Opps

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 12:18:50 GMT

Thought I had done that thing where you hide the text and have to click on "read more" to see the rest. Obviously not. Note to self - Must try harder with lj technology. Sorry people.

OC Fic - Untitled

Mon, 28 Jan 2008 12:10:18 GMT

Fandom - The OC
Tittle - As yet untitled, any ideas?
Rating - Not sure (the f-word features)
Disclaimer - I don't own anything OC related
Authors notes - This is my first fic so please be gentle and any feedback would be great. I want to say a big thanks to Nightrider for all her beta help.

Ryan was so fuckin’ unsure. His body buzzing with unspent adrenaline and fear. He had to get his shit together and focus. Trey was gone for good now, doing real time upstate. Something was gonna give soon and he knew it couldn’t be him. He slid the card into his back pocket and the phone back into the cradle.

Ty looked broken down and far away. She had just nodded numbly when he ran the whole lawyer idea by her. Sitting on the wall, knees to her chest, eyes dancing over the cracks in the sidewalk, she kind of looked like mom - distracted.

“If you think he’s okay. We just can’t go home,” she sighed.

Ryan sat next to her and hunched over to light a cigarette. He took a long drag and passed it over. He watched her inhale and begin to calm. She lost the slight hitch in her breath. He wanted to hold her, but he knew she would shrug him of with “I’m not a baby” or “Just coz I’m a girl”. He wanted to tell her they would get there in the end - wherever “there” might be. The only thing they had left was honesty, an unspoken agreement between them. He didn’t want to screw that up with another empty promise that he knew he couldn’t keep.

Not that he was beyond lying. He had been a bit flexible with the truth earlier on the phone with Mr. Cohen. “Yeah just need a place to crash, till stuff calms down at home.” He hadn’t mentioned his sister. He’d let the guy drink them both in when he got here. That way Ryan could get a better read on him, and this whole fucked up situation. Ryan dropped his head in his hand and implored the concrete for answers he didn’t possess. What had he done?

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The drive to Chino took longer than Sandy expected. He was caught in traffic on Highway 15. The unexpected traffic gave him more than enough time to worry about what exactly he thought he was doing.

Oh Christ! What the hell was he doing, he sure didn’t know anymore. Why was he reaching out to this kid? Was he doing the right thing? Was this purely altruistic or some symptom of an impending midlife crisis? Cut from the same deck? Who was he kidding? Picking the kid up and taking him home was certainly not part of the Juvenile Division’s standard of practice.

The scenery had changed as he pulled onto Central Avenue, the last few spots of agricultural land long surrendered to urban sprawl. He passed the clean white lines of Chino Courthouse and refocused his mind onto what he knew about Ryan Atwood.

There wasn’t very much, actually. Beyond his auto theft charges, the kid had pretty limited contact with DFACS. School attendance was poor but academically he was strong. A brief couple of months in foster care in Fresno when he was ten, this coincided with his father’s incarceration so he imagined this was some kind of respite care for the mother. That’s what the file said, but Sandy’s intuition told him a lot more. The downcast eyes, the ‘don’t touch me’ body language, being wise enough not to have a dream.

He had given his private number to only one other client in his entire career. The first kid didn’t call, but the coroner did. Dead - aged fifteen in a gang related drive by. It had knocked some of the passion out of Sandy and for a long time left him with a nagging sense of futility. He ploughed on.

Ryan’s call had taken him completely by surprise, and he wondered if he only gave the kid his number to ease his own conscience. He was certain that the number would remain un-dialled. He guessed he would never understand his own motivations. He knew the kid had stepped out on a limb, and ultimately he had to meet him halfway.

As he rounded the corner of Francis and Vernon, he spotted Ryan sitting on a wall outside a strip mall. His biked propped idly against the phone booth and another kid was beside him. The other kid was smaller, a girl, and they were obviously together.

Just what the hell did he think he was doing?

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Tyler watched the black beamer glide up. The car was flash, like drug dealer flash. All it was missing was a set of rims. She tried hard to crowd out the voice in her head saying fuckfuckfuck. What was Ry’ getting us into? This guy was meant to be a cheap bit lawyer from the DA’s office. How’d he front a car like this? No doubt selling dumb kids like us into the white slave trade. But who was she kidding like she’d said earlier to Ryan “we just can’t go home”. What she’d really meant was they’d never really had one.

She knew she didn’t feel the same way about home as other kids in her class. The last bell always left her feeling anxious. She was torn between a desire to know what was waiting for her at home and the strange feeling of comfort at the unknown, at the small possibility that things might be different this time.

Home for her was not so much a place as a state of mind. A good lock on their bedroom door, the empty lot on the corner of there latest block and long afternoons at the bating cages with Ryan and Trey.

All those places where you could postpone reality; the gap between school and home felt best. She didn’t like sleep over’s anymore. It was a bit like window shopping when you’re broke, looking at what you can’t have. Besides the good people looked at you a little too hard, and the fear of exposure was more intense then the beating that caused it.

Ryan squeezed her arm and Tyler looked up at him withdrawing from her thoughts. Then catching the sound of the stranger’s voice.’

“Hey kid, I told ya’ you could do worse”

The man said it with a smile so genuine she almost fell over. Maybe this was going to be alright after all. She glanced over to Ryan waiting to take his lead. They hadn’t really discussed strategy. She did a good line in funny and if that failed they could step it up a gear. Moving from “silence to violence” was Trey’s catch phrase for Ryan’s usual familial manoeuvres.

She fixed a smile and ignored her bruised face’s fierce rebellion. Oh man, what was she doing?

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Ryan glanced over his shoulder at Ty, she looked better now. Situations like this bought the best out in her. She thought lying was an Olympic sport and “running the long game”, as she put it, was her favourite event. He was glad someone could, but it made him sad it was her for reasons he couldn’t understand. Not to mention the fact she enjoyed it too much. He could see the trunk bobbing up and down in rhythm with the road, occasionally tapping his bike. He smiled because it would have broken his heart to ditch it.

They had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, which they all knew couldn’t and wouldn’t last. Sandy felt reluctant to open up conversation. An unfamiliar feeling for a lawyer, perhaps the father in him had other ideas. If he was honest, they both looked scared, hungry and a little feral. The girl was doing a good job at bravado but the hollow eyes gave her away as did Ryan’s overwhelming efforts to keep things under control. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Sandy how Ryan had directed seating arrangements. A head tilt had brought his sister back round to his side of the car, where she sat behind him.

Sandy decided to dive right in and ask the obvious. “So you wanna tell me about your face?” This was directed at Ryan and elicited no response except for him to shuffle closer to the car door and shrug. “Come on, kid. I might be a lawyer, but I’m not stupid. I know a bike accident didn’t cause that”. Ryan remained stoic in his silence.

“You know I saw you this morning right and although you probably weren’t at your best, you looked a damn sight better then you do right now.” Still nothing. Sandy decided to try another tact. He glanced into the rear-view mirror, the kid’s eyes were right there looking back.

“What about you back there? Your face doesn’t look so good either.” Tyler’s face was a day away from whatever had done the damage, which confused Sandy a little. How did the timeline work?

“You know Mr. Cohen, I have often asked myself that question. How did I end up with a face like this?” Ryan was already smiling twisting around to fully appreciate the delivery.

“I asked my mom all the time, how come I ended up this way? You know what she said? It’s the accident of birth.” She waited a beat before adding, “But if you really wanna see ugly you should take a look at my brother.”

“Hey! Watch it you!” Ryan said, enjoying the lighter moment.

Sandy laughed while nodding his head a little. It was obvious to Sandy that this child was a master of deflection and he’d allow her this small victory for the moment.

“Ah, come on Ry’, you know I meant the other brother.”

As soon as she said it panic spread through her. They wouldn’t be seeing Trey for a while. She rubbed her sneakers together working a piece of invisible dirt. Ryan pulled back looking straight ahead.

Sandy picked up on the sudden change in spirit. Trey obviously wielded a lot of emotional sway with them. He decided to volunteer the latest news hoping it would be a good “hearts and minds” tactic. “You know I spoke to Trey’s lawyer this afternoon, after your mom picked you up. He hasn’t got an arraignment date yet, but Alex has advised him to plea down his charges. It’s potentially good news really if there successful he could be looking at eighteen months rather then four years”

“I guess it’s all relative,” Ryan deadpanned.

Well, the news had fallen a little flat. Sandy needed to buy a little time, formulate a semi reasonable story for Kirsten.

“You know, I’m running a little low on gas and would love a cup of coffee. Do you wanna grab a late lunch?”

The response was muted, but Sandy took that for a yes.

Writing

Wed, 21 Nov 2007 21:32:47 GMT

I am in the process of writing my first OC fic and would really appreciate it if someone could do a read through. In particular I am looking for someone to point out any glaringly obvious "english/british" stuff in the story . Also trying to put myself under some pressure to produce something, procrastination is an art form I think I have perfected.

Any help would be much appreciated, especially about ratings and this weird lingo you guys all use. I think for example I am asking for a Beta and I like to write angst but was is AU? My fic might involve Ryan having a sister........stop!! quiet!! Do I hear a collective groan? If I do then I might change tack. I promise it won't be a hideous cheese fest if I do. I just love that Ryan/Trey Atwood back story and would love to add a common connection between them that doesn't have an edge?

Won't ramble any more as I am a couple of glasses into a bottle of white and I fear I may become truly incoherent.

Cheer me dears

Hi LiveJournal

Fri, 16 Nov 2007 21:32:06 GMT

I am totally new to all this but have been reading OC Fanfiction for about a year and thought it was about time I came out of the closet. First I got my fix on fanfiction.net, then noticed that the stories were starting to dwindle. I then stumbled on this place and have been "lurking" ever since. I am going to try to work out how to get friends on my profile so if you get a message from me it's probably because I admire and love your fiction and would like to be in the loop. Who knows I might even be brave enough to post a story of my own now I have made the giant leap of getting an account.

katbe

Opps

OC Fic - Untitled

Writing

Hi LiveJournal