I know, it takes me forever to update anything. My bad. Anyway: on with the show!
AHCD (now known as Elu): That sounded soooo gay, hon. o.0; ::sigh:: As stated, I now have a name: Elu. And I am now a plushie. Oh yay-rah. And as also previously stated: Damon does not own X-Men. Der. . .
Yesssss. You are now a plushie! Mwahahaha! (I bought a horse plushie in Washington, DC, and I named it Elu and said it was the Almighty Horsey Calendar of Doom incarnate. Eh, works for me. 0.0 Wow, Oprah just said people are stupid and they frustrate her. What's this world coming to!?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A quick, three-hour plane ride--first class, of course--and Shawnessy and her gang had landed New York City. At the last minute, Shawnessy had dragged in several extras to go on this trip: another, should-be-dead mutant named Jean Grey, called Phoenix by several of Shawnessy's other "henchmen"; Matilda, who had actually been kidnapped in order to bring her on the trip; and KT, also kidnapped, as were Katie, Lexxie, and Sar. The police would have a field day with Kasch's Angels when they got back home.
The Steel Angels, or more commonly called Kasch's Angels--as if to compare the mutant syndicate to Charlie's Angels--were an army of no less than three hundred mutants worldwide who fought, physically and politically, against anyone who believed mutants to be "evil." The Angels often went to the extent of kidnap and murder, more of the latter and less of the former. Ere the Alkali Lake incident, subsequent to which Dr. Grey had been found, the Angels had made little progress. But, thanks to the destruction of the dam, and the evidence which proved Stryker had been behind the whole operation underneath the dam itself, gave the Angels a step up, which also gave them an advantage they hadn't had before: mutants are often the victims, and they don't ^always^ lie about their persecution. The Angels had been known to make up stories which were later proved to be so blatantly untrue, the officials discredited anything actually truthful the Angels might have said prior.
Shawnessy had been to New York only once before, and that had happened about nine months prior. Shawnessy's memory was pretty much shot, and she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast that morning, let alone something that happened nine months ago! She could always recall stupid, unimportant things like Kyle Boone driving his riding lawnmower into a hole he dug in his backyard. But, she could never remember anything "important," like what she learned in school. She retained the information, just don't expect her to tell you what she learned in school on any particular day, because damned if she cared enough to remember.
The group, which consisted of Shawnessy, Beau, Remy, Mortimer, Jean, Matilda, KT, Katie, Sar, and Lexxie, had booked five rooms at the Biltmore, and then fell into arguing who would room with who. The guys, of course, didn't wholeheartedly agree with not sharing a room with any of the girls, but none of the girls, except for Shawnessy, wanted Mortimer anywhere near them. Finally, in her annoyance and anger, Shawnessy stood up and shouted above everyone, "All ya'll shyuddup!" Everyone quieted down and stared at the fox mutant. "Aiight, here's th' deal, ya'll: Remy an' Beau, you got 5-1-2. Mortimer an' me'll take 5-1-3. Matilda an' KT get 5-1-1. Jean, you an' Lex'll have 5-1-0. That leaves 5-0-9 t' Sar an' Katie. Happy na'?"
"Non," said Beau bluntly.
"O' course you ain't. Deal."
"Aww, how cute," Matilda cooed in a mocking tone. "Shawnessy, your little fuck puppy is gonna be lonely." The girls, save for Jean, burst out laughing, and Shawnessy very nearly smacked the nearest person, who happened to be KT. She glared at Sar, who took it as a cue to harangue Matilda.
"Weedily-wee!"
That being an inside joke, Jean, Beau, Remy, and Mortimer stared at Sar like she had lost her mind. Everyone else got it, though. Now thoroughly pissed off at being made fun of, Matilda smacked Sar.
Everything was an inside joke with the Avon girls, and generally, the jokes made no sense to anyone except them, but were still funny and stupid enough to get anybody to laugh.
With everything more-or-less settled, the luggage and assorted cellular phones were put into their respective rooms, and Shawnessy and her gang headed out to terrorize locals, spend at least a hundred dollars, and generally cause mayhem and discord. Ah, sweet chaos.
Fall had already set in, and winter was coming fast. The city was cold and cheerless, and the many rows of skyscrapers made for one giant wind tunnel through which blew an icy, northeasterly gust, and made Shawnessy wish for the flat fields and farmhouses of Indiana. She found beaches interesting, mountains striking, and massive cities awe-inspiring. But, when she really got to thinking about it, she found that her home was by far the most beautiful. Home was mile after mile of corn and soybeans; old, graying farmhouses with an old dog laying on the front porch, fast asleep in the summer's midday heat; a small town that was no more than eight miles from east end to west end; the thud and shriek of the nearby trainyard; and what came to mind most often, was her grandparents old log cabin with the giant two-story garage and the miniature apple orchard in the backyard. That was Shawnessy's home, and, looking at the ominous black and gunmetal gray skyscrapers, of which there were few in Indianapolis, she finally saw what everyone in her family saw: that Indiana was more than just corn and Baptist churches.
"Y'know," she said to Matilda and Mortimer as they trailed behind Beau and Remy and Jean, "ev'ry time I leave Indiana, I realize just how much I love that worthless place! I mean, we sit through gym class talkin' about how we gonna leave home fer somethin' better, like Seattle, but d' we ever act'ally notice just what we'r' sayin'?"
"You're wrong there," argued Matilda. "We'll never have a life in that Godforsaken hell. There's better places out there."
"T' tell th' truth, if I ever leave home, I'd prolly go somewheres like Ohio--" Shawnessy stopped, rethinking that decision. 'No,' she thought ruefully, 'to much was lost there. Things that are gone, and ain't never coming back.' She fought to keep back the tears as she remembered her aunt, laying weak and sick in that hospital bed. Remembering that day her mother told her there was nothing more the doctors could do. She had tried to hide from that feeling of cold sadness. Had tried to ignore everything.
--Flashback--
"She's gonna live, dammit!" Shawnessy screamed at the darkened room. "Ain't no one 'r nothin' gonna take 'er away from me! YOU HEAR ME!? Yer lettin' her die, ain't you? Damn you! If you really existed, she would be gettin' better! And she'd come home for Christmas, just like I been askin'! SHE'LL COME HOME! AND AIN'T NO ^GOD^ GONNA SAY OTHERWISE! TO HELL WITH YOU!"
No one answered. Nothing. Just silence.
-Fast-forward Two Months-
Shawnessy's aunt had been getting worse and worse. The cancer continued to drain away her strength. . . and her will to live. Shawnessy had come to fear the sight of her father's name on the Caller ID. She knew that if he ^did^ call, it would be all over. That day had come. The phone rang once. . . twice. . . three times. Shawnessy never let it ring more than once. She didn't want to hear whatever it was her father had to say. But she had to know.
"Hello?"
"Brittany?"
"Yeah." Shawnessy sat down on the recliner and curled up as best she could without pressing any of the buttons on the phone.
"I--I have bad--news." Her father's voice was jerky, and wavering. She'd never heard her dad cry before. It was horrible.
"No don--"
"It's your aunt. She. . . she died--last night. I--" Shawnessy never heard what he had to say. The phone slid from her hand and bounced a couple times on the cushion. She didn't pick it back up. She just stared blankly out the sliding glass door.
'No. She's not dead, Dad. She's just sleeping. Tell the nurse to wake her up, Dad. Get her on the phone. I want to talk to her. Get the nurse to wake her up!' But she wasn't sleeping. She had lost all will to live. Too long. No good news. Her spirit had been broken, and she had just given up. No more fighting. No more pain. Everything would be all right.
Shawnessy hung the phone up, almost as if she were asleep herself. Then, like somebody had flipped a switch, Shawnessy screamed out, "GOD BE DAMNED!! SHE'S DEAD AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HAD ONLY LISTENED. . . IF YOU HAD LISTENED TO ME LIKE YOU SHOULD'VE, SHE'D WAKE UP AND CALL. 'IT'S GONNA BE OKAY, BRITT. AND GUESS WHAT? I'M COMIN' HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!' BUT NO! YOU IGNORED ME. JUST LIKE ALWAYS! AND NOW. . . ^NOW SHE'S DEAD 'CAUSE O' YOU^!"
After that day, there was no God in Shawnessy's life. There was nothing. Her faith, her happiness, her own spirit had died right along with her aunt.
But she kept telling herself, as she'd cry herself to sleep, "She's just sleeping. Tell the nurse to wake her up, Dad. Tell her to wake up. I want to talk to her. Please, Dad, wake her up. . ."
--End Flashback--
"No," Shawnessy said slowly. "Not Ohio. Not ever Ohio."
Matilda and Mortimer knew, and they knew better than to say anything. It wasn't worth trying to change Shawnessy's mind about it. Shawnessy knew her aunt was dead, somewhere in her deep subconscious. But, over the past ten months, since her aunt's death, she had begun to believe her mantra. Her aunt was just sleeping, and someday, she'd wake up and come home, telling Shawnessy to pack her bags, 'cause they were finally taking that trip to Europe that promised so long ago. She was just sleeping. . .
For the next hour, Shawnessy was beyond the living world. She had turned inward, to a place where her aunt still lived, her parents were still alive, and her family hadn't deserted her. In truth, she didn't miss her family. Most of them she had never been very close to anyways. And when she lost her parents. . . it was sudden, and hadn't hurt so much as her aunt's death. But when she lost her aunt, she lost not only her most favorite and most beloved family member, but her best and closest friend. She had lost her whole world, her whole purpose. Her mentor was gone, no longer there to teach her life's lessons in that strange way that she did. Gone. That word hurt more than anything in Shawnessy's life ever had, physically, mentally, or emotionally. There was no maybe to it. No but's to if's. It just was. "Gone" was final, no way to change it, no way to fix it, no way to make it better. Everything gone. Oh God. Why? But everything would be all right. Wouldn't it?
After the loss of practically everything, Shawnessy had been picked up by Leo Kasch and his Angels. Without anyone around to tell her what to do and what not to do anymore, Shawnessy lived her dream. She became a thief, or pirate as she preferred to be called. She became what she always wanted to be, but was never allowed to be. And she found someone to love, who would love her back. Her relationship with Beau lasted for a short while. It gave her a thrill. Her parents would have never let her even talk to a man like Beau, let alone share a bed with him! There was a certain risk involved, and in some strange, perverted way, Shawnessy enjoyed it.
And everything would be all right.
No.
Never "all right."
Everything would ^never^ be "all right."
Everything was ^gone^.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
That was depressing. But truthful. Shawnessy is, essentially, me. Not all of it is true. My aunt is still alive. . . barely. I'm slowly losing her, and I know it. But she'll be okay. She'll come home for Christmas, and everything will be all right.
AHCD (now known as Elu): That sounded soooo gay, hon. o.0; ::sigh:: As stated, I now have a name: Elu. And I am now a plushie. Oh yay-rah. And as also previously stated: Damon does not own X-Men. Der. . .
Yesssss. You are now a plushie! Mwahahaha! (I bought a horse plushie in Washington, DC, and I named it Elu and said it was the Almighty Horsey Calendar of Doom incarnate. Eh, works for me. 0.0 Wow, Oprah just said people are stupid and they frustrate her. What's this world coming to!?
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
A quick, three-hour plane ride--first class, of course--and Shawnessy and her gang had landed New York City. At the last minute, Shawnessy had dragged in several extras to go on this trip: another, should-be-dead mutant named Jean Grey, called Phoenix by several of Shawnessy's other "henchmen"; Matilda, who had actually been kidnapped in order to bring her on the trip; and KT, also kidnapped, as were Katie, Lexxie, and Sar. The police would have a field day with Kasch's Angels when they got back home.
The Steel Angels, or more commonly called Kasch's Angels--as if to compare the mutant syndicate to Charlie's Angels--were an army of no less than three hundred mutants worldwide who fought, physically and politically, against anyone who believed mutants to be "evil." The Angels often went to the extent of kidnap and murder, more of the latter and less of the former. Ere the Alkali Lake incident, subsequent to which Dr. Grey had been found, the Angels had made little progress. But, thanks to the destruction of the dam, and the evidence which proved Stryker had been behind the whole operation underneath the dam itself, gave the Angels a step up, which also gave them an advantage they hadn't had before: mutants are often the victims, and they don't ^always^ lie about their persecution. The Angels had been known to make up stories which were later proved to be so blatantly untrue, the officials discredited anything actually truthful the Angels might have said prior.
Shawnessy had been to New York only once before, and that had happened about nine months prior. Shawnessy's memory was pretty much shot, and she had trouble remembering what she had for breakfast that morning, let alone something that happened nine months ago! She could always recall stupid, unimportant things like Kyle Boone driving his riding lawnmower into a hole he dug in his backyard. But, she could never remember anything "important," like what she learned in school. She retained the information, just don't expect her to tell you what she learned in school on any particular day, because damned if she cared enough to remember.
The group, which consisted of Shawnessy, Beau, Remy, Mortimer, Jean, Matilda, KT, Katie, Sar, and Lexxie, had booked five rooms at the Biltmore, and then fell into arguing who would room with who. The guys, of course, didn't wholeheartedly agree with not sharing a room with any of the girls, but none of the girls, except for Shawnessy, wanted Mortimer anywhere near them. Finally, in her annoyance and anger, Shawnessy stood up and shouted above everyone, "All ya'll shyuddup!" Everyone quieted down and stared at the fox mutant. "Aiight, here's th' deal, ya'll: Remy an' Beau, you got 5-1-2. Mortimer an' me'll take 5-1-3. Matilda an' KT get 5-1-1. Jean, you an' Lex'll have 5-1-0. That leaves 5-0-9 t' Sar an' Katie. Happy na'?"
"Non," said Beau bluntly.
"O' course you ain't. Deal."
"Aww, how cute," Matilda cooed in a mocking tone. "Shawnessy, your little fuck puppy is gonna be lonely." The girls, save for Jean, burst out laughing, and Shawnessy very nearly smacked the nearest person, who happened to be KT. She glared at Sar, who took it as a cue to harangue Matilda.
"Weedily-wee!"
That being an inside joke, Jean, Beau, Remy, and Mortimer stared at Sar like she had lost her mind. Everyone else got it, though. Now thoroughly pissed off at being made fun of, Matilda smacked Sar.
Everything was an inside joke with the Avon girls, and generally, the jokes made no sense to anyone except them, but were still funny and stupid enough to get anybody to laugh.
With everything more-or-less settled, the luggage and assorted cellular phones were put into their respective rooms, and Shawnessy and her gang headed out to terrorize locals, spend at least a hundred dollars, and generally cause mayhem and discord. Ah, sweet chaos.
Fall had already set in, and winter was coming fast. The city was cold and cheerless, and the many rows of skyscrapers made for one giant wind tunnel through which blew an icy, northeasterly gust, and made Shawnessy wish for the flat fields and farmhouses of Indiana. She found beaches interesting, mountains striking, and massive cities awe-inspiring. But, when she really got to thinking about it, she found that her home was by far the most beautiful. Home was mile after mile of corn and soybeans; old, graying farmhouses with an old dog laying on the front porch, fast asleep in the summer's midday heat; a small town that was no more than eight miles from east end to west end; the thud and shriek of the nearby trainyard; and what came to mind most often, was her grandparents old log cabin with the giant two-story garage and the miniature apple orchard in the backyard. That was Shawnessy's home, and, looking at the ominous black and gunmetal gray skyscrapers, of which there were few in Indianapolis, she finally saw what everyone in her family saw: that Indiana was more than just corn and Baptist churches.
"Y'know," she said to Matilda and Mortimer as they trailed behind Beau and Remy and Jean, "ev'ry time I leave Indiana, I realize just how much I love that worthless place! I mean, we sit through gym class talkin' about how we gonna leave home fer somethin' better, like Seattle, but d' we ever act'ally notice just what we'r' sayin'?"
"You're wrong there," argued Matilda. "We'll never have a life in that Godforsaken hell. There's better places out there."
"T' tell th' truth, if I ever leave home, I'd prolly go somewheres like Ohio--" Shawnessy stopped, rethinking that decision. 'No,' she thought ruefully, 'to much was lost there. Things that are gone, and ain't never coming back.' She fought to keep back the tears as she remembered her aunt, laying weak and sick in that hospital bed. Remembering that day her mother told her there was nothing more the doctors could do. She had tried to hide from that feeling of cold sadness. Had tried to ignore everything.
--Flashback--
"She's gonna live, dammit!" Shawnessy screamed at the darkened room. "Ain't no one 'r nothin' gonna take 'er away from me! YOU HEAR ME!? Yer lettin' her die, ain't you? Damn you! If you really existed, she would be gettin' better! And she'd come home for Christmas, just like I been askin'! SHE'LL COME HOME! AND AIN'T NO ^GOD^ GONNA SAY OTHERWISE! TO HELL WITH YOU!"
No one answered. Nothing. Just silence.
-Fast-forward Two Months-
Shawnessy's aunt had been getting worse and worse. The cancer continued to drain away her strength. . . and her will to live. Shawnessy had come to fear the sight of her father's name on the Caller ID. She knew that if he ^did^ call, it would be all over. That day had come. The phone rang once. . . twice. . . three times. Shawnessy never let it ring more than once. She didn't want to hear whatever it was her father had to say. But she had to know.
"Hello?"
"Brittany?"
"Yeah." Shawnessy sat down on the recliner and curled up as best she could without pressing any of the buttons on the phone.
"I--I have bad--news." Her father's voice was jerky, and wavering. She'd never heard her dad cry before. It was horrible.
"No don--"
"It's your aunt. She. . . she died--last night. I--" Shawnessy never heard what he had to say. The phone slid from her hand and bounced a couple times on the cushion. She didn't pick it back up. She just stared blankly out the sliding glass door.
'No. She's not dead, Dad. She's just sleeping. Tell the nurse to wake her up, Dad. Get her on the phone. I want to talk to her. Get the nurse to wake her up!' But she wasn't sleeping. She had lost all will to live. Too long. No good news. Her spirit had been broken, and she had just given up. No more fighting. No more pain. Everything would be all right.
Shawnessy hung the phone up, almost as if she were asleep herself. Then, like somebody had flipped a switch, Shawnessy screamed out, "GOD BE DAMNED!! SHE'S DEAD AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! IF YOU HAD ONLY LISTENED. . . IF YOU HAD LISTENED TO ME LIKE YOU SHOULD'VE, SHE'D WAKE UP AND CALL. 'IT'S GONNA BE OKAY, BRITT. AND GUESS WHAT? I'M COMIN' HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!' BUT NO! YOU IGNORED ME. JUST LIKE ALWAYS! AND NOW. . . ^NOW SHE'S DEAD 'CAUSE O' YOU^!"
After that day, there was no God in Shawnessy's life. There was nothing. Her faith, her happiness, her own spirit had died right along with her aunt.
But she kept telling herself, as she'd cry herself to sleep, "She's just sleeping. Tell the nurse to wake her up, Dad. Tell her to wake up. I want to talk to her. Please, Dad, wake her up. . ."
--End Flashback--
"No," Shawnessy said slowly. "Not Ohio. Not ever Ohio."
Matilda and Mortimer knew, and they knew better than to say anything. It wasn't worth trying to change Shawnessy's mind about it. Shawnessy knew her aunt was dead, somewhere in her deep subconscious. But, over the past ten months, since her aunt's death, she had begun to believe her mantra. Her aunt was just sleeping, and someday, she'd wake up and come home, telling Shawnessy to pack her bags, 'cause they were finally taking that trip to Europe that promised so long ago. She was just sleeping. . .
For the next hour, Shawnessy was beyond the living world. She had turned inward, to a place where her aunt still lived, her parents were still alive, and her family hadn't deserted her. In truth, she didn't miss her family. Most of them she had never been very close to anyways. And when she lost her parents. . . it was sudden, and hadn't hurt so much as her aunt's death. But when she lost her aunt, she lost not only her most favorite and most beloved family member, but her best and closest friend. She had lost her whole world, her whole purpose. Her mentor was gone, no longer there to teach her life's lessons in that strange way that she did. Gone. That word hurt more than anything in Shawnessy's life ever had, physically, mentally, or emotionally. There was no maybe to it. No but's to if's. It just was. "Gone" was final, no way to change it, no way to fix it, no way to make it better. Everything gone. Oh God. Why? But everything would be all right. Wouldn't it?
After the loss of practically everything, Shawnessy had been picked up by Leo Kasch and his Angels. Without anyone around to tell her what to do and what not to do anymore, Shawnessy lived her dream. She became a thief, or pirate as she preferred to be called. She became what she always wanted to be, but was never allowed to be. And she found someone to love, who would love her back. Her relationship with Beau lasted for a short while. It gave her a thrill. Her parents would have never let her even talk to a man like Beau, let alone share a bed with him! There was a certain risk involved, and in some strange, perverted way, Shawnessy enjoyed it.
And everything would be all right.
No.
Never "all right."
Everything would ^never^ be "all right."
Everything was ^gone^.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
That was depressing. But truthful. Shawnessy is, essentially, me. Not all of it is true. My aunt is still alive. . . barely. I'm slowly losing her, and I know it. But she'll be okay. She'll come home for Christmas, and everything will be all right.