Mine of course will mostly be about Jason and Connie. I was stuck for awhile but hopefully that won't happen as much anymore. Discussing fanfic can help. I hadn't been writing for awhile, but I did the last few days -- just had to steal the time I use for original fiction, which I may have to do in the future since writing fanfic on weekends hasn't really worked out lately. It was so fun to write my latest chapter, I don't want to wait so long before writing the next.
I would love to join and contribute ideas for things we could do in the club. (Even though they won't be published on fanfiction.net for months, I do write fanfictions in my spare time. Mine are mostly about the 60's Batman show, though)
Ok it took awhile, and it's not completely done. If you want to read more, then I can finish it, but I kind of put it off. A lot. It was a fun exercise though. It was interesting because it forced me to think about how I would act if I had experienced a different life. Taking that into consideration, know that this isn't how I would act normally, but like I said I think it's probably how I would have acted if I had gone through different stuff. (Sorry to write about the Meltsnets again! I literally wrote down like 20 names of families that I wanted the story to revolve around and that's the family I drew. So. Yeah.) Hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 1: The Magnet
I looked out the window of the all too familiar black car that had taken me from house to house; life to life; since I was ten. I routinely put words together in my brain to form a short description of my situation. I wished I could write down my stories as quickly as I thought of them but it was fine for now. I would be satisfied with an incomplete storyline that would never be worth a second telling anyway. I narrated in my head about the backpack of my only belongings that sat at my feet, the crowded sidewalks of Connelsville, the mix of stress and numb pain that came with transitioning to a new foster home. Mrs. Lewis had assured me that this house "was different", that "they were good people", "safe people." She said. I hardly believed her. Let alone cared. "So what if they're different?" I asked out of no where. "What?" "It's not like it matters. I'll be out of the system in four years anyway." "Four years is longer than you think." She was wrong. I knew precisely how long four years was. It was the perfect amount of time for the government to take my siblings and I away from the burnt down home where our parents died. Enough time to separate us, to keep us out of contact for at least two years. It was just long enough to enforce the numb pain that had attached itself to my heart like a magnet; stubborn and impossible to rip from the broken muscle. It didn't matter how many couples cared about me. Didn't matter how many alcoholics abused me. And it didn't matter how many times Mrs. Lewis assured a safe and healthy environment. The magnet stayed. Because I was unwilling to let it be removed.
[spoiler]Chapter 2: The Bedroom
I smoothed out the last bit of fabric on the ornately decorated bed. The room seemed to scream "creative nerd." That was the title Connie had given her. Music notes were painted on the cream wall. An easel sat on a rug in the corner. A fadedly colorful set of drawers sat next to it, in which we had stocked fresh pencils, pens, sketchbooks, and lots more. A writer's desk filled another corner. And a recording microphone stood at the end of the purple sheeted bed. Everything was perfect. I sat down on the bed. Worried. Anxious. Terrified. Buck walked in and sat next to me. "Scared?" "I don't know. What if she hates us?" He smiled and took my hand into his. "I highly doubt that. Although-" "Although what?" "Jules, I remember what it was like to be a foster kid her age. It's hard. Especially with an abusive past, and well, we'll have to be careful." "I know. You don't know how unprepared I feel." "Jules Meltsner? Unprepared? Never!" He said sarcastically. We laughed. "You'll make a wonderful mother you know." "Really?" "Of course." We shared a soft kiss. It was interrupted by the doorbell. We hurried to the door and Buck opened it. "Hey guys. This is Hannah." The 14-year-old vaguely reminded me of myself by the way she wore her makeup and black beanie. A t-shirt, worn converse and jeans were all else she had, not including the small backpack she carried with her. "Hey." She said bluntly. "It's so good to finally meet you. Why don't you two come in." Pushing my excitement over my fear, we walked into the living room and sat down.
Chapter 3: The missing Chisel
She still hadn't looked at Jules or I yet. Her eyes remained glued to the floor. She was clearly uninterested. I read past the boredom though, into the hurt. I was right. We'd have to slowly chisel in. "Ok." Connie began. "Hannah, would you like to tell Mr. And Mrs. Meltsner about yourself?" Silence. She was dormant. I knew what that meant. It was an attention grabber. I thought back to the week when I felt so forgotten by Eugene and Katrina that I secluded myself to the point of not answering even their simplistic questions. Chills ran up my back at the realization of the intense rudeness that it was. "Connie told me you like to paint." Jules began. "Yeah." She mumbled, still staring at the floor. "Well, we set up an easel and a few other things in your room upstairs if you want to come see it." She looked up and locked her eyes on my wife and then me. "Really?" She asked. Again, sparking memories of going into foster care. When Katrina called my room, 'my room.' How apart of the family it made me feel. And of normal life. "Yes!" Jules smiled at the change in Hannah's attitude. "Would you like to see it now?" "Yeah. I guess so." That was the first time I saw her smile.
Chapter 4: The Little Theater
The room was much more beautiful than I expected. Nicer than any room I had slept in in four years. It had everything I could want to help pursue my art, writing, and singing careers. I could help but cry a little when I saw it. No one had ever wanted to help me like that. Jules and Buck Meltsner. Mrs. Lewis was right. They were different. They were like me. Smart. Quiet. At times depressed. But my parents? I wouldn't believe it. The second day I lived with them, they took me to an ice cream shop called, Whits End. We walked into the old fashioned building to meet the owner. He was thin, though at least in his 40s, with uncommon circular glasses that complimented his shirt and vest combo. "Hannah, meet, my father, Eugene Meltsner." Buck announced proudly. "Your father? Really?" "Yeah." I looked at him then at this Eugene person. "He was adopted." Eugene laughed. Knowing Buck wanted to confuse me. I wasn't amused. "Hm." Buck laughed. I smiled a little. "Give her a break guys." Jules laughed. "Fine." "Thank you!" I crossed my arms, happy someone was taking my side. "So Hannah, would you care for a tour?" Eugene asked. "Sure." I sighed. "Very well. Olivia!" A black haired young adult came out of the kitchen. "Did you need something Eugene?" "Yes. This is Hannah." "Oh! You're Buck's foster child! It's so good to meet you!" "Yes. Would you give her a tour of our facility, Olivia?" "Oh, sure! Come on!" "Ok. I'll see you guys later then." "Ok we'll be here if you need anything." "Ok." Olivia took me to around the building showing me the Bible room, library, Kids Radio Studio, and one more thing. "And this is the little theater. Okay, well it used to be little." She was right. It wasn't little. It was fairly large and absolutely beautiful. I walked up to the stage. "Can I stand on it?" I asked. "Sure." Olivia smiled. I walked up the stairs and walked onto the beautiful wooden stage. I looked out into the audience, the empty chairs inspiring a familiar joy. But it didn't last long. I fell into a painful daze of memories, and stepping down from the stage, my eyes filled with tears. I quickly wiped them away. "Are you ok?" "Yeah." I sniffed. "Um, do you do shows here?" "Yeah. Actually we have auditions for our next one tomorrow." "What does it take to audition?" "You just sing a song and recite a monologue for the directors. Callbacks are after everyone auditions." "Okay. Is it expensive?" "Well, kind of. Eugene hates charging so much but we have bills to pay." "Yeah that makes since. How much is it?" "$140." My heart fell into my stomach. "Oh." There was no way my foster parents would spend that much money on me so soon. Especially after everything they had bought for my room.
Chapter 5: The Hot Chocolate
Eugene brought out a couple mugs of coffee. "So," he began, "how is she?" I sighed and looked at Buck. "Well, she's-" "Dormant." Buck finished. "She's barely talked to us Dad." Eugene laughed. "Oh? A Meltsner foster child being resistant to open up?' Give it time Buck. She'll open up. You did." "I know." "Buck? You were dormant?" "Only to Dad. And only for the first few weeks." "More like months." "Maybe. But I DID open up." "When?" "Around the time we set off those fireworks." I cringed at the thought. "Oh." He laughed. "That was such a stupid idea." I said reflecting at my teenage immaturity. "Don't beat yourself up about it. We were fifteen." "Yeah. Oh, poor Connie had to deal with me so much." Eugene smiled. "I can sympathize." He muttered, eyeing Buck. "Oh come on! I wasn't that bad." "Really?" Eugene asked, not buying it. "Yeah. I mean sure I broke the law a few times but you were good at not turning me in." "Yes. Though sometimes I regret it." We laughed. "And that's the shop." Olivia said walking up with Hannah. "How'd you like it?" I asked. "It was alright." She sat down next to me. "Did you see the imagination station?" "Yeah." "Would you like to, as they say, 'take a trip?'" Eugene enquired. "Not right now." She looked unhappy. "Well, all right. How about some hot chocolate?" "Sure." When Eugene brought her mug out, she mostly played with her spoon and stared at it solemnly. It worried me but I didn't want to press to hard, in fear of being cut off. We left the shop as a light snow began to fall.
Chapter 6: The Snow
"Brr." I shivered as we exited the building. The snow was beautiful, but it seemed to intensify the biting cold of the late fall afternoon. "Hannah? Do you need a bigger coat?" I asked looking at the thin jacket on her back. "I don't know." She shivered. "Maybe. But I'm fine." She kept her eyes on the dusted white sidewalk as we walked to the car. "We'll go to the store tomorrow." I knew she wanted one. She just didn't want to ask. "Are you alright Hannah?" Jules asked. I was about to myself. "Yeah. Why?" "You seem down." "I'm fine." She strictly blocked off communication with my wife. Jules turned to me hopelessly. 'You're doing fine.' I mouthed as I squeezed her hand. She smiled a little, her eyes still holding the same helpless look. We got into the car and headed home. The whole way there, Hannah looked out the window. "Watching the snow." She said. Her eyes projected hurt. But I knew she'd never tell where it came from; at least not yet. But we'd work on it. 'Start small.' I told myself. "What are you planning on doing when we get home Hannah?" "I don't know. Probably draw or something. Why?" "Just curious. What will you draw?" "I'll most likely just sketch." "Ok." "I'm making mashed potatoes for dinner. Connie told me you liked them." "Yeah. I do." Her eyes still hadn't left the window pane. "Are you sure nothing's wrong?" I asked glancing at her in the rear view mirror. "Yeah. I am." I kept my eyes on the road.
Chapter 7: The Wall
I sat on my bed and stared outside my window at the snow. It was beautiful. The door opened. "I thought you were going to draw." Jules said. I turned to her. "Oh. I don't really feel like it." "Alright." I knew she was trying to connect with me. To brake in. To rip off the magnet. But it wouldn't work. I had put up a wall. I wouldn't let them in. I wouldn't let anyone in. Not again. Pain hit my heart, like a destructive dagger, bringing evil memories with its unbearable pain. "Are you worried about school tomorrow?" "I don't know." I had transitioned schools so much. What was one more? "Have you tried the microphone yet?" "No." I said slightly intrigued. "Would you like to?" "Sure. I'm not a very good singer, but I'll try." I turned the speaker on and sat down in front of the studio mic. "What should I sing?" I asked, turning to Jules. "Oh I don't know. Do you like Christmas songs?" "Not many." "Oh." "But there is one I'm particularly fond of." She laughed. "You sound like Eugene." "Why?" "Probably cause you're both brilliant. What's the song?" "Emanuel." "I love that one."
Chapter 8: The Song
Hannah began to sing. She had a beautiful voice. Each syllable sliding into the next, resulting in a fantastic performance. Her voice was captivating, every word holding emotion, emotion that reflected the tough life she had experienced. In turn it spark similar emotions in me. The feeling of being forgotten, uncared for, abandoned. "Until the son of God appears..." She continued, captivating me with every note. Buck had to hear her, but I didn't want to leave. I glanced outside, my foster child's music making it seem more beautiful. How? I felt myself asking. How could someone so beautiful and talented feel so worthless? Abuse. The word flashed across my vision and somehow made me notice the large scar the streaked across the side of her head. That's why she wore the beanie most of the time. I just could see it since it was off today. The song finished and I gave her a passionate round of applause, at which she could help but smile a little. "That was incredible. You're very talented." "Thank you." She sighed. Something was wrong. It was just a matter of finding out what.
Chapter 9: The Adopted Teen
"Jules told me you sang for her last night." "Yeah." "I'd love to hear you sometime." "Ok." She held her backpack close to her, as I drove her to Odyssey Middle School. I knew she was afraid. But I also knew she would reject any form fiscal comfort. I remembered not letting Eugene touch me for the first month I lived with them. It was considerably disrespectful especially since I didn't extend the same safe guard to Katrina, whom I hugged almost every day. Nevertheless, comforting words were the best thing I could give now. "Olivia's sister Camilla is in some of the same classes as you. "Hm. Ok." "I think you'll get along well." "Ok." I went deeper. "How many different schools have you attended?" "Six." She said without hesitation. "Wow. Then why are you nervous?" "Who said I was nervous?" "Your hands are shaking." "Oh. I just don't like lots of people I guess." "I get that. They have a library here though, if you want to be alone sometime. That's what I did." "You went here?" "Yeah. For eighth grade." "Why not seventh?" "Um, I was in juvenile hall for seventh grade." After all these years it was still hard to talk about my life in JD. "Really?" "Yes. I was a counterfeiter until I lived with the Meltsners." "Wait- you were adopted when you were in eighth grade?" "Actually ninth." "Hm." She smiled slightly. I think the evidence of someone actually getting adopted as a teenager gave her hope. I just wished I'd had the same hope when I was her age.
And I'm not joining but I assume that everyone else had life hit them in the head? Edit again: Actually I will join if we talk about ideas and such instead of just doing writing challenges because I don't have much time to actually write fanfiction but I have plenty of ideas, always! And I like to talk about the characters and how we see them in our fanfictions!
Ameraka wrote:Yes, ideas, talking about the characters, challenges, encouragement is all good! I think you have joined
Yes we have joined. Let's get the ball rolling! Ameraka, I think you and I have two different views on who Jason is. I normally have him somewhere to be the headstrong, hulking, sometimes ridiculous person who usually manages to land on his feet.
Well I believe he's headstrong--hulking and ridiculous I don't know about. He's impulsive, often acts before he thinks. A lot of what I have written is based on of the Labyrinth--which changed him in some ways, and what happened to him in Fallout (my fanfiction), which gave him more inner pain and vulnerability. So it is my fanfiction version of him, in which the events post-Labyrinth diverged a bit, that I'm writing about. Going through so many harrowing horrible things would deeply effect someone. And the journey's still going, and he is adapting to those new circumstances, although he's obviously not changed to a totally different person, he still has impulsiveness and adventurousness and courage that he always has.
Yeah I have quite a few unpublished fanfictions, and in those I play up the fact that every idea Jason has- Jack thinks it's a bad one. For my own purposes, you know, I play that up. For my next fanfiction project I am really going to try and write in everyone's character more.
GJFH wrote:I'd love to join! Whether have any ideas or projects, or we're just here to encourage, perhaps challenge each other to write!
OK how about we have joined since "would love to join" doesn't officially make you do anything. OK. Who do you write about, GJFH?
I'm happy to write about whomever. Up until this point, I've written only about Jason, though I'm currently working on, and trying not to be a perfectionist with a story on Richard Maxwell. It's drawing near to an end now. After that, I want to write more regularly, even if I'm only writing one shots.
Kungfunaomi wrote:Yeah I have quite a few unpublished fanfictions, and in those I play up the fact that every idea Jason has- Jack thinks it's a bad one. For my own purposes, you know, I play that up. For my next fanfiction project I am really going to try and write in everyone's character more.
Yes! I do this as well, and there's enough evidence to support this. I always imagined that there were times where Jason spent more time with Jack when Whit was off traveling. He probably was witness to all the hair raising stunts and impulsive decisions Jason made that reminded him of his friend.
GJFH wrote:I'm happy to write about whomever. Up until this point, I've written only about Jason, though I'm currently working on, and trying not to be a perfectionist with a story on Richard Maxwell. It's drawing near to an end now. After that, I want to write more regularly, even if I'm only writing one shots.
So where can I read said fanfictions? Are they unpublished?
Also, I need help making a decision about a fanfiction I am currently brainstorming.