Discl: Stephenie Meyer is so much nicer than this.
A/N: As always, LJ is prettier. Also, Angstgoddess003 and I are hosting a slash contest, "The Slash Backslash Contest." You can click on my profile and then "communities" tab to get to it. It's super fun. Finally, be sure to check out the Lazy Yet Discerning Ficster.
The epistolary doodlings of one deranged Jacob Black, son of Billy Black, chief of the Quileute tribe of the Northwest. ALSO, a once and future sane guy. A warrior turned victim by his own sword (Sword is a euphemism here.). A victim of the nefarious y-chromosome and ancestoric lupine genes in the year of our Lady (Leah said Christianity's worst offense against native peoples is its sexism) 2006.
Entry 4:
"Why does everything have to be so complicated?"
(Avril Lavine is fuck-hot. (You know I like the eyeliner.) I admit this—even if she's a whiny Canadian.)
Anyway, so, guess what? Like, turned out I was a Xanax short of being a wolf in any given second and Bella was one-pint of O+ short of turning see-through.
So.
You'd think we'd be thick as thieves, or like I'd be up to no good in her pretty spots.
But no, following the situation where she crazy evaporated and I changed into the wolf the first time...
Bella wasn't scared or anything.
The opposite.
I was like shaking fur and padding about and wagging a newly sprouted tail, but Bella...
I heard a frustrated exhale from the corner of the room. Bella. She smelled annoyed (though I couldn't see this). But then again, my point of view was skewed. I was a tad upset at the moment. I recall my thought process, as follows:
WHY AM I FURRY IN THE AIR? Bella bit me. WHY AM HOWLING? Bella's invisible. SHE DID THIS!!! I smell Bella in the corner. She smells like blood. SMELLS GOOD. Ew. I'M A VAMPIRE! BELLA TURNED ME INTO A VAMPIRE! SHE'S AN INVISIBLE SUCCUBUS WITH VAMPIRE CHANGING SKILLS!!!! Hoooooooowwwwwl!!!
(But vampires don't howl?)
But of course, then creepy voices got in my head.
This is natural Jacob.
This is your birthright.
Center yourself. Like a yogi master or a jedi, dude.
And I was all like, BELLA HAS MAGIC MIND CONTROL POWERS TOO!
I shouted this. (Howled this.)
I got a "Whatever, Jake. Stop howling" from the Bella voice.
But the manly, canine voices in my head were all like:
Don't eat Bella!!! She's in there with you?!
Calm down. Take big deep breaths.
Sit. Sit. Sit, Jake, sit!
So, I took the safe course. I hightailed it (with an actual tail) out of there. I broke a window. The glass covered the lawn as I raced for the trees.
Bad dog?
By the time they found me (in the shed) and calmed me down—and I was capable of believing they were not under Bella's imperium, (To prove this, Embry piss-drew A-U-S-T-E-N with really clear lines, so I was sure.) I got to find out that I was really almost as wicked fucked up as Bella was. I was a werewolf and turns out that Bella's ex was an actual blood drinking vampire.
After they left and Billy was in bed, I let this all sink in for a while.
Bella needed help.
I could help her!
But then there was a knock on my window.
I opened it.
Bella was there!
She was beautiful.
She smiled at me with crimson lips.
No one was there to help me.
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From: Alice_in_Jasper__wonderland(at)gmail(dot)com
To: cswan(at)forkspd(dot)org
Date: 10/31/2005 20:05
Subject: ASK ME IF I'M AN ORANGE?!
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CHARLIE.
SHE'S GOING TO FIND THE ORANGE SHIRT UNLESS YOU MOVE IT BY TOMORROW. Charlie, I know I told you to burn it—but you trashed the wrong one.
The shirt you so heroically chucked was peach.
Peach is in no way orange.
Peach brings out the nice blush in your daughter's cheeks.
The shirt I'm talking about is orange. AND CORDUROY. it may seem odd to take such measures, but I'm sure that in your own profession, from time to time, you must take steps or measures that are as challenging, but like in your job, some times you must take those hard shots.
This is the time.
Gasoline. Drench it. A single match. Toss it into the fumigant mess. Let the gold of the flames crush that horrid zesty orange of the shirt. Let it fold and pop and shrivel and crackle as it disintegrates. Let the black column of smoke fill the sky. Let the dark and the light of the purification bring us smiles with our heavy joy.
Okay.
Jasper says I'm melodramatic, but I told him yesterday that your coloring looked better than his in that nice shade of pumpkin, so I think his opinion is clouded by his own jealously.
Anyway, a side thing.
There hasn't been a drug trade popping up with the Quileute youth lately has there?
Now, I know that you know that the La Push crowd has never had a good relationship with my family, but I want to assure you that I'm only being a cautious friend. I just really don't know what to make of the various rumors I've heard from old school friends. Naturally, my simple wish is that I was hoping you could just pop in and ask Billy about it since you two are longtime friends. Would that be too much of a bother?
Be sure to be specific: LSD. Shrooms. Paint. Glue. An excessive use of cellophane? Really, anything that would make a... er... camera go fuzzy? I don't know if that makes sense?
I'm sorry if I'm being coy, Charlie. I just worry a lot.
OH, and whatever you do, Ms. Cope is not worth any amount of alcohol.
Just saying.
xoxo,
Alice
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Orange is not the new pink, even if it's Halloween soon, folks.
"A man is not an orange. You can't eat the fruit and throw the peel away."
- Arthur Miller
Pomegranate is acceptable with a nice chocolate to contrast. No Olive. Never.
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Bella Swan's Job Application to the Forks Hospital
First Name: Isabella (Bella) Middle Name: Marie Last Name: Swan
Street Address: 1225 Wiley Street
City, State, Zip Code: Forks, WA 98331
Phone Number: (360) 540-VAMP
Are you eligible to work in the United States?
Yes X No_______
Have you been convicted of or pleaded no contest to a felony within the last five years?
Yes_______ No X - My dad is the town sheriff. Seriously.
If yes, please explain: _________________________________________
POSITION/AVAILABILITY:
Position Applied For
Lab Assistant
Days/Hours Available
Weekday evenings. Weekends.
Skills and Qualifications: Licenses, Skills, Training, Awards
I can assure you that I am exceptionally well qualified. Good communication skills.
Enthusiasm. Also, all the staff know me well—since I'm a regular patient. Barb, you're the one reviewing this, right? Hi, Barb. I know I used to be afraid of blood and everything and you used to have to hold a washcloth over my nose to make the situation not end with a mess of vomit and fainting, but I can assure you that I'm over my former "issue." You may have heard (like everyone else in this town has, I'm sure) that I had a nasty break up with my ex-boyfriend, and well, I'm hoping to get over it by facing my demons and taking on new challenges, and this is why I'm hoping you'll consider me for the blood collection assistant position. Thanks! Bella.
EMPLOYMENT HISTORY:
Present Or Last Position: Cashier, sales clerk
Employer: Newton's Outfitters
Supervisor: Cara Newton
From: 8/2005 To: Present
Responsibilities: Ringing up customers. Assisting customers with questions.
Salary: $8.50 per hour
Reason for Leaving: Mike Newton is a pervert.
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From: Bella_Swan(at)vampadoodle(dot)com
To: Alice_in_Jasper__wonderland(at)gmail(dot)com
Date: 10/31/2005 20:05
Subject: small vampires
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Just so you know.
Charlie uses the same password for every account.
"Trout123."
He tried to switch it to "Bass321" once, and they couldn't get access to the police station computers for 48 hours because he forgotten he'd changed it.
Why is this information important?
Because weird shit has been going on lately.
For example, there's the fact that Charlie has been scanning the fashion week news and website whenever he thinks I'm not looking. At first, I thought I was making stuff up, but then I checked his browsing history...
Next, there's this odd mystery where every shirt I own that happens to be in the "warm" color family seems to have disappeared.
Charlie is color-blind by the way—YOU IDIOT.
Oh, and there's a charred circle with splatterings of beads and cloth in the middle of the lawn. I'd say someone held a witch's bong circle, except for the non-pot smell and that Charlie's eyebrows were partially singed off and how he looked highly guilty in this pumpkin-colored sweater that I'm sure was last worn in 1969.
All conclusions pointed to a certain smallish vampire with a capacity to meddle that the universe cannot simply contain.
Meaning: you.
A quick check of Charlie's email account confirmed this theory of mine.
aLlCE.
You have already betrayed me in every way that matters. For you to continue to do so in all the ways that don't matter does not help your case.
Be gone.
Stay away.
Oh, and tell your brother to watch out.
Neither you nor he will see it coming.
But it will come.
(Probably in a blaze of orange just to spite you.)
-Your Pathetic Little Human
P.S. I'm wearing yellow, lime green, and tangerine even though the last time we saw sun in this town was three weeks ago Tuesday. I may be a "winter," complexion-wise, but I'm done with classifications. I want my skin tone to clash with my clothes like cymbals in kindergarten Music class. I want to make Rainbow Bright tremble with the bad irony, the color wheel to spin off into the black. I want you to look into my future. I want you to look and wish your dead eyes could cry.
Mine are alive, and they still can't.
P.P.S. Given your last email to Charlie, I know you're not seeing my future clearly anymore. I know why, and I've decided to give you clue: I've now learned that ALL men whom I could find attractive are dogs.
Ruff!
Figure that shit out.
P.P.S. Just because I can, I will do everything in my power to make sure Ms. Cope gets some play. Just because I got rejected, doesn't mean she should, too. So there.
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A/N: *Rock on. Anyhoo, if you see crap in this that is typo'd, do let me know. I would say give me constructive criticism on this, but... um, that's like commenting on the beauty of a many-eyed potato, so do what you will. Heh.