Fanfiction Club

A place to discuss your own works. Whether they may be literary, visual art, or music pieces, this is the place to show off your stuff!
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PennyBassett
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That sounds good to me! Do we want to just all take a scene that fades out and then add to it?
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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So, when you say fade out, do you mean when the scene fades out while people are talking? I can only think of one that ends like that, with Buck and Felicia Larson, unless there's one I missed...
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
djchatswithu
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ASmouseInTheHouse wrote:So, when you say fade out, do you mean when the scene fades out while people are talking? I can only think of one that ends like that, with Buck and Felicia Larson, unless there's one I missed...
There's also the scene where the Meltsner's shoot off the rocket, i could probably do something with that if you are wanting to do the Buck/Felicia scene.
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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Oh yeah, I forgot about that part. Go ahead and do the Buck/Felicia one, I'll just use the rocket scene unless anyone else wants to. Someone could do the scene with Mr. Skint and Buck in the car because it ends with Mr. Skint saying, "Do you trust me?"
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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Miah Robinson
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Ok, sorry. I’m kinda confused about what scenes we’re doing... so we’re doing a scene between Buck and Jules, Buck and Skint, Buck and Eugene, and Buck and Felicia?
"Well, that wasn't Shakespeare's Henry IV, but it'll have to do." -Don Polehaus
djchatswithu
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Miah Robinson wrote:Ok, sorry. I’m kinda confused about what scenes we’re doing... so we’re doing a scene between Buck and Jules, Buck and Skint, Buck and Eugene, and Buck and Felicia?
No, we're each picking whichever scene we want to do. I'm doing with the Buck/felicia scene, and Asmouseinthehouse wants to do the scene with the rocket after buck fires it off.

if you can't decide you can do more than one, then we can compare each others.
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PennyBassett
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Ah I understand now. I guess I'll do the Buck and Jules scene then!
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
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Miah Robinson
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Awesome! I'll probably end up doing multiple scenes cuz I've got a lot of time on my hands. ;)
"Well, that wasn't Shakespeare's Henry IV, but it'll have to do." -Don Polehaus
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ByeByeBrownie
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Oooh, okay, I want in on this, too! What part should I do??
Shiyanne Rylie Steele

Buck and Jules Shipper
Wooton is the best character on Odyssey ever. Fight me.


"It's not that we don't make sense, it's that we have a different way of looking at things that do make sense." ~Wooton Bassett
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PennyBassett
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I think it's up to you! I think I'm going to just fill in everything from Jules and Buck's walk when they see Eugene to the end of Buck and Skint's conversation. (Hopefully lol. I might not have time)
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
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ByeByeBrownie
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Okay! Hmmm, I might actually do one from Jason's pov if I have time. :)
Shiyanne Rylie Steele

Buck and Jules Shipper
Wooton is the best character on Odyssey ever. Fight me.


"It's not that we don't make sense, it's that we have a different way of looking at things that do make sense." ~Wooton Bassett
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PennyBassett
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Yeah! That'd be cool!
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
djchatswithu
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Hey guys, I've had some trouble with my computer so I'm probably not going to be able to get my stuff up by the deadline, though I'll be best to get at least one up though.
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ASmouseInTheHouse
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Sorry I'm late, but here's mine. It's basically Eugene's point of view as they shoot off the rocket.
(I'm not as experienced at writing fanfiction as you guys are, so I hope this is good enough)
We all stare up at the sky as the rocket vanishes among the golden clouds, lit by the imminent twilight. The event holds us in a sort of thoughtful trance as the hiss of the fireworks die down in the evening air.
Perhaps the send-off of the rocket marks the end of an era, so to speak; an event commemorating the happenings of the last few days.
Ever since Katrina had I had welcomed Buck Oliver into our home, there had been figurative wall, built by the fact that Jebediah Skint had never been captured after the Green Ring escapade. Often we had thought of this, wondering if Buck ever considered the possibility of returning to him, or alternatively, Mr. Skint taking him back. The uncertainty of his loyalty always caused a note of unease, a disturbing thought in my mind.
I was aware that I should not be so untrusting, but doubt continually taunted me, especially in the days after Buck first arrived. I thought it had vanished over the months, but no. When Katrina discovered a letter from Buck addressed to Mr. Skint, I could not help but question Buck’s faithfulness to him. Although he gave a reasonable explanation for it, I wondered, in the back of my mind, if he had ulterior motives to send him correspondence. I was frustrated with myself for suspecting Buck of these things, but it seemed as if it were involuntary. I convinced myself again that time would heal the mistrust, but yet again I was wrong.
Recent events which involved a mirror, a painting, and Mr. Skint himself stirred up the issue again. When Buck told us about how we could bring Mr. Skint to justice, I was determined to trust what he said. Alas, I still found myself questioning him. Even when Mr. Skint arrived at the door, I wondered if Buck would truly follow through with our plan.
I see now how absurd my entire chain of mistrust was. Now that Mr. Skint is safely in custody, I hope that I shall be able to trust Buck, entirely and without question.
I am shaken out of my thoughts by a soft thump on the grass beside me. “And thus marks the end of an era, I hope,” I remark in a low voice as Buck steps forward to pick it up.
He stares at the rocket in his hands for a moment before answering, “Me too, Eugene. Me, too.”
"Next up, Mark Morgan's message to all math maniacs in the middle school is meaningful if you mingle by the mezzanine for a momentous mix of methodological mayhem and a menagerie of multiplicative inversions. Ha ha ha! I bet I could say this backwards. Inversions multiplicative of menagerie a and mayhem methodological..."
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Miah Robinson
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Here's my bit. :D
Skint’s POV
The moment that I saw him walking with that girl, my heart broke. He wasn’t that little fourteen-year-old anymore. He had become a handsome young man. My heart ached for the last two years that we had missed together. I think the worst part of seeing him again was seeing that he was thriving. He was in a family that he loved. He had friends. I didn’t want to take that away from him, but I also wanted- needed a place to call home, and without that money, I couldn’t. Buck could adapt, couldn’t he? He could find new friends. He could find a new normal. Though I knew I’d have to convince him.
I watched from a distance as he said goodnight to who I assumed was his girlfriend. I started up the truck as he began to walk down the driveway. When I pulled up next to him and rolled down the window, those three words rolled off my tongue so naturally.
“Hello my boy!”
Jules’ POV
I glanced out the window. Buck was still standing out there. He was talking to someone in a white truck. I pulled back the curtain so I could see better. The man was probably in his late 50’s. He had a deep tan and thick, neatly trimmed gray hair. Then it hit me.
Mr. Skint?
He had almost every characteristic that Buck had described, minus the beard. I heard movement in the kitchen.
I turned slightly. “Hey, C- Connie…”
“What?”
I turned back to the window. The truck was driving away, and Buck was nowhere to be seen.
“Jules, you okay?” Connie asked, walking into the living room.
“Yeah, I just- um, I’ll see you…”
I walked past her, keeping my eyes on the ground.
“Okay… How was your time with Buck?”
“Oh- it was fine,” I muttered as I walked up the staircase.
I pulled my phone out and opened up WhatsApp.
“Buck who did you get in that truck with?”
I waited for five minutes. No response.
What would that man do to him? Buck had been very private about he and Skint’s relationship, but I had heard enough to be concerned.
Finally I decided to head back downstairs to “socialize” as Connie liked to put it.

I walked into the living room where Connie sat on the couch, looking at her computer.
She looked up. “Hey, Jules.”
“Hi,” I sat down next to her.
“So- um, what happened with Buck?”
“Well,” I took a breath and glanced at my hands, “we had to stop at the police station-”
“What! Why?”
“Cuz Buck wanted to after we saw Eugene go there.”
“Oh, good. So you didn’t do anything?”
“No…”
She smiled slightly.
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Connie! Why are you smiling at me like that?”
“Well, that face you were making reminded me of dad. He used to make the same face whenever he was worried.”
“Oh…”
“So, are you worried?”
“Um- I mean-”
My phone vibrated on my lap. I looked down to see a text from Buck.
“Can I call you?”
I looked up at Connie. “Uh- Buck wants to call me. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, that’s fine," she smiled.

I shut my bedroom door and sat down on my bed.
“Hey, Jules.”
“Hey. What happened?”
“He’s back.”
“Mr. Skint?”
“Mhm…”
“So… what’re you gonna do?”
“I’ve agreed to meet him in the park tomorrow afternoon. I’ll see what he wants then.”
“Is that wise?”
“I need to know what he needs.”
I looked out my window. The silhouettes of houses dotted the landscape as the sun faded. I didn’t say anything.
“...Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Mhm.”
He's going to leave me.
I stood up and began pacing my room.
“I talked to Jason earlier. He’s going to send some police over there tomorrow to watch out for Skint or Two-Bits.”
“Why here?”
There was a moment’s pause on the other side of the phone.
“Because Skint threatened you and my folks if I don’t comply.”
“Me? How does he even know who I am?”
“I don’t know! He saw us walking together I guess.”
“Oh…”
“So, can you please talk to Connie and Jillian? Tell them to call Jason if they have any questions.”
“...Okay, I will.”
“Also, ask Connie not to say anything to Eugene and Katrina yet. I haven’t told them, and I don’t know how they’ll respond.”
“Okay.”
I swallowed. I could feel tears gathering in my eyes. I didn’t want to vocalize the fear that I was feeling.
“...Buck?”
“Hm?”
“W- what if something happens?”
“Nothing’s gonna happen.”
I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.
“Buck,” I took a breath, “do you really believe that?”
“...I’m trying to. But hey, it’s going to be okay.”
“Right,” I tried to smile. “Well, I should probably go…”
“Okay. Jules, I- goodnight.”
“Bye.”
I slid my phone back into my pocket and sighed.
Great, that went well.
Buck’s POV.
I leaned against the wall. I could hear the rapid clicking of Eugene’s computer keys and the gentle rustle of a page being turned by Katrina. My eyes landed on the picture of the three of us at the beach in Florida last summer. Was it all going to be over? What if everything went the wrong way? I took a shaky breath and stepped around the corner.
“Um-”
They both looked up.
“Buck! I thought you were doing homework?” Eugene asked.
“I was...”
I walked across the wooden floor, every footstep echoed in my head. I could feel their eyes boring holes into the back of my neck. My bare toes dug into the thick carpet as I sat down in the armchair across from Eugene and Katrina.
“Well,” I paused, trying to calm the raging storm within that told me not to say anything, “I need to tell y’all something…”
Katrina closed her book and smiled.
“I just- need y’all not to freak out, okay?”
Katrina nodded.
“Of course,” Eugene said.
I looked him straight in the eyes as the words that I had been dreading escaped my mouth. “Mr. Skint’s back.”
Eugene’s eyes widened. “What?!”
“Eugene,” Katrina squeezed his arm. “How do you know, Buck?”
“I saw him today. He drove me over here after I dropped Jules off.”
“And you actually got in the car with the man?!” Eugene exclaimed, clearly forgetting him promise to stay calm.
“I had to know what he wanted. There’s too much at stake right now.”
“But- but-” Eugene stuttered.
“Eugene, you’re stuttering” Katrina interrupted, removing her hand from his arm. “Did you find out what he wants?”
“Not really. He just said that he needs my help with some big prize.”
“Ah…”
“...I’ve got a plan, but everyone has to be in on it.”
My foster parents looked at each other then back at me.
“We’ll do whatever we need to, Buck,” Katrina said.
Eugene nodded in agreement.
“It’s not risk-free either. He threatened both of you and Jules.”
“It’s okay,” Eugene said.
“Here’s my plan. I’m supposed to meet up with Mr. Skint tomorrow afternoon. I’ll go with him and call the police when we get far enough away. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll figure out how to ditch him and get back to Odyssey. I’ve already talked to Jason. You two will stay here with the police in case Two-Bit decides to show. Connie, Jules, and Jillian will do the same at their place, and they’ll station police officers around the art gallery too.”
“This does sound rather risky,” Eugene muttered.
“I know, but it’s worth it...”
Two-Bits' POV
Music blasted out of the truck's speakers. Adrenaline raced through my veins as I anticipated the upcoming standoff. Skint had gone to their house, they hadn’t expected it. They’d be grieving, not expecting what was about to happen. My palm slid over the steering wheel as I turned onto Oak Street. I counted the house numbers.
449, 447, 445, and there it is, 443.
I pulled over and reached into the back seat to grab my gun. Something flashed in the corner of my eyes. Then the shrill sound of sirens cut through the air. Panic welled up inside me.
“...then you'll tell the police, when they catch you,” Mr. Skint's voice echoed inside my head.
No.
My hand closed around the gun handle. I sat back up, thinking I could escape. I shifted into drive. Up ahead lights flashed as well. I was trapped. So I did the one thing I could think of, I shoved open the truck door and sprinted up to the house. I lifted my gun, prepared to take the Melsners hostage. My fist pounded on the door. There was a moment's pause before the door open. My eyes met none other than the blue uniforms of armed policemen. I took a step back.
“Drop the gun!” an officer yelled.
I tossed it to the ground.
“Now put your hands behind your head and get on your knees!”
I dropped to my knees.
Cold metal closed around my wrists. I knew what I was in for if I didn’t cave in.
Last edited by Miah Robinson on Thu Oct 31, 2019 6:10 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Well, that wasn't Shakespeare's Henry IV, but it'll have to do." -Don Polehaus
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PennyBassett
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This is really short, so I if I have time later today I might do another one, but here's just right after Buck comes into the police station from Eugene's POV.
“Is that what you really think, Detective?”
“Buck!”
I turn around to see my foster son standing at Detective Polehaus’ office doorway, shoes turned out, head held high, on the defensive.
“Yeah, Buck. That’s what I really think. Prove me wrong! Oh, and you can start by not spying on us.”
“I was looking for Eugene.”
I know it’s time to leave. He can’t hear he’s not valuable.
“Well, you found him. Alright, we’re done here. If I find out anything else, I’ll let you know. And you’ll do the same for me. Right, Buck?”
“We will, of course. Let’s go home, Buck.”
“Whatever is happening around Odyssey is connected to you, Buck. I don’t know what it is, but I intend to find out!”
I don’t appreciate how loud the detective speaks to us, and I don’t hesitate to give the door a passive-aggressive slam on our way out. I head for the door.
“Jules is waiting for me downstairs. I’ll walk her home.”
“No, I’d rather drive you both.”
“I need to drive home. Please.”
I’m far too soft on him. I can remember being his age. Being in the system. Feeling uncared for. How could I not want to give him anything he asks for? I restrain my consent. I learned long ago what he really needed in these situations.
“Buck, if this is about what Detective Polehaus said-”
“You don’t need to say anything.”
“No, in fact, I do. Katrina and I are not afraid of your past, nor any trouble that might come from it. I want you to know that we’ll stand by your side no matter what. We are prepared to do that.”
“I- I appreciate that Eugene, but I don’t know if I’m prepared to let you do that.”
I hate that he calls me Eugene. I’m not sure why. I used to want him to call me that. I called my foster parents by their last names, but looking back on it, I wish I hadn’t needed to. That was probably what started the habit of calling everyone by their last names. It just seemed like the right way to talk to someone, even someone close to me. I don’t want Buck to feel that way. And I’ve been realizing lately, I want him to call me Dad.
"Let me get this straight. I bet all those non-friends of yours try to embarrass you about your love for that stuff, right? So, you almost feel like you have to hide your treasures away and can only take them out in secret on rainy days when your mom goes to the store to get more liver and nobody is around to berate your sensitive spirit. Is that what you’re saying?" -Jay Smouse
djchatswithu
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Ok, here's mine. i found out that Felicia was play by one of the original Catwoman actresses, so I thought I'd thrown in a few references. plus, she didn't really seem like a bad person in he episode, just someone who didn't like police hanging around and pretended to be bad just for the thrill rather then gaining something.
I'm thinking of writing my own version of part 3, and including a few things the writers were going to put in, as well as change a few things.
“Well, why don’t we start at the beginning. I first met your parents when they heard I had a place for rent. They sounded just like anyone looking for a place to rent, but I could tell that you father was a bit of a rogue, and I guess your mother loved him to much to care. Oh buck they looked like they had just walked down the aisle. Anyway, we worked out a rental agreement and over the next couple of months, your mother and I became good friends, I suppose you could say we were almost like sisters in a way. Your father however, took a bit longer to trust me, he said I was like the Catwoman from Batman but I guess he saw how much your mother and I were getting along, so he relented, but I only wish it had happened sooner.”
“Why, what happened.”
“Well when you were only nine months old, your father said he was going out to get supplies, but after a few hours we were worried. Then we got the phone call, your father had been killed running from the police. Apparently it was only a minor traffic infraction, but out of instinct he ran, and crashed at some traffic lights only a few miles from the house. The police wanted to come round and arrest your mother for some of the stuff she had done with you father, but I was able to talk them out of it.”
“How’d you do that?”
“Well, I always dd have a way with words, which is probably why your father called me Catwoman.
Anyway, I was able to convince the police not to come round and then I went out and did what I could to get what we needed for you and your mother, which included dealing with that weasel Skint for her. Your mother didn’t trust skint at all, and so that’s when she hid the documents and made me promise to take care of you. But then she got the cancer and ended up in the hospital. Then one day, when I got back from visiting her, I found the police and the child services agents in the house. It turned out Skint been watching and had waited until I left and then reported me to the authorities, claiming that he was an uncle who wanted to take better care of me. That was the last time I saw you until you showed up a few months ago with, oh, what was his name?”
“Eugene. He was actually in kind of the same situation I was in. he said his parents were kidnapped and enslaved and that his mother later died in captivity, all because her old boyfriend was jealous.”
“So, how did you meet them?”
“Well Mr Skint was helping with a counterfeiting ring, and needed me to go undercover where Eugene works to get a phone lost by one of the counterfeiters. Katrina was tutoring students there and offered to conduct the interview. She was determined to find out more about me and my situation because was was worried about me. I thought I had all the answers to keep her from finding out anything, but then just before mr Skint and I were suppose to leave town, she turned up where we were hiding out to try and get me to come with her.”
“Sound’s like she cares about you very much then”
“Yeah, I think she does, cause just after she agreed to go, Mr Skint came back and tied her up to use as a hostage because the police knew what I looked like. But I didn’t want her to get hurt so I told Mr Skint to go without me. I didn’t realize why he almost seemed to cry until a couple hours ago.”
“well it seems that everyone who meets you loves you one way or another. I’m only sorry that your mother will never get to see what a fine young man you’ve become”.
“Well, Eugene says that probably she’s watching me from heaven, at least, he said that’s what gives him some comfort. And I think that mom would be happy to know that I’ve got two of the best foster parents in the world.”
“you know, after what you’ve told me about them, I think she would possibly agree, Bucky-Bear.”
just a heads up that i'm going to delete my fanfiction thread and start again, as I want to change a few things but don't want to have two versions of things.
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ByeByeBrownie
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Wow, everybody! These are fantastic!!

Alas, I am ambitious beyond my skill, and mine is turning out to be quite the monster. And now I've fallen down the rabbit hole of a possible Long End sequel. :mad: So I'm going to do some work on it this weekend, and maybe I'll be able to tie together my Jason idea. Otherwise, we'll be taking a look at this for my next fanfic arc. Stay tuned!
Shiyanne Rylie Steele

Buck and Jules Shipper
Wooton is the best character on Odyssey ever. Fight me.


"It's not that we don't make sense, it's that we have a different way of looking at things that do make sense." ~Wooton Bassett
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ByeByeBrownie
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Okay, here's mine! Far from spectacular, but oh well! :P
“The name’s Whittaker. Jason Whittaker,” I announced proudly, standing over my handcuffed prize.

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

“Uuugh.”

I rolled over and smashed the snooze button. Here we go again, I thought.

I sat up on the edge of the bed and just stared off into space for a moment. I’d been struggling a lot lately with finding purpose in life. I’d been trying to quit the spy business for years, but now that I finally had, I missed it. The danger. The intrigue. The moments of adrenaline-pumping peril. And now I had… What? The most exciting thing that could possibly happen to me these days was discovering a Pairpoint lamp amongst the piles of old junk left over from an estate sale. And the more I tried to immerse myself in the antique business, the more I just felt hopelessly clumsy and out of touch.

I mechanically showered and dressed, then made my way down to the kitchen for breakfast.

I sat at the table, stirring a cup of coffee and trying to read my Bible. Why had that been so difficult lately? My mind wandered all over the place, and I kept re-reading the same lines over and over.

I drained my coffee cup and headed for the door, leaving the Bible still open on the table.

***

Wally Hagler was my first customer that morning. He met me at the door, just as I was opening up the shop. He’d picked up a couple of things—an old-fashioned hope chest and matching rocking chair—at an auction the day before, and he wanted me to take a look at them.

Upon a close examination, the chest and chair both seemed to have been hand-carved. The craftsmanship was remarkable, but without a recognized maker, I surmised they wouldn’t be worth all that much. There wasn’t much inside the chest—just some old knick-knacks and a baby blanket.

“Huh,” I muttered, noticing the initials “B.B.” embroidered in the corner of the blanket. I wonder who this belonged to? I mused silently.

The one thing that kept me going in the antiques business was the thought that every item that came across my path had a story. And so did this trunk. Little did I know that that story was far from over.

***

Late-morning sunlight streamed through the skylight of the otherwise dark back room at Triple J’s Antiques. I was searching for a pair of ivory candlesticks to bring out for one of my regular customers who would be stopping by that afternoon.

“Ow!”

My knee slammed into the corner of a vintage marble-top table.

“Who put that there?” I inquired rhetorically, rubbing my kneecap.

It was a silly game I played with myself—to see how well I could maneuver the maze of stacked shelves without turning the lights on.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of the warehouse-like room, a floorboard creaked. I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Why was I so on edge? You must have made the coffee too strong this morning, I told myself. It’s nothing. Then I heard it again.

“Who’s there?” The alarm in my voice surprised me. You’re a trained agent, for crying out loud. Pull yourself together.

I grabbed a 1950’s brass table lamp, poised to strike at the intruder.

“I’m not playing games here. Just come out, and nobody will get hurt.”

What nonsense was I talking?

“It’s me, Uncle Jason.”

The lights flicked on.

“Monty?!”

“I need your help.”

“Well then you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that. You nearly gave me a heart attack. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.” My heart was pounding, and I was nearly giddy with excitement. If my nephew was in town and needing my help, that could only mean one thing: I was going to get to work a case again.

“Sorry, Uncle Jason,” Monty laughed. “I’ll try to keep that in mind next time. But for now, we need to talk fast. It’s only a matter of time before he shows up here.”

“Before who shows up here?”

“Well, it’s a long story. Let’s just say that you have something that someone we both know wants.”

Pulling up a chair, I motioned for him to sit down.

“Then you’d better fill me in on all the details.”
Shiyanne Rylie Steele

Buck and Jules Shipper
Wooton is the best character on Odyssey ever. Fight me.


"It's not that we don't make sense, it's that we have a different way of looking at things that do make sense." ~Wooton Bassett
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Miah Robinson
Chocolate Chip
Posts: 48
Joined: February 2019
Location: across the pond

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*snaps out of trance*
Welp, folks those were pretty fantastic! Good job!
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p.s. ByeByeBrownie, I loved the "I grabbed a 1950’s brass table lamp, poised to strike at the intruder" sentence. That made me laugh.
"Well, that wasn't Shakespeare's Henry IV, but it'll have to do." -Don Polehaus
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