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Deirdre of the Sorrows


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#46 Ami

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Posted 02 April 2008 - 11:32 AM

PAGE TWO!!

Hehe. :)

Update when you can, Gracey!

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Luuuurve, Ami . . X

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#47 peanut_butter

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Posted 02 April 2008 - 07:38 PM

I'm sorry; I'm sorry. I fell asleep last night.
----------------------------
Friday, a day devoid of school, had positively dragged. I’m a girl with few hobbies, you must remember, and seeing as I had a pronounced dearth of pianos and literary magazine work, I was left flat. I’d slept rather late—to about nine fifteen, pathetic excuse for a teenager that I am—and then idled, finishing up all my schoolwork for the break before one.

I then had two hours to flounder. Mrs. Morrison had asked that I show up around three, when she had to leave for her flight, which left me with far too much time by half before it would be acceptable for me to make my way over to the Morrison household.

Going downstairs and watching the television was an option, I supposed, but I wasn’t really a television fan. There was something so mundane about wasting an hour of your life watching actors pretend to be someone else. Though, I supposed it was rather mundane to lie on your bed, watching the digital clock flick through the minutes, undecided on any course of action.

I wanted to do something. I wasn’t bored; just restless.

Eventually, I decided to leave early. I’d packed my bag the night before, stocking it well with black shirts and blue jeans. And, most importantly, I had a volume of modern poetry, for my reading pleasure while Natalie and Lindsay slept. I was hoping to use this as a way to get out of holding lengthy conversations while Bane had me more or less captive.

That boy could definitely be dangerous, given too much time and too much information.

I hardly think I have to tell you that I didn’t make it until three, kicking around an empty house by myself when I had the promise of somewhere better to be. Bane’s presence in my life had changed so many things… like my patience, and my low stress levels, and my general contentment. I hated him.

I could practically hear him whispering, You keep telling yourself that, brat.

Clearly, if I was hearing him in my head, it was a bad thing. Casually, I thought about what I would do if suddenly, mysteriously, Bane were gone.

The thought halted me like a punch in the gut. This was bad, very bad. By this point, I was driving towards Bane’s house, on a back road that didn’t lead to anything but houses. On the wheel (you seem so surprised that I drive; I already told you that I did, gooses), my hands started to shake, and I pulled over for a moment.

For the past nine years I’d had one goal: not to grow attached to any one person, any one place, or any one thing. I’d been so sure of my success, the hard-won success that was the product of a decade of distance, of unloving callousness, of simply being as little as I could be. I’d been complacent in my success. The vaguest possibility that I cared about someone was impossible to comprehend.

Breathing slowly in and out of my nose, I concentrated on relaxing. I was overreacting, surely. So maybe I had chanced a—I hated to say the word—a friend in Bane, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Friends came and went all the time; it wasn’t like he was a good friend, or a best friend.

My panic lessened as I rationalized this away. Maybe in your average person, the realization that they had made a friend wasn’t that big of a deal, but I’d never been average. Average people didn’t have names that meant “sorrow.” Average people didn’t have birthdays that marked the anniversaries of their mothers’ deaths. Average people had known their fathers. Average people talked for leisure. Average people were average, and delightfully so.

Slowly, as if I didn’t trust my own nerves (and to be perfectly honest, I really didn’t), I swerved back into the empty road. If nothing else, my slight panic attack had served to waste a few minutes. I glanced at the dashboard clock of Uncle Mack’s car, which I’d been loaned for the weekend: 2:28. I wasn’t absurdly early, then.

Moving perhaps more slowly than usual, I shuffled up to the front door, and knocked. It felt strange to knock on this particular door—I usually had a resident with me to allow me safe and silent passage.

Lindsay peered out through the door and smiled at me, beatific in her small innocence. She left the door open for me, and then ran upstairs yelling, “Mama, Deirdre’s here! Mama!” I stuck my head into the living room, where Natalie was playing a board game by herself.

When she noticed me standing there, she smiled a gap-toothed smile. Well, that was new. “I lost my front tooth, Deirdre!” she exclaimed, jumping up and pointing to her face. “And I was the first one in the class this year, and I got a tooth sticker next to my name on the star chart, and Ms. Lenartowicz read us a story about the tooth fairy, and last night the tooth fairy left me a quarter under my pillow!”

She raced upstairs, presumably to retrieve said quarter. I had to suppress a smile (if you’re wondering why I suppress these smiles every time they attempt to surface, consider how self conscious it makes me feel) at her enthusiasm. I hadn’t seemed anyone this excited about a quarter since…well, I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone this excited about a quarter.

I was contemplating sitting down at the piano—it was such a nice piano—when Bane clomped down the stairs with Lindsay in his arms. Instantly, I buried my face in my hands to hide the bubbling laughter that threatened to overflow and spill out into the house, drowning everyone. It was that funny.

Oh, you want to know what was so funny. Well, so did Bane. “What’s the matter?” he asked, sounding a little annoyed. Well, I suppose I might be annoyed, too, if someone burst into laughter at the sight of me.

I shook my head, stifling my giggles. I mean, how could I not laugh when Bane came down the stairs wearing running shorts that even Katy would pale at wearing? And a muscle tee made out of some sort of ridiculously thin material? It was funny.

Placing Lindsay on the floor, Bane seemed to glance down at what he was wearing. He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Shut up, Deirdre,” he muttered, without much conviction as I unsuccessfully dodged the swat he directed at my head. “It’s a uniform. I didn’t pick it out.” I pressed my lips together tightly.

“Where’s your mom?” I asked, joining the two were they’d sat down on the couch. Bane, apparently still miffed, grunted at me. I elbowed him in the side.

He grunted again. “She’s coming,” he sniped, not looking at me. He could be sort of a baby when he wanted to be. “She was getting dressed when Linnie went into her room.”

I nodded—by the time he’d answered me, I could hear Mrs. Morrison’s steps, coming down the stairs. “Well, here she is now,” I commented softly. Bane whipped his head around, surprised into not ignoring me. When she came into the room a moment later, he gave me a how did you know? look. I shrugged. “Not my fault you’re so unobservant.”

Mrs. Morrison laughed pleasantly, and in that moment, I could so easily see the resemblance between her and her son. They were cut from the same cloth, they were; outgoing, and pleasant and always trying their hardest to draw you in.

Neatly fitting an earring though her ear, Mrs. Morrison bustled around the room while rattling off instructions. “You more or less know the deal by now, Deirdre,” she allowed, picking up her coat, “so I’m sure everything will be fine. Natalie and I set up a bed for you in the guest room, and they’ll show you where that is before you put them to bed. My cell phone number is on the fridge if there’s an emergency, and the girls both know it, right girls?”

“Right, Mama,” Natalie and Lindsay intoned in unison.

Their mother grinned at them affectionately. I felt a little sick. “And, Deirdre,” I looked back up at her, “Bane will be around if you need him.”

I looked at Bane, who was very pointedly not meeting my eyes. “She must not trust you at all,” I teased, “if you’re only going to be gone for, what, three hours, and I’m going to be here all weekend.” The idea of having a weekend with Bane, even chaperoned by his two sisters, the buffers, was accompanied by both a nervous excitement and a form of terror.

Neither of these two emotions was exactly explicable.

“Well, here’s the thing,” Bane muttered from the side of his mouth, a faint flush highlighting his face. Mrs. Morrison, who had been heading back into the hall, froze in the doorway, just far enough gone that we couldn’t see her face. “I’m not going to be around tonight.”

Uncomprehending, hesitating, I said nothing.

Bane cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I sort of have a date tonight.” Then, moving so quickly it startled me, he whipped his head around to gauge my reaction.

Luckily, I have ample practice in keeping my emotions from tainting my expression. “Oh,” said I.

He bit his lip. “Yeah, my friend Dan set it up, and it’s sort of weird and all.” His head was tilted in a direction that indicated he was trying to transmit something unsaid, but I’ve never been all that good at interpersonal things. I don’t read people.

“Oh,” I echoed, my voice faint.

Looking a bit as if he were about to be sick, Bane blurted, “I have to go,” and stood up, rushing out of the room, and then, I could hear in the slam, the front door. His mother stuck her head back into the room, gave me the same significant look, only sadder, this one, and then demanded a kiss goodbye from her daughters.

They jumped up to receive her, and I had to look away. That had been me, once. But, alas, no more. The milk is spilt, but I can’t help but mourn it.

“Be good,” she murmured into the hair of her youngest. “And don’t worry Deirdre too much, you hear me? She’s being very nice, watching you like this.”

“Yes, Mom,” Natalie replied, and I couldn’t help but notice her roll her eyes a little. Further, I couldn’t help but let leak a little smile.

With a nod of her head—that much I could read—Mrs. Morrison beckoned me into the hallway after her. “I’ve sort of given Bane the weekend off,” she informed me, wrapping scarves and gathering luggage. “He’s so responsible with Natalie and Lindsay all the time, always watching them for me, and I thought that he needed a break.” I nodded once. I could appreciate that. “So, this is really his one free-for-all, but he’s a good kid. I know he’ll behave himself.”

That was true enough. Bane was probably the single most painfully responsible person I’d ever met.

She gave me that look again. What did that mean? “I don’t know if he’ll come home to see…” she trailed off. “I don’t know if he’ll be home at all.”

Oddly, I felt my stomach sink. “Of course, Mrs. Morrison,” I replied, polite as always, ducking my head to hide the blush I knew was forming.

Her chuckle was sympathetic, pitying, frustrated, and mocking, all condensed into one short sound. “Goodbye, Deirdre,” she muttered, closing the door behind her.

Something a bit strange was going on here. Both of the elder Morrison family members knew about it, and they were trying to let me in on the secret, without actually letting me in. It was like they expected me to instinctively understand, and I didn’t, and that frustrated me. It had the underlying feel of something important, even vital.

With a quick jerk of my head—clearing my mind of whatever, for all my skills of observance, I wasn’t getting here—I made my way back into the family room. As if cued, Natalie and Lindsay were sitting on the couch, television off, waiting for my return.

I replied to their lost-puppy looks by smiling as genuinely as I knew how. “So, what are we doing tonight?” I asked affectionately.

It appeared that the answer to that was “bake cookies.” Sometime around eight—a time, I couldn’t help but think, that Bane would be leaving his cross country match or whatever it was called and heading for his date—I found myself decorating a sugar cookie with “pretty sprinkle pictures,” as per Lindsay’s direction.

Alright, I will admit, I was sort of getting more into it than any self-respecting eighteen year old should, but I come from a family of cooks. And my swirled purple-and-blue pattern was certainly a nice cookie. It would have done Aunt Maureen proud.

Lindsay was making her own “pretty sprinkle pictures,” and Natalie was placing the completed works of art on the baking sheet, almost reverently, for my depository in the oven. I was just placing the finishing touches on my masterpiece when Natalie asked, “Deirdre?”

“Yes, Natalie?” I replied, not looking up. I was oddly proud of this cookie. I mean, I’d only had to place the sprinkles individually.

“My brother wants to kiss you,” my six year old charge announced with assurance, almost causing me to put my elbow into my nearly completed cookie.

However, I managed to get off with only choking on my own spit, causing Lindsay to giggle uncontrollably. Little monster. “No… he doesn’t, Natalie,” I choked out, gasping for breath.

As solemnly as someone who is missing her two front teeth can, Natalie nodded. “He does. You’re his favorite, I know it. Like Lindsay is my favorite, only I don’t want to kiss her, because it only works like that when you’re big, like Bane.”

I really had no reply for this, and Natalie looked momentarily upset. “Are you big enough, Deirdre? Are you too little for Bane?”

“I’m older than Bane,” I informed her, my scrupulous honesty once again my undoing. “I’ve got a few weeks on him.”

She clapped her hands together like a gleeful child…er, because that’s what she was. “Oh, good. Bane will be happy, because you’re his favorite. And then you, me, Bane and Lindsay can play all the time, and his face will stop being all funny when he looks at you.”

It was almost cute, the way Natalie was mixing up frustration and aggravation with my being Bane’s “favorite.” Key word: almost.

Clearing my throat, I tried to illustrate a vital point to Natalie. “Bane went out tonight with another girl,” I muttered. I wanted to transmit the
idea of things, without actually having to say that Bane had another favorite, and that he wanted to kiss someone else.

Natalie was totally firm in her conviction. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she informed me, sternly in a way that only those of the under-ten age set can be. “You’re his favorite, and he looks at you funny because you don’t know it, and he wants to kiss you. Can we put these cookies in the oven now?”
----------------------------
comments?

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#48 princesskate14

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Posted 02 April 2008 - 08:03 PM

I shook my head, stifling my giggles. I mean, how could I not laugh when Bane came down the stairs wearing running shorts that even Katy would pale at wearing? And a muscle tee made out of some sort of ridiculously thin material? It was funny.

Placing Lindsay on the floor, Bane seemed to glance down at what he was wearing. He looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Shut up, Deirdre,” he muttered, without much conviction as I unsuccessfully dodged the swat he directed at my head. “It’s a uniform. I didn’t pick it out.” I pressed my lips together tightly.

I think that Bane would look HOT. Pure hotness, I say. But funny, nonetheless.

Bane cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I sort of have a date tonight.” Then, moving so quickly it startled me, he whipped his head around to gauge my reaction.


*CHOKES* What? What is this about a DATE? A DATE? A date-like event perhaps, but no a date? *hopeful* *sigh* I don't like Bane going out on dates. He doesn't like going out on dates. Deirdre doesn't like him going out on dates. Natalie doesn't like him going out on dates. NO ONE LIKES IT. So why do you torture us so? :(


“My brother wants to kiss you,” my six year old charge announced with assurance, almost causing me to put my elbow into my nearly completed cookie.


HAHA. Aw, Natalie, you are too adorable. And yes, he does want to kiss Deirdre. I KNOW IT. Because I am psychic and...I just know. Now why isn't it happening? That, I do not know.


*sigh* Gracey, you must update soon! Please? That was so good. It was well worth the wait but...things are getting good.

Please?

Much love,
Katie
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#49 P.O.G_Wannabee

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Posted 02 April 2008 - 08:20 PM

no. I simply will not accept this. I totally get it though it's a late april fools, because there is no way that Bane could possibly be going out on a date with some other girl-as in not Deirdre.

and in the slight chance that this wasen't an april fools joke, I kind of expected it. I mean honestly this story is called Deirdre of the Sorrows I can't imagine it ending with them kissing in the rain.


much love
Diana
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#50 Soccer_Fanatic

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Posted 02 April 2008 - 08:43 PM

Natalie was totally firm in her conviction. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she informed me, sternly in a way that only those of the under-ten age set can be. “You’re his favorite, and he looks at you funny because you don’t know it, and he wants to kiss you. Can we put these cookies in the oven now?”


Natalie's sweet, and so is her honesty...however brutally honest her honesty is to Deirdre. But isn't that part of a little kid's charm? They haven't been driven to lying like teenagers and adults. (Oh God, this sounds like my English chapter analyses...sorry :icon_lol: )
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#51 meems223

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 07:15 AM

wow this is a really good story XD!!!!
i really liked it thnx :)
please update soon
*MK*
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#52 peanut_butter

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 03:04 PM

*CHOKES* What? What is this about a DATE? A DATE? A date-like event perhaps, but no a date? *hopeful* *sigh* I don't like Bane going out on dates. He doesn't like going out on dates. Deirdre doesn't like him going out on dates. Natalie doesn't like him going out on dates. NO ONE LIKES IT. So why do you torture us so? :(

Much love,
Katie

Sorry, sugar. It's a date.

no. I simply will not accept this. I totally get it though it's a late april fools, because there is no way that Bane could possibly be going out on a date with some other girl-as in not Deirdre.

and in the slight chance that this wasen't an april fools joke, I kind of expected it. I mean honestly this story is called Deirdre of the Sorrows I can't imagine it ending with them kissing in the rain.
much love
Diana

Hahaha. The idea of Deirdre kissing in the rain is HILARIOUS. I <3 you, Diana!

Natalie's sweet, and so is her honesty...however brutally honest her honesty is to Deirdre. But isn't that part of a little kid's charm? They haven't been driven to lying like teenagers and adults. (Oh God, this sounds like my English chapter analyses...sorry :icon_lol: )

Hah, that's okay about the analysis. But that's basically what I was going for in Natalie. She's a prime candidate for Kids Say The Darnedest Things. :P

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#53 SoccerRules

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 04:00 PM

Natalie was totally firm in her conviction. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she informed me, sternly in a way that only those of the under-ten age set can be. “You’re his favorite, and he looks at you funny because you don’t know it, and he wants to kiss you. Can we put these cookies in the oven now?”


LMAO! Well isn't she the sartest of them all! lol That little girl sure seems to know what she's talking about. lol
I can not serious stop laughing, this was so funny. LOVED IT!
While I was reading this, my face gestures went from this-> :icon_eek: -> :blink: -> :) -> ^_^ -> :D -> :P -> :huh: to this-> :lol: :lol: :lol:

Cerra :mgwave:
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#54 Cabot~Fan

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 04:00 PM

The update was so cute! Natalie is adorable... I so love kids. They're just so cute!

And I have a bad feeling about this "date". It scares me. I don't like to be scared. *hides under covers*

Update soon!!!

~Chelsie~ ♥

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#55 SoccerRules

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 04:06 PM

Sorry, sugar. It's a date.

Hmm... will there necesarily have to be...kissing, in this date? <_<

Hahaha. The idea of Deirdre kissing in the rain is HILARIOUS. I <3 you, Diana!

Love,
Gracey :elmo:

Oh yes, too true. Can you see her kissing Bane in the rain with her foot popping up, like actresses always do it?
I should say not, to even picture would destroy Deidre's image! lol
It would go against all of what Deidre is. No, kissing in the rain, simply won't do.

Cerra
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#56 peanut_butter

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 09:36 PM

Hmm... will there necesarily have to be...kissing, in this date? <_<
Cerra

I"m saying nothing.

But I'm writing. Which means I can update soonish.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#57 SoccerRules

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Posted 05 April 2008 - 10:26 PM

well allright, as long as we get an update, then that's fine.

♥ Cerra
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#58 princess2293

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Posted 06 April 2008 - 12:04 AM

He is going on a DATE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!????? With someone who is NOT Dierdre!?!?!?!?!?!

And you gotta love little kids. :D They just love to speak their mind. [[:

Good. You're writing. Keep going. I want update. :P

hope.
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#59 noleey

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Posted 06 April 2008 - 02:07 AM

Aww! Kids are so observant! :D

Update soon!

Nicole
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#60 :)paige(:

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Posted 06 April 2008 - 04:19 AM

Hey!!!!
please update soon!

Paige
xxxx
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#61 SoccerRules

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Posted 06 April 2008 - 12:42 PM

You know Gracey I still can't let it go, wouldn't it be great if we were all as smart as little Natalie?
Maybe I wouldn't be so confused about a guy, if I were her.
Or maybe her talent to percieve things on other don't work on herself but can apply to others only.
hmm....
*walks away pondering in deep thought*

♥ Cerra
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#62 kgurlroxthiswurld

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Posted 09 April 2008 - 11:28 PM

I"m saying nothing.

But I'm writing. Which means I can update soonish.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:


Firstly, I'd like to inform you that I'm a crazy in love fangirl of yours and would like to bear your children. Secondly...hmmm...what was it? Oh yes, I remember: YOU ARE A GODDESS AND I LOVE YOU.

Seriously, yo. Just get published, because this is getting ridiculous. I mean, it's like you're taunting me with the awesomeness. Your story is a delicious pile of pasta covered with awesomesauce. That's right. I went all metaphorical on you.

Moving on, I'd like to illustrate my own dearest wish for how I'd like Bane's date to go. I offer this picture to you as a serious suggestion, and would love it if you got back to me on it. Seriously. Consider it.

Bane: Hoh hum, where's my date who is not Deirdre and therefore couldn't possibly provide me any entertainment/warmth/sexiness?
Date Who Is Not Deirdre: Yo. I think we were set up, yes?
Bane: Hahaha, you must be mistaken, for you are a man.
Date Who is a Man?: Am I?
Bane:...are you?
Date Who is...?: Yes. I am a man. Proven by this magnificent moustache.
Bane: Oh. Well clearly you must be mistaken for I'm not gay.
Date Who is a Confirmned Man: Neither am I.
Bane: Then why are we set up on a spectacular man date?
Date Who is a Man But Not Gay Yet Somehow Still On Man Date with Bane: I dunno. Might as well enjoy the dinner, though, eh?
Bane: I guess.

(The date proceeds awkwardly. Date Who is a Man But Not Gay Yet Somehow Still on Man Date with Bane becomes Date Who is a Man and a Little Interested on his Man Date with Bane, and Bane is very sorry that he decided to go on a man date instead of having a crazy makeout fest with Deirdre in his bedroom, at his house, which is where Deirdre was. You can see that her availability along with his being on a man date drives him wild with despair.)

Date Who is a Man And Possibly Now Turned Gay by Bane: So...I had a great time.
Bane: Eh.
Date Who is a Man and Possibly Now Turned Gay by Bane and Expecting a 'Fond' Farewell From Bane or Perhaps Not a Farewell at All for the Night *winkwink*: So...uh...you want to come to my place?
Bane: No. I mean, I don't think so. I'm busy. No. I'm not gay. I can't. I want to make sweet love to a girl at my house. No. Thank you.
Date Who is a Man and Definitely Now Turned Gay by Bane and is a Bit Slow: So that's a ...maybe?
Bane: Yeah, bye.
Date Who is a Man and Extremely Gay Thanks to Bane and is Desperate: Please baby, let's just mess around *attempts to kiss Bane*
Bane: *girlish shriek* AH! NO. NO. *slaps Gay Man Attacking Him*


Thus this is the story of Bane learning why it is always better to make out with Deirdre on a couch or something instead of going on dates with people who are not Deirdre.

Fin.

- Madly yours, Kris
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#63 soccerforwardnumba10

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Posted 10 April 2008 - 04:51 PM

^^ Ha! Kris, you are a genius!! And seriously good updates, Gracey. I think I had a heart attack when you described his outfit and then i just wanted to steal him away!
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#64 Lannfo75

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Posted 10 April 2008 - 05:22 PM

That was absolutely amazing Gracey!

I thought it was so cute how Natalie was pointing out what she thought was the obvious to Deirdre. But when is Deirdre going to see that she's actually right? *sigh*

The description of Bane in his running outfit was hilarious! My brother sometimes wears that kind of clothing and it's always so funny to see him wear them, since it doesn't fit him and stuff. But I would think Bane would totally look a whole lot better than my brother, and hot of course. :D

Update soon!

~Lauren
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#65 peanut_butter

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Posted 10 April 2008 - 06:50 PM

Firstly, I'd like to inform you that I'm a crazy in love fangirl of yours and would like to bear your children. Secondly...hmmm...what was it? Oh yes, I remember: YOU ARE A GODDESS AND I LOVE YOU.

Seriously, yo. Just get published, because this is getting ridiculous. I mean, it's like you're taunting me with the awesomeness. Your story is a delicious pile of pasta covered with awesomesauce. That's right. I went all metaphorical on you.

Moving on, I'd like to illustrate my own dearest wish for how I'd like Bane's date to go. I offer this picture to you as a serious suggestion, and would love it if you got back to me on it. Seriously. Consider it.
...

Fin.

- Madly yours, Kris

O.O
Kris, I have never before had anyone write me a whole potential dialogue for one of my stories. I've heard the urban myths, but didn't believe it could happen. You seriously made me so happy I don't even know what to do with myself.

Except maybe work on the story for you all.

(I'm so sorry. I've been SO BUSY. See the blood spotting this paper? That's from my eyeballs, brought about from high levels of busy. It's a rare condition. It's called AllergicToBusy. Deadly.)

But, if you choose to believe it like that, sure, Bane's date went that way, except for the vaguely homophobic part at the end. But other than that, sure.

(Actually, he went on a date with the girl from their Calculus class from Day One. Remember her? That's my pseudo-teaser.)

ANYWAY.

Right now, I am going to write for a very long time, completely ignoring my history homework in lieu of love for you all. Seriously, thanks for hanging in with me.

Grovelingly and gratefully yours,
Gracey :elmo:
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#66 HoplessRomantic02

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Posted 11 April 2008 - 05:36 AM

He looks at you funny is possibly the most quoteable line EVAH!
This update was really nice Gracey.
I had a dream about cookies!!
I know, even my dreams are pathetic.
Mmmmmmmmm Bane in shorts and tight tees. Hilariously hot hot HOT.

-MiMi xx
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#67 peanut_butter

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Posted 14 April 2008 - 06:05 PM

Alright, I'm giving you an update, but it's the last long one I have written, so you might have to wait eight gagillion years before the next one, because I'm SWAMPED with schoolwork.

But this one is damn long.
------------------------------------
As it turns out, when you’re alone in a house with two sleeping children, and you don’t watch television, and you don’t really feel like reading, there isn’t much to do. Normally on nights like these, I would listen to Katy tell me about her crush on some boy or other, or work on Memorandum pages, or write a poem or something.

But tonight, I had no Katy, no Memorandum pages, and no paper. This, I deduced, left me with very few options. So, at nine ten, roughly eight minutes after I got both Natalie and Lindsay in bed, I myself retired for the night.

And I woke to the sound of something moving in my room.

Well, actually it wasn’t the moving sound that woke me up, and it actually wasn’t my room. But I woke to the sensation of something jarring against the bed, and it was in the room in which I had previously been sleeping. Semantics, friends, semantics.

Sitting up as quietly as I could manage, I balled my hands into fists, and tried to quiet my racing heart, sure that my intruder could hear it. My head was cool, as per my norm, but I wasn’t calm. This is excitement, Deirdre of the Sorrows. Learn it.

The sneaker’s feet shuffled quietly across the carpet, indicating that in all probability they were wearing shoes. I swung one leg over the edge of the bed, wincing ever so slightly as the cold air hit where my shorts ended. The doorknob squeaked, and I used its noise to stand fully and take a few steps forward. This wasn’t one of the girls, I knew, from the noise (and, conversely, size) of the person. This was an unknown, and I was creeping up on him. Clever.

Now, I realize that confronting some creep who was possibly armed, possibly dangerous, and definitely a criminal isn’t typical protocol, but you need to remember that I was responsible for Natalie and Lindsay. Besides, my sense of self preservation has always been a bit skewed. I held no respect for my lack of physical ability.

I crept forward as the intruder winced at the doorknob’s noise. Years of silence were on my side here, don’t you know. Only a few steps separated us when the unknown opened the door, throwing his profile into high relief…

“Bane,” I sighed.

His reaction was almost good enough to instill a belief in karma. Unaware of my presence right behind him, Bane jumped, gasped, and whirled. Then, he tried to look all nonchalant, by leaning against the doorframe, but missed and landed on his, erm, derriere in the hallway.

I couldn’t help myself. It was simply too funny for years of self control to undermine. I slid down against the doorjamb in helpless laughter, even though the sudden light was hurting my eyes. I rested my head in my hands, giggling silently, able to feel Bane’s self-mocking, rueful laughter through the vibrations of the floorboards.

Then, playfully—but I was oh so conscious of the contact—Bane lifted me from under my arms, and half-led, half-dragged me back into the room, shutting the door behind us. Side by side, his heat warmed one of my two arms. It felt nice—the house was cold on a December night.

“I didn’t want to wake Natalie and Linnie,” Bane whispered in way of apology. I shrugged as well as I was able; my body was pinning my hair to the door. “I didn’t want to wake you, either,” he amended.

Wrinkling my nose, not accounting for the fact that Bane couldn’t see in the darkness, I asked, “Then why did you?”

The emotion in his voice was impossible to place without being able to see the accompanying expression. “Just checking,” he muttered. I bit my lip, halfway to wanting to ask for precisely what he was checking, but I decided against it.

Our pause of silence stretched into minutes, and I leaned my head against the door, seeing no reason to move. But eventually the cold got the best of me; I shivered, and Bane flinched away concernedly.

“You’re cold?” he asked, fluttering over me like the old mother hen I sometimes suspected him to be. “Get back in bed.”

I pouted, but rose to my feet as Bane tugged on my hand. “We were talking,” I protested, though it was a stretch of the term “talking.” Or perhaps the stretch was of “were.” But, now that I’d had my fright for the evening, I didn’t want to have to be in the dark room alone. It was childish, but true.

Chuckling quietly, Bane propelled me towards the promise of warmth with one hand on the small of my back. “Alright, brat, if you’re willing to talk, I won’t be the one to deny you. And I suppose it’s not quite past your bedtime, yet. But get under the covers. You must be freezing.”

I obeyed without complaining; freezing I certainly was. Bane leaned up against the footboard, swinging one leg up so that it lay parallel to mine. “What time is it, then?” I asked, picking up on one of his earlier comments. A peaceful mood seemed to emanate from the darkness, a darkness which my eyes were slowly adjusting to. I could just make out Bane’s shape and the wry tilt to his head.

“It’s only a little past ten, brat,” he teased, as if I should have known this. “I was surprised that you were asleep already.” He swung his other leg up, and somehow this seemed like the start of a tremendous endeavor, casting off from the anchor that was the ground, unable to turn back until everything had panned out.

Shaking my head slightly, I chased out the ideas and crazy metaphors that came from being woken too confusedly. I didn’t like waking up in strange places, let alone also under strange circumstances. I didn’t like waking up under strange circumstances, let alone in strange places.

It was almost comical, the list of things that scared me, or made me uncomfortable, or that I didn’t like. In fact, if they hadn’t, you know, scared me, it would definitely be funny. But it wasn’t objective thinking that constituted fears.

“What happened to your date?” I asked Bane, my stomach twanging a little on the word “date.” That was so weird. “Your mother said not to expect you home until late.” I didn’t add, or at all.

Bane sighed, moving fluidly to lean down on one elbow. I squished further under the blankets, feeling oddly secure in this unknown environment. “A bust, brat. It was with that weird girl from our calc class. The one with the really, really annoying voice?”

My eyes popped. Brunette had finally gotten her wish: a date with her “gorgeous” boy. “Brunette?” I asked.

The skepticism in Bane’s voice was dripping. “Uh, that’s not her name, but sure. Anyway, she thought it was cool to make fun of this mentally challenged kid who was cleaning tables, and I was like, ‘Are you on crack? It’s so awesome for him that he has a job.’ And then she seemed to think I was joking, and teased me about how I had a thing for weirdoes. It was all, ‘You hang out with that emo Deirdre chick…’” He trailed off. “I’m sorry, Deirdre, I wasn’t thinking.”

The barest hint of a smile formed on my face. I wasn’t insulted, but I wasn’t happy about it, either. “Don’t worry about it,” I assured him.

He was beating himself up about this. I could hear it in his voice. “No, that was so careless of me. I’m just really sorry.”

Rolling my eyes, I thought how tedious it would be if he didn’t let this go. “Really, Bane,” I insisted. “It’s fine. I don’t care what Brunette thinks of me.”

Sounding as if it were simply too good to be true, Bane whispered, “You’re sure?”

“I offer this fluffy pillow as a peace offering,” I allowed, patting it. I realized belatedly that this could be seen as inappropriate in so many situations. By my figuring, this was far too platonic and usual for it to apply. But I was essentially inviting Bane into bed with me.

After hesitating for just a beat too long, he muttered a “sure,” and crawled up next to me. I heard a thunk and then its partner noise as Bane kicked his shoes to the floor. At this proximity, I could see the contours of Bane’s expression, though the emotion of his eyes—the most readable factor—were still cloaked as pools of darkness.

Bane bent his arm, tucking it up under his head, and for a moment, his elbow was touching mine. Instinctively, I flinched away from the unexpected contact. Feeling guilty for it—though I wasn’t quite sure why—I allowed the contact to resume, as a sort of makeshift apology.

It wasn’t your usual place of contact, elbows. Touching hands was as common as breathing the same air, and touching lips was hopelessly clichéd. But elbows were interesting.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked Bane, who was lying rigidly, as if he were made of chitin instead of flesh.

His smile was rueful. “How in third grade, everyone would run around saying, ‘I can see your weenus!’ and people who didn’t know that it meant that flap of skin on your elbow would be appalled, and the jokester would have good laugh.” Mirroring the jokester from his past, my editor laughed softly. “It was lame, but really funny then.”

It seemed bizarre, to think of Bane in third grade. He just wouldn’t be Bane, if he weren’t always being responsible with his sisters, or didn’t have a potential Memorandum page in the back of his pocket, waiting for one of us to edit, or puffing up his hair with both hands when stressed.
“What was it like?” I asked, genuinely curious. “When you were in third grade, I mean.”

A dark line on the face of Bane—an eyebrow, perhaps—shifted in a generally northern direction. “What was it like?” he echoed. “It was—well, it was third grade. I imagine that it was pretty much the same as anyone’s third grade.” He sounded confused, unequipped to properly answer the question.

I pursed my lips through my smile. Third grade had been a bad year. “It’s just…who were you friends with? What were you like? It’s hard to imagine you before you came here.”

The amusement in his voice was evident. “Much as it may seem like it recently, Deirdre, I didn’t always so deeply depend on your presence and opinions. Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t always the staple of my friendships.”

Moments of silence rang loudly. I simply didn’t know what to say to this, this complete declaration of friendship and—and admiration. Sighing in closer, I all but closed the point of our configuration—an A of sorts, a scarlet letter of a different sort, made from the close contact of our heads extending out to the distance that separated our feet. The contact of our elbows—and a bit of forearms, now that I’d shown my hint of approval—completed the image.

“Who was your best friend, back then?” I asked when the silence grew so long that I’d begun to fear that Bane had fallen asleep.

And, surely enough, Bane’s voice sounded a little sleepy. “Cooper Cholera Crackhead,” he muttered smilingly. “Back in the day, it was just the two of us, putting spiders on Salamander’s desk to make her scream.” He was obviously still amused by the memory, despite the brutishness of the action.

Being the excellent person that I am, I decided not to remark upon this. “You knew a girl named Salamander?” I asked, very politely.

“Nah, her name was Sarah. But we called her Salamander because…well, actually I forget why. But we did.” I grimaced. For a while, in middle school, Katy had thought it cute to call me “Dingbat Deirdre.” I could sympathize with poor Sarah Salamander. I closed my eyes; my eyelids were drooping, and it was easier to keep up with my thoughts when I didn’t have visual distractions.

But my racing thoughts, never par to speed with my actions, had already flitted past pity, and were wondering more about Bane. “Was it so hard, then,” I asked, genuinely curious about another person for the first time in living memory, “to move here, away from all your friends?”

A moment of silence followed my question; I was genuinely glad that he was giving my questions consideration. It was nice to be respected so. “It really sucked at first. I mean, it’s my senior year, and now I don’t get to graduate with the friends I’ve had since elementary school.” I could hear the smile in his voice as he continued. “But I made some friends through cross country, and you.” He flicked the side of my head, and I opened my eyes.

His smile gleamed white in the darkness. “Sometimes I think being friends with you is like taking a crash course in Psychology, brat.” His hand lingered near my face for a moment, and then fell back to his side.

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” I teased, closing my eyes again. Through the springs of the mattress, I could feel Bane’s breathing, and it felt nice. It was almost a lullaby, soothing me into sleep. Still, I didn’t know when I’d have this much courage again, so I pressed forward with my questions.

“Why haven’t—” Bane cut me off.

“Why do you get to ask all the questions?” he asked teasingly, placing his hand gently on the side of my face. I shivered briefly, and wanted to ask him to take it away, but didn’t want to end this information train.

I consoled myself with the fact that this was Bane, and that we had touched before. However, it had never been quite so…intimate. It wasn’t that I necessarily disliked it, but I knew that I definitely wasn’t comfortable with it. I wasn’t one to travel outside my comfort zone.

Thinking while his hand was on my face like that—I kept my eyes tightly shut; I didn’t want to see his expression—was impossibly difficult. “You could ask questions…I guess,” I muttered haltingly, not really able to concentrate on the words.

His hand slid from my cheek to a place on the pillow right beneath my chin. This was better, but not significantly. I shivered on the slide. “Why don’t you talk like normal people?” I could feel his sigh as he struggled to find exactly what he wanted to say. It was concerning that I knew when he meant what he said and when he didn’t. It was a level of knowing that went far too high. “That wasn’t phrased right.”

Patiently, I waited for him to rephrase the way he wanted, though I hadn’t been offended by his first phrasing.

“Why don’t you…you know. You don’t start conversations, or continue them, if you can help it. I mean, you talk to me, but that took a while. I was wondering, I guess, why you did that.” The hesitation in Bane’s voice would have been entertaining if I wasn’t so concerned with what he was asking.

Under normal circumstances, I might have refused to answer a question like this. But I felt like I owed Bane something, for staying here when I was a little spooked, and for being so honest, and for standing up for me when Brunette insulted me, and for not ignoring me like everyone
else did.

“It started out that I couldn’t do it,” I admitted ruefully. “Right after my mom…well, you know. It was like if I tried to talk, things hurt.” I swallowed hard, and then Bane’s thumb was on my chin, moving slightly.

Thank you, bane of my existence. Because that makes things so much easier. “After that,” I continued shakily, “silence became a habit. It seemed like a waste of breath to talk unless I had something important to say.

“And then it just became some sort of personal challenge.” That sounded a bit ridiculous aloud—maybe that was why I’d never admitted it before. “Could I really get on without speaking unless spoken to?” my tone was infinitesimally wry. “And I found out that I could.”

It seemed that darkness was making Bane bold, in a way that didn’t make sense. It was almost as if he wasn’t content to only understand intellectually—he wanted to be friends physically, and cut down more barriers. He was always cutting down barriers.

Sighing as his fingers intertwined with my hair, Bane corrected me. “You weren’t getting on,” he admonished gently, brushing the base of my neck with his hand. “You were living, but not really surviving, Deirdre. The scars on your arm will attest to that.”

“Scar,” I corrected.

I could only imagine how he was rolling his eyes now, eternally exasperated with my semantics. “Whatever, Deirdre.” I smiled slightly, tilting my face towards the pillow. Bane pulled away from me, as if I had stabbed him with something rather than shifted.

When neither of us continued on the path we’d been travelling verbally, I decided that it was, by default, my turn to ask the question.

Inexplicably, I wanted to know more. It was like I’d reached the climax in a book, and even though I knew I’d be sad when it was over, I lacked the self-restraint to put it down. “Why do you hang out with me so much?”

Apparently tonight was full of shocks for Bane. “What?” he echoed, as if he could not have possibly heard correctly.

He was receiving no repetition from me. He had heard.

“Why do I hang out with you so much? We’re friends, Deirdre. I like hanging out with you. What kind of stupid question is that?”

“Oh,” I muttered softly. Then, mentally, I scolded myself. When had I become so jaded, so suspicious, that everyone had to have an ulterior motive for everything? Why couldn’t I have come up with so simple a conclusion that Bane liked hanging out with me?

And yet, even as I knew the answer, it seemed preposterous. I had spent practically the past decade emotionally and mentally shutting people out, keeping a safe proximity, because being liked was the gateway drug of emotional pain.

The two parts of my brain battled it out in silent argument—the part that was probably saner, saying that being liked was good, that it would make me happier, that Bane and I made a good pair, and having someone that I could rely on would improve things. The practical, clever part argued that I didn’t need people—hadn’t the last ten years been a show of that? After all, I was ranked number one in my class (though Bane could probably give me a run for my money, and maybe one of the Harvard Summer Campers), I was cruising along in school with little or no trouble, and I had the second-highest position on an extracurricular that mattered to me. I had a family that I got along with well enough—we certainly understood each other—but we were distant enough that when I had to leave in six months, everyone would be just fine.

There was the bottom line, really: People were well and good enough, but I didn’t need them. And, so long as I kept it so that when we were separated, it didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, I would be fine.

I had made that mistake with my mother. Back when I was young, trusting too easily, loving too freely, I had cared too much for her. I’d cared too much for her, and for Lucia, and for the friends that I’d made and lost and had wrenched from me. I was Deirdre of the Sorrows.
Love was the luxury of those with more fortunate a nature. Fate had conspired against me from the start.

Confusion like this hadn’t been my companion in a long while. I was all but certain that I didn’t like it. But, as the temptation of reverting to isolation threatened to overcome me, I was struck by a sudden flash. It wasn’t a flashback, as were any memories of that fateful day with my mother, but rather a flash forward, or as forward as a possibility could be.

Bane and I were sitting at the restaurant in Chicago, with Cooper and Samantha, though our seating configuration was different than the one when we’d been there for the conference. Samantha and Cooper were making eyes at each other across the table, and Bane and I were exchanging bemused looks whenever we noticed. The air of friendship was heavy, almost smothering, but in the most pleasant way.

“Care to dance?” Bane asked me with that customary smile, the one that was a little mischievous, but mostly sincere. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, in a nice way, not in the way that was confusing and uncomfortable.

I took his hand without thinking about it, fingers laced through fingers, the way it had been in New York. I felt…good.


Lying there in bed, I snapped my eyes open, as if real sight could prevent the confounding images from flitting past my mind’s eye. When my subconscious—where

I assumed these flashes came from—made such a compelling case for me to not retreat once more, it was hard to ignore it. I was allowing my daydreaming to get too far out of hand.

Unsure of how long I’d been thinking so hard, I peered closely into Bane’s face. I wanted a why, suddenly curious to know not only that he did like me, but why he felt so. But his eyes were closed, and his breathing so even that he couldn’t be anything but sleeping.

I uttered my first unnecessary word in over nine years: “Bane?”

Even though he was definitely asleep—the way his face was so smooth and peaceful and uncharacteristic for the usually-stressed Bane—his hand found mine in the dark. “Deirdre,” he muttered in reply, the word garbled by sleep.

For a moment, I tensed; this was so wrong on so many levels, set both by my own longing for boundaries, and the boundaries set by society.

But then I relaxed, soothed by the knowledge that I’d never been the ideal member of society anyway, and that my lines were blurring beyond recognition.
-----------------------
comments?

Chew on that one, duckies.
Foreshadowing? Maybe, maybe not.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#68 kgurlroxthiswurld

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Posted 14 April 2008 - 06:46 PM

^^ Ha! Kris, you are a genius!! And seriously good updates, Gracey. I think I had a heart attack when you described his outfit and then i just wanted to steal him away!


I...try?

O.O
Kris, I have never before had anyone write me a whole potential dialogue for one of my stories. I've heard the urban myths, but didn't believe it could happen. You seriously made me so happy I don't even know what to do with myself.

Except maybe work on the story for you all.

(I'm so sorry. I've been SO BUSY. See the blood spotting this paper? That's from my eyeballs, brought about from high levels of busy. It's a rare condition. It's called AllergicToBusy. Deadly.)

But, if you choose to believe it like that, sure, Bane's date went that way, except for the vaguely homophobic part at the end. But other than that, sure.

(Actually, he went on a date with the girl from their Calculus class from Day One. Remember her? That's my pseudo-teaser.)

ANYWAY.

Right now, I am going to write for a very long time, completely ignoring my history homework in lieu of love for you all. Seriously, thanks for hanging in with me.

Grovelingly and gratefully yours,
Gracey :elmo:


Well, that's good, because Gracey being happy makes me happy, because Gracey happy means she's open to new and thought-provoking ideas *eyebrow raise*. Oh my darling, I'm so sorry for your condition. I'd come and beat up Busy for you, but I fear I'm coming down with a case of Physics Overwhelment. It's horrifying, I know. Hopefully I'll make it out alive.

Yes, I do choose to believe that Brunette is in all actuality a dude and the date most definitely went that way.

Epic cheer for ignoring homework!

Oh my god, your latest chapter!

It blew my mind. Seriously, I was just completely in awe of the quality. It was just...ah, it was perfection. I'm flabbergasted. The progression in the relationship between Deirdre and Bane, the barriers being broken, the comedic relief, Deirdre's narrating...the end of the chapter...all were better than I could imagine. I can't even voice possible improvements. Just...do what you do, and I will be eternally happy.

-Kris
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#69 Mediator17

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Posted 14 April 2008 - 06:46 PM

HOW COME NOBODY TOLD ME GRACEY UPDATED LIKE THREE TIMES?

and oh my sweet applesauce it was brilliant beyond belief, G.

1. Bane's Date.
I'm putting in a vote for The Man Date. It would be spectacular, Gracey. It really would. As for Brunette, in my honest opinion, you should include a crazy melodramatic breakup scene between her and Bane in which Bane informs her that she's the scum of his existance and that he is In Love with Deirdre his sweet lover and that he's off to attest to her every wish and fantasy and she will rip out some of her hair and mope in a toilet stall. ;)

2. Lindsey and Natalie.
Honestly, Bane and Deirdre. Just look at this. The eight-year-olds are so much effing smarter than everyone else. I think people simply get dumber with age. If we all let babies become supreme dictators, we would be so much better off.

3. Bane's Mom.
My feelings on her are 50/50. I think she's got good intentions, but I wish she would just come out and say it.

4. The Scene In Which Bane And Deirdre Were So Obviously Making Deliriously Wonderful Telepathic Love To One and Other In The Same Effing Bed.
Um, G? You are a genius. This scene could only but be the creation of such a genius and I think we should all screw establishment and go worship the dirt on Gracey's toenails which I'm sure are quite a spectacle themselves. This scene, G - it was amazing. I loved Deirdre's insights. We learn so much more about her and dear lord the girl is SMART but oh so frustratingly oblivious. HOW CAN THEY NOT REALIZE THEY WERE MAKING TELEPATHIC LOVE TO ONE AND OTHER ON THAT BED?
You know they were Gracey. I know you know.
and the chin stroking?? You. Are. Driving. Me. Insane. I'm having an uncontrollable Banegasm here everytime I read about one of his unbelievably seductive moves like elbow kissing or chin stroking or cheek touching. The boy is such a tease.

5. Overall consensus.
I love you and you are brilliant and your writing is amazing and Deirdre is amazing and someday there will be a Gracey Shrine dedicated to your toenails just watch.

:heartbeat:

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#70 kgurlroxthiswurld

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Posted 14 April 2008 - 06:48 PM

HOW COME NOBODY TOLD ME GRACEY UPDATED LIKE THREE TIMES?

and oh my sweet applesauce it was brilliant beyond belief, G.

1. Bane's Date.
I'm putting in a vote for The Man Date. It would be spectacular, Gracey. It really would. As for Brunette, in my honest opinion, you should include a crazy melodramatic breakup scene between her and Bane in which Bane informs her that she's the scum of his existance and that he is In Love with Deirdre his sweet lover and that he's off to attest to her every wish and fantasy and she will rip out some of her hair and mope in a toilet stall. ;)

2. Lindsey and Natalie.
Honestly, Bane and Deirdre. Just look at this. The eight-year-olds are so much effing smarter than everyone else. I think people simply get dumber with age. If we all let babies become supreme dictators, we would be so much better off.

3. Bane's Mom.
My feelings on her are 50/50. I think she's got good intentions, but I wish she would just come out and say it.

4. The Scene In Which Bane And Deirdre Were So Obviously Making Deliriously Wonderful Telepathic Love To One and Other In The Same Effing Bed.
Um, G? You are a genius. This scene could only but be the creation of such a genius and I think we should all screw establishment and go worship the dirt on Gracey's toenails which I'm sure are quite a spectacle themselves. This scene, G - it was amazing. I loved Deirdre's insights. We learn so much more about her and dear lord the girl is SMART but oh so frustratingly oblivious. HOW CAN THEY NOT REALIZE THEY WERE MAKING TELEPATHIC LOVE TO ONE AND OTHER ON THAT BED?
You know they were Gracey. I know you know.
and the chin stroking?? You. Are. Driving. Me. Insane. I'm having an uncontrollable Banegasm here everytime I read about one of his unbelievably seductive moves like elbow kissing or chin stroking or cheek touching. The boy is such a tease.

5. Overall consensus.
I love you and you are brilliant and your writing is amazing and Deirdre is amazing and someday there will be a Gracey Shrine dedicated to your toenails just watch.

:heartbeat:



Agree on...

EVERYTHING YOU JUST WROTE.

Let us all worship the marvelousness of Gracey!

-Kris
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#71 Soccer_Fanatic

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Posted 14 April 2008 - 08:35 PM

There was the bottom line, really: People were well and good enough, but I didn’t need them. And, so long as I kept it so that when we were separated, it didn’t matter, didn’t hurt, I would be fine.

That line is so true on so many levels...


The boy is such a tease.


...and I have no choice but to agree with Mel.
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#72 peanut_butter

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Posted 14 April 2008 - 09:02 PM

I...try?
Well, that's good, because Gracey being happy makes me happy, because Gracey happy means she's open to new and thought-provoking ideas *eyebrow raise*. Oh my darling, I'm so sorry for your condition. I'd come and beat up Busy for you, but I fear I'm coming down with a case of Physics Overwhelment. It's horrifying, I know. Hopefully I'll make it out alive. 1.

Yes, I do choose to believe that Brunette is in all actuality a dude and the date most definitely went that way. 2.

Epic cheer for ignoring homework!

Oh my god, your latest chapter!

It blew my mind. Seriously, I was just completely in awe of the quality. It was just...ah, it was perfection. I'm flabbergasted. The progression in the relationship between Deirdre and Bane, the barriers being broken, the comedic relief, Deirdre's narrating...the end of the chapter...all were better than I could imagine. I can't even voice possible improvements. Just...do what you do, and I will be eternally happy. 3.

-Kris

1. AAAAAH FEAR! Fear the Physics Overwhelment! I actually am forgoeing the whole Physics things, and taking AP Bio and then dropping science for my senior year. Because education is for lozerrs.

2. Uhm, yeah, about that. Girl. Sorry.

3. Well, I'm glad you liked it. I shall continue to, erm, continue in a similar matter.

HOW COME NOBODY TOLD ME GRACEY UPDATED LIKE THREE TIMES? 1a.

and oh my sweet applesauce it was brilliant beyond belief, G.

1. Bane's Date.
I'm putting in a vote for The Man Date. It would be spectacular, Gracey. It really would. As for Brunette, in my honest opinion, you should include a crazy melodramatic breakup scene between her and Bane in which Bane informs her that she's the scum of his existance and that he is In Love with Deirdre his sweet lover and that he's off to attest to her every wish and fantasy and she will rip out some of her hair and mope in a toilet stall. ;)

2. Lindsey and Natalie.
Honestly, Bane and Deirdre. Just look at this. The eight-year-olds are so much effing smarter than everyone else. I think people simply get dumber with age. If we all let babies become supreme dictators, we would be so much better off.

3. Bane's Mom.
My feelings on her are 50/50. I think she's got good intentions, but I wish she would just come out and say it.

4. The Scene In Which Bane And Deirdre Were So Obviously Making Deliriously Wonderful Telepathic Love To One and Other In The Same Effing Bed.
Um, G? You are a genius. This scene could only but be the creation of such a genius and I think we should all screw establishment and go worship the dirt on Gracey's toenails which I'm sure are quite a spectacle themselves. This scene, G - it was amazing. I loved Deirdre's insights. We learn so much more about her and dear lord the girl is SMART but oh so frustratingly oblivious. HOW CAN THEY NOT REALIZE THEY WERE MAKING TELEPATHIC LOVE TO ONE AND OTHER ON THAT BED?
You know they were Gracey. I know you know.
and the chin stroking?? You. Are. Driving. Me. Insane. I'm having an uncontrollable Banegasm here everytime I read about one of his unbelievably seductive moves like elbow kissing or chin stroking or cheek touching. The boy is such a tease.

5. Overall consensus.
I love you and you are brilliant and your writing is amazing and Deirdre is amazing and someday there will be a Gracey Shrine dedicated to your toenails just watch.

:heartbeat:

1a. Yeah, uhm, I dunno, actually.

1. FINE. YOU ALL WIN. SHE WAS A MAN.
(Of course, that means I have to cut out a very, very cute scene coming up, but whatever. You all insisted she was a man.)

2. We could use my baby sister as the baby dictator. She's three, and a really smart baby. Except she's really afraid of bears. So we might have to do something about the world's bears.

3. She's kind of the toss-up element of this whole thing.

4. That boy is SUCH a tease. Only it doesn't really count, for lack of romantic intentions. But, I mean, if Deirdre were, say, ME, then yeah, he'd be a damn tease. I'm glad you like the insights, though. For me, the story is really all about Deirdre's personal transformation. Yay coming-of-age novel!

5. Thank you, Mel. Even though that's a little creepy.

That line is so true on so many levels...

Tragic awareness, anyone?

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#73 Ami

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Posted 15 April 2008 - 06:36 AM

Gosh! I've missed two updates! >.<

My panic lessened as I rationalized this away. Maybe in your average person, the realization that they had made a friend wasn’t that big of a deal, but I’d never been average. Average people didn’t have names that meant “sorrow.” Average people didn’t have birthdays that marked the anniversaries of their mothers’ deaths. Average people had known their fathers. Average people talked for leisure. Average people were average, and delightfully so.

I fell in love with this paragraph, I honestly did. :)


Natalie was totally firm in her conviction. “That doesn’t mean anything,” she informed me, sternly in a way that only those of the under-ten age set can be. “You’re his favorite, and he looks at you funny because you don’t know it, and he wants to kiss you. Can we put these cookies in the oven now?”

Give the girl a medal! :eusa_clap:

I really had no reply for this, and Natalie looked momentarily upset. “Are you big enough, Deirdre? Are you too little for Bane?”

I could totally imagine her saying that to Dierdre!

Then, he tried to look all nonchalant, by leaning against the doorframe, but missed and landed on his, erm, derriere in the hallway.

Okay, so since I am the dimwit I am, could you please tell me what a derriere is please? Sorry, my vocabulary is extremely limited >.<

So, all-in-all..

LOVED THE UPDATES!!

They were all so awesome and well written!

I love Dierdre's thoughts, and the way she thinks. It written in such a genius way!

Luuuuuuuuurve, Ami . . X
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#74 peanut_butter

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Posted 15 April 2008 - 04:52 PM

Okay, so since I am the dimwit I am, could you please tell me what a derriere is please? Sorry, my vocabulary is extremely limited >.<


Butt. Rear. Ass. Gluteus maximus. Behind. Bottom. Tush.

Damn, I can't think of any more. I was testing myself.

Love, the synonym game.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#75 SoccerRules

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Posted 15 April 2008 - 09:45 PM

Whoo! Loved it! It was the bomb Gracey! You rocked it!
Cerra
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#76 Ami

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Posted 16 April 2008 - 03:44 AM

Butt. Rear. Ass. Gluteus maximus. Behind. Bottom. Tush.

Damn, I can't think of any more. I was testing myself.

Love, the synonym game.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:

Haha. Bum, buttucks? Arse, if you like :P

Thanks though! :) Another word to add to my vocab :D

Luuuuuurve, Ami . . X
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#77 lily_li14

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Posted 16 April 2008 - 02:55 PM

So. Good.

I uttered my first unnecessary word in over nine years: “Bane?”


For some reason, this is one of my favorite sentences ever. Symbolism, mayhaps, that 'Bane' is her first unnecessary word, as well as her first unnecessary friend? And that all this un-necessity could, in fact, lead to necessity? And if so---

Okay Lily, stop analyzing and shut your face. Er...hands?

tl;dr: In the vast pasta dish of life, Gracey and her story are the sauce. The good part!

Man, weirdest analogy I've ever made.
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#78 SoccerRules

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Posted 16 April 2008 - 07:47 PM

Mel, you said it all!
I agree Gracey is driving us insane with Deidre,
making it look as if something is going to happen,
like her eyes will open to the revelation of what sweet Natalie
was true but then slam! Gracey finds one way or another to kill
our hopes.*shakes head*
♥ Cerra
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#79 peanut_butter

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Posted 16 April 2008 - 09:05 PM

So. Good.
For some reason, this is one of my favorite sentences ever. Symbolism, mayhaps, that 'Bane' is her first unnecessary word, as well as her first unnecessary friend? And that all this un-necessity could, in fact, lead to necessity? And if so---

Okay Lily, stop analyzing and shut your face. Er...hands?

tl;dr: In the vast pasta dish of life, Gracey and her story are the sauce. The good part!

Man, weirdest analogy I've ever made.

Lily, your comments never fail to make me very happy. I just thought you ought to know that.

That's the best analysis ever.

Also, the best analogy. Thanks. :)

Mel, you said it all!
I agree Gracey is driving us insane with Deidre,
making it look as if something is going to happen,
like her eyes will open to the revelation of what sweet Natalie
was true but then slam! Gracey finds one way or another to kill
our hopes.*shakes head*
♥ Cerra

It's not me. It's Deirdre. So not my fault.

Thanks, guys! Just letting you know I won't be around until Sunday. Let's hope disaster doesn't strike, eh?

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#80 noleey

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Posted 16 April 2008 - 11:57 PM

SO GOOD.

:D

:D

:D

And like, heart stoppingly cute..


Nicole
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#81 SoccerRules

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Posted 18 April 2008 - 02:06 AM

^^ you ain't getting away that easily,
I mean hello? You are the one that puts
the words in her mouth, you are her creator,
need I remind you of that Missy?
♥ Cerra
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#82 jules is cool

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Posted 19 April 2008 - 04:08 AM

HEY!!!

NEW READER!!

May i just say that Gracey you are one of
the best writers ever!!

OK i agree with Cerra what you do is cruel
and unusual punishment!!

I love this story it is pure genius so please
update sooooon!!!

#Jules
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#83 peanut_butter

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Posted 21 April 2008 - 04:14 PM

Thanks, guys. I'm having a rough few days ahead of me, work wise, so I don't know that I'll be able to update soon.

But I will. Just maybe not this week.

Sorry.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#84 princesskate14

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Posted 21 April 2008 - 04:33 PM

I was away for a week and come back to an update!!! *does happy dance* YAY!!! I was so happy to see it!! And then I was even happier when I read that Bane and Deirdre were lying in the same bed, touching, holding hands, talking...awwwwwwwwwww. So sweet. <333 Gracey, you are amazing, and I love you and you are a fantabulous writer.

Loved the update very much. :D

Love,
Katie
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#85 Ami

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Posted 21 April 2008 - 04:41 PM

Gracey, take your time :) I'll wait. Lol.

Luuuuuuurve, Ami . . X
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#86 StrawberryPrincess

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Posted 22 April 2008 - 06:03 AM

I´ve just read all the updates I´ve missed. I love it. Please update as soon as possible.

Love,

:heartbeat: Kati :heartbeat:

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#87 HoplessRomantic02

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Posted 25 April 2008 - 06:54 PM

An update please.
Gracey your writing has developed so much!
I briefly skimmed Trust Falls and to see where you've been and where you are now. I mean wow the change is amazing.

-MiMi x
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#88 peanut_butter

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Posted 26 April 2008 - 03:55 PM

Thanks to everyone for being so patient. I have due in the next week and a half what my best friend and I have taken to calling the Epic Four:

1. A fifty-page novel for my English class, short in comparison to Nano, but still long for an assignment.
2. A ten-page thesis paper on the treatment of the insane in America in the 1850s.
3. My science fair project.
4. A 14-week portfolio, that I have to completely rework before I turn in.

My brain is rather close to explosion.

I'm really really REALLY sorry.

Love,
Gracey :elmo:
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#89 Ami

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Posted 27 April 2008 - 06:13 AM

Oh My Gosh.

You've got to be kidding me...

All that work?

Woah.

Honestly, Gracey, I wish you luck.

Seems like a hell of a lot of work for a week and a half.

Luuuuuurve, Ami . . X
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#90 I'm Jesse's Gurl

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Posted 27 April 2008 - 06:30 AM

Gracey...

* Cries For Gracey *

You have to do all of that and I thought what I had to do was hard.

1. A Five Page Report on the History of "That Tiny Town, Just Off Rome, That Got Hit By The Evil Volcano" as my History Teacher Likes to Call It.
2. A Ten Page Report on the Rivers Around England for Geography.
3. And a Dance Booklet on the History of Dance.

Take your time updating Gracey we all understand.

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