::Karen does dance:: Whoo-hoo! I really like chapter eighteen!! So guess what? You'll probably get that pretty soon!! You guys had better REVIEW! I'm not getting ANY! I'm posting a storm and I get, "Oh, yeah, really?" START REVIEWING!!
I did a MAJOR revamp of my Ty outline and Brittany -- WHO DOESN'T WATCH DARK ANGEL! -- gave me the most AMAZING idea ever and I love her to death and I'm calling her and offering to have her children for her so she doesn't get stretch marks. ::sends love to Britterz::
So now I had 31 -- THIRTY-ONE! -- chapters of Ty instead of 58. ::grins:: I so rock. :)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Part .17
The plane I took was relatively un-crowded. Not wanting to draw attention to myself by flying in first class, I took a nice second class seat. I was a bit spiffed, however, to see that I had a middle seat when I specifically requested aisle. I wanted to be aisle so that when something went bad, I would be able to reach the emergency exit that much sooner. Climbing over the fat guy who was sitting in *my* seat didn't sound like a good idea. Besides, the jerk would probably complain.
As I was sitting between the bony broad and the fat guy, both of whom kept elbowing me with respectively sharp and huge limbs, I was filled with what most certainly can be described as snakes in my stomach. I was very apprehensive about meeting Lezli, to say the least.
I guess it was the amnesty of our last meeting that really drove me nuts. She had decidedly gone against my orders to her and the group, and that had lead me to thinking that they were dead for three years. Three years of me not knowing that they were alive; three years of hurting and missing them.
She was a vicious girl. I remembered the flames in her eyes and the venom in her voice and I shivered. She was one to worry about, with wits that would surprise the best of us; even me. It wasn't that she was especially smarter than us, because she wasn't exactly. It was just the fact that if you ever got into a screaming match with her, she would out do you.
Not that we ever had more than a few opportunities for a screaming match. We usually kept our voices done. There were a times when, knowing that if it came to blows we would both get into immense trouble, she had started yelling and yelling and I had yelled back a few things. I, of course, had gotten into trouble. As commanding officer I needed to keep in control of group.
When the lady with the cart and the ugly outfit came out offering beverages, I grabbed myself a margarita. She looked at me as if to admonish me and take back the drink, but I gave her a cold stare and she left me alone. She left muttering to herself about losing her job serving alcohol to preteens and she didn't mind giving kids a few drinks now and then if they had at least hit puberty.
Well, she ought to go down to New Orleans or San Francisco one of these days. They have strippers there eleven, twelve years old, and no telling how old the prostitutes are under all that make-up and, in the case of San Francisco, leather. Perhaps she herself had been one. She had a nice figure and would probably make a few bucks, maybe even a little more if she got rid of the jiggly around her thighs. Then again, men paid good money for those that jiggly.
I had five more margaritas by the time the flight ended. I was disappointed to not get drunk. Oh, I had a slight buzz going and all, but I just kept going and going with the drinks and I knew I wasn't drunk. Idiotic Manticore had taken away my ability to have fun. I wondered if Mom had that and drank for the hell of it, or if she honestly got more than this slight warming of the middle.
I went to a sleazy Motel Nine to sleep it off. It wasn't Motel Six, by any standards, but if I told the roaches which side of the room was theirs I knew that I wouldn't have any problems. I pulled down the covers to check for critters, then I took a nice, cold shower. It wasn't really by choice; the motel didn't offer any hot water. It was okay, though, and I got my hair washed.
I woke up the next morning with absolutely no hangover at all, not even a little one. Sort of disappointing. I wanted the experience of feeling utterly and completely horrible for drinking and ruining my liver. Instead, I felt lively after a nice night's sleep. Manticore even took away my punishments. I shook my head in disgust. I wondered, briefly, if my body's ability to morph and change would mutate me somehow so that I could accept more and more and more alcohol. It was an interesting theory, and one that I was willing to try out later on.
I had to go pee really, really bad. As soon as I was out of bed, I rushed into the bathroom and went. I discovered then the downside to drinking -- my body flushed out the 'bad' fluids as quickly as possible from its system. (A/N: funny typo -- I had written 'p-i-s-s-i-b-l-e'). That whole drinking until I passed out didn't seem all that appealing to me anymore. I'd be on the toilet for the rest of my life.
Well, it was time to get Lezli. All I had to do is walk into the group home and get her. It was as simple as that and it couldn't really go wrong. I packed up my bag and checked that all of my tickets and things hadn't walked off in the night, then I paid for the room. They overcharged me, probably because they thought I was too young to notice, or perhaps care, but I didn't point that out.
The walk to the home was decent. The day was okay and all, but there wasn't any salt in the air. It wasn't at all like walking in Seattle, a stone's throw away from the beach. I even missed all the smog that it provided, seeing as all how the interesting smells always traveled there. I only had to kick two or three streetbums out of the middle of the sidewalk which was a real relief from Seattle, though.
Lezli wasn't there. When I handed the note that I had written up all nice and pretty to the man at the front desk, he typed in a few commands into his old, rackety computer, and then shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but that enrollment ran away about a year ago." My mouth hung open and I started breathing very quickly. "She left a note . . . I'd let you read it, but it really is inappropriate for someone your age." I turned without saying anything to the man and I left the building, my worry building.
What if Manticore had come and taken her? What if she had gone out and then gotten hurt? Even if she was a PA-1, she could get hurt. Her psychic abilities were no where near as powerful as mine, and mine were limited to hearing thoughts and searching out memories.
Or what if she had just left on her own accord and was out someplace having the time of her life? What if she wasn't in any trouble at all, but just kickin' back and melting into the Americana that everyone dreamed about? I began to get very angry at this and I grabbed a tree near me, gasping in my anger.
I first noticed the leaves whirling around me as a sort of afterthought to catching my breath. I brushed them away from my face and out of my hair, but there was more to be found. They were crunchy and pointy; they got into my eyes and mouth. Glancing up, I tried to go out of the confinements of the trees.
That's when I noticed that there weren't any other leaves blowing. The leaves around me were in a whirlwind of their own, but there weren't any others. In fact, I couldn't even remembering noticing a gust of wind before this one. It worried me. I began breathing erratically, trying to find a normal explanation for it.
Going down the street in a ragged jog, I tried to get rid of the leaves and dirt and twigs that were flying -- less noticeably, but still flying -- around me. When it continued in my way, I went to a tree and leaned my head against it.
I have to calm down, I thought, and now. Just calm, Ty, and you'll figure this out. You got angry, very angry, and things started flying around you. Did that ever happen to you before?
Yes, it had happened to me before. Except I had been intentionally trying to make the objects -- bundles and bags of equipment -- fly over and above the fence that I was working with. Lord help me, my temper brought out the kinetics in me.
I don't want it, I thought, almost crying. I just wanted to be normal and to have a family and to know that all my brothers and sisters are okay. Instead, I had lost one of my siblings and I knew she was gone forever because that's how she was; Lezli was either back at Manticore or she was fending for herself.
I stood up straighter and the things in the air dropped. I wasn't going to waste my time over Lezli. If she wanted to be found she would be found, and in the mean time I would leave Martin's contact number open, in case she did call. I rather hoped she didn't call until I wasn't angry with her anymore.
Resignedly, I began my trek back to the airport. I would go home empty handed perhaps, but I would go home with new knowledge and understanding that maybe Dad would be proud of. Hell, even my other Dad would be proud of it. I comprehended my enemy -- what more could I say?
Only about four miles from the airport, where my plane was scheduled for about six hours from then, I saw a huge beehive. There were tons of flowers all around and there were also lots of trees. It was the perfect country for it.
{vivid thoughts}
Where in all of the hell was David? I need him to get the report on my desk, now! I can't start this video without the file and if I don't start the video within the next twenty minutes I will get very angry. I am supposed to be looking for similarities for THE PROJECT and if I don't get a chance to view my data then I won't be able to finish in time.
Not that I exactly have a deadline. I take out my files and I view them again. There was the reports for the two shootings I had seen already -- the first one had been wrong, I remember. Idiotic David had gotten me the wrong shooting. I didn't need the wrong shooting, I needed the correct one.
Perhaps I'll fire him soon. I need to train someone to take his place. Yes, that was a thought. Oh, here he comes now, David and the papers. I take them.
"Took you long enough," I sneer in his general direction, not looking up. His reply is hard to understand and I snap at him to speak up louder. "Or am I just going deaf?"
"Sir," he says, "I got stung by a bee on my nose and it's swelling up. I need to go to the hospital. I'm allergic to bees." I give him an indifferent wave with my hand and then turn on my television and insert the DVD.
How does the May 22nd movement tie into all of this? I think idly, writing down some surface observations on a pad of paper that I had with me. I stopped mid-sentence, grabbed my remote, and back the disc up.
Yes, there he was. By damn God, there was that crip from the wrong shooting. He sure as hell travels the city real well, don't he? Why in hell would he exchange himself for a bunch of stupid genetics people?
Ah, well, who the hell cares? Time to get back on to THE PROJECT
{/vivid thoughts}
I stopped where I was and sat near the side of the road, ignoring the pieces of litter that were scattered everywhere. Dad -- Logan -- definitely had a right to know about this memory. This Casey Billings was beginning to bother me; though I had thought that I was done with him after almost five months of nothing from him.
Why in the world did he always make me see it as THE PROJECT and not just The Project or the project? What so was so important? And why did all of his tapes seem to tie into Dad? There was something fishy going on and I wasn't liking the place where it was headed.
Get rid of one problem, come up with another. I just needed to turn fourteen, find Ally, and get rid of the nuisance of Casey Billings. I could probably do that on my own. I wouldn't worry Dad with all my junk while he was probably trying to raise his kids and save the world at the same time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! LoL! I miss my reviews!! ::does the basic puppy thing:: Reviews just ain't what they used to be. Even Cat has threatened to withhold chapters if you guys don't amp it up. (Almost put her real name in there! Too bad I don't stalk her anymore, huh?)
I FREAKIN' LOVE THE NEXT CHAPTERS!
Okay:
18 -- You will all love me. ;)
19 -- interesting factoids, so so
20 -- You will all hate my guts forever and ever.
21 -- You will know it's coming, but still hate me
22 -- sweet, pretty-ish, sadish
23 -- I expect to be crowned ruler in several small islands for it
24 -- so-so, vaguely important to story (same as 19 . . .)
25 -- I won't live through the night!
26 -- VERY NERVOUS (might be combined with 25 to make sure they're long enough)
27 -- ::snickers::
28 -- Major cliffhanger, major funny. (Thanks for the lines, Jacka**!)
29 -- Major angst. ;)
30 -- ::snickers::
31 -- Enders -- fun! Great! You'll love me.
I did a MAJOR revamp of my Ty outline and Brittany -- WHO DOESN'T WATCH DARK ANGEL! -- gave me the most AMAZING idea ever and I love her to death and I'm calling her and offering to have her children for her so she doesn't get stretch marks. ::sends love to Britterz::
So now I had 31 -- THIRTY-ONE! -- chapters of Ty instead of 58. ::grins:: I so rock. :)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Part .17
The plane I took was relatively un-crowded. Not wanting to draw attention to myself by flying in first class, I took a nice second class seat. I was a bit spiffed, however, to see that I had a middle seat when I specifically requested aisle. I wanted to be aisle so that when something went bad, I would be able to reach the emergency exit that much sooner. Climbing over the fat guy who was sitting in *my* seat didn't sound like a good idea. Besides, the jerk would probably complain.
As I was sitting between the bony broad and the fat guy, both of whom kept elbowing me with respectively sharp and huge limbs, I was filled with what most certainly can be described as snakes in my stomach. I was very apprehensive about meeting Lezli, to say the least.
I guess it was the amnesty of our last meeting that really drove me nuts. She had decidedly gone against my orders to her and the group, and that had lead me to thinking that they were dead for three years. Three years of me not knowing that they were alive; three years of hurting and missing them.
She was a vicious girl. I remembered the flames in her eyes and the venom in her voice and I shivered. She was one to worry about, with wits that would surprise the best of us; even me. It wasn't that she was especially smarter than us, because she wasn't exactly. It was just the fact that if you ever got into a screaming match with her, she would out do you.
Not that we ever had more than a few opportunities for a screaming match. We usually kept our voices done. There were a times when, knowing that if it came to blows we would both get into immense trouble, she had started yelling and yelling and I had yelled back a few things. I, of course, had gotten into trouble. As commanding officer I needed to keep in control of group.
When the lady with the cart and the ugly outfit came out offering beverages, I grabbed myself a margarita. She looked at me as if to admonish me and take back the drink, but I gave her a cold stare and she left me alone. She left muttering to herself about losing her job serving alcohol to preteens and she didn't mind giving kids a few drinks now and then if they had at least hit puberty.
Well, she ought to go down to New Orleans or San Francisco one of these days. They have strippers there eleven, twelve years old, and no telling how old the prostitutes are under all that make-up and, in the case of San Francisco, leather. Perhaps she herself had been one. She had a nice figure and would probably make a few bucks, maybe even a little more if she got rid of the jiggly around her thighs. Then again, men paid good money for those that jiggly.
I had five more margaritas by the time the flight ended. I was disappointed to not get drunk. Oh, I had a slight buzz going and all, but I just kept going and going with the drinks and I knew I wasn't drunk. Idiotic Manticore had taken away my ability to have fun. I wondered if Mom had that and drank for the hell of it, or if she honestly got more than this slight warming of the middle.
I went to a sleazy Motel Nine to sleep it off. It wasn't Motel Six, by any standards, but if I told the roaches which side of the room was theirs I knew that I wouldn't have any problems. I pulled down the covers to check for critters, then I took a nice, cold shower. It wasn't really by choice; the motel didn't offer any hot water. It was okay, though, and I got my hair washed.
I woke up the next morning with absolutely no hangover at all, not even a little one. Sort of disappointing. I wanted the experience of feeling utterly and completely horrible for drinking and ruining my liver. Instead, I felt lively after a nice night's sleep. Manticore even took away my punishments. I shook my head in disgust. I wondered, briefly, if my body's ability to morph and change would mutate me somehow so that I could accept more and more and more alcohol. It was an interesting theory, and one that I was willing to try out later on.
I had to go pee really, really bad. As soon as I was out of bed, I rushed into the bathroom and went. I discovered then the downside to drinking -- my body flushed out the 'bad' fluids as quickly as possible from its system. (A/N: funny typo -- I had written 'p-i-s-s-i-b-l-e'). That whole drinking until I passed out didn't seem all that appealing to me anymore. I'd be on the toilet for the rest of my life.
Well, it was time to get Lezli. All I had to do is walk into the group home and get her. It was as simple as that and it couldn't really go wrong. I packed up my bag and checked that all of my tickets and things hadn't walked off in the night, then I paid for the room. They overcharged me, probably because they thought I was too young to notice, or perhaps care, but I didn't point that out.
The walk to the home was decent. The day was okay and all, but there wasn't any salt in the air. It wasn't at all like walking in Seattle, a stone's throw away from the beach. I even missed all the smog that it provided, seeing as all how the interesting smells always traveled there. I only had to kick two or three streetbums out of the middle of the sidewalk which was a real relief from Seattle, though.
Lezli wasn't there. When I handed the note that I had written up all nice and pretty to the man at the front desk, he typed in a few commands into his old, rackety computer, and then shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he said, "but that enrollment ran away about a year ago." My mouth hung open and I started breathing very quickly. "She left a note . . . I'd let you read it, but it really is inappropriate for someone your age." I turned without saying anything to the man and I left the building, my worry building.
What if Manticore had come and taken her? What if she had gone out and then gotten hurt? Even if she was a PA-1, she could get hurt. Her psychic abilities were no where near as powerful as mine, and mine were limited to hearing thoughts and searching out memories.
Or what if she had just left on her own accord and was out someplace having the time of her life? What if she wasn't in any trouble at all, but just kickin' back and melting into the Americana that everyone dreamed about? I began to get very angry at this and I grabbed a tree near me, gasping in my anger.
I first noticed the leaves whirling around me as a sort of afterthought to catching my breath. I brushed them away from my face and out of my hair, but there was more to be found. They were crunchy and pointy; they got into my eyes and mouth. Glancing up, I tried to go out of the confinements of the trees.
That's when I noticed that there weren't any other leaves blowing. The leaves around me were in a whirlwind of their own, but there weren't any others. In fact, I couldn't even remembering noticing a gust of wind before this one. It worried me. I began breathing erratically, trying to find a normal explanation for it.
Going down the street in a ragged jog, I tried to get rid of the leaves and dirt and twigs that were flying -- less noticeably, but still flying -- around me. When it continued in my way, I went to a tree and leaned my head against it.
I have to calm down, I thought, and now. Just calm, Ty, and you'll figure this out. You got angry, very angry, and things started flying around you. Did that ever happen to you before?
Yes, it had happened to me before. Except I had been intentionally trying to make the objects -- bundles and bags of equipment -- fly over and above the fence that I was working with. Lord help me, my temper brought out the kinetics in me.
I don't want it, I thought, almost crying. I just wanted to be normal and to have a family and to know that all my brothers and sisters are okay. Instead, I had lost one of my siblings and I knew she was gone forever because that's how she was; Lezli was either back at Manticore or she was fending for herself.
I stood up straighter and the things in the air dropped. I wasn't going to waste my time over Lezli. If she wanted to be found she would be found, and in the mean time I would leave Martin's contact number open, in case she did call. I rather hoped she didn't call until I wasn't angry with her anymore.
Resignedly, I began my trek back to the airport. I would go home empty handed perhaps, but I would go home with new knowledge and understanding that maybe Dad would be proud of. Hell, even my other Dad would be proud of it. I comprehended my enemy -- what more could I say?
Only about four miles from the airport, where my plane was scheduled for about six hours from then, I saw a huge beehive. There were tons of flowers all around and there were also lots of trees. It was the perfect country for it.
{vivid thoughts}
Where in all of the hell was David? I need him to get the report on my desk, now! I can't start this video without the file and if I don't start the video within the next twenty minutes I will get very angry. I am supposed to be looking for similarities for THE PROJECT and if I don't get a chance to view my data then I won't be able to finish in time.
Not that I exactly have a deadline. I take out my files and I view them again. There was the reports for the two shootings I had seen already -- the first one had been wrong, I remember. Idiotic David had gotten me the wrong shooting. I didn't need the wrong shooting, I needed the correct one.
Perhaps I'll fire him soon. I need to train someone to take his place. Yes, that was a thought. Oh, here he comes now, David and the papers. I take them.
"Took you long enough," I sneer in his general direction, not looking up. His reply is hard to understand and I snap at him to speak up louder. "Or am I just going deaf?"
"Sir," he says, "I got stung by a bee on my nose and it's swelling up. I need to go to the hospital. I'm allergic to bees." I give him an indifferent wave with my hand and then turn on my television and insert the DVD.
How does the May 22nd movement tie into all of this? I think idly, writing down some surface observations on a pad of paper that I had with me. I stopped mid-sentence, grabbed my remote, and back the disc up.
Yes, there he was. By damn God, there was that crip from the wrong shooting. He sure as hell travels the city real well, don't he? Why in hell would he exchange himself for a bunch of stupid genetics people?
Ah, well, who the hell cares? Time to get back on to THE PROJECT
{/vivid thoughts}
I stopped where I was and sat near the side of the road, ignoring the pieces of litter that were scattered everywhere. Dad -- Logan -- definitely had a right to know about this memory. This Casey Billings was beginning to bother me; though I had thought that I was done with him after almost five months of nothing from him.
Why in the world did he always make me see it as THE PROJECT and not just The Project or the project? What so was so important? And why did all of his tapes seem to tie into Dad? There was something fishy going on and I wasn't liking the place where it was headed.
Get rid of one problem, come up with another. I just needed to turn fourteen, find Ally, and get rid of the nuisance of Casey Billings. I could probably do that on my own. I wouldn't worry Dad with all my junk while he was probably trying to raise his kids and save the world at the same time.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! LoL! I miss my reviews!! ::does the basic puppy thing:: Reviews just ain't what they used to be. Even Cat has threatened to withhold chapters if you guys don't amp it up. (Almost put her real name in there! Too bad I don't stalk her anymore, huh?)
I FREAKIN' LOVE THE NEXT CHAPTERS!
Okay:
18 -- You will all love me. ;)
19 -- interesting factoids, so so
20 -- You will all hate my guts forever and ever.
21 -- You will know it's coming, but still hate me
22 -- sweet, pretty-ish, sadish
23 -- I expect to be crowned ruler in several small islands for it
24 -- so-so, vaguely important to story (same as 19 . . .)
25 -- I won't live through the night!
26 -- VERY NERVOUS (might be combined with 25 to make sure they're long enough)
27 -- ::snickers::
28 -- Major cliffhanger, major funny. (Thanks for the lines, Jacka**!)
29 -- Major angst. ;)
30 -- ::snickers::
31 -- Enders -- fun! Great! You'll love me.