i>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Ba dump.<br />
Ba dump.<br />
<i>Badadump.</i><br />
Before she could breathe, he was gone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Alright, before anyone gets too excited about the magical existence of a blue moon: no. Margo's imagination is just very very vivid, and often times things to her will seem much different than they actually are.<br />
<br />
I also wanna throw a thank you out to <b><i>altheaquin </i></b>for helping me with the writing on the last section of this, because it was kicking me in the ass for several hours and I couldn't come up with jack. Thank you, peaches!! ♥<br />
<br />
Also, in case you don't remember who Tanner is at the beginning of this post--the last bit of <a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2011/11/unrequited-love.html">this episode</a> should refresh your memory!<br />
<br />
Well, that's it, guys--Season 8 has officially begun!! Hope you're ready for the ride! ;)</blockquote>
<br />
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-70531730213184187022012-03-23T07:13:00.000-07:002012-03-23T09:28:50.462-07:00Character Bio: Ian Pesce<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-33mGmOD6hU8/T2ykgF-NM3I/AAAAAAAAYIY/FyJqfDmDVwM/s1600/Ian.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-33mGmOD6hU8/T2ykgF-NM3I/AAAAAAAAYIY/FyJqfDmDVwM/s400/Ian.png" width="230" style="border: 0px;" /></a></div>
<b>Name:</b> Ian Sandro Pesce<br />
<b>Current Age: </b>Teen<br />
<b>Traits:</b> Evil, Hot-Headed, Natural Cook, Great Kisser<br />
<b>Favorites:</b> Black, R&B Music, Goopy Carbonara<br />
<b>Star Sign:</b> Scorpio<br />
<b>Theme Song:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHWQ9-OJH5E">"Soldier" by Ingrid Michealson</a><br />
<br />
On the surface, Ian Pesce is the social equivalent of a bull in a china shop. He's hot-tempered, demeaning, impatient, and easily blinded from the big picture by small things that cause him irritation. No one gets in his way, and those that do never make that mistake twice.<br />
<br />
In fact, simply calling him 'hot-tempered' may be an insult. Although Ian spends quite a lot of his time angry about something, the things that truly anger him don't just put him over the edge--they send him into a blinding, incontrollable rage. He would never strike anyone who he truly cares about, but there are more than a few jokes about Ian's habit of 'talking with his fists', or the trail of carnage he leaves in his wake after an argument.<br />
<br />
To many, this pent up rage is something of an enigma, as the rest of his family is quite pleasant, but those that know him better know that the source of his problems come from something entirely different: the unattainable standards he sets for himself. Even if his siblings weren't remarkably talented, Ian would never be satisfied with himself. Never smart enough. Never strong enough.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
"Potential?!" For the first time, Ian whirled around and actually made eye contact with her. "Why, so I can be even more out of place than I already am? I'd skip the baby stuff and move onto multiplication tables and fatter books so what, I can still be three steps behind my brother and sister?"<br />
"Ian, calm down, I didn't mean to--"<br />
"No! I'm sick of it! You wanna know why I'm so mean to everyone? Because it's the only thing I'm the best at! Ethan's soooo smart and soooo talented at everything he does--and Sophie's sooo popular and sooo good at sports. But me? I'm nobody. And I'm tired of being ignored. It's my turn to be special! I don't care how!"<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b>-- Ian Pesce & Alesha Kane</b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2011/10/work-in-progress.html"></a><a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.ca/2011/10/work-in-progress.html">"A Work in Progress"</a></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
Believing that the world sees him the same way, Ian refuses to acknowledge reality for what it is. Compliments towards him are seen as insults and love is seen as a lie--something quite painful for Ian, who desperately desires the approval of his peers. Unfortunately, thinking that he will never get it, he does everything in his power to prevent it, to form a solid excuse for why everyone dislikes him so much.<br />
<br />
However, for all his faults, underneath it all Ian has many virtues. It's not just his anger that runs red hot: the potential for passionate love is immense, as his his loyalty to the few who can handle him. He never backs down--not from his ambitions, or from the people he cares about. Ian would go to the end of the world and back, literally, for someone or something he believed in.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aFI9LR6neFY/T2xfY-IDwXI/AAAAAAAAYIA/aqgwKfkQqdA/s1600/IanTeenCollage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aFI9LR6neFY/T2xfY-IDwXI/AAAAAAAAYIA/aqgwKfkQqdA/s640/IanTeenCollage.png" style="border: 0px;" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And, as with all who are young, his true talents may have yet to surface... all he may need is a little time and patience to sort out his abilities for him to find the sense of accomplishment he so deeply needs--but, with his quick temper, it may be quite some time before that comes to pass.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, Ian tends to lurk (particularly at night) with those that share like-minded ambitions for grandeur, hoping to finally find what it is that would truly make him whole... but be wary, citizens of Twinbrook: to Ian, the ends justify the means. This boy is willing to do anything, <i>anything</i>, to get what he wants... and it's unlikely he'll take 'no' for an answer.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-50036401448028904442012-03-23T05:20:00.000-07:002012-03-23T09:29:21.951-07:00Character Bio: Margo Kane<div style="margin: 0px;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0B_NwYcyrhI/T2ykhELESXI/AAAAAAAAYIg/87HDOTLV2D8/s1600/margo.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-right: 0em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0B_NwYcyrhI/T2ykhELESXI/AAAAAAAAYIg/87HDOTLV2D8/s400/margo.png" width="156" style="border: 0px;" /></a></div>
<b>Name:</b> Margo May Kane</div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<b>Current Age:</b> Teen</div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<b>Traits:</b> Coward, Clumsy, Shy, Loser</div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<b>Favorites:</b> Purple, Indie Music, Hot Dogs</div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<b>Star Sign: </b>Cancer<br />
<b>Theme Song:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sp0kp7FOt8k">God Help the Girl - God Help the Girl</a><br />
<br />
Some girls get it all... and what's left over is Margo.<br />
<br />
Whether it's from her experience being kidnapped as a toddler or just the way she was when she was born, Margo May is a perpetual tumbleweed of problems. First she took months longer than usual to learn to walk, then she couldn't sleep without her night-light, then she couldn't leave the house without wearing her trusty yellow rubber boots: "Because what if I stepped on a nail or sumfing!" she'd say. Over time many of these difficulties subsided, but their effect on her general cautious approach to the world has not.<br />
<br />
'Timid' is an understatement when it comes to her. Most everything scares her; doctors have almost reached the point of chronicling her phobias. Talking, of course, is one of them. Although she warms up to people after a while, it takes a lot of coddling and support to get her to speak, and even then she never says much. She's about just as clumsy with her words as she is with her feet--only making her all the more self concious. As such, she's put most of her effort into learning how to write instead, but that in itself was more a struggle for her than for most because of her dyslexia.<br />
<br />
And yet, her lack of ability to communicate verbally has led to an incredibly over-active imagination. Perhaps that's why she's often so fearful--it's easy to be scared when you imagine everything that could go wrong--but it also has given her great comfort where the world is so overwhelming. When it all becomes too much, she can retreat to her daydreams and live as the princess she always wishes she could be.<br />
<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
a hopeless dreamer, that’s what they call me. a ‘don quixote’. like dreaming is this pathetic, useless thing. a total waste of time. to me, though, it’s not… but maybe that’s because it’s the only time anything ever seems to go right for me. if it weren’t for fairy tales and fantasy, i’d never be the girl trapped at the top of anyone’s tower.
<br />
or maybe i’m just not meant to be rescued.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
-- <b>Margo Kane</b><br />
<a href="http://yourstrulymargo.blogspot.ca/2011/06/dreamer.html">"the dreamer"</a></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
Unfortunately, where most would make up from their faults with extraordinary gifts in other areas, Margo finds herself feeling pretty... average. She's not very smart, not very pretty, not very artistic, and plumbbob knows she can't dress herself like a normal person half the time.<br />
<br />
Her one emerging talent may be her ability to tell stories, but overcoming her incredibly low self-esteem so that she has the courage to share them is one thing she hasn't quite mastered--but in an effort to try and change that, she started her very own blog, <a href="http://yourstrulymargo.blogspot.com/">"Yours Truly, Margo"</a> to try and find a way to reach her voice out to the world.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_BkJLZoA_44/T2xfbsChIdI/AAAAAAAAYII/ZMvS5195AXQ/s1600/MargoteenCollage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_BkJLZoA_44/T2xfbsChIdI/AAAAAAAAYII/ZMvS5195AXQ/s640/MargoteenCollage.png" style="border: 0px;" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Perhaps, in time, she'll discover where her true gifts lie--but for now, this girl just has to make up for her extreme lack of skills with an extreme abundance of heart. Her wild brown hair isn't the only thing she inherited from her mother--she also has the ability to see the best in others, even when no one else can. However, although it's gained her a few friends, Margo still sees it as less of a gift and more of a curse, as she ends caring about more people than who care about her.<br />
<br />
You can download Margo with her family on the <a href="http://desperatesims.blogspot.com/p/kaleekos-desperate-downloads.html">downloads page</a>.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-18100353696600538772012-03-16T20:18:00.000-07:002012-04-02T13:27:02.161-07:00Season 7 Wrap-UpIt always feels a bit surreal to do these, but this time around it feels more-so because, for better or for worse, Season 7 was the Season that took me the longest to write, even though post-count wise it was fairly short. Real life got in the way quite a lot! But, despite how long it took me, this season was probably my best yet--so for everyone who stayed around from start to finish...<br />
<br />
<b><i>Thank you!</i></b> Thank you for bearing with me through the hard times, and sharing with me the good times. Thank you for being so supportive, and helping me keep on coming back when I lost my enthusiasm for writing. While these characters and the time I spend writing them is mostly something I do as a gift to myself, having you all inspire me is such a blessing. You guys are the best.<br />
<br />
But, I better move on before I spend too much time gushing on you guys, because seriously--I could do it all day. And I'll do it again anyways before the post is over. XD<br />
<span id="fullpost">
<br />
</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span id="fullpost"><b>First: Little Hiatus</b></span></blockquote>
<span id="fullpost">
<br />
Before I start writing next Season, Desperate Sims is going on another bit of a hiatus (again). I hope only for two or three weeks--mainly, I just need the time to get caught up on things. I haven't read many of the blogs I missed in my absence, not to mention the fact that I haven't started writing Season 8 out, yet! (And, you know me, I'm too OCD to start writing without a plan.)<br />
<br />
I do have a solid idea in mind of what's going to happen, but to get it organized in a solid time frame and have everything happen in a good chronological order, I gotta figure this all out. So, while I figure that out, DS will go silent for a bit longer.<br />
<br />
(Also, <b><a href="http://sweetlydipped.blogspot.com/">Dipped </a></b>will be getting back into the full swing of things as well, but as it is a long-term project alongside DS, it won't interrupt my ability to work on it.)<br />
<br />
This leads me to:<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span id="fullpost"><b>Second: Mini Projects!</b></span></blockquote>
<span id="fullpost">
<br />
As of right now, I have TWO mini projects now started, one of which most of you already know about!<br />
<br />
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Yep, that's right--<b>Yours Truly, Margo</b> has finally kicked off with it's first post. If you don't remember me talking about it in the past: YTM is essentially Margo's blog. It'll have numerous small posts documenting the 'little things' that happen in her life, from her point of view.<br />
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All the comments on it I will respond to in-character, so you can interact with her on a small level--and, certain posts will have a 'question' she'll ask that will act as a bit of a poll to help her make decisions. For example, the first post asks which club you think she should join! These choices will influence certain things about Desperate Sims, so *spoiler!* for example, her club choice will directly influence who she goes to the Prom with!<br />
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You can read YTM <a href="http://yourstrulymargo.blogspot.ca/">here on blogspot</a> or <a href="http://yourstrulymargo.tumblr.com/">here on tumblr</a>.</div>
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Some of you may be wondering where the heck Lilobot disappeared to between Part 2 and the Finale--and this sort of answers that question! (I say sort of because Lilobot spins some rather... extravagant tales.) It won't be something I'll work on for very long, since it's a rather short little mini project, but if you follow along you'll get to see why she almost missed Amelia's wedding.<br />
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<a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/19094807013/lilobots-happy-fun-time-adventures-part-1">The 'Master post' listing for all parts of Lil's story is here on tumblr.</a></div>
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<b>Third: Creations!</b></blockquote>
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With the release of Showtime, I've been doing some renovations on places around town so I actually have some stages to host performers. I only have one finished so far, but I did upload it to share!<br />
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<a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/19298605807/the-red-rendezvous-updated-for-late-night">Click Here for a Full-Tour and Download</a></div>
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Also, as a follower gift on Tumblr, I uploaded Lilobot for all those Lil-lovers out there--she has a few pieces of CC (hair and skin), but I think they're worth it if you want to keep her adorableness.<br />
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<a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/post/19360016760/love-lilobot-well-now-she-can-be-yours-too">Click Here for Download Link</a></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWTxteH4nLE/T2P8pZtowmI/AAAAAAAAX9A/rrCwt7mDehs/s1600/margianmixWITHTEXT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hWTxteH4nLE/T2P8pZtowmI/AAAAAAAAX9A/rrCwt7mDehs/s400/margianmixWITHTEXT.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Next Season has all sorts of drama headed its way between Margo and Ian, and as a bit of an emotional sample (plus a source of inspiration for me, since I love mixes!) I put together a playlist about their struggles and put it up on 8tracks. It's rather short (9 songs) so if you wanna take a quick listen to, feel free! You might get yourself an idea what's in store for the two if you do, though, so... be prepared.<br />
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<a href="http://8tracks.com/kaleeko/the-storm">Click Here for 8Tracks Link</a></div>
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<b>Fourth: Credits/Inspirations~!</b></blockquote>
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I guess credits are supposed to come AFTER a season is over, but I do wanna take a sec to quickly list and thank everyone who's contributed personalities and subplots that have helped round out Margo's life and give me a ton of inspiration for next Season, because you all deserve recognition NOW!:<br />
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<b><a href="http://ameliasims.blogspot.com/">Amelia/Sara</a></b>: Without her, Ian would not be possible. I went in a drastically different direction with Margo's future when that boy was born and we talked about the woes of another Evil sim entering the world. The Pesces alone have been amazing inspiration, but I will always, always see Ian as our lovechild. ♥<br />
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<b><a href="http://wowindianasam.blogspot.ca/p/current-family-biographies.html">PiB </a>& <a href="http://tenderwolf87.blogspot.ca/p/kenzie-howell.html">Tenderwolf</a></b>: Where would Margo be without her two best friends?! I really hope that Veronica and Kenzie get the opportunity to shine in the story, because reading about these two characters is what inspired me to decide Margo would even have friends at all. Her life would be very, very different without them!<br />
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<b><a href="http://thedrifter-jennifer.blogspot.ca/">Jennifer</a></b>: I've always adored Josh, but it was his chemistry with Natasha that really inspired me to run with the 'look but can't touch!' thing Margo has going on with him! He will always be the object of both of our affections! And you, bringing Margo into your story too?! Ach, I died and went to heaven!!<br />
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Last, but certainly not least:<br />
<b><a href="http://www.equus-sims.com/">Equus Sims</a></b>: Both Christina and Rachel, you guys have been AMAZING. Your dedication to Equus is what made me want Margo to love horses, which has steadily evolved into me now knowing how her ENTIRE life will pan out. You two have literally given me <i><b>so</b></i> much. I hope I can make all your hard work worth it! ♥<br />
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For now, I guess that's it! I really am so glad to be back and writing again--it's one of the purest joys in my life, and having such amazing people to share it with just makes it all the better. You guys are truly awesome. Don't you forget it!<br />
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But, because I'm SURE some of you wanted to see at least SOME out-take action...<br />
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Dusty, trying to eat Margo's head...<br />
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Brad, looking particularly mad.<br />
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Lilobot and Spot. AWWWWW.<br />
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Margo, looking as if she wants to get into Ian's pants. O.o<br />
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It's a bird, it's a plane--no, it's Super Brad!<br />
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Not really an outtake but I dunno how I'm gonna be patient enough to wait for this beauty to enter the story. T_T<br />
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Korva, acting out that I didn't include her in the story more. XD I think neon green hair is a good look for you, Brad.<br />
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... and here's everyone's real reaction to Lilobot showing up to the wedding.<br />
Whoops. XD<br />
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Cheers~!
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-79381705011758185322012-03-13T14:08:00.000-07:002012-03-13T14:17:29.499-07:00Better Late Than Never"Where is she?!"<br />
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"Could you please stop asking me? I honestly have <i>no</i> idea."<br />
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"Well--she's going to be late if she doesn't show up soon."<br />
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"If she is it won't be my fault, so, could you <i>please </i>stop nagging me about it?"<br />
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Twinbrook didn't have many days quite like this one, but as if nature had decided to give the family a well deserved break, the gloom that normally hovered over the town was no where in sight today. Instead, real sunshine glittered through the cracks in the lattice above them, making everyone beneath feel, for a moment, they were somewhere far away from here.<br />
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Nature could not have picked a better day.<br />
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"Well, I just--" Alesha began again, but when she stopped to listen to herself, she quickly shut her mouth. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, Brad. I'm just worried about her--I know she said she was taking a little bit of a vacation, but I figured she'd at least be back in time for the ceremony!"<br />
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"Give her a break, will you? Lil's never really left town on her own before, and it's about time she started making use of her freedom. If she misses the wedding she misses the wedding--won't be the end of the world."<br />
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"Don't you say that, Brad!" Alesha shook her head violently, throwing up her hands in protest. "Amelia would be heartbroken!"<br />
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"Oh come on, she'd understand!" Brad sighed. "Lil's needed to get out and see the world for years--"<br />
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"No. She better be here. If she's not, you're taking <i>full</i> responsibility."<br />
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"Yeah yeah, whatever," Brad groaned, leaning back into his seat.<br />
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Truth be told, Amelia and Naomi would probably survive if Lil didn't make it, but Alesha wanted everything to be perfect for her two best friends--and she had already gone to painstaking lengths to make sure of it.<br />
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Alesha remembered that Amelia had dreamed of a huge, decadent wedding since she was old enough to dress dolls in white dresses. But with how everything had gone recently, Naomi and Mia had decided to focus on a smaller, more intimate affair. They wanted it done quickly and quietly--no muss, no fuss. Alesha still felt like Amelia deserved more, though.<br />
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Alesha truly had nothing to worry about, though.<br />
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Amelia had done many shows in her life, and living happily in the spotlight all the while--but today, being the center of attention felt awkward. As much as it would have mortified her 10-year-old self, Amelia was starting to regret that she didn't just run away and elope.<br />
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She didn't care about the show, the ceremony, the cake, or the dress. She just wanted to be Mrs. Amelia Leman-Kane--the "how" didn't really matter to her anymore.<br />
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A sudden bump on her arm woke her from her thoughts.<br />
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"Are you ready, sweetheart?"<br />
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Amelia looked to her left and smiled. Though she and her father had had their fair share of disagreements in her lifetime, they had never been closer then after the ordeal Amelia went through. After everything that had happened, having Jebidiah by her side on her wedding day was certainly not something she took for granted.<br />
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"I think so," she responded with a weary smile, threading her arm through his.<br />
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Somewhere Amelia couldn't see, soft music began to play.<br />
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Taking it as her cue, Margo skipped into place and started trotting down the 'aisle', giving Meredith very little time to get in place for pictures. Both Amelia and her father chuckled at the sudden scurry of movement down the aisle.<br />
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"You know, if you want, I can call the driver and he'll whisk us away, and dodge you out of all this marriage nonsense--"<br />
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"Daddy," Amelia laughed. "You gotta give me up sometime."<br />
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"Well... I suppose, if you insist--now's as good a time as any," Jebidiah spoke with a sigh. "... As long as you're <i>sure."</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
"Never been so sure as anything in my life."<br />
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As much as it pained Jeb--as it would any father--he squeezed Amelia's hand tight in his and began to walk, guiding her on the first steps towards her new life.<br />
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<b><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q0u_1MAygU0">-> Music! Yes, MUSIC!! Engage! <-</a></b></div>
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<br />
A voice suddenly broke the trance of everyone in the garden.<br />
<br />
"Hey guys," was heard coming from the end of the aisle, from a girl who waved her arms wildly in order to be noticed. It took Amelia a few moments and blinks to see what stood there, but once she did, her eyes grew wide. "Oh bother... Did I miss it?!"<br />
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Amelia stood and stared. She didn't recognize the girl at first, but there was something oddly familiar about her. The voice... the cheerful tone... the childish giggle that only came from one person--one robot--she knew.<br />
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"L... <i>Lilobot?</i> Is that <i>you</i>?"<br />
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A torrent of whispers flooded over the small crowd--but for the first time, having everyone's eyes trained onto her didn't frighten her. Lilobot was ready to shine!<br />
<br />
"The one and only," she said, beaming so brightly that even in her shock, Amelia couldn't help smiling back.<br />
<br />
"You're a little late," Alesha called from somewhere amidst the bobbing heads, causing everyone around her (especially those that had heard her previous nagging) to begin chuckling themselves.<br />
<br />
"Better late than never, though, right?" she said with a girly laugh, bobbing up onto her toes.<br />
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<br />
A well of joy suddenly overflowed inside of Amelia.<br />
<br />
Though everything about today made it the happiest day of her life, something about Lilobot's words struck her. All the hurt and regret she'd suffered from being removed from her life for so long had now flowed away, leaving behind only the peace she'd longed for--everything else no longer mattered. The words of a happy simbot reminded Amelia to cherish what she finally had.<br />
<br />
"Yeah," she said with a smile, her hand entwined with Naomi's. "You're right, Lil. <i>Better late than never</i>."Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-89012234364040265022012-03-09T13:53:00.000-08:002012-03-13T14:17:09.854-07:00Transfiguration: Part Two<i>You can do this, Amelia.</i><br />
<br />
She tried to tell herself, tried to make each glance backwards give her the ounce of hope she needed, but somehow, all it did was grind the anxious feeling deeper into her stomach.<br />
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<br />
Not 20 feet in front of her, a promise of a cure stood waiting. Amelia could feel the machine humming through the soles of her feet, but that shiny ray of hope she'd been waiting for for countless months was not enough to keep her eyes away from Naomi's gaze. Naomi had always been her rock, the strong one she could cling to no matter what stood in their way--but today, even Naomi's face was shrouded with worry.<br />
<br />
It wasn't that Amelia wasn't excited about the prospect of finally having freedom. It was the prospect of what would happen should this fail.<br />
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<br />
Behind the glass, Moe was troubled with some worries of his own.<br />
<br />
"Brad, this is dangerous... you're still weak, you should be resting. Is there no way I can talk you into--"<br />
<br />
"Drop it, Moe," Brad said with a groan. "For the last time, I feel <i>fine</i>. Besides, I'm not trusting my sister's safety to anyone else. I'm the only one who knows what they're doing--you <i>need</i> me here."<br />
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<br />
Overhearing their conversation wasn't doing anything for Naomi's nerves.<br />
<br />
Even though Naomi knew it would probably be fruitless, she had to say something. "Do you think she's going to be alright?" she turned and asked Alesha, biting her lower lip.<br />
<br />
Alesha, unsure of what else to say but the truth, responded with a soft, "I really don't know... but if you can trust anyone to do this right, it's Brad." She lifted her hand and rested it gently on Naomi's shoulder. "And if Amelia's certain she wants to do this, then I guess we just have to have faith it'll work."<br />
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<br />
In reality, Amelia <i>wasn't</i> sure whether she wanted to do this, but at the back of her mind one thought kept haunting her: <i>if she had to choose between spending the rest of her life in prison, or risk her life for a chance to be with Naomi again, there </i><b>was</b><i><b> </b>no choice.</i><br />
<br />
There was a soft tap on the glass behind them--a moment later, a gruff voice behind her announced, "It's time."<br />
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<br />
She steadied herself, then took her first foot forward. Breathe in. Step. Breathe out. Step.<br />
<br />
<i>I can do this,</i> she told herself in her mind.<br />
<i>I can do this.</i><br />
<i>I </i><b><i>can</i> </b><i>do this.</i><br />
"I can do this!!"<br />
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<br />
"Are you <i>sure</i> you want to do this?"<br />
<br />
Lamont looked at Lilobot through the corner of his eye, but she was so distracted that she didn't even hear him. "She's <i>beautiful," </i>Lilobot said, almost giggling in her delight. "Or... I guess, <i>I'm</i> beautiful!"<br />
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<br />
"Yeah, but--Lil, you're <i>already</i> beautiful... In a different way, yeah, but--"<br />
<br />
"You cannot talk me out of it, Lamont." Lilobot turned to look at him, adamantly shaking her head every time he gave her a pleading glance. "I <i>need</i> this. There is no way you could know how much unless you were me."<br />
<br />
"I know, Lil, it's just..." Lamont looked through window on the door, then back at the simbot--the <i>girl</i>--in front of him. "Even if this works, there's a huge likelihood that a lot of information will be lost in the transfer. You could lose your memories, pieces of who you are..."<br />
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<br />
Lilobot shook her head again. If she was anything, she was stubborn. "I do not care. You cannot see it, Lamont, but I am already losing who I am in my unhappiness. I would trade all my memories for a chance to start over."<br />
<br />
"B--"<br />
<br />
"And there is nothing you can say to convince me otherwise. This is my choice. You respect that, right?"<br />
<br />
"I... yes." Lamont sighed, then reluctantly leaned to his right and pushed the heavy metal door open for both of them. "After you."<br />
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<br />
Lilobot stood as stoic as an oak tree as Lamont connected the cables to her circuitry. "It is funny," she said cheerfully as she looked at the lifeless body laying on the table in front of her. "I always wanted hair like that."<br />
<br />
"I know," Lamont chuckled as he walked away. "That's why I gave her that color. You wouldn't shut up about mine."<br />
<br />
He let Lilobot get out her giggles before he raised his hands to the dials, sending her one last pleading glance before it was too late. "You... ready?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah," Lilobot said, feeling the brows of her metal face wiggle for the last time. "Let's do this."<br />
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"This is <i>such</i> a bad idea," Margo whimpered.<br />
<br />
The face in the mirror looked like a fake copy of herself, and she didn't like it much. Before her parents had gone out for the night, Margo convinced her mom to do up her hair and makeup for a 'tea party' with Pixie and company. Her mother had the best intentions, but Margo couldn't help but feel the look she'd been going for was lost somewhere underneath the pound of blush and hairspray.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, her mother didn't know the <i>real</i> reason Margo needed to look pretty tonight. Maybe she'd have tried harder if she had--but it was too late.<br />
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<br />
She was already running out of time.<br />
<br />
"They're starting already?!" Margo gasped as she heard the loud snap of fireworks outside her window. As the light from it sparkled across the sky, she quickly dashed out of the bathroom, whisking herself outside to her bike so fast that everything seemed to blur together the moment she stepped foot on Twinbrook's beach.<br />
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<br />
Every year, the Twinbrook Society for Unnecessary Celebration put together an annual fireworks show to try to liven up the town, and this year was no exception. Usually it meant that every public place was jam-packed with people, but a little bird (aka, Kenzie) had discovered that this year, the Pesce family was holding a massive barbeque on their lake-front property.<br />
<br />
This meant two things: 1) most of the town would be drawn to the free food, leaving everywhere else nice and empty, and 2) Ian Pesce would be doing anything possible to not be home that night.<br />
<br />
It was so perfect an opportunity, even Margo had the courage to do something about it.<br />
<br />
She didn't have to walk more than two steps down the stairs to spot him. "I-Ian?"<br />
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<br />
Ian turned at the sound of her voice; his face fell instantly. "Ugh, really? It was <i>you</i> that sent me that note?"<br />
<br />
"I... Yeah. I'm sorry, I just--I didn't know how else to get you here."<br />
<br />
Ian rolled his eyes. "That was pretty low--<i>especially</i> for you." However, something about that intrigued him. A <i>lot</i>. So, instead of following his gut reaction and walking away, he turned about and asked, "So, what do you want?"<br />
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<br />
Margo took a deep breath. "I..." Gulp. She'd rehearsed this a dozen times this morning, and even more in her head as her mother had tweaked and tossled her hair, but all the words suddenly fell flat when she saw that annoyed snivel--oh, that snivel!--on his face mere feet away from her.<br />
<br />
"Spit it out already," he groaned, toeing the sand with his boot.<br />
<br />
"Ihavesomethingtogiveyou," she gasped, heaving in a breath quickly after she realized the words had practically vomitted from her mouth.<br />
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<br />
"Oh, and you actually think I'm gonna take it? After how you reacted when <i>I</i> tried to give <i>you</i> something?" Ian looked up and away, pursing his lips together in anger. "You're <i>mental</i>."<br />
<br />
"Just--just gimme a chance, Ian? I..." Margo walked closer and closer, her body awkwardly fumbling to each side as she waddled across the sand to him. "I know I'm not perffick, and I'm... I'm really really sorry."<br />
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<br />
Ian's eyes suddenly turned back towards her. "You're sorry," he responded with annoyance.<br />
<br />
"Yeah. I'm sorry. I mean... I even got all pretty tonight, just for you." She lowered her hands to flatten out the creases in her dress.<br />
<br />
"Really? You look like a--" Ian stopped himself; even he knew that that was going too far.<br />
<br />
Still... when he looked into her eyes, the sincerity in them melted away his preconceptions. She wasn't perfect, no--but there was something about her that wouldn't let him be cruel. "You look... good."<br />
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"You think so? I thought it might be too much--"</div>
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"No, it's fine--"</div>
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"I mean, I just wanted to--"</div>
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Margo froze. She felt so... <i>odd.</i> Even being close to Josh, in all his cuteness and sweetness and hair-flipping goodness had never felt like this--and it felt right. Even Ian, staring at the reflection of fireworks dancing across Margo's eyes, felt something he never had before.</div>
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But as quickly as that spark came to life, it was shot down.</div>
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<br />
"Ewww, they're kissing!"<br />
<br />
"No we weren't, retards," Ian growled as he spotted the source of the voice, but it took Margo a moment longer to realize who he was talking to. She wheeled around so fast, she almost toppled over onto the sand.<br />
<br />
Even Ian's retort couldn't save her from total embarassment. "Oh no," she whispered, horrified.<br />
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<br />
The de Wynters. Not one--not two--<i>four</i> of them. With how often Daisy herself harassed her, Margo tended to forget that she was only one of several: two sets of twins that <i>all</i> hated her existence. She'd never seen them all in one place before, though. And before, they had only scared her. Now, they <i>terrified</i> her.<br />
<br />
"Whatever--doesn't matter," the meanest--Jackson--snapped back at Ian as Margo began to stumble back behind him. "Just get outta here. We don't got issues with you--we just want <i>her.</i>"<br />
<br />
"Why?"<br />
<br />
"Why's it matter? We're just here to give her what's been coming to her--but if you <i>really</i> wanna prove you weren't kissin' her, you're welcome to join in."<br />
<br />
"I don't give a rat's butt what you think, Jackson. Leave her alone!"<br />
<br />
"Fine then, <i>loser!</i> Guess we'll just have to deal with you, too!"<br />
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<br />
They'd done it, now. Ian could feel the fury glazing over his eyes as he pushed his sleeves up even further, readying himself for the inevitable that was coming.<br />
<br />
He had a choice: he could back off, walk away, and let them have what they want. But today, there was something more important than what he wanted. Skating by wasn't enough, anymore. Not when Margo was willing to be brave for <i>him.</i> "Oh, you are <i>so</i> freaking dead!"<br />
<br />
The four of them suddenly started to have second thoughts. Jackson began, "Wait, you don't have to--"<br />
<br />
"Oh yes I do! You asked for it, spitwad--get ready to <i>die</i>!"<br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZHuTxNIpdeM#t=1m03s">Montage Music</a></span> <- <i>Clicky</i></b></div>
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<br />
"Mia--Mia... You're--"<br />
<br />
The words became lost in her throat. Naomi searched Amelia's face for one sign that this was somehow not real, but it was--her eyes were their normal lavender hue, her smile had no tell of fangs, and her skin was rosey and alive again. Besides the orange jumpsuit, everything about Amelia was back to how it had been years before. Perfect, and beautiful.<br />
<br />
"I was so afraid I'd lost you," Naomi gasped as she held Amelia even tighter, her arms shaking.<br />
<br />
"You never did, Naomi," Mia smiled, burying her tears in her lover's shoulder. "But... I think I'm ready to come home."<br />
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<br />
Everything had changed.<br />
<br />
She knew it wasn't real--not as real as it was for humans--but everything sure <i>seemed</i> real. The way the air tasted in her mouth, the way the table felt cold under her skin. Her <i>skin</i>.<br />
<br />
Lamont, still awestruck that he'd done something right for once, simply watched in silence as Lilobot 2.0 stood from the table and looked around the room--and saw herself. Her <i>old</i> self.<br />
<br />
"You were good to me," she said lightly to the husk, the thing that was her but now not-her. "But do not hold it against me that I will not miss you." She touched it, feeling for the first time how others had felt her. She smiled, knowing that no one would see this way ever again.<br />
<br />
"It is... It's... time, for my <i>real</i> life to begin."<br />
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<br />
"They're--they're all--you--"<br />
<br />
Ian clapped his hands together, as if wiping them clean of what he'd just done. Behind him, three de Wynter children laid defeated--all but Whitney, who had cowardly run off at the first sign of trouble. Margo occasionally heard the others groan, but they did not move. They weren't dead as Ian had threatened, but they certainly seemed like it.<br />
<br />
"They're taken care of," Ian said triumphantly, even kicking a little sand in Daisy's face for good measure. "That'll teach 'em to leave you alone!"<br />
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<br />
Ian walked closer, but as he did, Margo flinched away. His face quickly fell; he reached out to her, but he <i>really</i> knew something was wrong when she moved away yet again.<br />
<br />
"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely confused.<br />
<br />
"You--you hurt <i>all</i> of them because of me."<br />
<br />
"So?"<br />
<br />
"I... I didn't want anyone to get hurt--and I didn't... I didn't know you could... you hurt them <i>really bad</i>, Ian."<br />
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<br />
Ian was at a loss--he didn't understand. Why was she saying this?! He defended her! Wasn't she always rambling on about a white knight coming to her rescue? Didn't she realize that that's what knights did--hurt people? "I thought that's what you wanted, Margo. I thought you wanted them to leave you alone."<br />
<br />
"I... I..." Margo gulped. Yes, it was--but it wasn't until she saw it right before her eyes that she knew just how wrong it was. She didn't know, until now, just how strong Ian was. Whatever he could do to them, he could do to her.<br />
<br />
She had never been more horrified in her life.<br />
<br />
"You're... a monster..." she whispered softly, sending a chill up both their spines.<br />
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<br />
"Wait! MARGO, WAIT!!" Ian took a few steps after her, but it was clear that this time, she wanted nothing less than for him to follow her--and at the speed she ran, there was no way he'd catch her, anyways.<br />
<br />
"Margo..."<br />
<br />
His gaze fell to the slightly stirring kids laying on the ground. As he looked at them, he saw something that wasn't there before; a letter. <i>Must've fell out of her pocket,</i> he grumbled to himself as he picked it up off the ground.<br />
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<br />
His opening of the letter was unceremonious and angry, almost tearing the letter in half in his haste to get it out. When he finally held it open in his hands, he read it again... and again... and again, in disbelief.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b>Dear Ian--<br />I know you might not like me anymore, but I really wanted you to know that no matter what, I will always like you. I might not show it very well, but it's only because I'm scared. I'm trying to change, though. I want to change, because of you. If I can change and be more brave, I know that somewhere deep inside you can change for the better, too. You won't have to do much, because all the pieces are already there. Everyone else can't see it, but I can. I <i>know </i>you're already a good person. I believe in you.</b><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><b>Sincerely,</b></b></div>
<b>
</b><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><b>Margo May</b></b></div>
<b>
</b></blockquote>
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<br />
Anger swelled within him. Before he knew what he was doing, the note was already in shreds and falling in pieces to the sand.<br />
<br />
Above him, the fireworks resumed, unfettered by what had happened on the beach that night. Every pop and sizzle stung deeper and deeper inside Ian's chest, until all that was left was hatred. At the de Wynters, for managing to ruin everything in their path. At Margo, for so quickly dismissing what he'd done for her. At Mrs. Kane, for all the promises she'd made, now broken. But they all paled in comparison to the hatred for himself.<br />
<br />
He couldn't escape it: everything he did, failed. Every faith and hope others put in him had so far been wasted and pointless. Before, they had done everything they could do to tell him he was wrong, but now? Now, he had proof. Everything he touched ends up broken.<br />
<br />
Margo had faith that he could change: but whether that change would be for better or worse, now, only time would tell.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-49761262207666588612012-01-18T14:40:00.000-08:002012-03-13T14:17:49.356-07:00Transfiguration: Part One<br />
When the side door of the house opened, a small gust of wind escaped into the warm enclosure of the room and sent unexpected movement along its path. A log croaked and snapped in the fireplace, a dustbunny was whisked across the hardwood floor, and several pages of the book Alesha held open in her hands fluttered backwards, sending her deeper within the story.<br />
<br />
She didn't look up; she could hear the sound of the footsteps and the heavy breathing of the entrant. Alesha didn't need to see to know who it was.<br />
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<br />
Without act of surprise, she lifted a hand and flattened out the turned pages of her book. "It's about time you came back," Alesha spoke with an edge of bitterness in her voice. "I was beginning to think you forgot you even had a family up here."<br />
<br />
She waited for a response, but it was some time before one finally came. "Alesha." Bradley's voice was hoarse, and almost sounded like it was not his own. "I know you're angry, but right now, you need to help me."<br />
<br />
Alesha finally lifted her eyes from the pages of her book, but what she saw she could have never been prepared for.<br />
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"BRAD!" Alesha sprung backwards in fear the moment her brain registered what she was seeing. She had called his name, but what she saw did not look like her husband.<br />
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Over the years, Alesha had seen all manner of strange things walk through her door: the first artificially intelligent being, a kidnapper with her daughter in their arms, a grown man dressed as a neandrethal, but this... it was impossible. It had to be impossible.<br />
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<br />
As if in mocking echo, Brad's response began, "Alesha."<br />
<br />
It took a moment for him to catch his breath. His lungs, he imagined, were turning just as green as his skin was. His hair. His eyes... They all felt as if they were burning, but none so much as his eyes, which made him wince in pain every time he had to blink. He did not know that they were aglow, but if he did, he would not have been surprised; everything he saw was tinged with emerald. With tiberium.<br />
<br />
"Alesha, please," he said again, sourly, as if losing his patience. "I need you to stay calm. This is not the time for panic."<br />
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<br />
Alesha slowly nodded, but she couldn't help feeling as if that was some kind of joke. This seemed like the perfect time to panic.<br />
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"What... what happened to you?" She managed to ask after swallowing the frog in her throat.<br />
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"That's not important, right now," Brad said with a weak shake of his head. "What's important is that you do exactly as I tell you. Can you do that for me?"<br />
<br />
As she nodded, Bradley continued. "There is a syringe in the bathroom, looks like an Epi-Pen but with a... a big..." He wheezed. "Big yellow sticker on it. Use it."<br />
<br />
"... On myself?" Alesha stuttered.<br />
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"Yes. On yourself. Then I need you to call..." He swallowed, heaved his lungs again, but every breath felt empty to his chest. "To call..."<br />
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<br />
His sentence left unfinished, Brad's body slowly began to descend, tumbling forward like a defeated tree leaning towards the ground.<br />
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"BRAD!" Alesha screamed again, this time flinging herself forwards rather than back; her book was tossed to the unknown as she dived to him, barely able to support her husband's body before his knees thudded heavily onto the floor.<br />
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<br />
"Stay with me," she murmured softly as she embraced her arms around her husband. "I-it's going to be okay," she voiced from some deep desire for it to be true.<br />
<br />
With what strength he had left, Brad's arms lifted and held her tighter, squeezing the warmth of her body to him as he could feel his own warmth leaving him. His fingers found her hair. He gently smoothed through it.<br />
<br />
Brad weakly placed his lips behind her ear, and uttered a small whisper towards the nape of her neck. She felt a shiver down her spine as he said, softly, "I'm sorry."<br />
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<br />
She had to let the weight of him slip through her palms and onto the floor. There was no energy left between them to keep him from falling, now.<br />
<br />
"Brad... B-brad..."<br />
<br />
Silence.<br />
<br />
"BRAD!"<br />
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Beep.<br />
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Beep.<br />
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Alesha could hear the sound of Bradley's heartbeat through the glass windowpane of his room, but she feared that at any moment, it would cease.<br />
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<br />
It had taken them til dawn, but Brad's complexion was finally restored--if still a bit pale for Alesha's tastes. The rest of him still showed no change, though. Aside from being able to draw breath on his own again, he laid as motionless as stone in his bed.<br />
<br />
And still no word if he would ever move from it, again.<br />
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<br />
"You really should go home and get some rest."<br />
<br />
Alesha felt Moe's hand on her shoulder, but it brought her no comfort--only a heavy push back into reality. "I'm not leaving until he wakes up," she finally responded with a shudder. "He needs me here."<br />
<br />
Moe frowned. "The girls need you too, Alesha."<br />
<br />
"Lil can watch them just fine," she muttered between the heavy nail-biting on her teeth. "Besides... I don't even know what to tell them. What's going on, Moe?"<br />
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<br />
Before he responded, Moe gently guided Alesha where she could no longer fixate her gaze on Brad's heart monitor.<br />
<br />
"Alesha--" He sighed. "Brad was infected with incredibly high levels of Tiberium. We've managed to purge a great deal of it from his system, but we won't know for certain if we got all of it for at least a week." When Alesha bit her lip and looked away, he continued, "The good news is, your blood tests came back negative--you weren't exposed long enough to Brad to get infected."<br />
<br />
Alesha shook her head. "No, I think I was. Before he collapsed, he made me take some sort of... vaccine, I guess."<br />
<br />
Moe's face was riddled with shock, but then, understanding. "Well, that explains a lot."<br />
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"What do you mean?" Alesha asked, still completely confused.<br />
<br />
"The syringe--it's a blocker of sorts. A bit of a safeguard against tiberium, we all got one at the start of the project, so that we could handle the material safely--I guess he never took his."<br />
<br />
"But all those tests you ran when he first started getting sick--how did you miss he was infected?"<br />
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"Knowing Brad?" Moe scoffed, rolling his eyes. "He probably faked his results somehow."<br />
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"But... but why would he do that?!" Alesha's fear was slowly turning to anger, again. "Why would he intentionally let himself get sick like this?!"<br />
<br />
Moe slowly shook his head. "We don't fully understand the properties of Tiberium, yet, but the way it interacts with the body is... incredible. Over time, it reproduces and consumes all organic matter, but early on it enhances both mental and physical faculties by... unmeasurably large degrees."<br />
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"So you're saying... he let himself get sick so he could get smarter?" Alesha's brows furrowed together tightly. "That's it?"<br />
<br />
"Not just a little smarter, Alesha. You have to understand--" Moe took a deep breath. "The further we got towards developing Amelia's cure, the more we realized it would take the better part of our careers to finish it. That's part of why most of us didn't go back to help him, after he blew up at us--it seemed like a fool's errand, and none of us wanted to risk our careers on it. But... What would have taken us 20 years, Brad did in one year. One, Alesha."<br />
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<br />
They stood quietly before each other as Alesha digested this information. It slowly began to make sense--why Brad would let no one near him, why he exiled himself to his laboratory for months. It was logical, for Brad. Why, then, did she still feel so angry?<br />
<br />
"But what about him?" she finally asked, feeling her eyes begin to sting and blur. "Does -he- get a cure, too?"<br />
<br />
"Alesha..."<br />
<br />
"I have the right to know."<br />
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"You have to understand, Tiberium isn't a disease or a virus--it can't be killed or 'cured'. We can filter his blood, we can remove any build-up, we can prevent it from reproducing... But the damage is already done. His immune system is... damaged, beyond repair. That's something that no one can fix."<br />
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<br />
Alesha breathed deeply, staying strong and reserved despite the walls around her crashing down. "Are you saying he's going to die?"<br />
<br />
"Everyone dies, someday," he offered, little hope in his voice. "Whether in a few days, a few weeks, months, years--I don't know. We'll do the best we can... that's all I can guarantee."<br />
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Alesha's eyes slowly closed. Even she had too much pride to let Moe see her collapse into sobs, but it took every ounce of courage she had to stay on her feet. She was already dying, inside.<br />
<br />
"Can I go in and see him?" she asked weakly.<br />
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Moe slowly nodded. "Make sure you sterilize your hands and such before contact, but--yes. He should be strong enough, now."<br />
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<br />
She had to prepare herself--both physically and emotionally. The strange, clean tingle of her hands was nothing compared to heavy beating in her chest. The silent, cold weeping of her heart.<br />
<br />
Alesha settled onto the edge of the bed; he stirred a little, but not enough to wake. 'Good,' she thought to herself. She wasn't sure what she would do if he opened his eyes and faced her, right now.<br />
<br />
"How is it fair, to give up your health, your life, so your sister can have hers back a little sooner?" The words felt good to say aloud, though no one could hear them. "How does that make sense, Brad?!"<br />
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<br />
Beep. Beep. Beep. His only response. She wanted desperately for him to give her some reason that didn't hurt--one that didn't distort what he'd done into some sort of noble sacrifice, because he didn't deserve that. She wanted a reason she could unashamedly give to her children to explain why their father would never be well again. A reason that wouldn't leave her a widow before she deserved.<br />
<br />
She had never felt more selfish in her entire life--and for the first time, she didn't care.<br />
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It was the one thing she had ever wanted this much. The one thing she would never get.<br />
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"Fine time for you to take a nap," came a voice heavy with disapproval from the corner of the room.<br />
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Bradley snapped upwards--as quickly as he could, anyways. His gaze looked to the corner, then looked away. "What are you doing here," he growled, turning away to hide the sudden shame in his face.<br />
<br />
"Doing what I do best, of course--making you uncomfortable."<br />
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<br />
Bradley stole another quick glance at the corner, but the more he looked at the placid, emotionless face of his father, the more he was tempted to hurl himself out the window and avoid the inevitable conversation that was coming.<br />
<br />
"Where's Alesha?" he finally asked, dragging his legs to the edge of the bed and letting them dangle down. Escape probably wouldn't happen, he could barely move his feet.<br />
<br />
"I made the doctor slip her something to sleep. She's done nothing but sit here for days--I do fear she'll be quite angry with me for not letting her be here when you woke up, but it was necessary. We need to talk."<br />
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<br />
Brad's face soured even further. "I have nothing to say to you."<br />
<br />
"You've made that apparent." Jebidiah carefully closed his book, setting it on the endtable as he made his way to the empty spot on the bed next to his son. Brad cringed, but there was nothing he could do to stop him. "You know--I can't help but feel that I am partially responsible for this."<br />
<br />
Brad let out a subtle laugh. "Oh? How?"<br />
<br />
"I knew this would happen, sooner or later. Your pride... Your work. It always meant more to you than anything else--and I knew this, because it is a mistake I have made countless, countless times." Jeb frowned deeper as Brad continued to look away. "Your mother always said, you were more like me than you'd want to admit."<br />
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<br />
"So?"<br />
<br />
"So--I should not have let that stand in my way. The same reason we've never been able to stand each other, is the same reason I have always found more pride in you than anyone else--I wanted you to be like me, to succeed. But instead... I should have told you that there were things that were more important. And for that--Bradley, I am truly sorry."<br />
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Finally, Brad twisted his head around to look his father in the eye.<br />
<br />
"You were doing what you thought was right," Jeb finished. "But it was not worth this."<br />
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<br />
"I... I--I know."<br />
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Bradley stood--or rather, stumbled--up from the bed. He did not want Jebidiah to see his face, but that was impossible. Jeb knew exactly what was in his son's eyes. "It made so much sense, in the beginning--but it went too far," Brad said with a stiff shake of his head. "I thought I had control, but I didn't... and now, I--"<br />
<br />
"You don't have to finish. I understand." It wasn't in Jeb's nature to be comforting, but seeing his son in the position he himself had been in so many times--although, admittedly, not quite this bad--he reached out a hand to steady him.<br />
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<br />
"I'm not sure you do," Brad responded slowly, looking up at his father wearily. "No offense to Mom, but you were her life, she couldn't live without you, no matter what kinds of things you'd done. Alesha... I don't think she'll ever forgive me for this."<br />
<br />
"You don't give your wife enough credit--she has forgiven a great deal of things in her life."<br />
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<br />
"Endangering my life without even telling her? I--I'll be surprised if she ever speaks to me again," Brad choked, shielding his face as he again turned away, limping feebly towards the other side of the room. "I may as well lock the door so she can't come back."<br />
<br />
"Don't you dare, Bradley. Don't you dare run away from this. She is your wife--she deserves better than that. You've already done enough, don't make this worse."<br />
<br />
"What else am I supposed to do? How do I face her... how do I face my kids?"<br />
<br />
"The same way I faced your mother, the same way I faced you, and Travis, and Amelia--with the truth. You feel miserable? You should! Let them see it! What else do you have to lose? Your pride? Trust me--it's only a matter of time before you realize that's already gone, as well."<br />
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<br />
"I--"<br />
<br />
"Say nothing else." Jebidiah reached his hand out to place on his son's shoulder.<br />
<br />
It was frail, but that touch was more than he'd recieved from any of his children in so long that even the Mighty Kane could feel a twinge in the corner of his eye. "Be strong. Your family needs you, now. -All- of us."<br />
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Bradley fell fast into his father's arms. He could not recall the last time he had hugged his father--if ever, to be honest--but he had never wanted, or needed, comfort from him until now.<br />
<br />
He began to cry, but in their sadness was still some sweetness. Between them, they had finally found, at the very least, a seed of forgiveness.<br />
<br />
They were finally father and son, again.<br />
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<blockquote>
<b>Notes--</b><br />As you might have noticed, I sort of fell off the face of the planet for a few weeks. This post was written for quite a while, but I've been hesitant to post it for... obvious reasons, probably. Not only is the nature of what happened to Brad a bit complicated and likely a little confusing (I tried to adapt it from what the original Command & Conquer tiberium's effects are), it's probably not what many of you were expecting. This was fairly difficult for me to write, and very important to me, so putting it out there isn't easy.<br /><br>Now, about my absence: I mentioned briefly that I was picking up SWTOR, and between my unnatural ability to become addicted to MMOs and some very rough patches, I haven't had much desire to be on the computer. I'm going to kick myself into gear and get caught up on the blogs I should have a long, long time ago, but don't expect to see me around much beyond that for a while. I'm not in a good place right now, and no one wants a cranky Kaleeko, lol.<br /><br>Love you guys, hope this doesn't break too many hearts. <3</blockquote>
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-48935483895201023482012-01-02T16:12:00.000-08:002012-03-13T14:17:49.351-07:00The Brave ChangeThe lab was silent--all but the sound of the wrench twisting against her neck, a noisy endeavor that felt strange to Lilobot. Strange, because she couldn't feel it at all. She had never known anything else, true, but the fact that her lack of sensation felt alien to her was the very reason she was here in the first place.<br />
<br />
Although she couldn't see what Lamont was doing to her, Lilobot sat as still as she could, knowing one slight movement could interfere with his work; one mistake could leave her completely unable to move, or even brain dead. Although it was not what he was trying to do, recently, Lil had often wished for that very thing to happen. Hopefully, this would change all that.<br />
<br />
"How much longer?" she asked, trying not to sound impatient.<br />
<br />
She couldn't see, but Lamont scrunched his nose as he tried to calculate the answer. "Eerr... Probably 15 minutes? Brad got your neural net incredibly well protected, but I think I found a good access point--all I have to do is install the port, seal it up, and--"<br />
<br />
"You do not have to go in detail, I understand what you are doing."<br />
<br />
"Ah."<br />
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The next few minutes passed silently, but as her attention drifted away from Lamont, Lilobot began to see her surroundings... differently. "It is... odd."<br />
<br />
"What is?"<br />
<br />
"This place. I have recollection of it, though no real memory of being here. Why is that?"<br />
<br />
"Really?" Lamont raised his eyebrow in query. "Huh! I'd wager, it's because Brad used to bring you here occasionally during your construction, to get some advice from the rest of us. All kinds of robotic prototypes make their way here eventually--you're just the only one who... you know."<br />
<br />
"Achieved a state of self awareness."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, that."<br />
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"Does that make me special, then?" Lilobot asked with a particularly soft, fragile lull in her voice.<br />
<br />
Lamont smiled at the back of Lil's head. "Yeah, it does. All of us had been trying to create AI for years, but... Brad's got a gift. Nothing stops him, when he wants something bad enough, and he wanted you--or, I guess, the <i>idea</i> of you--as part of his family. I think that's the difference, between the rest of us and him. We only look at the goal... He looks beyond it."<br />
<br />
"I do not know--you must be quite intelligent, to be able to do this for me."<br />
<br />
"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Lil," Lamont chuckled. "We haven't even found out if it <i>will</i> work, yet."<br />
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"But," Lamont said with a long yawn after setting his tools down on the floor. "I think that's about it. The connection port is all set up, just don't fiddle with it and it should be fine for next week."<br />
<br />
Lil nodded as she carefully stood from the stool. "Of course."<br />
<br />
"Also... make sure Brad doesn't see it, alright?" Lamont let out a nervous laugh as he turned back and looked at Lil over his shoulder. "I don't want him knowing I went behind his back, he'd never let me finish."<br />
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This time, Lil let out a small giggle. "Don't worry, I won't let him find out. I want this to be a surprise, for everyone."<br />
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Lamont's lips turned up in a surprised grin, but it quickly faded once he realized the mess he'd made in the lab. Grumbling, he began picking up his tools and putting them away, leaving Lilobot unattended and free to roam the room.<br />
<br />
She didn't have to go far. Not six steps from where she'd been sitting, she saw it: the table, the ebony bag that looked large enough to fit a person inside. A body. A small gasp escaped her mouth.<br />
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"What's--oh," Lamont groaned as he peered over his shoulder again and saw where she was.<br />
<br />
"Can... can I see it?" Lilobot asked, her optical lenses spinning wildly as she looked up and down the bag, scouting for any exposed parts of its contents.<br />
<br />
"Well--I wanted to keep that as a surprise, too," he remarked back with wicked shake of his head. "But... trust me. You'll like it."<br />
<br />
"How do you know?" Lil asked cheekily, spinning her head in Lamont's direction.<br />
<br />
He grinned back at her, sending her a bit of a sly wink. "I just do."<br />
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"You know..." Lil sighed as she walked back towards Lamont, wringing her hands nervously as she drew nearer and nearer. "These past few days... I have really--felt really close to you."<br />
<br />
"Yeah?" Lamont asked, his face falling. "Why's that?"<br />
<br />
"I am not sure--I think it has just been so long since anyone paid this much attention to me. It is... nice."<br />
<br />
"Well, you deserve it, Lil. You're a sweet gal--I think a lot of people take you for granted."<br />
<br />
"And... you really think I am special?"<br />
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"Yeah." Lamont briefly looked away. "I do."<br />
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"WHOA WHOA WHOA--Lil, what are you doing?!"<br />
<br />
Lilobot froze, mid-attempted embrace. Her arms still outstretched, her lips still tilted slightly towards him, she stopped, opening her eyes to find Lamont struggling to back away from her.<br />
<br />
"But--but I thought--you said that--"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, yeah, but Lil--I didn't mean it like <i>that</i>!"<br />
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"I... I..." Lilobot's face quickly began to fall, and her arms dropped back down to her sides. She took a careful step back, clear shame written on her face. "But Lamont, I thought you didn't care that I'm...?"<br />
<br />
"Look, Lil. It's not because of what you are--under different circumstances... I don't know, Lil. I like you, and it's been great spending time with you, but... I'm <i>married</i>. And I love my wife, and my son. I never expected--"<br />
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"Oh." Lil's head drooped on her neck. "Right."<br />
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"Lil, it's okay, you don't--"<br />
<br />
"No! How could I be so <i>stupid!</i> I am so selfish, I could not even see past the end of my nose! You are just so perfect, and wonderful, and--"<br />
<br />
"Whoa there, don't get carried away," Lamont said, his smile coming back. "I'm far from perfect."<br />
<br />
"But you are, to me! You all are... With your lips and your hair and your beating hearts and your--"<br />
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"Lil, Lil--just stop there," Lamont spoke abruptly, grabbing Lil's shoulder to try and stop her animated speech. "Pretty soon, you're going to have all of those things, too."<br />
<br />
"Yes... But I will never be human," Lilobot sighed in soft lament. "Not <i>really</i>."<br />
<br />
Lamont paused, but after a moment of careful consideration, he knew just what he had to say. "Lil, you're more human than you'll ever know. Part of being human is being imperfect--realizing that you aren't... that's the first step towards becoming more like us. Soon enough, people will see you for who you really are underneath this exterior... and then you'll have boys falling <i>all</i> over you. Ones you'll like far more than me, or Tanner--ones that actually deserve your affection." He gave her a bit of a shake. "You got that?"<br />
<br />
Reluctantly, Lilobot lifted her eyes and looked back into Lamont's. "You really think so?"<br />
<br />
He smiled, pulling her closer. "Really."<br />
<br />
"Now," he finished, looking straight into her eyes. "Let's get you home."<br />
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"Roonnniiieee--could you come here for a second?"<br />
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Veronica grumbled, eyeing the door to her room as venomously as if her mother were standing right in front of it. "Yeah Mum, be right there," she hollered back, sending a remorseful glance to both Margo and Kenzie before shoving herself up off the floor and heading out back down the stairs.<br />
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<br />
Once Veronica had vanished, Kenzie let out a lungful of air with so much relief, Margo could've sworn she'd held it in since they first walked through the front doors of Ronnie's house.<br />
<br />
"Man--Vee has <i>all</i> the best toys," Kenzie piped as she eyed the detail on the little heads of the dollhouse's newest residents. "Her parents must've made a buttload of simolies back in Egypt. She's got so much stuff<i>, </i>even with three other siblings. Don't you wish you were this lucky?" Kenzie didn't sound resentful, but there definitely was longing in the way she ended that question.<br />
<br />
"Mmm," was Margo's only vocal response, paired with a slight shrug as she pulled her teddy bear, Pixie, closer to her.<br />
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<br />
"Really? You're not jealous, like, at all?"<br />
<br />
"Not really," Margo said as she let Pixie fall away from her chest and back into her lap. She began fiddling with the bear's plastic eyeball, before adding, "I don' care about <i>stuff</i> that much, I guess. There's a lotta fings I'd rather have."<br />
<br />
Kenzie thought about this for a second, and then nodded. "Yeah, you're right," she sighed, but not without casting a glower in Mr. Dollhouse Occupant's direction, first.<br />
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Margo was relieved that Kenzie let the subject fall, because not five seconds after, Veronica re-entered the room looking remarkably more cheerful than she had when she'd exited.<br />
<br />
"My mum says dinner's ready! We got everything set up at the table, but we better hurry before my brothers steal all the food," she quipped--which was an obviously untruthful remark, unless her brothers had the appetites of a dozen hungry lions.<br />
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Kenzie was the first to get up; clearly, all it took to draw her away from the enviable $500 dollhouse was a plate of food with her name on it.<br />
<br />
"Ugh, about time," she moaned as she rubbed her belly animatedly. "I'm <i>starving!</i>"<br />
<br />
"Coming, Margo?" Veronica asked quietly, peeking around Kenzie's lively hair with her lips puckered.<br />
<br />
Margo looked up with large eyes, blinking a few times before finally saying, "Oh, yeah, just lemme put Pixie in my sleeping bag."<br />
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"What'd your parents make today?" Kenzie asked excitedly, as if the worries and cares of not being inordinately rich had suddenly vanished. "Roast duck? Lamb chops? Lobster herfidor?"<br />
<br />
Veronica softly giggled, shaking her head. "No, you goof--just pizza."<br />
<br />
Kenzie wasn't disappointed by this fact in the least, but before she could express that, a surprisingly loud Margo interrupted her. "Hey guys--before we go downstairs... Can I ask you somefing?"<br />
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"Are you crazy?" Kenzie asserted, hands on her hip. "Of course you can!"<br />
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Veronica, on the other hand, looked a bit more wary; Margo didn't ask for things very often, so the likelihood of this being a trap of some kind was fairly high. "What do you need?"<br />
<br />
"Well, it's just..." Margo scratched her head, suddenly finding it very difficult to say what she wanted to say. Courage was not something she held onto very well. "I dun like asking you guys, since you've already helped me so much wiff my reading, but... There's someone I really wanna write a note to, and I wanna make sure it's nice 'n stuff--do you fink you guys could, y'know... help me?<br />
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At the exact same moment, Ronnie and Kenzie looked at each other with maniacal smiles. "A looooooove note?" Kenzie asked, giggling.<br />
<br />
"Well, kinda," Margo responded, her face suddenly flushing over.<br />
<br />
Veronica gasped. "I know who it's toooooooo!"<br />
<br />
Unable to contain themselves, at the same moment, both Kenzie and Veronica broke out into a jubilant, "Josh and Margo, sittin' in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"<br />
<br />
"Stooooooppp!" Margo pleaded, but only half-heartedly. It was true; she couldn't deny that the thought of her and Josh kissing was <i>fantasmic</i>, but that wasn't who she was thinking about, tonight. "I like him, but... There's somebody else, too."<br />
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<br />
Instantly, both girls stopped their singing and looked at Margo, confused. This was the first they'd heard of any other boy lurking in Margo's wild, hopelessly romantic imagination, so naturally they were surprised. "Who?" Kenzie finally asked, unable to wait for Margo to finish.<br />
<br />
"Well..." Margo took a deep breath, and turned away to avoid them seeing her embarrassment. "Ian."<br />
<br />
She was right to avoid seeing their reactions--as expected, neither was what Margo would have hoped. "WHAT?!" Kenzie exclaimed. "HIM?! You <i>are</i> talking about Bucket of Scum Ian, right?"<br />
<br />
"Yah," Margo answered, almost ashamed.<br />
<br />
"I knew this would happen," Veronica gasped through closed fingers, folded over her mouth to disguise her shock. "She's got Bad Boy Syndrome--the uncontrollable crushing on the absolute least lovable guy in school."<br />
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"But--but he's <i>not!</i>" Margo exclaimed, so animatedly that both Kenzie and Veronica froze with their eyes as wide as pool balls. "Everybody is <i>wrong</i> about him! I know he's been a jerk, especially to us, but... Underneaff all that... jerk-i-ness, he's... he's..."<br />
<br />
"Slightly less of a jerk?"<br />
<br />
"No--he's... <i>nice</i>."<br />
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<br />
Although 'nice' was not really the description Margo was going for, it was enough. 'Nice' was the polar opposite of everything they'd ever imagined about Ian; and though Margo was a bit of a dreamer at times, both Kenzie and Ronnie knew that she wouldn't have forgiven Ian so quickly without <i>some</i> sort of good reasoning.<br />
<br />
"Well... what do you think, Kenz?" Ronnie asked, rubbing her head nervously.<br />
<br />
Kenzie threw her hands up into the air. "I don't like-it," she blurted out quickly. "I'd rather eat worms than be nice to that twerp--"<br />
<br />
"I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't asked," Margo sighed, her head hanging from her shoulders in defeat.<br />
<br />
Margo, however, perked up when Kenzie suddenly continued where she'd left off. "--but it's not like <i>I</i> have to be nice to him, right? And maybe if Margo can get him to pull the stick outta his butt..."<br />
<br />
"Unlikely, but I agree. Besides--it's not about what we want. If you <i>really</i> want to write him something... we'll help you, Margo."<br />
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Margo could almost feel the tears welling up in the corner of her eyes the instant that they both turned back to face her. "R-r-really? You'll help me?"<br />
<br />
For some reason, she had always assumed they'd say no--that they'd call her crazy, that maybe even she'd lose her friends over it. It was one thing, to like a guy who was just out of their league, quite another to like a guy that had systematically tortured all of them since the day they'd met on the playground.<br />
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"Really, we will," Veronica said, turning her gaze back to Kenzie for absolute confirmation.<br />
<br />
"Yup," Kenzie affirmed. "That's what friends are for... to help you, even if we think what you're doin' is absolutely <i>nuts</i>."<br />
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Nuts or not, Margo could not hold herself back--she ran into Kenzie's embrace at the speed of light, squeezing her best friend's tummy so tight that she could only hiccup at Margo's extreme enthusiasm. Only a moment later, Veronica latched on as well, effectively completing the Margo sandwich without even the slightest hesitation.<br />
<br />
Perhaps, at times, she envied everything her friends had which she did not. Kenzie's boldness? Veronica's insight? Their talents, their intelligence? It was all in the realm of fantasy, for Margo, but at the end of the day, you can only envy what you do not have... And like it or not, she had them. The best friends in the whole. Wide. World.<br />
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<hr />
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<br />
Lilobot was so hopeful and fragile. Margo was so innocent and forgiving. They were each taking brave steps towards the unknown, towards a change.<br />
<br />
If only they knew, on the other side of town, there was another kind of change about to happen... one quite different than anything even Margo could imagine in her dreams.<br />
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"C'mon, beauty... just give it a bit more oomph. That does it--aha!" The grip on the wrench in Bradley's hand became slack as, with little grandeur or display, he let the power channel into the machine. <i>His</i> machine.<br />
<br />
Within moments, he could hear the hum it created resonating through the air. It was so strong he could feel it through the soles of his feet.<br />
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Bradley carefully took two steps back. Looked up. Smiled.<br />
<br />
"<i>Success.</i>"<br />
<br />
It was a feeling he had only experienced twice before: first, the moment he stood before his fully operational time machine; the second, when he watched the electric spark light up in Lilobot's eyes for the very first time. Both times, he had had little or no help. Both times, everyone believed he would fail.<br />
<br />
They had all believed he would fail this time, too--even Lamont, bless his heart. They had all given up, but Brad. So, today, the glory was all his.<br />
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But suddenly, all the triumph in his heart faded as quickly as a pin drop. The hum was no longer simply a hum--there was something else. The floor beneath him shivered, but not in reality: in his mind.<br />
<br />
"No... not yet--please, not yet," he groaned to the room around him, but it clearly could not help him. Instead, there was only pain. He could not see, could not hear, could not smell--all that he sensed was his head burning with pain beneath his fingertips.<br />
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As his legs crumpled underneath him, the reality of his choices--his mistakes--washed over him. "What have I done," he whispered.<br />
<br />
He knew the answer, but it was too painful to comprehend--even more painful than what was happening to his body. But, all too quickly, all his thoughts vanished and succumbed to reality. He blinked violently, but though his vision returned, what he saw was not what he expected to see.<br />
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His skin was not his own.<br />
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The bridge of his glasses pressed hard into his face as he felt the skin of his cheeks, but what he felt was quite surreal as well. Even the way the frames of specs felt within his palm did not seem right. He knew what would happen--he knew <i>this </i>would happen--but knowing and experiencing was a distinction Bradley had quite miserably failed to comprehend.<br />
<br />
The last thing he saw before his glasses slipped and shattered to on the floor was the world begin to glow.
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-68930519046628727232011-12-25T01:00:00.000-08:002012-03-13T14:17:49.361-07:00A Kane Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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-------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
Well, Margo and Korva may not be getting along well, but I hope that all of you guys are having a wonderful day (or day after, depending on your part of the world!) anyways!<br />
<br />
Some brief news: yes, I'm all moved in!! Everything went very smoothly with the move, outside of a collision we almost had just a few miles outside of Winnipeg--but I'm going to assume that all you guys' wishes of good luck kept us out of harm's way. :)<br />
<br />
I did only just get internet 3 days ago, though, since our landlords never got the house connected to the phone line--so I am incredibly behind on all my blog reading, tumblr-sifting, youtube immersing, and everything else that keeps me connected with the community. It'll take me a while to get on top of that, so please, hang tight. Not only do I have a mound of stuff to do (including being drafted by my guild into SWTOR and will unlikely be spending as much time in the Sims community as y'all have gotten used to lately), I'm fighting a bit of a re-emergence of my depression and so being social and productive are quite difficult for me right now.<br />
<br />
As for <b>Desperate Sims</b> and <b>Dipped</b>? DS Season 7 will wrap up rather quickly--I have all my screenshots taken, I just need to write a couple of the episodes and then they'll be all finished. After that's done, I will be focusing exclusively on <b>Dipped </b>and <b>Yours Truly, Margo</b> for a while to get them to the points they need to be.<br />
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I really, really hope that you guys' Holiday season ends up being a wonderful, safe, and cozy one--you guys have been in my thoughts a lot the past month, and I'm glad I was able to get my internet in time so I could tell you all how amazing and loved you all are.<br />
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Until next time--Happy Holidays~!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-73493593219214201282011-11-23T17:09:00.000-08:002012-03-13T14:17:49.366-07:00Broken Heart SyndromeThe swing's hinge creaked sadly as Margo's rubber boot gently scraped the ground beneath her. She swayed gently, but only with the push of a light wind at her back; her mind was not in the present, so she barely even registered the fact she was still sitting on a swing at all.<br />
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Instead, her mind was consumed with the previous day--that moment when the boy of her dreams spent one moment looking into her eyes. Smiling.<br />
<br />
Josh not only knew she existed, but he actually paid attention to her, and the things she liked. He had actually come up to <i>her</i>, and spoken directly to her--it was harmless chit-chat, yes, and it probably didn't mean very much, except that he was a nice guy and thought she was a nice girl.<br />
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But that's not how <i>she</i> would remember it.<br />
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"But, he doesn't like me, and he never will," Margo spoke aloud, echoing Natasha's sentiments from the previous day. "It's hopeless."<br />
<br />
With that depressing realization, she snapped back to reality, taking a heavy sigh as she looked out across the empty lake.<br />
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Behind her, an approaching Ian listened to Margo's words with an uncomfortable knot in his throat.<br />
<br />
He was fairly certain she wasn't talking about him, but that actually made it feel worse. Margo's crush on Josh Seymour was pretty common knowledge--though Margo never really seemed to realize that--and lately, it had really started to bother Ian.<br />
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Ian couldn't exactly find fault with Josh, but that didn't matter. He still didn't like him.<br />
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For a moment, he considered leaving Margo to her daydreams, but a recent conversation with Mrs. Kane came to mind and brought back the confidence he'd had when he had first started looking for Margo after school.<br />
<br />
"The only thing standing in your way is you, Ian. You're the one making the choices to act like you do. Imagine if you did something nice for people--don't you think they'd see you differently?"<br />
<br />
"Maybe... but like, what?"<br />
<br />
"Well... I know Margo always likes getting presents--why don't you try getting something nice for her? Something thoughtful? I think you underestimate how much she'd like to have a friend like you."<br />
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When he spotted Margo standing up from the swings, he knew he had his chance. He quickly hopped up behind her--definitely not sneakily enough, because she noticed him instantly.<br />
<br />
She said nothing, though. Instead, she just looked at him, her eyes full of curiousity.<br />
<br />
"Um... hi," Ian said after a few moments of intense blinking. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"<br />
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<br />
Margo winced, taking a half-step back from him when he continued coming closer. Her eyes flickered from Ian to the road, surveying all of her escape routes thoroughly before she finally mustered the courage to respond. "I-I-I guess," she stammered. "Wren's not around, is she?"<br />
<br />
"No, it's just me," Ian responded coldly, scrunching his nose in disgust. Wasn't it obvious he was alone?<br />
<br />
"A-a-alright," Margo said after another few seconds. "What's up?"<br />
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<br />
"I've just... been thinking. About Halloween and stuff. I wanted to tell you... I really did mean what I said. I wasn't just spewing stuff to make you stop crying."<br />
<br />
"... I don' really understand. Why wouldn't you mean it?"<br />
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<br />
"Well, 'cause... I dunno, Margo. Sometimes you're just... scared, of like, <i>everything</i>, and everybody's gotta soften things up for you so you aren't such a crybaby all the time. So people lie to you to get you to stop."<br />
<br />
"... Oh."<br />
<br />
"But that's what I'm trying to tell you--from now on, I'm not gonna do that. I think... I think you're really... you know. Nice. And stuff. I don't wanna lie to you anymore. I... ya know. Like you."<br />
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<br />
Unfortunately, Ian's attempt to "sugar coat" his feelings with complete honesty did him no favors. The second he waited for her to say something in response, she paused, looked him sourly in the eye, and turned around and started to walk away.<br />
<br />
"Wait--Margo... That came out really--ugh. I... I got you something?"<br />
<br />
Margo stopped. She twisted her chin over her shoulder, and gave him a rather dark, but inquisitive look. Even Margo didn't like being 'bought off', but the sincerity in his eyes made it difficult to leave him hanging. "You did?"<br />
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<br />
Margo took a deep breath and turned her rubber boots 180-degrees around to face him. There was pounding in her chest; she'd never been given anything from a boy before, and although Ian wasn't exactly the boy she wanted to receive something from, she couldn't help but feel anxious with anticipation.<br />
<br />
"You... really got<i> </i>me somefing?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah," Ian said with a shrug as he shoved his hand into his pocket and started trying to remove what laid inside. "It's not much, but it took all my allowance... I hope you like it."<br />
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<br />
"Meet: Mr. Scabby!" Ian flourished his arms as he withdrew a rather large, fat rat with a quivering nose from his pocket. "I know how much you like fuzzy animals, and how much you like those Jimmy Sprocket stories, so I named him Scabby after his pet rat!"<br />
<br />
Before Margo even had time to process what was happening, Ian cupped 'Mr. Scabby' in his hands and offered him out to her. "Here!"<br />
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<br />
Her reaction was <i>not</i> what he expected. Instead of reaching out her hands to take him, she stumbled several steps backwards, her lip quivering and her breathing panicked.<br />
<br />
"What's wrong?" Ian asked when she continued to stare, horrified, at the rodent in his hands. "Don't you like him?"<br />
<br />
"R... rat... rat..." Margo muttered, her whole body leaning backwards as her eyes grew wider and wider and wider and a whimper escaped her lungs.<br />
<br />
Ian scowled, extending Scabby out to her again with an incredibly impatient growl. "Uh, <i>duh</i>, yeah, it's a rat. C'mon, take him!"<br />
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<br />
He approached one step, she took another step back.<br />
<br />
They repeated this dance, until she suddenly took off running when Mr. Scabby made a rather loud 'squeak' from Ian's hands.<br />
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<br />
Ian instantly took off after her, but with Scabby in his hands he couldn't afford to run fast enough to catch her. "Margo--wait! Come back!! Where are you going?!"<br />
<br />
"Get it... away... from... me...!" Margo wheezed back at him as she ran, her face completely plastered with fear. "Please...!"<br />
<br />
"What, why?! It's just a rat! It's <i>harmless! </i>Stop being such a chicken!"<br />
<br />
"No!"<br />
<br />
"<i>Yes!"</i> Ian had had enough; with his loudest voice possible, he commanded a rather fierce and hot-tempered: "Dammit, Margo--STOP!"<br />
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<br />
Margo froze immediately--but at the cost of tears. As her feet landed on the top step of the stairs down to the beach, she felt a warm drop cascade from the corner of her eye. She tried to wipe it away hastily, but it was too late; Ian already saw the look on her face.<br />
<br />
"What is your <i>problem?!</i>" he snapped, the corner of his lip twitching angrily. "Is this how you always react when someone tries to do something <i>nice</i> for you?!"<br />
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<br />
"N-n-no, it's just--" Margo paused, still trying to catch her breath. "Not... what I expected."<br />
<br />
Ian's scowl deepened even further. "Not what you <i>expected?</i> What'd you want, a freakin' <i>pony?!</i> Is that what I have to do to get you to like me?!"<br />
<br />
"No! No, I mean... I just... I don't know." She was at a loss. That certainly wasn't the case (although, who could say no to a pony?!) but she had no idea what else to say. There was absolutely nothing she could do to take back her overreaction, so she did the only thing she could think to do: say nothing at all.<br />
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<br />
Enraged even further, Ian turned and stomped several feet away.<br />
<br />
"Well, Scabby--I guess nobody likes you," he said with a heavy sigh, cradling the rat in his hands for a few long, painful seconds before kneeling to the ground and letting him wander away from his fingers. "Better go find somewhere where you're wanted."<br />
<br />
The rat, clearly never having been free before, paused a few more seconds at the tip of Ian's fingers before scuttling away at lightning speed, disappearing almost instantly.<br />
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<br />
A few seconds later, Margo peeked her head around the bush. "What... what did you do?!" she asked between sniffles, timidly following Ian as he continued to walk away from her.<br />
<br />
"I let him go," he snarked in a 'what-do-you-think?' manner, rolling his eyes.<br />
<br />
"But... but--he's not wild, is he? He... he could get hurt! Or-or <i>eaten!</i>"<br />
<br />
"Well, that's not <i>my</i> problem anymore," Ian growled as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I tried to give him to you, you didn't want him. <i>Your</i> fault, not mine." Not even stopping to give her another glance, Ian started jogging up the hill towards the road, where he'd soon disappear out of Margo's sight. "See ya later, Margo," he said in a cold voice before zooming beyond her reach.<br />
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<br />
The moment he was gone, Margo couldn't contain herself any longer.<br />
<br />
Nothing she'd felt before this--not all the bullies, the embarrassment, the rejection--had ever hurt this much. "Why am I so <i>stupid?!</i>" she wailed into her hands, which were now covered with the salt from her tears.<br />
<br />
The full effect of her reaction began to settle in. It was quite obvious, now, he was just trying to be nice--and she'd messed it up. <i>And</i> possibly led a harmless, furry little critter to it's doom. Nothing could possibly be worse.<br />
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<br />
"Scaaaabbbbyy.... SCAABBBYY!!" Margo ran up and down the beach, calling the rat's name with a frail hope that it would come running back to her, tail wagging like a miniature canine. She crawled under bushes, snuck around confused adults, chased after anything that moved, and dug under rocks, but it was no use; "Mr. Scabby" was no where to be found.<br />
<br />
Exhausted and downtrodden, Margo slunk back to the top of the hill and cowered in defeat. "Why do I gotta mess up <i>everyfing?</i>" she sniffled to herself. "Can't I do somefing right just <i>once?</i>"<br />
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<br />
At that moment, something white darted across the corner of her vision. Hope completely lost, she almost didn't take a second glance--but when it froze, then darted back and forth across the same patch of sand, she knew it was:<br />
<br />
"SCABBY!" Margo almost tripped, she flew down the slope of the beach so quickly. Luck was in her favor; she didn't trip or stumble the entire way to the rat's resting place on the sand.<br />
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<br />
She approached with caution; she still didn't quite trust that it wouldn't turn into a giant murderous monster and bite her fingers off, or at the very least scatter the second she tried to pick it up.<br />
<br />
"Here, Scabby Scabby Scabby," she said in a gentle voice as she lowered her hand, which the rat just looked at with a wiggle of his nose. "I'm not gonna hurt ya!"<br />
<br />
Bracing herself for the scariness and the grossness of holding a rat, Margo winced her eyes shut and carefully picked the rodent up from the ground.<br />
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<br />
"Wow," she wheezed as she stared intently at poor Mr. Scabby's wedge-shaped head. "You're... actually kinna cute!" And much tamer than she expected, as well; perhaps he'd been overfed at the pet store, but he seemed much more lethargic and easy-going than she was always told rats would be.<br />
<br />
Margo pet his nose; he squeaked. She nearly dropped him and lost him all over again, but her usual horrible luck be damned, Scabby went nowhere but more nestled into her hand.<br />
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<br />
It was as if everything that had happened minutes ago between her and Ian had been erased. With Mr. Scabby pressed against her cheek, a feeling of warmth spread from the top of her head to the tips of her toes; though it wasn't the pet she had always dreamed of, it was <i>hers.</i><br />
<br />
And it was given from a boy that liked her for her. Maybe he wasn't as dreamy, well-mannered, and popular as Josh, but there was more to him than she had expected. Just like Mr. Scabby: a little revolting and frightening at first glance, but warm and well-intentioned underneath.<br />
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Maybe, just maybe, <i>Ian </i>was the Prince she'd been looking for all along.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
<br />
"Another <i>Oil Guzzler</i> please--heavy on the *brzzp* guzzzzzz, ifyaknowwattaknowattamean."<br />
<br />
"Are you sure? You've already had--"<br />
<br />
"I'm a <i>machine</i>, <i>machine's</i> can't get drunk. <i>Machine's</i> can't get buzzzzzed. <i>Machine's</i> can't <i>love.</i>"<br />
<br />
"... Alright, Lilobot... if you say so."<br />
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<br />
The bartender wasn't going to argue with Lilobot, tonight. Every night previously had just been attempt after futile attempt to get her to stop slugging back alcohol like it was her life and breath, and there was nothing left to say. Lil was stubborn, and the barkeep felt pity for her.<br />
<br />
Pity... it was something Lilobot was getting used to. She hated that she was.<br />
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<br />
When she realized that the time was already well after midnight, she slapped down the simoleans to cover her tab and stood up abruptly--nearly clunking over in the process. Clearly, she'd had so much alcohol tonight that her <i>real</i> oil was running a bit thin. Whoops.<br />
<br />
"Excuse me," she muttered to the wary bartender after emitting an enflamed burp from her throat. "I suppose... I'll be going."<br />
<br />
"I'm calling you a cab," she got in response.<br />
<br />
"Oh. Er... yes, that would be suffic *bzzrrpp* ient. Thank you."<br />
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<br />
The house was dark when she got home--all but a thin sliver of light coming from the garage. Time meant nothing to an inventor; Bradley was obviously still awake.<br />
<br />
And she had a bone to pick with him.<br />
<br />
"<i>Please</i> tell me you're finished recalibrating that thing already," came Bradley's angry voice from inside the laboratory. "We need to do another test run before I install the tiberium composite."<br />
<br />
Lil couldn't see Lamont, but she heard his peppy response clear as day. "Almost, almost! Just chill for a second Brad, you can't rush art."<br />
<br />
Bradley groaned as his eyes rolled back into his head. "If that's art, you may as well be finger painting."<br />
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<br />
This probably wasn't the best time for this, but she wasn't going to get an opportunity that was any better. "Here goes <i>nuttin'</i>," she said in the mimic voice of a wild-west actor, before shoving the glass door to the lab open.<br />
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<br />
"Hey, <i>Dad!</i>" she said snappily as she wobbled in. "Whatcha woorrrrrkin' on?"<br />
<br />
"The accelerated DNA modifier to make Amelia human again--the same thing I've been working on for the last, oh, year?" Brad said with a smart-aleck roll of his eyes. When Lil continued to approach swaying, Brad scowled. "Lil, are you <i>drunk?</i>"<br />
<br />
"I have simply been sampling the finest liquors the Steel Stallion has to offer, pop! I'm just a machine, it's not like I can *bzzzrrpp* become <i>intoxicated!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
"You can still impair your positronic brain's ability to function properly by taking in alcohol, Lilobot. That's incredibly dangerous for your hardware."<br />
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<br />
"Dangerous, shmangerous--not like you aren't working with toxic, radioactive chemicals down here, anyways!"<br />
<br />
Bradley groaned; he was growing tired of this. "Lil, we're very busy. What do you want?"<br />
<br />
"Well... you're working soooooo*bzzzrrpp*oooo hard to make aunt Amelia human again, I just thought--since you've already gone to the trouble to do all this, that you just go ahead and make me human, too!" Lil put her foot down--metaphorically and physically, almost snapping the tile of floor beneath her in half. "I'm tired of being a simbot! <i>Make me human!"</i><br />
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<br />
"Lil. Stop being ridiculous. Go upstairs and go to bed."<br />
<br />
"No! I'm staying right here! You brought me into this world, it's your responsibility to make sure I'm happy--and I'm not."<br />
<br />
"I don't have time for this right now--<i>go.</i>"<br />
<br />
"Brad, maybe there's something we can--" Lamont began, but was quickly cut off.<br />
<br />
"You two are testing my patience--<i>please</i>, come back when we aren't busy to discuss this, Lil."<br />
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<br />
Unfortunately, that compromise was not what Lil was looking for. Overcome with desperation, she did the only other thing she thought may work: drop to the floor, getting on her knees to beg.<br />
<br />
"<i>Please!</i> You do not <i>understand!</i> I need this! I <i>need</i> to be human!"<br />
<br />
"Lil... I'm sorry to tell you this, but," Bradley took a long, deep breath. "That's impossible. You can't just... <i>become</i> human. It doesn't work that way."<br />
<br />
"Well, isn't there a way to transfer her neural pathways to a human brain? The electric brain's neural activity is almost identical to a humans," Lamont interjected, shrugging when both Brad and Lil turned to look at him.<br />
<br />
Brad, though, gave him a very intense <i>you-aren't-helping</i> glare for his input. "Sure, but say that we spend 5 years developing the technology to do it--where the hell are we supposed to get a body? Snatch one off the street? Grow one in a petri dish? I broke enough ethical codes giving Lil A.I. in the first place, I'm not about to risk my career by getting into a scandal over the moral implications of growing a human just to use as a host."<br />
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<br />
"But... but there has to be <i>something? Anything!</i>" Lilobot's voice broke into cracked wheezes, the closest thing to sobs her mechanical vocal chords could portray. "I beg you... I can't live this way forever--a<i>lone!</i>"<br />
<br />
"This conversation is finished," Bradley snarled, waving his arm to point towards the door. "You're leaving, now."<br />
<br />
"But--"<br />
<br />
"NOW."<br />
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<br />
With little other choice, Lilobot quickly got to her feet and bolted out the door, crying as much as a simbot can cry all the way up the stairs to the surface.<br />
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<br />
"Lil... are you alright?"<br />
<br />
Lilobot was startled when she heard Lamont's voice behind her. It was usually hard to sneak up on Lil, but with her senses impaired it would be easy for a bull in a china shop to go unnoticed by her; they were so impaired, she didn't even care that they were.<br />
<br />
She wasn't too thrilled about being bothered, though. "I am perfectly fine," she remarked in well-practiced sarcasm. "Never better." She knew she should've gone up to her room to snuggle with Spot, instead.<br />
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<br />
"C'mon--talk to me," Lamont insisted, taking a few tentative steps closer to her spot on the grass.<br />
<br />
"It is just--" she lifted an arm and looked at it, judging it. "I am nothing more than a glorified manufacturing robot. I am hideous--no one can stand the sight of me."<br />
<br />
"Lil, that's not true."<br />
<br />
"Then you are kidding yourself, sir," she said with a high-pitched sigh. "I was made to be a droid, a functionary component of this household with a task to attend to efficiently--but instead, I... became human, in as much sense as a person can be--except this shell. This... ugly, worthless tin can. No one loves tin cans. They throw them away... just like me."<br />
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<br />
"Lil--no one's going to throw you away. C'mon. Get up." When she didn't, Lamont leaned down and helped the clumsy, wobbly creature to her feet, where she continued to avert her gaze away from him. "Look at me."<br />
<br />
"No, thank you."<br />
<br />
"... Fine. Just--look. You are loved by so many people--why do you think they would want to throw you away?"<br />
<br />
"Because--it is different, with <i>real</i> love. <i>True</i> love. In that case... I am afraid, I will always be alone."<br />
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<br />
"Oh." Lamont looked away as well, suddenly becoming incredibly uncomfortable. He knew Lilobot as well as any scientist knows his coworker's inspired creation, but he'd never had a conversation with her that involved something so personal. Unfortunately, there was little he could do now--he'd already jumped in headfirst.<br />
<br />
"My father--he is the only hope I had of changing that," she sighed, rolling her shoulders up into a shrug. "I always thought he would listen, and do everything he could for me--but he has... changed."<br />
<br />
Lamont cringed. "Yeah, he has."<br />
<br />
Lil paused for a moment, thoughtful. "Why?"<br />
<br />
"I... don't know, to be perfectly honest. He's sick, and won't admit it to anyone, especially himself. And you know him... he's stubborn, and prideful, and doesn't want to seem weak--at least, that's all I can guess. I really can't say, for sure. We won't know until this is over, and he actually can take a step back from his work."<br />
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<br />
After several moments of silence, Lamont's eyes slowly made contact with Lil's again. "Well... I've been thinking about your request. Lil--are you sure this is something you really, <i>really</i> want?"<br />
<br />
For the first time, Lil finally looked up directly into Lamont's eyes. She slowly nodded her head up and down, and responded, softly, "More than anything."<br />
<br />
"Well... It's not exactly perfect, but--" he continued after a long, deep breath. "I think..."<br />
<br />
"Yes?"<br />
<br />
"I think--if you're willing to try... I can give you what you need."</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-48653952335174078172011-11-20T17:00:00.000-08:002011-11-20T20:13:17.079-08:00Unrequited Love<br />
If there's anything about school kids love more than snow days, it's field trips. There's nothing quite like a day of school spent out of school--and even though the bus rides can be long and hellish, it's almost always worth it.<br />
<br />
After over an hour of watching the flat swamps of Twinbrook turn into the rolling hills of Appaloosa Plains through the windows of the school bus, two dozen kids escaped to the solid ground with wobbly but thankful legs--and it took everything in Alesha's power to keep them from running off the second they filed onto the sidewalk. Luckily, most of them were too afraid of losing their field trip privileges to do anything stupid.<br />
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"Well, class--this is the Lawrence Equestrian Center!" she said brightly as the kids gathered around her, their faces hopeful that she wouldn't waste too much time talking. "This week we're going to be learning about the early domestication of animals, so I decided we'd kick it off by seeing a bit of what it's like in present day."<br />
<br />
"Now, we're here a little bit earlier than planned, so Ms. Christina's given us permission to go and meet some of the horses before she talks to us about how they're trained--please behave yourselves. I don't want to have to.... phone... field trip... LEC... can't... allowed..."<br />
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Margo didn't pay much attention once her mother said they could wander off on their own. For once in her life, Margo cared very little about the rules were--all she wanted was to escape and explore. She even wandered away from Kenzie and Veronica, who seemed pretty content to stick with the majority of the class--but with so much going on around them, Margo was easily pulled away. Her curiousity got the best of her, for once.<br />
<br />
She'd never seen a horse before... at least, not this close. A few people in Twinbrook owned then, but the nearest she'd been to a horse in Twinbrook was knee deep in one of her fantasies. What was a princess without her beautiful steed, right?<br />
<br />
But a real one? The bridge between reality and fantasy never felt closer.<br />
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<br />
All she needed now was for Prince Charming to appear.<br />
<br /><span id="fullpost">
"Pretty cool, huh?" Josh asked as he walked up to the fence next to Margo, his lips drawn into a broad, boyish smile.<br />
<br />
"Uh huh," Margo mumbled in response, too awe-struck to recognize who had spoken to her.<br />
<br />
Josh had never been able to speak to Margo before without her bolting off with her face completely red, so he took the opportunity to try and get more than a few words out of her. "You ever ridden one before? My parents let me try, once--it was amazing."<br />
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<br />
Margo opened her mouth to respond, but once she caught a glance of who was next to her, her entire face flushed.<br />
<br />
Josh?! The most popular and cutest boy in school? Margo couldn't tell if her heart stopped or was just beating too fast to tell; she was far too distracted with what she was seeing and feeling that for a moment, she completely forgot he'd even asked a question.<br />
<br />
"I, uh, er," she stuttered as she tried to remember if she had or not. "No... No, I've never ridden one before."<br />
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<br />
"Aww, that's too bad," he responded with a small shrug, looking over at the horse slowly jumping hurdles in front of them. "Seems like the sorta thing you'd like."<br />
<br />
Margo's eyes grew even bigger. How would he have any idea what she would like?! Did he actually pay attention to her?<br />
<br />
Thoughts swarmed in her mind, but before she could even think to ask him, he gave a small shrug and sent her a whimsical smile. "Well, I'm gonna go look at the babies with the rest of the class. See ya later, Margo!"<br />
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<br />
After he was gone, Margo blinked in disbelief. There was no way that just happened... but soon enough, she got her reality check.<br />
<br />
"What was that about, pigtails?" said a snobby voice over Margo's shoulder, sending all the good feelings that had ballooned in her chest deflating in an instant.<br />
<br />
If Josh was the 'King' of Twinbrook Elementary, then Natasha was his 'Queen'. There was hardly any time when they weren't seen together--but where Josh was pretty oblivious to how cool he was, Natasha flourished off of it. For the most part, she seemed not to care much about Margo's existence--which is what Margo preferred--but occasionally, her territorial instincts got the better of her.<br />
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<br />
"It--it was nuffing... He was j-just asking me if I'd ever ridden a horse before."<br />
<br />
"Uh huh." Natasha looked totally unconvinced. "Well, you just stay away from him, okay? He doesn't like you, and he never will--so just leave him alone."<br />
<br />
"But I--"<br />
<br />
"I've seen the way you stare at him. It's gross. So just keep to yourself, and we don't have a problem. Alright?"<br />
<br />
"I... I... Alright. No talking. I got it."<br />
<br />
With her nose scrunched--both at Margo and the horrible smell of the stables--Natasha nodded quickly and turned away. "Good."<br />
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<br />
Even though Natasha had quickly disappeared and didn't look like she was coming back, Margo wanted out of there as fast as possible. For a moment she considered trying to find Kenzie and Veronica, but the disappearance of the lady riding over the hurdles had sparked Margo's curiosity again. Besides, she didn't want Natasha to think she was chasing after Josh.<br />
<br />
She wasn't sure if she was allowed inside the barn, but what she saw once she was in was enough to make up for any possibility she'd get in trouble. Quietly, Margo watched the woman remove her horse's saddle, then stood on her tip-toes to peek inside the stall beside her.<br />
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<br />
The second she did, a small face appeared between the bars. Margo opened her mouth to gasp, but the animal looked at her so curiously and so sweetly than Margo wasn't overcome with the fear that she expected. In fact, even the small whuffle it made towards her sounded friendly.<br />
<br />
Margo approached, slowly; when it didn't back away, she reached out her hands. The foal's nose was soft under her fingertips, but unlike what she would have imagined. She smiled, almost breaking out in giggles with the overwhelming joy she suddenly felt. Her confrontation with Natasha was immediately forgotten.<br />
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<br />
"I see you've met Dusty," the woman said from behind her, a small smile of satisfaction on her face from watching the way Margo pet the foal's nose. "Or Dusty Dame, to be more precise. I think she likes you," she said added with a chuckle.<br />
<br />
"She's pretty," Margo mumbled, not taking her eyes off of Dusty's face. "Where's her mom?"<br />
<br />
"Up in Riverview, unfortunately. Dusty's just with us temporarily while she's looking for a new home. She's actually been a bit homesick since she got here--this is the first I've seen her get up to greet anyone."<br />
<br />
Margo frowned a little as she looked between the woman and the horse. "I'm sorry, Dusty. I'd miss my mommy, too."<br />
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<br />
The woman chuckled again. "I'm Christina, by the way," she said as she watched Dusty playfully sniff the tips of Margo's hair.<br />
<br />
"Heheh! Stop it!" Margo giggled, but she did manage to turn a small glance up at Christina between nosy nuzzles from the filly. "Oh--I'm Margo."<br />
<br />
"Well, Margo--would you like me to take her out for you?"<br />
<br />
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"You--you would?!" Margo bounced up and down on her toes. "I promise, I promise, I'll be good!"<br />
<br />
"I'm sure you will," Christina laughed. "Just step back so I can slide open the door, mmkay?"<br />
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<br />
You didn't have to tell Margo twice to get out of the way; she stood clear as far as she could, but still get a good view of Dusty timidly, yet curiously walking out of her stall.<br />
<br />
She really was the most beautiful thing that Margo had ever seen. Maybe she wasn't the strongest or fastest looking horse, nor the sleekest or the most perfectly marked, but something about the way she looked at Margo made none of that matter.<br />
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"Christiiiiinaaaaa!" The sudden voice made all three of them jump and turn in the direction of the other side of the barn. "You in here?!"<br />
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"Yeah, I'm here," Christina responded with a small sigh. "What's up, Rachel?"<br />
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"Kasmo's escaped from his box--he's running loose with the kids, it's making him practically impossible to catch," Rachel called back, but she didn't seem very upset by it; in fact, she seemed to be struggling to keep herself from laughing.<br />
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<br />
"Again?!" Christina, however, did not look at all pleased. "That's the third time this week! Eastwind better come and pick him up by Saturday, I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with him... At this rate we're going to have to electrify all the fences," she said with a worried shake of her head. "That colt is more trouble than he's worth."<br />
<br />
"So you're--you're leaving?" Margo stuttered, her eyes growing wider once Rachel disappeared around the corner.<br />
<br />
"Yes dear, but I'll be right back. You can make sure that Dusty stays here in the barn, can't you?"<br />
<br />
"I... I guess."<br />
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<br />
A few minutes after Christina was gone, things seemed to still be going alright. Dusty seemed about as friendly as could be, despite her nagging desire to eat Margo's hair; Margo was having trouble deciding whether it was because she was hungry, or just trying to play.<br />
<br />
Things never seem to stay peaceful for Margo for long, though--and today just wasn't her lucky day. Not five minutes after both adults had vanished, two blonde haired kids appeared in the open doorway.<br />
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<br />
"There she is," the girl on the left--whom Margo now knew as Daisy--said in a low hiss. "Just as I expected. Hiding."<br />
<br />
The boy next to her, her brother Jackson, smirked as he looked from Margo to Daisy and back again. "Are you sure you wanna do this right now, sis? I really don' wanna get caught."<br />
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"It's fine, dimwit. C'mon."<br />
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"D-d-d-daisy... Hi..." Margo already knew what was coming. This wasn't the first, second, or even third time that Daisy had approached her, looking to start a fight--but this time, there was no Kenzie, Veronica, or teachers around to protect her. A heavy rock was forming in her stomach... this couldn't be good.<br />
<br />
"Don't 'hi' me, Kane." Daisy smiled wickedly. "So, where's your little friends now, huh? They finally realize how no-good you and your family are?"<br />
<br />
"N-no, they're just... outside..."<br />
<br />
"Uh-huh. Well, let's see how much good they do you, today!"<br />
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Margo continued to back up, barely managing to stay on her feet. "W-what do you want?" she sputtered, almost breaking out into tears. She wanted to prolong receiving Daisy's punches as long as possible.<br />
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<br />
In the doorway, two more children appeared--but these ones weren't nearly as eager to enter.<br />
<br />
"What's Daisy's problem," Ian remarked with an eyeroll as he noticed the commotion, though he clearly was trying to avoid looking directly at it.<br />
<br />
"Who cares?" Wren asked, giving him a sour look. "It's Margo, do they need a reason?"<br />
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<br />
When he said nothing, Wren groaned."Oh--come on, you are not still on about that crap over Halloween, are you?" He still didn't respond, so she kicked him in the shin. "Please tell me you don't feel sorry for her."<br />
<br />
Ian pointedly looked away. "I don't," he lied.<br />
<br />
"Good. C'mon, let's go... I heard Whitney mention something about a hot tub out back--let's get away from all this... stink."<br />
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<br />
As Ian and Wren slinked away unnoticed, Margo's dilemma was not getting any better. "What do I want?!" Daisy snarled in response to Margo's whimpered question. "Ha! She wants to know what I want, Jackson. Funny, huh?"<br />
<br />
"Very."<br />
<br />
"Fine, I'll tell you what I want. How about that lousy aunt of yours to stay in jail where she belongs? Your dad's tryin' to come up with some stupid cure to free her, and I can't let that happen!"<br />
<br />
"What do you--" Margo stuttered, but was quickly cut off.<br />
<br />
"Oh, you didn't know? Didn't know your precious little aunt Amelia's in jail for killing my dad?! Well I've got news for you, Margo--your family's nothing but a bunch of murderers and liars! And if I can't have him back... Then I better get revenge!"<br />
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Today, though, wouldn't be the day for Daisy; the second that her voice began to raise, Dusty started to paw the ground angrily. Jackson had tried tugging at his sister's shirt to try and get her to stop, but it was no use--Dusty already looked like she was ready to exact some revenge of her own.<br />
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"What the--stop it, horsey! Stop, stop!" Daisy said nervously, but it only seemed to make matters worse.<br />
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<br />
Dusty had had enough. As thin and knobby as her little legs were, she still managed to rear back, whinnying loudly and pawing in the direction of the siblings; as small as she was, an angry filly is still more intimidating than either of the de Wynter children were able to handle.<br />
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"Let's get outta here," Jackson squeaked as he grabbed at his sister's shirt, and this time, she didn't disagree. This was one fight they definitely were not going to win.<br />
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Margo watched the two children run away with her eyes wide with shock.<br />
<br />
This entire day seemed surreal; but nothing quite compared to how, as she started to back away and 'flee' from Dusty herself, the filly had already become calm again. In fact, Margo could almost swear she saw something in those warm, dark eyes that was almost human--that knew what Margo must be feeling.<br />
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<br />
For a moment she was unsure, but she couldn't deny the look in those eyes--so she reached out a hand and carefully placed it on Dusty's muzzle. "Thank you, Dusty," she said softly, with a smile. Again, she could have sworn, Dusty smiled back.<br />
<br />
She wasn't sure she would ever get to see Dusty again, but even if she never did... she had made a friend that day she would never forget.<br />
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<br />
Alesha paced from one side of the kitchen to the other, again and again. There was still no sign of anyone coming up to the house, but she continued to slip glances through the window. She hoped the rest of their guests weren't as antsy as she was.<br />
<br />
Finally, ten minutes after she'd sent Lilobot down to the laboratory, the door to the house rattled open and Alesha's anxiety plummeted... only to peak again when she saw that Lil was alone.<br />
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"Where's Brad?" she asked hastily before Lil had a chance to open her mouth; she wasn't able to answer that either, because Alesha cut her off again. "He's... he's not coming, is he."<br />
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"I... No." Lilobot looked away and uncomfortably rubbed the back of her head. "He said he is too busy. To be honest, I do not think he understood anything I said to him. He is just... so absorbed in his work. I am sorry, Mrs. Kane."<br />
<br />
"No, Lil, don't be sorry--it's not your fault."<br />
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<br />
"Are you going to be okay?" Lil asked, unsure what else to do.<br />
<br />
"I'll be fine, just go keep the guests busy for a few more minutes, alright? I just... I just need a minute."<br />
<br />
"Of course--just inform me if you need anything else."<br />
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<br />
A few minutes later, Alesha emerged from the kitchen composed and smiling, a candle-lit cake in her hands.<br />
<br />
Everyone--consisting of grandparents and siblings--began singing the traditional 'Happy Birthday' tune, and after the cake was settled Alesha lifted Korva from her chair and prepared her to blow out the candles.<br />
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<br />
As Alesha watched the flames flicker away and her daughter go one step closer to leaving her an empty nest, a small seed of doubt sprang to life in her mind.<br />
<br />
She had seen a doting, if not romantic, husband devolve into a shell of a man over the last few months--and she was not sure how much longer she could make excuses for him. Korey was able to eat her very first slice of birthday cake, and where was her father? So consumed with his goal that he'd forgotten the reason he had had it in the first place: the love for his family.<br />
<br />
She knew Korva, bright and blunt, would ask sooner or later where her father had been... And unfortunately, Alesha could only think of one thing she could truthfully answer:<br />
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<br />
She didn't know.<br />
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<br />
Lilobot had put this off for far too long. It had been ages since she had logged into any of her online RPGs, and she'd even taken less and less hours at Mr. Norman's auto shop to avoid the inevitable. She could only keep it up for so long, though. She had to reveal the truth to Tanner.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, he had bought all of her excuses of why they couldn't meet previously. She'd conveniently "been out of town" since he'd been transferred to Twinbrook, but there was only so long she could be visiting pretend family. So, they arranged a date to meet.<br />
<br />
Tanner was going to get more than he bargained for, though.<br />
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<br />
Lilobot walked into the bistro's dining area and immediately saw him. She was late, but only by choice; he had to be the one there first. She felt horrible, making him wait, but she felt even worse when she finally arrived and saw him looking forlornly at the empty chair across from him.<br />
<br />
"This is such a bad idea," she uttered to herself, but there was no turning back, now.<br />
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<br />
She approached the table slowly, waiting for Tanner to notice her--which didn't take long.<br />
<br />
"Oh--Lilobot, hi," he said with his usual cocky smile. "Fancy seeing you here... Didn't think simbots needed to eat."<br />
<br />
"I--well, it is not important. May I sit down?"<br />
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<br />
"Actually, I'm kind of waiting for someone--it's my girlfriend, you see... she should be here any minute, and... well, I'd prefer if you weren't here, I'm not exactly sure how she feels about. You know. Your... kind."<br />
<br />
Luckily for Tanner, a scowl was hard to read on Lilobot's face. Her kind? Hmph.<br />
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<br />
"Well... that is sort of what I'm here about, actually," she said slowly, picking her words as carefully as she could.<br />
<br />
"You're... here about Lily?" Tanner was quite confused.<br />
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After a moment, though, he stood quite suddenly from his chair, a look of panic on his face. "Wait, has something happened to her? Oh, plumbob--please... tell me she's okay."<br />
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"Oh, she is fine," Lilobot wheezed. Every motor function in her body slowed drastically, painfully, at the way he continued to remain oblivious. "Don't worry."<br />
<br />
"Then... what?" The look of confusion in the lines of his face made every moment anguish for Lilobot. She cared for him--deeply--but the calm before the storm was more than she could bear. The thunder, the lightning, the wind... even the wreckage afterwards she could handle--but no, not the waiting torment.<br />
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It was time to end it. "Tanner--I'm Lily."<br />
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Tanner froze.<br />
<br />
"That... that isn't possible," he said after several moments. "Lily's a human. A... red-haired, pale, blue-eyed woman. I've seen her--I've seen pictures--"<br />
<br />
"... Fake."<br />
<br />
"No... No. You're lying. This is a joke--and it's not funny, Lilobot."<br />
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"I know it is not funny, Tanner--I... I never meant for this to happen. I was just so scared, I did not know what else to do... and once the lies started, I just could not stop. I am... so sorry."<br />
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"This... this can't be happening. I'm--I'm in love with--with someone that doesn't exist?"<br />
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"No--no, I do exist... most of what I told you was true! And my feelings for you--they're real!"<br />
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"Your feelings? Feelings?! You can't have feelings--you're... you're a machine! A computer inside a walking tin can! Computers, calculators, simbots... they don't have feelings, they can't love!"<br />
<br />
"But... what is a brain but the electrical circuits inside it?" Lilobot put simply, trying to remain as calm as she could. "They are the same--what they are made of... it does not matter."<br />
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"Yes--yes it does, Lilobot! Even if you can feel the same things I do... How are we supposed to show them? I mean... you're a robot! I want children, Lil! Even the... the act of making children is impossible, with you! Don't you get that?"<br />
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"But.. but why is that important, if we love each other--"<br />
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"You don't get it! This just... this can't work!"<br />
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"But I--"<br />
<br />
"No. This... this conversation is over. This relationship is over, if there even was one to begin with. Not only are you... what you are... but you lied to me. Countless times. I... just no.
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"I am... so... so... sorry, Tanner," Lilobot wheezed into her hand, hiding what little emotion her hardened face could display. Again, her cold shell failed her; even if she could feel what she said she felt, there was no true way for her to show it.<br />
<br />
"You know what--I'm not. You could have done me one last favor, and told me one last lie. 'Cause now, I wish you had come here to tell me she died... I can't imagine it would feel worse than this. This... this is..." Lil looked up into his eyes; they were red, as if he too were on the brink of tears he could not shed. "Unforgivable."<br />
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He began to turn to leave, but after a moment, he stopped, as if suddenly remembering something incredibly important.<br />
<br />
"It seems stupid, now, but... I got a present for Lily--I mean... I guess, for you. You may as well have it, 'cause I sure as hell don't want it, now." He nodded towards the wicker box several feet away. "It's over there, under the flowers and... and the duck."<br />
<br />
The pain in his face was something no machine could misread: pursed lips, watering eyes, and eyes that could find no solace in anything they made contact with. It was forced, but with the gaze of a betrayed man, he looked up into Lilobot's golden optical sensors and uttered his last, "Goodbye, Lil."<br />
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She felt no desire to watch him go--especially knowing that she would remember it perfectly, til the end of her days--but it wasn't until she saw his car pull away with the speed of a man who no longer cared for his safety that she was able to peel her eyes off him.<br />
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Lilobot's gears made a small tired, sad noise; she was wrong. There was a worse feeling than the calm before the storm. This was all, entirely, her fault.<br />
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With nothing else left to do, she turned down and looked at the rather large chest Tanner had brought to the bistro. "You shouldn't have," she muttered to an invisible and still-loving counterpart, but her words came out more bitterly than she intended.<br />
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Carefully, she moved the duck and the flowers to the ground, and opened the latch to the box with a heavy mixture of curiosity and dread.<br />
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"Mrowr?"<br />
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"I..."<br />
<br />
Speechless. Of every gift she had ever been given, this overshadowed them all beyond comparison--so much she almost wished for Tanner's return so she could properly thank him. She knew, she would never be able to--but perhaps, somehow, he knew that this was more than she could ever have asked for.<br />
<br />
Carefully, she held the small feline up to her head. The name 'Spot' glistened on the heart-shaped tag on his neck. Simple, but effective. Spot and Lilobot. Lilobot and Spot. Lilospot. ... She could get used to this. "Well, Spot--I guess you will be needing a home," she expressed quaintly, cocking her head to the side. He purred; she purred back. Well... whirred. Same difference, really.<br />
<br />
It was bittersweet, but as much as holding him in her arms hurt that inside her which you may call a 'soul', it was one of the happiest moments of her life. Knowing, in that moment, she would no longer be alone.<br />
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<blockquote>
It's been a while since I've written a post this long, eh? o_o So much crammed in, my gosh!<br />
<br />
This was a fun episode to write, for many reasons! First: the debut of pets! WOO! Second: the inclusion of the Lawrence Equestrian Center from Equus Sims! Thank you to Christina and Rachel for letting me use it and their sim-selves! (Though I totally forgot to download the 'lease' horses so the horses in this post are just randoms from AP. I'll have to fix that next time. XD) Margo will be visiting the LEC quite a bit when she gets older, which I'm quite excited about. :3 What can I say, I am a crossover junkie.<br />
<br />
As a bit of news: our initial plans for the move have changed a bit. My hubby's gone to Winni to start his new job and look for a place to live, and I'm staying back at our house until then. I'll definitely be gone by the 1st of Dec, since our renters move in then (I'll be staying with my mother in law if we don't have a place by then) so, I am gonna probably whip out one or two more posts for you guys since I don't have much else to do. My goal is to have Margo a teen before Christmas, so... Let's see if I can make it!<br />
<br />
PS - Yes, Spot's name is a reference to Data's cat from TNG. No teasing!</blockquote>
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<br /></div></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-87888375600176561422011-11-11T18:00:00.000-08:002011-11-11T18:00:00.531-08:00Self ImageThere is two ways to look at things: life as a simbot is incredibly easy, or incredibly difficult.<br />
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Today was bordering on the 'incredibly easy' side of things. Her energy capacitors had finished recharging at exactly 6am; she was oiled and cleaned by 6:30, at which point she moved to the main house to manage her nanny and maid duties until Alesha arrived home at 2. Mr. Norman didn't need her at the auto shop until 6pm, so unforunately, she had gotten herself into a bit of a pickle.<br />
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"I'm too efficient," she sighed as she counted the 439th spot on her ceiling.<br />
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When she had first been created, everything in the world was new and exciting for Lil, but there was only so much information to absorb before there simply was nothing else... and for a machine as curious and adventurous as Lil, it meant life was becoming awfully dull. Even her online RPGs and mounding stash of books couldn't keep her occupied. now.<br />
<br />
So, she set herself to the task she still hadn't conquered: becoming <i>human</i>.<br />
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There was a reason this was her last resort, though: it was <i>hard</i>. Try as she might to learn how to act human, there was one unpassable fact she couldn't get around: The fact that she didn't even <i>look</i> human.<br />
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Everywhere she went, it was the same old tale. Though many people in town had gotten used to seeing a simbot walking around, there were still many that had not--and often times all she had to do was walk into a building for everyone to immediately exit. All she wanted was a night out dancing, but nothing cleared the Steel Stallion like a steel woman walking through it's front doors.<br />
<br />
Ironic.<br />
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The strength, efficiency, and speed of her shell that many envied was nothing more than a burden to her. Many craved her nigh invincibility, but she craved to know what it was like to float along the surface of water. To feel the sting of a passing bee. To pick out her own clothes in the morning. To sweat after a brisk morning jog... To taste her first kiss.<br />
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She had tried everything to seem more human. She had learned the language, the mannerisms, the emotions... but it all meant nothing, to her, because of her face. Lilobot had tried all sorts of things to try to hide it, to change it, but in the end, it was no use.<br />
<br />
No one could fall in love with a metal smile. Especially not Tanner Grey.<br />
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Margo slobbed some more paint onto her brush, then wiped it slowly across the canvas in front of her. She scrunched up her nose when she saw the result; yeah... that didn't look right.<br />
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"Aww, your sun looks really pretty, Margo!" Veronica blurted out excitedly as she finished her drawing and snuck up behind her friend.<br />
<br />
"Oh... it's supposed to be my mom..." Margo turned a rather rosy shade of red as she looked at what she'd painted. "Guess I shouldn'ta made her so lellow, huh."<br />
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Meredith tried not to chuckle at her granddaughter--instead, she turned to Lil to look at her progress. "I really am <i>so</i> glad you and the girls were able to make it, today," she said idly as she inspected Lil's work. "Feels like it's been ages since I've gotten to see any of my grandchildren. I hope you're enjoying yourself, at least?"<br />
<br />
"I am not entirely certain," Lilobot responded after a brief pause. "I am endeavoring to master the art of 'creativity', but I am finding it quite difficult."<br />
<br />
"Well, what seems to be the problem?"<br />
<br />
"I started this picture, but... I hit this point, and now I don't know how to finish it. I'm--<i>stuck</i>."<br />
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"Well... I think I might know what your problem is," Meredith said with a weak smile, resting her hand on Lil's elbow. "You're not creating from--how do you put it--<i>within</i>."<br />
<br />
"What do you mean?"<br />
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"Sweetheart..." Meredith said as gently as she could. "Look at the painting behind me."<br />
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It took a few moments for Meredith's stiff old limbs to catch up after Lil, who had quickly fled the room out of embarrassment. "Lil--wait up, will you?"<br />
<br />
"I am sorry, I just... want to be alone."<br />
<br />
"Codswallop. Lil, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Why are you so upset?"<br />
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Lilobot's head hung from her shoulders. "I am hopeless. How could someone ever love me, if I am so in-human I cannot even create anything remotely unique?"<br />
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Meredith snorted. "Oh that's a load of hooie. There are <i>millions</i> of humans who can't make art of any kind on this planet--and they all still manage to find someone to love them. Besides... You <i>are</i> loved, missy."<br />
<br />
"Yes, but--"<br />
<br />
"You see this? Look at this, Lil," Mere stated proudly as she whipped out her wallet, dangling her photos in front of her. "Tell me who's in these pictures."<br />
<br />
"That is... Owen, Sally, and Gracie--and that is Margo... Korva... wait--me? Why am--"<br />
<br />
"Because you're my <i>granddaughter</i>, you silly girl. Maybe not the typical sort, but my son put just as much love into making you as he did into making my other two girls--certainly put more <i>brains </i>into it. But you're part of this family, whether you like it or not--so stop actin' like no one will love you, because we've already proved you wrong."<br />
<br />
"But--"<br />
<br />
"Hush! Hush hush hush! Now go back in there and play with those girls--I don't wanna hear one more peep outta you until you realize what art is <i>really</i> about: fun!"<br />
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<br />
Several hours later, the Kane's outdated clunker pulled back into the driveway, and all the girls erupted loudly from the garage with laughter and squeals.<br />
<br />
"You can't catch meeee, you can't catch me!" Kenzie hollered as Veronica followed in hot pursuit, trying not to bump into Lilobot on their way out into the yard. "Bet I can beat you to the treehouse!"<br />
<br />
"Nu uuuhhh!"<br />
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<br />
"You can put me down now," Margo said softly from her spot atop Lilobot's shoulders. "Thank you for carryin' me, though."<br />
<br />
"You are welcome, Margo--it really is no trouble."<br />
<br />
"I know, butcha dinnit have to... And you didn't have to take us to Gramma's studio. It was real sweet of you!" Margo slowly began to move one of her legs off to the side, but as she bent lower she leaned in close to Lilobot's 'ear'. "Ya know... If it makes ya feel any better--I can't paint, either."<br />
<br />
"I--oh. ... Thank you, Margo."<br />
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<br />
Before Lil could finish lifting Margo off her shoulders, though, Bradley emerged from the undergrowth around the garden--quite obviously furious.<br />
<br />
"Where have you been all morning, I needed your help aligning the emission coils!"<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry, Mr. Kane, your mother called and offered us private room at the studio, and Alesha said it would be good for us to--"<br />
<br />
"I don't <i>care</i>, Lilobot! I expect you not to neglect your duties just so you can go off and pretend to slosh paint around on some sort of impromptu play-date with my mother!"<br />
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<br />
"Mr. Kane, I really am sorry--it won't happen again... I just wanted to... experiment."<br />
<br />
"And what do you have to show for it? Your chassis is practically <i>ruined. </i>You're going to need a full detail before I can let you back in my lab. What did you do, fall into a paint bucket?!"<br />
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<br />
"No, Daddy--it was my fault," Margo whispered sheepishly from behind her. "I-I... I tripped, and bumped into a shelf Gramma had some paint on. I'll help her clean it off--I <i>promise</i>."<br />
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<br />
"<i>I--</i>well. Fine." Even Brad didn't have it in him to rebuke Margo for her natural clumsiness, especially in front of her friends. With an irritable sigh, he waved his hand and turned to leave. "Just get it done before you girls go off to play, I need Lilobot's help before she goes to work--understood?!"<br />
<br />
"Y-yes Daddy," Margo whimpered behind her clasped hands. As she cowered, both of her friends put their hands on Margo's shoulders; but no one looked as surprised and grateful as Lil, whose face fell as it turned to gaze at her little 'sister'.<br />
<br />
For whatever reason, Margo had lied. Perhaps out of love, perhaps out of sympathy--but either way, Lil knew one thing for certain. She would never see Margo as a coward, again.<br />
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"But as she pieced the puzzle together," Alesha said slowly as she looked down at the huddled children by the fire. "She realized, to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was the very room in which she was sitting. And the figure in the center of the puzzle, as she completed it, was herself. With trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces and stared in horror at the puzzle."<br />
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<br />
Below her, all three girls sat, transfixed-- but none so much as Margo, who looked as if she was going to disappear and hide in the tent at any moment.<br />
<br />
"What <i>was</i> it?!" Kenzie uttered, her eyes wide.<br />
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<br />
"In the picture, she saw herself sitting at the kitchen table--and in the window behind her was the face of a crazed madman, grinning and holding an axe poised to swing just above her head! Terrified, the lady didn’t dare to turn around."<br />
<br />
... "The last thing that the young lady ever heard... was the sound of breaking glass."<br />
<br />
GASP!<br />
<br />
"... Alright--goodnight, girls! Sleep tiiiight!"<br />
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<br />
"Ha.. Hahaha! That was... that was great... Real scary, huh?" Margo watched her mother disappear into the house with a tremble on her lip. She found the urge to chase after her, since she didn't want to seem like a pansy in front of her friends.<br />
<br />
"Eeeh, not really," Veronica responded with a shrug. "My dad has a book of mummy stories from Egypt--they're <i>so</i> much scarier."<br />
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Kenzie let out a small giggle of excitement. "Ooh, you mean Beneath the Pharoah's tomb?! I <i>love</i> that book! It's soooo freaky!"<br />
<br />
"Ooh, you've read it?! Ah man, it's the best!!"<br />
<br />
Margo slowly began to sulk as she listened; she tried to hide it, but after hearing the tale about the puzzle killer, it was hard to put on a fake brave face.<br />
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<br />
"Oh man, you want to borrow it Margo?!" Veronica suddenly asked, turning to Margo with bright eyes. "I don't think Penny would mind if I lent it out--"<br />
<br />
"Noo, that's okay..."<br />
<br />
"Margo, you should <i>totally</i> read it!" Kenzie exclaimed. "It's scary, but it's a <i>good </i>scary! Besides, we're like, <i>thousands</i> of miles from Egypt, so there's nothing to be afraid of!"<br />
<br />
"Well..." Margo hesitated. "I guess I could get my mom to read it to me..."<br />
<br />
"Aww, but it's so much better if you read it when you're by yourse--"<br />
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<br />
"I can't."<br />
<br />
Everyone froze for a moment. Margo rarely spoke with that kind of firmness, let alone cut anyone else off, so both Veronica and Kenzie sat and stared at her with wide eyes until Margo got the courage to continue.<br />
<br />
"I... I-I can't read."<br />
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<br />
Veronica was the first to speak up. "You can't? But... I see you do it in class all the time!"<br />
<br />
"I was jus' pretending," Margo mumbled, her chin hanging to her chest. "I knew errybody would look at me if I asked for help, so I dinnit. I fine-ly told my mom, though, and we went to the doctor's--he thinks I'm dykslezzic. Means my brain doesn't see the words right, I guess."<br />
<br />
After a few more moments of silence, Kenzie reached out a hand to pat Margo on the shoulder. "Why didn't you tell us after class or something, then? We would have helped you!"<br />
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<br />
"I-I-I..." Margo's words fell into stutters, and then into sobs; she quickly stood from the ground to try and escape, but both other girls were right there with her, preventing it. "I jus' don' want you guys feeling more sorry for me than you already do."<br />
<br />
"What do you mean?"<br />
<br />
"Th-that's why you guys are friends with me, innit? That's what errybody else says... That you guys are just nice to me because you feel bad for me."<br />
<br />
Kenzie and Veronica sent each other a confused look. "That's not why we're friends with you," Kenzie finally said firmly.<br />
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<br />
"Th-then why? Y-you both are so much smarter, and braver, an-and <i>everything</i> than I am--"<br />
<br />
"You're smarter and braver than you think you are," Kenzie put her foot down. "Besides, who <i>cares?!</i>"<br />
<br />
"We like you because of who you <i>are</i>, Margo, not what you're <i>good</i> at," Veronica said with her eyes averted away. "You never ask for anything, you're so nice to <i>everybody</i>... I mean, it's not like <i>we're</i> popular, and you still like <i>us."</i><br />
<br />
Kenzie nodded. "Everybody just sees me for my glasses and my... weight," she said, then bit her lip.<br />
<br />
"And everybody just tries to copy off my quizzes<i>, </i>but the second I help them, they just turn around and talk bad about me behind my back. My sister told me," Veronica sighed.<br />
<br />
"But you don't care about <i>any</i> of that stuff, Margo. You've just liked us for... us. I mean, look what you did for Lilobot--you lied to your Dad so she wouldn't get in trouble, and I know how much that scares you. Who wouldn't want a friend willing to do that for them?!"<br />
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<br />
Margo was taken aback. "I just... didn't wanna see her get hurt..." she mumbled and shrugged.<br />
<br />
"Exactly. And we know... you'd do the same for us." Kenzie smiled shyly as she tried to catch Margo's fallen gaze. "We don't want to see you hurt either. We're gonna help you with your reading."<br />
<br />
"Y-you really don't have to... my mom is th-thinking about getting me a tutor..."<br />
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<br />
"So?" Ronnie said earnestly. "Nothing says we can't help, too. I bet we know what would help you more than some tutor would."<br />
<br />
"Unless you don't want us to," Kenzie added.<br />
<br />
"No, I do," Margo said with a sheepish shrug. As hard as it was to see how easy it was for her friends to read compared to her, she'd rather <i>they </i>helped her than someone she'd never met before. "As long as you're patient.. My mum said it's gonna be hard, 'cause my brain's workin' against me the whole time."<br />
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<br />
"Hard, shmard," Kenzie smiled as she tackled Margo with a hug. "You work harder at everything than anybody I know--if anybody can do it, it's you."<br />
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<br />
Several hours later, Margo scrunched her nose at the morning dew that seeped into her socks while she walked across the lawn. It was the closest she'd ever been to being barefoot on the grass, and with no rubber boots to shield her from pointy rocks or hungry centipedes she couldn't help but squirm at what a strange sensation it was.<br />
<br />
And yet, as the day dawned and she recalled what her friends had said before they'd fallen asleep, Margo had never felt more brave.<br />
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<br />
She looked over the sleepy town with curious eyes. Every day, she had looked out the window from this hill, thinking only of how small she was in such a big world. Today, though, it was the town that seemed small--everything finally seemed just as it was. No tricks, no illusions.<br />
<br />
Just like she was finally starting to see herself.<br />
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<br />
"I know you can't hear me," she said softly as she looked out across the clear sky, unsure of what she was expecting to see. "It's prolly better that way, anyways. There's just sumfing I wanna tell you, just in case you're listening, somehow."<br />
<br />
She didn't know why she wanted to say it this much, but it felt important; and somehow--she believed--they would know what she said. She would never stop believing in what magic could do. "I know you feel alone, but if I can find someone who likes me for who I am, then so can you."<br />
<br />
"And even if you can't," she finished, her fingers clasped tightly. "You'll always have me."<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Yaaaay auto posting! Thank you for making my life easier. ^^ I hope all you future-selves are doing well, and if not, I hope things get better! Hopefully NaNoWriMo is going well for all you participants--if you even have time to read this, hehe. (Oh, and happy 11-11-11, lol.)<br />
<br />
As for this post--no, I can't say who Margo is talking 'at'. Yes, it is someone specific, in my mind... But I felt it was better to leave it ambiguous because there are so many people it <i>could</i> be. Feel free to guess, but I'm not saying exactly who--for now, it's an open letter to all who need to hear it. :)</blockquote></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-60517358888122042172011-11-03T21:07:00.000-07:002012-03-13T14:18:18.617-07:00On the Move!Hey guys!<br />
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<br />
Soo... Yeah! You may remember that a while back I said my hubby and I were preparing for the possibility to move to come up in the future--and well, it did! He officially has been hired at a position in Winnipeg, starting November 20th!<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, that means we have just under 3 weeks to get there, so I'm going to be MIA for a bit. We have to get our house in good shape for someone to rent, and we have our first prospective renter coming in this Tuesday to take a look at the place... Less than a week to get my house immaculate looking? *panic*<br />
<br />
But, I am really excited and it's a huge step for my hubby, so now that the shock is wearing off I'm feeling really good about it. Panicked, worried, and stressed, but also excited!<br />
<br />
So, notes:<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cfe2f3;"><i>Desperate Sims</i></span></b> has one story post ready to go up while I'm gone; two once I finish getting the screenshots of Margo's visit to the LEC (thank you, Christina!). Lucky for me I played a *ton* once Pets came out so I was able to get that for you guys, plus a few nights in a drunken stupor I was able to write. (Haha.) Obviously I won't be around to respond to comments, but DS won't be a ghost town while I get settled in in Winnipeg.<br />
<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cfe2f3;"><i>Dipped</i></span></b>, however, I've been unable to get anything written for because a) I really, reaaaally wanted to play with Pets and b) I've decided to do a bit of a crossover with someone! I'm not sure how much it might change my original plans for the first part of Dipped, but just in case, I decided to hold back until my lovely crossover gal is done with NaNoWriMo and we both have time to hammer out the details. :3<br />
<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cfe2f3;"><i>For those with Tumblr</i></span></b>, I'm gonna be queueing a bunch of random screenshots of the Kane family's antics for while I'm gone, so don't get all confused. ;)<br />
<br />
I'll probably still be around a little bit for the next week, but I probably won't be doing much of anything except trying to wrap up some loose ends on things I'm working on. Unfortunately, after that... I honestly don't know when I'll be back. We may need to stay in a hotel the first few days/weeks we're in Winnipeg, and even once we find a place and get settled in, the last thing I'm going to want to do is work on Sims stuff. I tend to take a few steps back from my hobbies every time I move to try and get to know the area and recooperate, so, worst case scenario, I won't be working on my stories until after the new year.<br />
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But, hopefully I will be back to you guys in early December! In the meantime, all of you that are doing NaNoWriMo--best of luck!! You're gonna need it! And to my readers and fellow bloggers--I'll miss ya! I'll be back to you as soon as I can, I promise. :3<br />
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Til then, cheers!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-90145809090545138972011-10-18T03:09:00.000-07:002011-10-19T17:33:29.325-07:00Trick or Treaty"Veronica and Kenzie are going to be here any moment, dear--are you sure you don't want any help getting your costume on?"<br />
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A few muffled grumbles came from the other side of the door before she finally got her response. "Nooo, I got it..."<br />
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Alesha took a deep breath as she waited as patiently as she could for her daughter. Recently, Margo had become much more independent--unfortunately, it was not quite the blessing Alesha had hoped it would be. She was obviously trying to compensate for her inability to read, but it was beginning to cause issues. The most every-day tasks were suddenly becoming a lot more difficult than usual, because Margo still had trouble doing even the most simple things--but now she was refusing help with any of them.<br />
<br />
Still, it was probably a good thing. Margo would never learn to conquer these problems if she didn't do it on her own--but such as in this case, she was trying to tackle things most kids her age <i>couldn't</i> do. It was nearly impossible to button up a costume with giant fairy wings as an adult, much less a child with short little arms.<br />
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Finally, though, after nearly a half an hour, Margo emerged from her bedroom looking incredibly triumphant. Alesha was even opening her mouth to congratulate her... when she noticed a problem.<br />
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"Sweetie... don't you want to change your shoes?"<br />
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Margo looked down, confused. "No... why?"<br />
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"Well... they don't really fit with your costume, do they? Fairies don't wear rubber boots."<br />
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She blinked slowly, obviously still puzzled. "Why not?"<br />
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Alesha was fighting an uphill battle, but it was a totally pointless one. "You know what," she said with a smile, kneeling down and placing her hand on Margo's shoulder. "I have no idea. I think it's about time I see a rubber-boot clad fairy on Halloween!"<br />
<br />
The look of pride on her daughter's face was worth every word--but before either of them could say anything else, a gentle ring came at the door.<br />
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"That must be your friends!" Alesha exclaimed, nudging Margo towards the door. "Go on, answer it!"<br />
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"TRICK OR TREAAAAAT!"<br />
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Margo let out a small gasp of surprise before bursting into giggles. "You guys are silly! I love your costumes..."<br />
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"Aw, thanks!" Kenzie exclaimed proudly, her chest puffing up a little. "My mom helped me put it together! I've always wanted to play a princess."<br />
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Veronica looked a bit bashful, but was equally as excited. "We got mine on one of our trips to Barnacle Bay." Ronnie looked down and gave a bit of a confused stare at Margo's boots; but remembering that she'd never seen Margo <i>without</i> them, she exclaimed, "You look real pretty!"<br />
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The girls trotted inside all aflutter over each others costumes, closely followed by a tall, smiling man that approached Alesha with a friendly hand extended. "Mrs. Kane! A pleasure to finally meet you. Phillip Grant--Veronica's father."<br />
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"Oooh, yes yes!" Alesha responded with a smile, reciprocating the handshake enthusiastically. "I must say, my mother in law speaks highly of you. I... er, nice costume."<br />
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"Thanks--my wife sure seems to enjoy it," he said jokingly with a broad smile. "Sorry I can't stick around and chat, I'm taking Veronica's sister and her friends trick-or-treating up around our street--I just figured I'd pick up Kenzie on the way to drop Veronica off since I was already halfway here."<br />
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"You behave for Mrs. Kane, alright?" he called out who his daughter, who responded with a quiet giggle and a 'Yes, daddy' before he gave Alesha a polite nod, and closed the door on his way out.<br />
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"I <i>toldja</i> we were gonna fill our bags super fast on this street!" Kenzie said matter-of-factly as the girls stood quietly on the sidewalk, idly watching the other kids from school milling between each house. "My mom brought me here last year, there's lots of grammas and grandpas who like to spoil kids rotten."<br />
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Veronica's expression turned a little smug. "I counted 56 pieces in my bag before Mrs. Kane took it back to the car. My sister's gonna be sooo jealous."<br />
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Kenzie smirked. "I'm <i>already</i> jealous. I can't believe you counted them that fast!"<br />
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Looking a little embarrassed, Ronnie shrugged and said, "I'm just good with that sorta thing, I guess."<br />
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Margo looked longingly at Veronica, but didn't say anything. She knew it wasn't fair to be envious, but she couldn't help it; Ronnie was smart. <i>Really</i> smart. She picked up on everything incredibly fast--there were even rumors the only reason she was still in the same class was so she could stay with her sister. It wouldn't have been that bad, but Kenzie was pretty smart, too. Not quite in the same way, but she had a particular knack for figuring things out quickly even if she wasn't as 'book smart' as Ronnie was. It gave them something in common that Margo didn't share, which made things a little awkward. They both absorbed knowledge like sponges absorb water; Margo was about as absorbent as a limp noodle.<br />
<br />
She wasn't going to let this spoil her night, though. 364 days a year she felt silly for dressing up and playing pretend, but Halloween? It was like a holiday made specifically for her. ... Minus the ghost, ghouls, and haunted houses. And the pumpkins. And the... okay, so it was a stretch--but she still wasn't going to let their smartness get her down.<br />
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"We could probably keep going," she mumbled softly, as probably the bravest thing she'd said all week. "My mum'll catch up to us with the extra bags soon, I bet."<br />
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"That's a great idea!" Kenzie said brightly. "I'm startin' to get bored waiting."<br />
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Margo immediately regretted her suggestion. Kenzie and Veronica looked positively thrilled to be going at this adventure without supervision, but Margo was beginning to miss her mother more and more each step they took.<br />
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"Guuuyyss," she said, her voice shakey. "Maybe we should stop... It's taking her an awful long time to find us."<br />
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"We're fiinne!" Kenzie remarked bravely. "My house is one block over, and I'm sure she'd call you if she was worried!" Beside her, Veronica agreed with a small nod.<br />
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However, it wasn't long before Kenzie and Veronica's opinion began to change. The street sign didn't read what Kenzie thought it would, and it was apparent pretty fast that they were lost. The conclusion left Kenz and Ronnie looking rather frightened, and Margo almost to the point of tears.<br />
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"Maybe we <i>should</i> go back," Veronica said abruptly after jumping quite high at something she thought she saw lurking in the shadows.<br />
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Kenzie, however, was determined. "No, no, I'm pretty sure my house is just around the corner! Stop worry-ing!"<br />
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"Guuyyss... I'm scaaaarreeed..."<br />
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"RAAAAAWWRR!!"<br />
"AAAAAAAH!"<br />
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The first thing Margo thought next was that her vision was incredibly blurry. There was also a strange tapping sensation on her shoulder. Thud. Thud. Thud... Someone's foot was poking her.<br />
<br />
"W-what happened?' she stuttered, coming to quite rapidly.<br />
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"Y'all became a bunch of frickin' chickens, is what happened," came a voice that Margo immediately recognized as Ian's. "Pudge and Know-It-All ran off the second they saw me--and you... You <i>fainted</i>," Ian said with a devilish laugh.<br />
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All of Margo's fear was suddenly replaced with total embarrassment. "Don't call my friends names," she mumbled as she got to her feet, doing her best to avoid eye contact.<br />
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"Whatcha gonna do, cry me to death?" Ian said with a roll of his eyes, but when he realized that she actually <i>was</i> beginning to cry, his shoulders slumped at his sides. "Aw man, come oonn, don't be such a baby..."<br />
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Margo tried very hard to take his ill-mannered advice, but it was no use; her eyes were well beyond the welling-up phase.<br />
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Just as she thought things couldn't get worse, though, a sudden shuffle of branches and leaves sounded from a nearby bush; only moments later, a girl from their class erupted from it.<br />
<br />
"Ian, I put the eggs by the back porch, it looks like the Turner's went to sleep for the--hey, what's <i>she</i> doing here?!"<br />
<br />
"Her and her friends were walking past--the other two ran off when I spooked 'em, though."<br />
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"And you didn't wait for me? Bugger, I've always wanted to give the Geek Squad a good scare."<br />
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"Hey," Ian snapped, his face scrunching up in anger. "Don't call 'em that, alright? She's standing <i>right there</i>, ya know."<br />
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"So? Hasn't stopped <b><i>you</i> </b>before."<br />
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"Well... I don't care, Wren. Just don't. She didn't do anything to you."<br />
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"Whoa, what's gotten into you? She your girlfriend now or somethin'?"<br />
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"Just shut <i>up</i>!" At Ian's raised voice, Wren finally backed down--though she sent a solid, dirty look in Margo's direction. "I'll meet you at the Turner's in ten minutes, alright?"<br />
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"<i>Fine</i>... Just so long as <i>she's</i> not with you."<br />
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"She won't be. Now buzz off."<br />
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As Wren disappeared from whence she came, Ian turned to Margo to say something--but he stopped when he caught her sniffling into her hands.<br />
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"Margo... Pleeaaase, could you please not cry?"<br />
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"W-why?" Margo sniffled, slowly beginning to walk away. "I thought you liked it."<br />
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"Well... It's kinda funny, yeah, but--" She sniffled, causing him to groan. "--Aw come ooonnn. Seriously?! Margo..."<br />
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"Juz go 'way."<br />
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Ian reached out his hand and carefully grabbed her by the arm, which she recoiled from--but it did cause her to stop. "Hold up a sec... I swear, I didn't mean to upset you. I was just tryin' to give you guys a bit of a scare, alright?"<br />
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She looked at him, puzzled. "Why?"<br />
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"'Cause... It's Halloween? And it's fun?" Margo looked unconvinced, so he sighed and continued. "I... guess I don't know. It's just what I do."<br />
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Margo wasn't sure why, but Ian continued to follow her as she walked down the sidewalk towards where she assumed Veronica and Kenzie ran; she occasionally worked up the nerve to ask him why he was still with her, but the second she opened her mouth all her courage evaporated.<br />
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"Ya know... I really am sorry, Margo," he finally said, out of no where.<br />
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"... Why?"<br />
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"Sheesh, is that the only thing you know how to say?"<br />
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He immediately regretted his choice of words. "What I mean is--frick, why do you make this so difficult?! I just am, okay? I just wanted to tell you, I'm not gonna be mean to you anymore. Or... I'm gonna try."<br />
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She didn't even have to open her mouth all the way for Ian to know what her next question would be. "It doesn't matter, alright? I'm just bored with it. That's all."<br />
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As they turned the corner, Margo spotted her mother--closely followed by a princess and a pirate--but Ian was still by her side, so she stopped and gave him a long, rather confused look.<br />
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"Marrgoooo, come here honey!" Alesha called from the distance, but Margo didn't turn and move away immediately.<br />
<br />
Instead, she gave a long, puzzled look into Ian's eyes, and uttered: "You're really not gonna be mean to me anymore?"<br />
<br />
Ian paused. In a way, his words had been a crutch, to try and get her to stop crying--but at the back of his mind, his conversations with Alesha continued to float... along with the wrenching pain in his gut he had felt when Wren had called Margo a geek. So--bravely--he took Margo by the arms and nodded. "I can't promise, but... I'll try."<br />
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There was an awkward silence, after that; boy looking at girl, girl looking at boy, and a menagerie of emotions and confusion on both sides that made them both want to run away screaming as much as they both kind of wanted to smack each other. But, to Ian's surprise, Margo didn't. She stayed.<br />
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"Ya know... your make-up is really creepy," she finally said with a small cringe, eyeing the length of his costume.<br />
<br />
"Thanks," he said, obviously quite proud of this fact. "I guess... your hair isn't as poofy as it usually is. It looks... pretty?"<br />
<br />
"Thanks."<br />
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"Well... I better go. See ya round, I guess." Margo said with a brief smile, before, with a shy shrug, she turned from his side and began running down the sidewalk towards her mom.<br />
<br />
It wasn't much of a step, but in the end... it was probably the biggest one he had ever taken. Why she trusted him, he would never understand--but at least, for now, a solid weight had been lifted from his conscience. Margo really <i>was</i> more forgiving than he had ever imagined.<br />
<br />
"Yeah," he said slowly, a weak smile spreading across his own cheeks. "See you 'round."<br />
<br />
<blockquote>
Just a short little Halloween themed post to give y'all something while I focus on Dipped for a little while, as well as get my game all set up with Pets!<br />
<br />
This post is sort of a "special" because I literally had no plans to do this until Amelia suggested it to me the other day, so I put it together over the last couple of days even though it diverts from the storyline slightly. I hope you all have a WONDERFUL set of holidays! Happy Simming! <3</blockquote>
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-78506206983976388162011-10-12T23:43:00.000-07:002011-10-13T06:29:18.523-07:00Short: Caged<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T5N57ssoMNE/TpJrge-_eCI/AAAAAAAAWz0/l5bgv4KiFUw/s1600/Screenshot-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T5N57ssoMNE/TpJrge-_eCI/AAAAAAAAWz0/l5bgv4KiFUw/s1600/Screenshot-24.jpg" /></a></div><br />
She could feel his eyes on her.<br />
<br />
No, not sense them--<i>feel</i> them. It was a gaze that traveled from her worn shoes up the length of her prison uniform to the messy splay of hair she no longer wished to deal with. He didn't know it, but she could see what he saw--feel the fear that he felt. She knew he was looking for her lips--her teeth. Looking to see if everyone was telling the truth... if she really was a vampire.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYZ4-hGOHhs/TpJrijU_QlI/AAAAAAAAWz4/vsx5PBsIZmM/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYZ4-hGOHhs/TpJrijU_QlI/AAAAAAAAWz4/vsx5PBsIZmM/s1600/Screenshot-22.jpg" /></a></div><br />
"Go, or I <i>will</i> sink my teeth into that scrawny little neck of yours," she spat, remaining motionless from her position on the bed.<br />
<br />
"I--I'm just bringing you your food," the new night watchman stammered, the bundle in his hands nearly trembling out of his grip. "I--I didn't mean to-"<br />
<br />
"Just leave it on the floor."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tskq63ovqbA/TpJrn78lEYI/AAAAAAAAW0A/xfwYtW4woAY/s1600/Screenshot-33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Tskq63ovqbA/TpJrn78lEYI/AAAAAAAAW0A/xfwYtW4woAY/s1600/Screenshot-33.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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"You think I <i>can't</i> break through those bars and break your spine?!" she snarled as the boy still continued to stand at her cell, gaping at her as she carefully lifted herself from the bed. "GET OUT!"<br />
<br />
They often sent the freshest police academy graduates down to see Amelia. It had become some sort of game; they let her initiate some of the more egotistical recruits in exchange for them not coming and spitting at her during their breaks. Probably a fair trade, but it had come far too late. She had long since lost the ability to forgive them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Es3Fo9YQjA8/TpJrqjNWmLI/AAAAAAAAW0E/9yh_JLlGs1Q/s1600/Screenshot-25a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Es3Fo9YQjA8/TpJrqjNWmLI/AAAAAAAAW0E/9yh_JLlGs1Q/s1600/Screenshot-25a.jpg" /></a></div><br />
As he scurried away--and she dived hungrily for her food--she briefly recalled the one time she had actually wished she could have<i> </i>broken free.<br />
<br />
They were cruel, her captors. Even her fellow inmates. It didn't matter that Amelia had never once pierced flesh with her fangs; the mere fact she could, that she had brought this dreadful disease into their peaceful, quaint town of Twinbrook, was enough for them to despise her existence. If she had murdered two men accidentally because of her appetite for blood, what more would she be capable of if she put her mind to it?<br />
<br />
<i>Much more</i>, she savored as the juice of the sour plasma fruit dripped down her cheek.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j2-s-lz2XJ8/TpJrtcw6YvI/AAAAAAAAW0I/duh2HNdelD0/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j2-s-lz2XJ8/TpJrtcw6YvI/AAAAAAAAW0I/duh2HNdelD0/s1600/Screenshot-20.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Suddenly, Amelia recoiled from her unexpected lust for retribution; the fruit dropped to the floor and her body hurled itself against the back wall of the cell violently.<br />
<br />
"No," she whimpered aloud. "You need to fight this... You're stronger than this!"<br />
<span id="fullpost"><br />
In a way, she was--at least, she was now. Before she'd been thrown inside this cage, she had been <i>anything</i> but strong. Weak, emotional, infantile... but no more. Prison had changed her, in ways that nothing else in life ever could--even this wretched virus. Every day, her humanity was stripped from her inch by inch, taking from her everything but the smallest glimmer of hope: a photograph. Her last anchor to her life outside this place.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDL9hT5TAR0/TpJrv-088qI/AAAAAAAAW0M/jpVKuliEGtc/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wDL9hT5TAR0/TpJrv-088qI/AAAAAAAAW0M/jpVKuliEGtc/s1600/Screenshot-15.jpg" /></a></div><br />
She fell to the floor and turned to look at it, but to see that face looking back at her brought only shame. "I'm so sorry, Naomi," Amelia gasped from lips no longer able to sob. "I didn't mean to let you down."<br />
<br />
The sound of footsteps approaching broke her concentration on Naomi's unmoving face. "What is it?" she growled when the footsteps stopped in front of her cell, reaching a hand to wipe the plasma juice from her chin.<br />
<br />
"Clean yourself up--you have a visitor."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WlbyAXPba9M/TpJrx39xMKI/AAAAAAAAW0Q/qtopagK7in8/s1600/Screenshot-38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WlbyAXPba9M/TpJrx39xMKI/AAAAAAAAW0Q/qtopagK7in8/s1600/Screenshot-38.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The "walk of shame", some called it, was something that Amelia dreaded every time she had to be let out of her cell. There weren't many inmates in Twinbrook's tiny prison, but every one of them knew her name and her crime--as everyone in Twinbrook did--and any time they got to see her they let out a ringing call of humiliating, sexist jeers. They were the kind of low-life scum that even her father would never hire.<br />
<br />
"Knock it off, idiots," one of the cops sneered in a rather poor effort to defend her. "Don't make me tell you again."<br />
<br />
She didn't mind so much today, though--she was willing to put up with anything, to see her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaeUQYG1tO8/TpJrzZwBnhI/AAAAAAAAW0U/5IpnIQcMR5E/s1600/Screenshot-47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qaeUQYG1tO8/TpJrzZwBnhI/AAAAAAAAW0U/5IpnIQcMR5E/s1600/Screenshot-47.jpg" /></a></div><br />
To see Naomi.<br />
<br />
"Heeeey, what fine minx is that?!" As she walked past each booth filled with inmates and their visitors, Naomi got her own barrage of cat-calls--but these were far different than the ones Amelia received. Heads turned almost any time Naomi entered a room, but these men had no problem offering whistles and beckons as well--but for a woman like her, they were easy to ignore.<br />
<br />
She definitely wasn't there to see any of them, and she only had one thing on her mind.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KUez7WsTaGc/TpJr1luyqcI/AAAAAAAAW0Y/2IGonOyUm3I/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KUez7WsTaGc/TpJr1luyqcI/AAAAAAAAW0Y/2IGonOyUm3I/s1600/Screenshot-41.jpg" /></a></div><br />
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"It is you... You came. You actually... came." Mia's voice was weak, but full of painful joy.<br />
<br />
"Of course I did, silly... Why would you think I wouldn't?"<br />
<br />
Amelia opened her mouth, but immediately shut it; Naomi didn't need to know about the games some of the less-that-noble guards liked to play with her.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gQ6ILvxzzzw/TpKwhPPT1jI/AAAAAAAAW0o/qnKlYYIeIF0/s1600/Screenshot-74.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gQ6ILvxzzzw/TpKwhPPT1jI/AAAAAAAAW0o/qnKlYYIeIF0/s1600/Screenshot-74.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Quickly, though, that train of thought was lost. Naomi. <i>Naomi.</i> In this colorless hell she'd been exiled to, Naomi was like an angel of mercy. Just seeing her face--her <i>real</i> face--made Amelia's heart come to life in ways she thought it had forgotten to move.<br />
<br />
"You're lookin' a little rough there, sweetness," Naomi said with a small smile as she looked down across the table at Amelia. "Forget to brush your hair this morning?"<br />
<br />
"I--uh--er, yeah... I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming."<br />
<br />
"Amelia. Honey. I'm just teasing... you look beautiful."<br />
<br />
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Naomi gracefully settled into the seat across the table. It was a little difficult to hear Amelia through the dratted speakers they had in lieu of the glass halfway between them, but since it was the tail end of the visiting hours for the day, the other inmates were quickly departing and leaving the competition for sound at least a little better.<br />
<br />
It didn't make this any less awkward, though. "So... How you hangin' in there?" Naomi asked, trying to sound at least moderately upbeat.<br />
<br />
Amelia shrugged. "Better, I guess. Been a rough couple of weeks, but," she looked behind her, to make sure no one was listening. "My dad came to see me a few days ago, managed to have a word with some of the guards to get them to be a little more... friendly."<br />
<br />
"Better than nothing, I guess," Naomi sighed, sending a rather dirty look through the glass at a distracted officer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FV-aqw6Kl5E/TpKwmhl7YBI/AAAAAAAAW0w/B5rszWudBDU/s1600/Screenshot-54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FV-aqw6Kl5E/TpKwmhl7YBI/AAAAAAAAW0w/B5rszWudBDU/s1600/Screenshot-54.jpg" /></a></div><br />
"What about you?! Did you get the promotion?" Amelia asked, the corners of her lips turning up slightly.<br />
<br />
"As a matter of fact... They're putting me on a jet and sending me to Barnacle Bay for a bit of corporate mind-numbing brown nosing, but when I get back I get a shiny new Vice President plaque on my door."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z65eO5m2N-4/TpKwptZ9bII/AAAAAAAAW00/C6yVuUuWVmc/s1600/Screenshot-53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z65eO5m2N-4/TpKwptZ9bII/AAAAAAAAW00/C6yVuUuWVmc/s1600/Screenshot-53.jpg" /></a></div><br />
"Oh Naomi... That is <i>amazing</i>," Amelia squealed, even letting slip a little bit of her Southern drawl in her excitement. "Baby, I am <i>so proud </i>of you. They should've given it to you months ago, but at least they finally saw what they had in their pockets all along."<br />
<br />
"Thanks, love," Naomi responded with a wry smile. "Alesha and I are going out to celebrate tomorrow night, but... It just won't be the same, without you there."<br />
<br />
"I... I know." Amelia took a brief pause, before asking the question that she knew Naomi dreaded. "So... Have you talked to your brother lately?"<br />
<br />
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"Amelia..."<br />
<br />
Her heart sank. "What is it."<br />
<br />
Naomi took a deep breath. "Well... I did talk to Lamont, yesterday. There's been some... complications." When Amelia didn't respond, Naomi's gaze dropped towards the table, where she began to carefully scratch at a small indent on the surface. "Bradley had a little bit of a breakdown. Tossed all the others out on the street. He's still working on the cure, but he probably isn't going to get much of anywhere until he lets them come back."<br />
<br />
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"No... No, no this can't be happening," Amelia murmured, her eyes frozen wide open in horror.<br />
<br />
Naomi frowned. "Honey, I'm sure he'll come to his sense soo--"<br />
<br />
"No, no you don't <i>understand</i> my brother, Naomi. He's smart, but he's also a right stubborn git. We may as well put a death sentence on me right now and get it overwith."<br />
<br />
"Sweetie--"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNqMxExf9OsbhJCJ78d506ndjPu5geHhmFPdzNwMKoJamZM0MwbyPpT6NWMLeDY9hTWO967naui6yVpQtFxixqmGVm4nfp1V9CiWseYc8_ZKG-c4997Y8NE7yNkKNmRUEhikss5aTfwQ/s1600/Screenshot-65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNqMxExf9OsbhJCJ78d506ndjPu5geHhmFPdzNwMKoJamZM0MwbyPpT6NWMLeDY9hTWO967naui6yVpQtFxixqmGVm4nfp1V9CiWseYc8_ZKG-c4997Y8NE7yNkKNmRUEhikss5aTfwQ/s1600/Screenshot-65.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It was too late. For months, Amelia had built up a stone cold, solid exterior, only to be broken down in seconds with one small piece of bad news. "It's <i>over</i>. I'm doomed, Nami."<br />
<br />
"Mia. You are <i>not</i> doomed. This is a setback, nothing more. You hear?"<br />
<br />
"No... No, you don't get it. I've been in here for almost a year, Naomi. A <i>year</i>! Brad promised it'd be done in 6 months, and if he's gotten so frustrated he's even lashing out at his friends... it's hopeless."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z50eMjuKCt4/TpKw1bM_XiI/AAAAAAAAW1E/rWyuOkTSXgI/s1600/Screenshot-66.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z50eMjuKCt4/TpKw1bM_XiI/AAAAAAAAW1E/rWyuOkTSXgI/s1600/Screenshot-66.jpg" /></a></div><br />
"Amelia, don't you <i>dare</i> say that. There is <i>always</i> hope."<br />
<br />
"But what's the use?!" She felt a tear beginning to trickle between her fingers. "I'm dying in here, Naomi. I don't know how much more I can take..."<br />
<br />
"You can take as much as you have to. You may not think you're brave, but you are--and I'm not going anywhere. If I have to, I'll pull some strings and see if I can come see you more often, but you <i>can't</i> let them win, Mia. You can't."<br />
<br />
As Amelia slowly began to nod, Naomi made a come-hither motion from the other side of the glass. "C'mere," she said with a small smile.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zouFLoAUuB0/TpKw31hqndI/AAAAAAAAW1I/uUzaeYVvtwg/s1600/Screenshot-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zouFLoAUuB0/TpKw31hqndI/AAAAAAAAW1I/uUzaeYVvtwg/s1600/Screenshot-75.jpg" /></a></div><br />
"I--I can't, they're right there," Amelia said softly, turning around towards the two guards talking behind her.<br />
<br />
"They're distracted--for now, anyways. C'mon, we don't have much time left."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zr9Quc1QflA/TpKw5eVRexI/AAAAAAAAW1M/YqZVfJyjVV0/s1600/Screenshot-70.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zr9Quc1QflA/TpKw5eVRexI/AAAAAAAAW1M/YqZVfJyjVV0/s1600/Screenshot-70.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Amelia warily eyed the guards for a few more moments, before curling up tighter and pulling herself up onto the table between them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JEULP7JECyE/TpKw8JhwzXI/AAAAAAAAW1Q/zVKyiev0xVM/s1600/Screenshot-69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JEULP7JECyE/TpKw8JhwzXI/AAAAAAAAW1Q/zVKyiev0xVM/s1600/Screenshot-69.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Glass--it was always glass. That nearly invisible barrier between the world she once knew, and the world she remained trapped in, was something Amelia cursed every time she got to see that blessed face. It tortured her with the ability to be near, to see, but never to touch.<br />
<br />
But it never stopped Naomi. Fearlessly, she planted each fingertip against it, and then, finally, her lips; Amelia smiled, watching the way her lover's mouth and chin flattened against the invisible wall between them.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tvs6Ea9KZd0/TpKw-gRkssI/AAAAAAAAW1U/SN4-cl6yQ1g/s1600/Screenshot-68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tvs6Ea9KZd0/TpKw-gRkssI/AAAAAAAAW1U/SN4-cl6yQ1g/s1600/Screenshot-68.jpg" /></a></div><br />
What was left over, though, was something more than just a smudge of lipstick on a windowpane. It was more than an act of bravery, or will, or desire. In reality, it was all these things--but Amelia saw it as something much less tangible. It was an imprint of hope, like a wish upon a falling star; and, above all...<br />
<br />
... A promise: that someday, somehow, she would receive it.<br />
<br />
"I love you," she whispered softly, pressing her fingertips against Naomi's.<br />
"I know," was her response, eyes still closed to hide her pain. "And I love you."<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr /><br />
<br />
Naomi could walk a million steps in heels and still make the next one look dignified. It wasn't that she didn't feel the pain: she just didn't show it. Not with heels... not with Amelia.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RwDN2p1k0Xk/TpQJpQRpw7I/AAAAAAAAW2I/rZJ2I3vfW1U/s1600/Screenshot-77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RwDN2p1k0Xk/TpQJpQRpw7I/AAAAAAAAW2I/rZJ2I3vfW1U/s1600/Screenshot-77.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Her car was back at the office, but she had no desire to face any staff that might be working late. They all always had too many questions: How was Amelia? How'd she take the news? Is the HVV getting worse? They all meant the best, but she'd rather walk 30 miles in heels than lie through her teeth to people who had no business asking about her personal life.<br />
<br />
At least she <i>didn't</i> live 30 miles away.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gfIuYCYe1rc/TpQJreUnZXI/AAAAAAAAW2M/Wdbh1z22S0c/s1600/Screenshot-81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gfIuYCYe1rc/TpQJreUnZXI/AAAAAAAAW2M/Wdbh1z22S0c/s1600/Screenshot-81.jpg" /></a></div><br />
But her head hung lower and lower the longer she walked. The more distance she got from Amelia, the more her mask faded. She would never dare to let Amelia see; she had so little hope, how worse would she be if she knew Naomi had none either? But, for years, Naomi had carried the banner as the strong one... and she was getting tired.<br />
<br />
She barely even registered when a cab slowed, its driver calling out to ask if she needed a ride; naturally, she declined. Naomi never took help, even when it was offered.<br />
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<i>What's the use, though, </i>she asked herself behind clenched teeth. <i>You can't do this alone, forever.</i><br />
<br />
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She entered their empty, quiet house and tossed her keys onto the table by the front door. The lights all flared up at once, but even the array of colors that Amelia refused to get rid of didn't give the sense of warmth Naomi needed tonight.<br />
<br />
With a heavy sigh, she kicked off her heels and stretched. It'd been almost a year, and Naomi still hadn't gotten used to making meals on her own... Delivery again tonight, it would seem.<br />
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She made a quick call to Hogan's diner for that pizza she knew was going straight to her thighs--and then let out a small gasp when she took a long look at her coffee table.<br />
<br />
"I'm so sorry, Hootie, you must be starving," Naomi consoled Amelia's fondly named blowfish as she dumped in more fish-food than poor Hootie knew what to do with. "Mia'd kill me if she found out I forgot to feed you..." ... if she even still remembered he existed.<br />
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Things had changed so much since Amelia's trial--Amelia herself most of all. Every time Naomi saw her, something was different; from the smallest dimples in her cheek to the fact she didn't even remember that Naomi's birthday was only a couple of days away. The old Amelia would never have forgotten...<br />
<br />
At what point did she know if the girl that had entered prison was still going to be the same one that exited? No--that idea was preposterous. She definitely wouldn't be the same... but would Naomi still be able to love this woman?<br />
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Naomi tried to imagine it, but it was simply impossible. Even though Mia had begun to grow in many good ways--she was definitely much less fragile than she used to be--there were still so many things she couldn't predict. Their relationship had withstood so much, but there was a breaking point for everything.<br />
<br />
It was worth holding to, though. Beneath the pain of the empty home was still the memories lurking beneath it's surface: the sunburn Mia had gotten her first time falling asleep on the deck, when she popped her scooter's tire and together they had to try and figure out how to fix it... even the first time they lay underneath the sheets together, watching the stars through their window.<br />
<br />
"I miss you more than you know," she spoke aloud to the forest surrounding their home.<br />
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Naomi turned and walked inside. The piano... it had stood silent since Amelia had gone. Part of the joy of their relationship was the music they created together--without the sound of her guitar, the keys felt cold under Naomi's fingers.<br />
<br />
But as she sat down, fingertips draping the ivory and her bare foot clutching the pedal, Naomi couldn't bear the silence any longer.<br />
<br />
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Her mother taught her never to cry. Amelia had accused her many times of being emotionless, vapid, and cold... but her piano knew her better than that. For Naomi, music was her sobs and her tears--but tonight, she would be the only one to hear them.<br />
<br />
Her, and those stars.<br />
<br />
<iframe width="640" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/AvYy861P_mI?hd=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Best viewed in HD.)</i></div><br />
Naomi's hands fell away from the keys--and for the first time in many, many years, she began to cry.<br />
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Amelia was there in every room through Naomi's memories, but she couldn't help but feel that every moment, Mia was beginning to fade further and further away.<br />
<br />
Maybe Mia really was dying slowly inside her cage--but where no one else could see... Naomi was as well.<br />
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-80942207827006831762011-10-05T14:57:00.000-07:002011-10-05T15:07:07.840-07:00A Work in ProgressThe last bell thundered off through the concrete halls of Twinbrook's school, and with it a slew of children billowed away from classrooms with backpacks and books in tow. It was pretty impressive, how fast they all funneled out of the building; some stayed behind for extra-curricular activities, but as soon as they reached their destinations the school seemed a bit like a deserted outpost amidst the hustle and bustle of town.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, though, not everyone got their freedom as fast as they'd like.<br />
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<br />
"I'm here for detention, Mrs. Kane," Ian Pesce grumbled as he re-entered the classroom, his expression quite down-trodden. It was obvious this was the last place he wanted to be, but something about Mrs. Kane made him very wary of skipping out on his punishment.<br />
<br />
"Take a seat, Ian," she responded lightly from behind her computer, the keyboard still tap-tappitying away. "I'll be finished in a moment."<br />
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<br />
When she finally shut down her computer and stood up from the desk, Ian got up from his as well. "So, am I writing lines? Like Bart from the Sim-sons?" he asked sarcastic.<br />
<br />
Alesha smiled. "No, nothing like that. I'm pretty sure that sort of thing's not going to work on you. Today, we're actually going to try something a bit different: we're going on a field trip."<br />
<br />
"A... field trip? For detention?"<br />
<br />
"Well--sort of. I'd like to talk to you, but I'm pretty sure we're both sick and tired of sitting in this musty old school, right?" When he slowly began to nod, Alesha grinned and pointed towards the door. "C'mon, let's take a walk."<br />
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<br />
The first few minutes were a little awkward. Ian trailed a couple of steps behind his teacher, increasingly tempted to bail as much as he was increasingly curious why she was being so nice to him. Clearly, he'd done nothing to deserve it--and it really puzzled him.<br />
<br />
Finally, as they rounded the bend next to Hogan's Diner, Alesha spoke up. "So... what's your deal?"<br />
<br />
"Deal?"<br />
<br />
"Your attitude. I've been giving you all the chances I can, but you just don't seem to want to take any of them. You're obviously much smarter than you've been acting... So, what's the deal?"<br />
<br />
"I... I dunno."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"Is there something bothering you about my lessons?"<br />
<br />
"... No."<br />
<br />
"Did Margo or anyone else do anything to provoke you?"<br />
<br />
"Er... no."<br />
<br />
"So... you're just being a big pain in the butt because you can?"<br />
<br />
Ian stopped for a moment. Besides his siblings, no one had ever talked to him like that before. Certainly no adult ever had--much less a teacher. It caught him off-guard, but something in the tone of her voice sounded... different. She wasn't talking down to him--she was just being <i>candid</i>. "Well... I don't know. Sorta."<br />
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"Well, unfortunately, that's not a very good reason, Ian," Alesha sighed as they descended the steps down towards the beach. "You're going to have to give me better than that."<br />
<br />
"There isn't better," he mumbled.<br />
<br />
"Of course there is. Look, Ian. I've seen you doodling the answers to problems on the sides of your papers, I've noticed you getting antsy while I'm trying to teach the rest of the class. I can tell--you're bored. You're too smart for this class. I was thinking about discussing this with your parents, but I wanted to ask you, first--would you want to be bumped up a grade? Get some more challenging things to learn? I know it might be hard at first, but I think you'd--"<br />
<br />
"No."<br />
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<br />
"Ian, if you stay in my class you'll be wasting a lot of potential that--"<br />
<br />
"<i>Potential?!" </i>For the first time, Ian whirled around and actually made eye contact with her. "Why, so I can be even <i>more</i> out of place than I already am? I'd skip the baby stuff and move onto multiplication tables and fatter books so what, I can <i>still</i> be three steps behind my brother and sister?"<br />
<br />
"Ian, calm down, I didn't mean to--"<br />
<br />
"No! I'm sick of it! You wanna know why I'm so <i>mean</i> to everyone? Because it's the only thing I'm <i>the best </i>at! Ethan's soooo smart and soooo talented at everything he does--and Sophie's sooo popular<i> </i>and sooo good at sports. But me? I'm nobody. And I'm <i>tired </i>of being ignored. It's my turn to be special! I don't care how!"<br />
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<br />
Alesha scowled. For a moment, she considered comforting him--but she knew that would get him nowhere. She highly doubted that Moe and Jane were ignoring their child as much as he claimed they were--but whatever approach they were taking clearly wasn't working... so it was time for something a bit different.<br />
<br />
"So what, you're going to give up on everything else because you might not be quite as good as someone else? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?" Alesha snorted in disappointment. "Giving up on something you enjoy because you aren't 'the best' is a really, really cowardly thing to do, Ian. I thought you were above that."<br />
<br />
"Well... I'm not," he responded, forlorn.<br />
<br />
At this point, Alesha was actually starting to get frustrated. "So, this is why you pick on Margo over everyone else? Because you're so low you have to bring down someone who actually has to work <i>really</i> hard for what they have?"<br />
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<br />
"No--no," Ian responded, quickly. His ashamed, guilty expression quickly evaporated the moment Margo entered the conversation--he even turned back around to face Alesha, again. "I mean, not really. It's... complicated."<br />
<br />
"Oh, I have time," Alesha scoffed, entering Over-Protective Mother Mode.<br />
<br />
"It's just... Margo's <i>different</i>. Like me. Kinda... weird, and not really good at anything." Ian frowned as he shoved his shoe-tip deeper and deeper into the sand. "But if even <i>she </i>makes friends, and I can't... then that'll show how even <i>more</i> I suck at everything. So I... just... don't really want her to make friends, I guess."<br />
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<br />
"Ian," Alesha began to ask with a bit of a smile on her lips. "Did it ever occur to you that if you made friends with <i>Margo</i>, then you'd <i>both</i> have someone?"<br />
<br />
"I--uh--er..." Ian froze. Oh snap. "I... guess not... But--I dunno. Margo would never like me--"<br />
<br />
"--Because you're mean to her--"<br />
<br />
"--and we don't really have anything in common--"<br />
<br />
"You've already said something big you both have in common, Ian--you both are a bit different than everyone else. Maybe in unique ways, but honestly, good friends don't have to have a lot alike. Between the two of you, you could learn a lot from each other."<br />
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<br />
"Yeah, but it's kinda too late <i>now</i>--she <i>hates</i> me," Ian shrugged.<br />
<br />
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that, actually. She's really nervous around you, is all." For good reason. "If you apologized... you never know. Margo's a very sweet girl who would give anyone a chance if they asked for it--and if <i>you</i> gave<i> her</i> a chance... I think she might actually like you."<br />
<br />
"You really think so?" His voice was edged with disbelief, but there was a bit of light in his eyes when he asked.<br />
<br />
"Yeah. I do."<br />
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<br />
After a few more moments of silence, the two plopped down onto the sand and began flipping rocks into the water; it was a strange activity, for student and teacher, but after their conversation a level of understanding had fallen between them. Suddenly being on the same page had increased their respect for one another. Even Ian didn't feel so bad about having detention, anymore.<br />
<br />
"So, everything you do is because you're really just jealous of Margo?" Alesha finally asked, a quizzical brow raised.<br />
<br />
Ian shrugged. "Well... kinna. It's pretty fun to see how fast I can get her to cry, sometimes, too."<br />
<br />
"Ian," Alesha gasped, sending him a potentially lethal glare. "That's <i>horrible.</i>"<br />
<br />
He giggled and tossed another rock in the water, listening to the splash with a satisfied, cock-eyed smile across his face. "Yeah, but at least I'm good at it."<br />
<br />
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<br />
"How's that last batch coming, Tom?" Lamont called across the room as he looked up from his beaker. "I've just finished dissolving the next solution of tiberimate for you."<br />
<br />
"It's alright, if you want to give everyone cancer before you cure their bloodlust. The ratio of tiberium is still a bit too high--the rate of mutation on these samples is growing faster than that ridiculous puff on your head."<br />
<br />
"Heeeyyy, I can take a hint! No dissing the hair, either--if my wife hears about it, she'll come after you, dude."<br />
<br />
"Dude, my wife could <i>so</i> take your wife."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, not after all the--"<br />
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<br />
On the other side of the room, Bradley was trying his best to ignore the younger men's immature bantering. He'd finished calibrating the settings on the latest model of the tiberimate infusion device; it left Brad with a little bit of free time to check up and see how everyone else was doing...<br />
<br />
... and get on their nerves. "That figure is unacceptable," Bradley grumbled over Moe's shoulder, glowering fiercely at the computer screen. "If we have to give a patient several infusions over that period of time for them to be cured, my sister will be stuck in prison until my daughter is old enough to drive a stick shift. You need to find a dispersion scenario that allows us to get it done all at once.<br />
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<br />
"Excuse me?" Moe stopped what he was doing, and gently rolled himself away from the computer to face Brad. "Do you have a degree in neurology?"<br />
<br />
"No, but--"<br />
<br />
"I know you want your sister cured, but it won't be much good if we fry her brain in the process. Even if a single infusion model could be done safely, it's entirely possible it could revert her entire brain chemistry to how it was right before she was bitten. Do you honestly want to rob Amelia of several years of her life? Her relationship with Naomi? And that's if it <i>didn't</i> turn her into a vegetable."<br />
<br />
Bradley scowled. He didn't want to admit it, but Moe was right; Amelia would rather stay in prison for the rest of her life than lose that. "Fine. But try to get the time frame to something less ridiculous."<br />
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<br />
Bradley turned rapidly to go inspect what the other two were probably messing up, which nearly caused him to thunk right into Lamont. The look on his face was tainted with worry; Lamont was usually a very easy-going person, but the past few days he'd been quite tense around his Boss. In fact, <i>everyone</i> had.<br />
<br />
"Brad... are you sure you're okay? I know the doctors told you you were fine but you just... seem a little off, since the accident."<br />
<br />
"I'm fine, Lamont. They did a full body scan and a full blood work-up--besides a little fever from this bug I caught from Margo, I'm just peachy."<br />
<br />
"You just... don't seem it, ya know? In fact, you look quite... <i>not</i> peachy. Like, super pale."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2k_L15ZFqDU/Tovv1_9pNXI/AAAAAAAAWvM/LAGB9Q1FOec/s1600/Screenshot-335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2k_L15ZFqDU/Tovv1_9pNXI/AAAAAAAAWvM/LAGB9Q1FOec/s1600/Screenshot-335.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Lamont. I. Am. <i>Fine</i>. Could you please stop worrying and get back to work?!"<br />
<br />
"No, Brad, I think Lamont has a point." Moe had come up from behind him, also taking a rather strong interest in Brad's appearance. "You're looking quite a bit off color. The bags under your eyes, the fever--you <i>really</i> need to sleep. This flu's going to murder you if you don't get some rest."<br />
<br />
"I am <i>just fine</i>, Moe. Can you please leave me al--"<br />
<br />
"Moe is right, Brad--you should really get some rest, you've been down here non-stop for days... Don't worry--we can handle things without you for a while."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sUNN5_T_icA/Tovv5SRKJ6I/AAAAAAAAWvQ/D7ndbCC9FpA/s1600/Screenshot-336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sUNN5_T_icA/Tovv5SRKJ6I/AAAAAAAAWvQ/D7ndbCC9FpA/s1600/Screenshot-336.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
That did it.<br />
<br />
"Handle things without me for a while? Are you <i>serious</i>, Lamont?! You can barely function with me here, correcting your every mistake! You all are <i>useless</i>! I don't know why I even asked for your help in the first place--I may as well do this with one brain hemisphere tied behind my back!"<br />
<br />
"Brad, don't you think you're being a little--" Moe began, but he'd never get to finish.<br />
<br />
"OUT! All of you! OUT! This is my property--I'll call the police if I have to. And don't you dare come crawling back until you get some bloody sense into your heads!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8s7kjvJP5s/Tovv8TlZa4I/AAAAAAAAWvU/y5QPVz2HHZs/s1600/Screenshot-337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8s7kjvJP5s/Tovv8TlZa4I/AAAAAAAAWvU/y5QPVz2HHZs/s1600/Screenshot-337.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>"He's</i> the one that needs the 'bloody sense'," was mumbled under Thomas's breath as the three men slowly began to vacate the room. They each continued to mutter things to each other, looking over their shoulders at Bradley in some last hope that his breakdown was all some sort of sick joke.<br />
<br />
"I can hear you," Bradley growled, not even turning to watch them go. "Don't make me tell you again. <i>Get</i>. <i>Out.</i>"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Several minutes after Bradley heard the rumble of their cars leaving the driveway, a sort of peace began to settle over the small laboratory. Everything seemed a little bit clearer; he knew he'd overreacted, but Brad was still quite certain that he'd made the right decision asking them to leave. They weren't taking this as seriously as they should. Mistakes left and right, weeks of progress wasted following their convoluted ideas... Time that his sister had to sit and stare at a set of bars fit for an animal at the zoo.<br />
<br />
As Bradley passed by a nearby mirror, though, he couldn't help but stop and examine his complexion. He <i>did</i> look a little off... but he didn't feel it. He'd never felt more energetic in his entire life--in fact, he hadn't even <i>needed</i> to sleep the past few nights, he felt so invigorated.<br />
<br />
Besides: it was time he didn't have to spare. He had work to do.<br />
<br />
<br />
<hr />
<br />
<br />
Even though Alesha loved being a teacher, this part of her job was incredibly tedious. Check paper, click name, enter grade.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qljBHL81QJE/TowHT037hvI/AAAAAAAAWv0/krIy7HdNCxY/s1600/Screenshot-341.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qljBHL81QJE/TowHT037hvI/AAAAAAAAWv0/krIy7HdNCxY/s1600/Screenshot-341.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Luckily enough, she was able to do this all from home. Her little 'detour' with Ian had proven to be fairly productive--although probably the first of many detentions to try and talk some sense into him--but it had left her with a stack of grading to do far later into the evening than she'd planned.<br />
<br />
"Verionica Grant... done. James Hale... done. Kenzie Howell... done."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R-UzH2fhsKg/TowHVx7BjCI/AAAAAAAAWv4/sWyKoG0ilpQ/s1600/Screenshot-342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R-UzH2fhsKg/TowHVx7BjCI/AAAAAAAAWv4/sWyKoG0ilpQ/s1600/Screenshot-342.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Wait--what?" Alesha stared at the screen in disbelief. That <i>couldn't</i> be right. She flipped through the papers on her left; sure enough, what she was looking for wasn't there.<br />
<br />
And it wasn't the only one.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"Pixie, look up! We're approachin' the Planet Immadabbubble! Change the heading to 25 dash 74 dash 10, and switch to ippulse engines! Better buckle up, it's gonna get bumpy in their apposphere!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GJuI0VYCvjg/TowHdJHYEQI/AAAAAAAAWwA/w5BKpgGSw1Y/s1600/Screenshot-351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GJuI0VYCvjg/TowHdJHYEQI/AAAAAAAAWwA/w5BKpgGSw1Y/s1600/Screenshot-351.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Kathunk-kathunk-kathunk--Pixie, prepare the shubble craft! We're heading down to the planet surface! Brrrrrrrrrr, whirrrrrrrrrrrrr, kashhhhhhhh!"<br />
<br />
"Margo, do you have a minute? I need to talk to you."<br />
<br />
"I think I see some sort of cotton based vebetation, the lack of trees suggests a pethera of ubbivores--oh look, Pixie, I think I've spotted exxatestrials! Over there, in the distance!"<br />
<br />
"Margo--"<br />
<br />
"I think it's trying to communicate! Switch to universal transmation mode!"<br />
<br />
"<i>Margo!</i> NOW."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vrMJlZPCHY8/TowHg-vdV3I/AAAAAAAAWwE/0y-aaZYEYUY/s1600/Screenshot-353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vrMJlZPCHY8/TowHg-vdV3I/AAAAAAAAWwE/0y-aaZYEYUY/s1600/Screenshot-353.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Awwwww, man, and we just discovered a new planet," Margo said, defeated by Alesha's Mother Voice.<br />
<br />
"You can come back to it later, sweetie. I'm sorry, but this is important."<br />
<br />
Margo had already figured that out, though; the expression on her face had fallen to one of pure dread, which made Alesha pretty sure that she knew what was coming. "O..o...okay."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"Margo... why haven't you been turning in any of your assignments? There's a few from the first week of school, but everything else--did you forget to hand them in?"<br />
<br />
"... No," she mumbled, scuffing the ground with her shoe. "I <i>tried</i> to do 'em... I just didn't understand."<br />
<br />
"Aw honey, why didn't you say something? Why don't you go get your homework and show me what you don't get, okay? Asking for help isn't anything to be ashamed of."<br />
<br />
"Okaayy...." Margo tucked Pixie away and stumbled off to get her homework, but clearly, she didn't really believe a word her mother said.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WyjGofperM8/TowHnz9-boI/AAAAAAAAWwM/8l_nWAQKFTk/s1600/Screenshot-362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WyjGofperM8/TowHnz9-boI/AAAAAAAAWwM/8l_nWAQKFTk/s1600/Screenshot-362.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Alright, so, this question here about the story we read in class--why do you think Mr. Elderson didn't like having children run across his lawn?"<br />
<br />
"'Cause his lawn was the only thing he had to take care of."<br />
<br />
"Good--now what about number two--why did Mr. Elderson warm up to Tilly over the other children?"<br />
<br />
"She brought him seeds for his favorite flowers to plant in his garden."<br />
<br />
"Great! See honey, this isn't that hard! You're doing fine!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FjX3OuUTXNg/TowHrbI3PsI/AAAAAAAAWwQ/3fAQrMEZ5v0/s1600/Screenshot-367.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FjX3OuUTXNg/TowHrbI3PsI/AAAAAAAAWwQ/3fAQrMEZ5v0/s1600/Screenshot-367.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Now, what about the next one?"<br />
<br />
Margo lifted to paper closer to her eyes, bit her lower lip, and stared at the question for several seconds. "Uh... I. I dunno."<br />
<br />
"Margo, what's wrong?"<br />
<br />
"I don't get it." She looked away sheepishly.<br />
<br />
"Well... read it off to me."<br />
<br />
Margo froze, unable to look at her mother. "I can't."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uDud6SjVQXKs5t0N1N6poNLIAD-kTyFKK_l1jSxzUNXooewxkRDZYX56ljyHPqvxoGCRkE7ZUE1vwq6fhC26r1zgLh-iYBskTOBImEQ1XT03WDOATSH6AFb3KvhjYPL7zHBePnvxsg/s1600/Screenshot-360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uDud6SjVQXKs5t0N1N6poNLIAD-kTyFKK_l1jSxzUNXooewxkRDZYX56ljyHPqvxoGCRkE7ZUE1vwq6fhC26r1zgLh-iYBskTOBImEQ1XT03WDOATSH6AFb3KvhjYPL7zHBePnvxsg/s1600/Screenshot-360.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
"Margo, honey..." Alesha sighed. She was afraid this would happen; Brad had had glasses since he was very young, so there was always a high likelihood that either of their girls would need them as well. "Why didn't you tell me you were having trouble seeing things?"<br />
<br />
But the response Alesha got was not what she expected. "I'm not. I can see everythin' ok."<br />
<br />
"Then... what's the problem, dear?"<br />
<br />
"I... dunno. I look at the words, and they just... don't look right. When <i>you</i> read it it makes sense, but when I try to it's like the letters get all rearranged on me. I think the words are tryin' to hide from me, mummy."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XpnSu-VQL-w/TowHyLo4UmI/AAAAAAAAWwY/FwErv-56TEY/s1600/Screenshot-369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XpnSu-VQL-w/TowHyLo4UmI/AAAAAAAAWwY/FwErv-56TEY/s1600/Screenshot-369.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
Alesha sat in silence for a moment. Guilt washed over her, with the sudden realization that all this time, she'd coddled Margo so much that this had slipped under their noses completely unnoticed. At the same time, though, a pit began to form in her stomach: this wasn't something a trip to the eye doctor could fix.<br />
<br />
"Mummy...are you okay?"<br />
<br />
Alesha blinked, then nodded slowly. "Yes, dear. I'm okay."<br />
<br />
And then, the question she dreaded the most. "... Is something wrong with me?"<br />
<br />
"No, honey," Alesha said firmly, carefully resting her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "You are perfect."
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4909462020307292291.post-50491358279204622902011-10-03T23:47:00.000-07:002011-10-04T15:56:07.095-07:00To Barnacle Bay!Guess what?! Desperate Sims's latest episode--! ... is still not quite finished. Doh!<br />
<br />
I had grandeous plans to get it finished this weekend, but after getting horrendously fed up with my game I did a complete reinstall of my game and cleaned out a TON of CC. It wasn't even CC I'd ever used--it just came with the town of Redcliffs, which I unceremoniously tossed out the door as well because, as cool as it looks, is too darn big and glitchy to play in.<br />
<br />
Now, you might remember, Redcliffs is where Travis and his family moved to... But I didn't want to just leave them hanging. So, I moved them to Barnacle Bay instead! (Story-wise, whether he transferred teams again or moved there originally, I haven't quite decided yet. I'll figure that out as I go.)<br />
<br />
I didn't want to just plop them into town and run off, though, so I spent yesterday evening building them a house! I'm not sure if I'll upload it, yet, but even if not--here's a tour!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e-tnKrauRiE/ToqJkU8cDII/AAAAAAAAWsw/zDBKSa-jG5Q/s1600/Screenshot-246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e-tnKrauRiE/ToqJkU8cDII/AAAAAAAAWsw/zDBKSa-jG5Q/s1600/Screenshot-246.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Front</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6NHEUrpGTgA/ToqJpZbSf4I/AAAAAAAAWs0/Osz5GbbE7QY/s1600/Screenshot-241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6NHEUrpGTgA/ToqJpZbSf4I/AAAAAAAAWs0/Osz5GbbE7QY/s1600/Screenshot-241.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back Patio</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-scI3nnnNhmQ/ToqJukoN2UI/AAAAAAAAWs4/q_2_Zk2bwIc/s1600/Screenshot-265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-scI3nnnNhmQ/ToqJukoN2UI/AAAAAAAAWs4/q_2_Zk2bwIc/s1600/Screenshot-265.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back Patio + Pool</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--bZ4v40DIJ0/ToqJy6mAesI/AAAAAAAAWs8/JKJb9C59meM/s1600/Screenshot-263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--bZ4v40DIJ0/ToqJy6mAesI/AAAAAAAAWs8/JKJb9C59meM/s1600/Screenshot-263.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entryway</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NDnj5YAiRKA/ToqJ3GBYZhI/AAAAAAAAWtA/cE2-wp5-nwo/s1600/Screenshot-279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NDnj5YAiRKA/ToqJ3GBYZhI/AAAAAAAAWtA/cE2-wp5-nwo/s1600/Screenshot-279.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dining Room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jIuF_9BU9bs/ToqJ7Mf-b1I/AAAAAAAAWtE/3t-998LJRSQ/s1600/Screenshot-278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jIuF_9BU9bs/ToqJ7Mf-b1I/AAAAAAAAWtE/3t-998LJRSQ/s1600/Screenshot-278.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kitchen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgRCaA93gfg/ToqJ_QOdJxI/AAAAAAAAWtI/vC6AYTbgSeI/s1600/Screenshot-281.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZgRCaA93gfg/ToqJ_QOdJxI/AAAAAAAAWtI/vC6AYTbgSeI/s1600/Screenshot-281.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Study (right off of kitchen/dining)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tBhYHjErTPQ/ToqKD7eMFHI/AAAAAAAAWtM/v0ngF0oVgT0/s1600/Screenshot-268.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tBhYHjErTPQ/ToqKD7eMFHI/AAAAAAAAWtM/v0ngF0oVgT0/s1600/Screenshot-268.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living Room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uckET3IO5sM/ToqKIarYkII/AAAAAAAAWtQ/t5e5hjXhfV4/s1600/Screenshot-269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uckET3IO5sM/ToqKIarYkII/AAAAAAAAWtQ/t5e5hjXhfV4/s1600/Screenshot-269.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living Room, again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXHvqU1LAXFjCBwwNCd7uzRZF7SXZEymtr8XnFNrNK21KmZ5s1w1rMuNRYdHVfvL49LgxYqqzHvGEQNVWSlwi19dKMMiUJKA_kmmINZWKI_0H_hS93C0NVOjzvw_V2DR9ILSydancUg/s1600/Screenshot-272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXHvqU1LAXFjCBwwNCd7uzRZF7SXZEymtr8XnFNrNK21KmZ5s1w1rMuNRYdHVfvL49LgxYqqzHvGEQNVWSlwi19dKMMiUJKA_kmmINZWKI_0H_hS93C0NVOjzvw_V2DR9ILSydancUg/s1600/Screenshot-272.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Man Cave" (Basement)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other Side of Man Cave</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Master Bedroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Girls' Bedroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boy's Bedroom</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Guest Room</td></tr>
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As you can see, I tried to go for a more 'beachy' theme to fit living in Barnacle Bay; it also gave me a good excuse to use a lot of store content I'd been sitting on. Several of these sets were gifted to me by readers, so thankyouthankyouthankyou to you guys--you know who you are!<br />
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<blockquote style="text-align: center;">
<b>This is officially up for download! <a href="http://www.mediafire.com/?7cv9bxpr0875855">Click here!</a></b></blockquote>
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Now, as for the family...<br />
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Travis is doing well; he hasn't really meshed with his new teammates yet but he's trying to focus more on his family than his work, anyways.<br />
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Unfortunately, he hasn't stopped drinking--and much to Jade's dismay, he's learning how to make his own drinks. She's hoping he steps back before he turns into a full-on alcoholic...<br />
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They are still getting along, though. Travis hasn't relented on trying to fix their marriage--and Jade is slowly starting to put everything in the past and trust him again. She still freaks out every now and then, but she's not turning down his advances, anymore.<br />
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As for Jade--she's starting to consider dropping her career in the military and take up something a little more part-time; she's already starting to look at applying as a personal trainer at the local gym. Money isn't an issue so much anymore, with how much Travis makes.<br />
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Speaking of money--they both rolled a wish to go to France, so once they can afford it they're getting the honeymoon they never had.<br />
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Gracie is growing into practically the spitting image of Meredith, though she's got a bit more the personality of her great-grandmother. She's a Snob, which means she's *constantly* drawn to the table to 'preside over royal court', but since she's also got the Good trait we'll assume she's a fair and just ruler.<br />
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She'll be growing up to a teen soon, but I haven't quite decided what I'll pick for her fourth trait... but you'll have to assume it's something a little gnarly since her other three are quite good.<br />
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Sally's a bit of a trouble-maker, on top of being a bit of a tomboy at this point in her life. She's messy and a little too forward for everyone's liking, but she warms up to most people pretty easily.<br />
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Even though she's not quite as tender-hearted as her big sister, Sally doesn't turn up her nose at her cousin; she's constantly on the phone to Margo, and is currently working on convincing her to come visit them sometime soon.<br />
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Sally's also super closer to her big brother, who finds her antics incredibly entertaining.<br />
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Owen's settling into Barnacle Bay a lot faster than anyone else is, and that's probably because of this gal right here: Fern. They became best friends quite fast, and then she decided to take things one step further--they went on one outing together, and the second she started flirting with him it became a date. I was rather amused by that. ^^ I'm not sure if they'll become "official", though; I think she's incredibly cute, but I'm not sure how I feel about her traits.<br />
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As for Owen--he's thinking about heading into the military, even before school is finished, via boarding school; he's got high hopes of becoming an astronaut, someday, but he inherited his mother's clumsiness so he's not sure if he'll ever make it that far.<br />
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Anyways, that's what's going on with them! (And here's a cute family photo. ^^)<br />
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I'm probably going to be playing with them quite a bit on the side, to keep their ages parallel to my main save, and as a bit of a diversion from doing anything really story-oriented. If you'd like you see what goes on with them, though, I'll probably post quite a few shots <a href="http://kaleekalo.tumblr.com/">on my tumblr</a>.<br />
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And of course, when has there ever been a Kane home built without Meredith behind the wheel? Naturally, she flew out to come help them decorate and settle in. (And yes--there is a copy of the rest of the Kanes living in BB, because I fully expect the family to visit as often as they can!)<br />
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No promises on when the next story update will come out, although I am hoping to get a huge chunk done tomorrow! I've honestly just been enjoying actually *playing* with my Kanes--especially with Travis & Co, who've been quite neglected lately. Hope y'all can forgive me. ;)<br />
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Also, real quick: there's still a few stories I haven't gotten caught up on (namely Six Degrees and Dreams Upon a Pillow, I think there may be a few others though) and I just wanted to let you guys know I plan on reading your posts ASAP! I have been all over the place lately and it's been difficult getting to the stories I love, but I'd rather savor them when I have the time then rush through reading them.<br />
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I think that about wraps it up, so--y'all'll see me again veddy soon! *mwah!*Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13913779863370524491noreply@blogger.com15