Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Welcome To Fitzville

Book !, Chapter %


Bea was sitting in her room during that conversation with her cousin Marshal. She was on her bed, and he was at the foot of it, watching in silence as she played yet ANOTHER one of those shooting games. (Seriously people this is what you’re doing with the discovery of electricity I gave you? Then you wonder why violence has raised over the years.) She happened to be doing very good at this one.
                “Marshal, you wanna play,” she asked.
                Marshal shook his head. The boy never says much, and when he does, it’s only when absolutely necessary. I don’t know why though. Maybe it is because he feels more comfortable when not speaking, or maybe he’s afraid of saying something harsh. I don’t know. He’s always been a bit of an enigma.
                “Whatever,” she said. Muttering to herself after fact, she said, “You’re saving yourself from an ass kicking anyways.”
                Marshal has never been a fan of his cousin’s cockiness. With her being only twelve, and him fifteen, it was almost natural for him to be concerned for her future. He always wondered where her attitude would get her in the real world.

                Meanwhile, a woman with bright orange hair and the smoothest of dark skin was giving Will a therapy session. Her name was Jennifer Crys, a master of the mind and knowledge. She’s one of my finest sub-deities (meaning second generation), though a little colder than desired (not that this has anything to do with anything, but her daughter’s a little pain).
                So the session began. “William,” she started.
                “Will. Just Will.”
                She cleared her throat and adjusted her glasses. “Okay, Will. When you are bored, what do you feel like doing-and give me an APPROPRIATE answer this time. I’m tired of asking that question and getting a disgusting answer.”
                “Then just stop asking that question.” He smirked.
                “Will. Answer it.”
                “Fine,” he sighed, “I feel like…going out and doing the daily justice.”
                “Will.”
                “Fine I’ll lay the truth on you. I go out and slaughter anyone who’s seems off. Or if you want an elegant answer, I ice sculpt in my room.”
                Jennifer just stared at him.
                “What? My chainsaw can’t have more than one use?”
                “No Will, it’s just…” She sat there for a moment. “It’s just we haven’t seem to have made ANY progress on your mental stability.”
                “Well, why are you bothering?”
                “Because anyone who is going to be affiliated with the Facio must be abiding to the common law.”
                Thanks for formally using my real name Jen. Thanks. Way to make me sound like a crone.
                “But what about Maxwell?”
                She gulped. “Um…what about him?”
                “That’s what I’m asking you.”
                “But what exactly about him?”
                “That’s my question!”
                “Yes, I know, but what ABOUT him, Will?”
                “Jeez…who’s on first Jen?”
                I know what she’s doing though. She is deliberately avoiding bringing up Maxwell and his habits…and she really should, especially if we are trying to STOP Will from killing, not give him an idol. The only reason this kid’s not in jail is because I took him in.

                I wish Maxwell would just behave though…

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