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The Surly Bonds
- Thread starter citizen-seth
- Start date
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
Yes, they must be. There certainly weren't there when I copy/pasted it over. 
And by the way, he was Dutch, not German.
Seth,
I feel like I'm falling behind, and I'm technically ahead, lol. Timing is everything.
The cast does indeed start to expand, but I believe we've seen "Cam" before in this story, he being fond of boathouses and all.
Locke is Oh so pleasant to every one, isn't she? Or, maybe she just doesn't care for French Canadians for some strange reason?
Like everyone else, I keep looking forward to more.
Hey - I heard about the flooding - is that anywhere near you or anyone you know??
I feel like I'm falling behind, and I'm technically ahead, lol. Timing is everything.
The cast does indeed start to expand, but I believe we've seen "Cam" before in this story, he being fond of boathouses and all.
Locke is Oh so pleasant to every one, isn't she? Or, maybe she just doesn't care for French Canadians for some strange reason?
Like everyone else, I keep looking forward to more.
Hey - I heard about the flooding - is that anywhere near you or anyone you know??
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
You guys, I cannot believe that this threat already has over 1000 views!! That is so many more than I ever expected!! Thanks everyone for reading along, and I hope you enjoy! I'll post another chapter very soon!
ThreeCrows
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I'm hooked on this story - hope it keeps going, you're doing a great job.
On a side note, I've also been really interested in my fellow reader's speculations and theories - keep it up all!
On a side note, I've also been really interested in my fellow reader's speculations and theories - keep it up all!
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
Sorry for the lack of absence guys, its been a crazy few days. My goal is to always be several chapters a head so there will never be too much of a lull in posting, so cross your fingers that I stick to it! Muchos gracias to my copy editor! 
By Saturday morning, Friday’s rain had given way to a cloudless sky. Waylon’s boots sank slightly into the wet earth near the stables. As he neared the building’s door he heard the soft chink of metal on metal, of clasps being disengaged.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” Locke’s cool voice sliced through the silence. Waylon wasn’t sure how she had known it was him; her back was to him. “You’re boots . . . I can hear you coming a mile away.” She had answered his question without him having to ask it. “You’re going to ride with me.” It was a statement, not a question, and it wore on Waylon’s nerves.
“Maybe,” he said, trying to put a chink in her outline of events.
“Suit yourself,” she said, her hands flying around Hemlock’s bridle adjusting the straps and latches.
“Would it kill you to at least look at me when you speak to me?”
She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Nice shirt.” Waylon glanced down at the sky blue polo he was wearing.
“I just don’t get you . . . how that horse can carry both you and that chip on your shoulder is beyond me.” Without giving her any more attention, he strode down the stable’s aisle to Apollo’s stall.
----------------
Waylon was gone by the time James got out of the shower. He took advantage of the privacy by not wrapping the towel around himself as he walked to his closet to forage for clothes. As he rummaged through his underwear drawer he heard the gentle chime of his phone ringing from where he had left it on the bed.
Drawing nearer, he saw the phone’s display aglow with the smiling face of a young boy, no older than six or seven wearing a soccer kit and holding a ball. Above the photo, the name TIMOTHY was displayed.
“Well, its about time,” James said into the phone has he plopped down at his desk. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
The voice on there other end was warm and bright. “Never! How’s it going?”
James loved his brother. Though he now looked nothing like the small boy in the picture on his phone, Timothy Ravel was still his older brother’s best friend. Timothy, now beginning his junior year of high school, was a smaller version of James in every way. Both physically and in personality, they were as alike as two brothers could be.
James listened while Timothy went on to talk about his first week back to school. Soccer practice and a girl that he was ‘talking to’ seemed to be taking up most of his time, James learned. They bantered on about their respective schools and social lives. Timothy seemed to revel in the fact that he was getting more attention from girls than his brother. “How's mom doing,” James asked as he swiveled his chair around and propped his feet on the edge of his bed.
“Dude, I don’t know. I mean, she’s fine as far as I can tell, just tired a lot I guess. Seems like all she's done since you left is work and sleep.”
“Well, James said, trying to make his voice sound as reassuringly as possible, “I’m sure she’s fine. Probably just catching up on sleep; it was long summer for all of us.”
“Yeah, you’re right . . . so, when are you coming home?”
“I don’t even know” James said glancing on the calendar on his desk. “I mean, Christmas for sure. Maybe Thanksgiving? It’ll just depend.”
The voice on the opposite end of the phone sounded almost disappointed. “Just don’t forget about us, okay?”
As much as he didn’t like making Timothy miss him, James couldn’t deny that the slight tinge of sadness in his brother’s voice did make him happy to feel missed. “Never!”
Apollo’s hooves clacked against the ground. Waylon tightened his pinkie finger and the horses glided away from the reigns, turning into the jumping path. He stood out of the saddle as Apollo’s front feet left the ground and vaulted over the jump. Clearing the path, he turned his head to watch Locke and Hemlock take the same jump. Hemlock made the jump easily, and Lock’s long pony tail billowed behind her as she settled back into her seat.
“Now, are you staring in marvel of my jumping technique or of my ass,” Locke said, pulling up beside Apollo.
“Ass, I assure you.”
Locke almost smiled. “Of course . . . too bad you couldn’t get your roommate to try on a pair of breeches. That’s the view you’re really looking for.”
“Excuse me,” Waylon said, riding alongside her.
“Oh, come on. The gay boy just happens to have a hot roommate who loves going shirtless all the time . . . don’t tell me you don’t like that.”
Waylon was caught off guard by Locke’s candor. “I mean,” he stammered, “ I’m not saying I hate it or anything . . . I mean, yeah, he’s hot. He knows that, but I’m not, like, lusting after him or anything.” Locke’s eyebrows raised in his direction. “I’m not! I promise . . . it’s really not like that at all.”
“Is that what James thinks?” At Locke’s words Waylon’s mind began to race. He had tried to keep any feelings that were not pure friendship out of his mind. Falling in love with a straight boy was going to do no one any good. Waylon had learned that lesson in high school and had no intentions of repeating it now with his best friend.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Waylon said, trying to play cool. “He’s not exactly my type.”
“Oh yeah? What exactly is your type, then?”
“Well,” Waylon said, as he flexed his thighs against Apollo’s flanks, “the first requirement is that you like boys.” Before he listed off any other requirements, Apollo responded to his command and trotted away.
“How do you do this,” Guy asked incredulously. He had been sitting across the table from Cameron for over an hour before Cameron had told him what he had wanted to know.
“As I have said before,” Cameron began again, “I simply have a feeling about her.”
“You have a lot of feelings,” Guy said. “A lot of feelings that seem to always be right. You know, after three years of knowing you, I’ve just learned not to expect answers, but I don’t get how you can help me get any girl I want, but I’ve never even seen you go on a date.”
Cameron looked down at the table in mock bashfulness. “As I have said before on numerous occasions, I am waiting for the right person.”
“How long are you gonna wait? You’re not getting any younger.”
“I assure you. I have plenty of time.”
“Well,” Guy said, standing up. “I’ve got a heart to go win. And hey, you never know; maybe you’ll just go meet the man of your dreams.”
Cameron looked at his friend. “Perchance.”
Waylon stayed in the arena for an hour. He made sure to go over every jump at least once, passing over several of them twice as he created his own small jumping patterns. As the sun rose, so did the temperature, and it was not long before he was locking Apollo back in his stall and made his way out of the barn.
As he passed the jumping course he saw Locke barrel around the arena. She had raised a jump to its highest posting and was preparing to cantor over the five foot height, a feat they had been instructed to not attempt alone. He paused at the fence to watch her. She brought Hemlock around the corner and into the jumping path. The horse’s muscles flexed and loosened in rhythm as he raced toward the jump. Locke leaned up into the jumping position, and just before the horse’s front legs rose up into the air, it froze, dead in its tracks. Locke’s boots left her stirrups and she flew over Hemlock’s ears. Her long blonde ponytail fluttered behind her as she arched up over the jump and curved back towards the earth. Waylon was clearing the fence before Locke hit the ground. Before the dust had settled from her impact, Waylon was by her side. “Are you alright?!”
Locke gasped for the air that had been knocked from her lungs. “I’m fine,” she said, regaining her breath. Waylon made a motion to help her up, but she protested. “Fuck off, Way.”
Waylon’s blood boiled. Not only had Locke been irresponsible, but now she was being a bitch. Whatever last hope Waylon had for liking her was gone, and he let his anger pour out.
“You stupid bitch! You can’t let anyone do anything for you! Stop trying to fight off every nice thought that comes your way! I don’t know who it was that did whatever it was to make you so pissed off at the rest of us, but it wasn’t me, so get the fuck over it!” Locke’s eyes were wide and he mouth was open, but he didn’t stop. “Don’t be one of those people that’s too busy being angry to live. I’m not going to put up with you like that; don’t be one of them. Change or leave; get a new partner. I don’t care at this point.”
Waylon paused for a breath. He finally noticed the look on Locke’s face and wondered if he was the first of her peers to ever stand up to her; probably so, he surmised. “Are you done,” Locke asked coldly.
“Yes . . . are you?” Waylon stood up, and held out his hand.
Locke didn’t take it. Instead she stood up on her own power, and brushed off her clothes. Finally, she looked up and into Waylon’s eyes. “Yes”
Locke waited until after Waylon left the stable before heading to the barn’s washroom to splash cool water on her face. She put her face close to the mirror, staring into her own green eyes. She silently berated herself for being so careless in front of someone. And who was Waylon Wood to counsel her on attitude adjustment? . . . Still, she would have to work with him, for a year, at least. Things could change, but until then she would bite her tongue, something she had become very, very adept at.
She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and saw missed calls from both her father and her mother. He cleared them from her phone’s history, not wanting to be forced to be the go between in whatever fight they chose to have today. Just before she could turn the bathroom’s doorknob she found it pulling away from her fingers. Locke, startled, looked up into Guy Roe’s dark chocolate eyes.
“I saw your bag . . .” he said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“And so you came in here to perv on me,” Locke asked angrily. She brushed passed him and out into the stalls.
“No . . . I came to see what you were doing Sunday night.”
“Sunday night? I’ll be sleeping. I have an early class on Monday.”
“Wrong answer,” he said stepping in front of her. “Monday is Labour Day - no class. We’re having a party at the house. You should come.”
“I don’t think so,” Locke said, sidestepping him.”
“Katherine,” Guy said gripping her arm, “je me souviens.”
Locke’s mouth was open and her eyes darted questioningly into Guy’s. She studied him for a millisecond before wrenching her arm out of his grasp and quickly leaving the barn.
Chapter 8
One of Them
One of Them
By Saturday morning, Friday’s rain had given way to a cloudless sky. Waylon’s boots sank slightly into the wet earth near the stables. As he neared the building’s door he heard the soft chink of metal on metal, of clasps being disengaged.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” Locke’s cool voice sliced through the silence. Waylon wasn’t sure how she had known it was him; her back was to him. “You’re boots . . . I can hear you coming a mile away.” She had answered his question without him having to ask it. “You’re going to ride with me.” It was a statement, not a question, and it wore on Waylon’s nerves.
“Maybe,” he said, trying to put a chink in her outline of events.
“Suit yourself,” she said, her hands flying around Hemlock’s bridle adjusting the straps and latches.
“Would it kill you to at least look at me when you speak to me?”
She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Nice shirt.” Waylon glanced down at the sky blue polo he was wearing.
“I just don’t get you . . . how that horse can carry both you and that chip on your shoulder is beyond me.” Without giving her any more attention, he strode down the stable’s aisle to Apollo’s stall.
----------------
Waylon was gone by the time James got out of the shower. He took advantage of the privacy by not wrapping the towel around himself as he walked to his closet to forage for clothes. As he rummaged through his underwear drawer he heard the gentle chime of his phone ringing from where he had left it on the bed.
Drawing nearer, he saw the phone’s display aglow with the smiling face of a young boy, no older than six or seven wearing a soccer kit and holding a ball. Above the photo, the name TIMOTHY was displayed.
“Well, its about time,” James said into the phone has he plopped down at his desk. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me.”
The voice on there other end was warm and bright. “Never! How’s it going?”
James loved his brother. Though he now looked nothing like the small boy in the picture on his phone, Timothy Ravel was still his older brother’s best friend. Timothy, now beginning his junior year of high school, was a smaller version of James in every way. Both physically and in personality, they were as alike as two brothers could be.
James listened while Timothy went on to talk about his first week back to school. Soccer practice and a girl that he was ‘talking to’ seemed to be taking up most of his time, James learned. They bantered on about their respective schools and social lives. Timothy seemed to revel in the fact that he was getting more attention from girls than his brother. “How's mom doing,” James asked as he swiveled his chair around and propped his feet on the edge of his bed.
“Dude, I don’t know. I mean, she’s fine as far as I can tell, just tired a lot I guess. Seems like all she's done since you left is work and sleep.”
“Well, James said, trying to make his voice sound as reassuringly as possible, “I’m sure she’s fine. Probably just catching up on sleep; it was long summer for all of us.”
“Yeah, you’re right . . . so, when are you coming home?”
“I don’t even know” James said glancing on the calendar on his desk. “I mean, Christmas for sure. Maybe Thanksgiving? It’ll just depend.”
The voice on the opposite end of the phone sounded almost disappointed. “Just don’t forget about us, okay?”
As much as he didn’t like making Timothy miss him, James couldn’t deny that the slight tinge of sadness in his brother’s voice did make him happy to feel missed. “Never!”
----------------
Apollo’s hooves clacked against the ground. Waylon tightened his pinkie finger and the horses glided away from the reigns, turning into the jumping path. He stood out of the saddle as Apollo’s front feet left the ground and vaulted over the jump. Clearing the path, he turned his head to watch Locke and Hemlock take the same jump. Hemlock made the jump easily, and Lock’s long pony tail billowed behind her as she settled back into her seat.
“Now, are you staring in marvel of my jumping technique or of my ass,” Locke said, pulling up beside Apollo.
“Ass, I assure you.”
Locke almost smiled. “Of course . . . too bad you couldn’t get your roommate to try on a pair of breeches. That’s the view you’re really looking for.”
“Excuse me,” Waylon said, riding alongside her.
“Oh, come on. The gay boy just happens to have a hot roommate who loves going shirtless all the time . . . don’t tell me you don’t like that.”
Waylon was caught off guard by Locke’s candor. “I mean,” he stammered, “ I’m not saying I hate it or anything . . . I mean, yeah, he’s hot. He knows that, but I’m not, like, lusting after him or anything.” Locke’s eyebrows raised in his direction. “I’m not! I promise . . . it’s really not like that at all.”
“Is that what James thinks?” At Locke’s words Waylon’s mind began to race. He had tried to keep any feelings that were not pure friendship out of his mind. Falling in love with a straight boy was going to do no one any good. Waylon had learned that lesson in high school and had no intentions of repeating it now with his best friend.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Waylon said, trying to play cool. “He’s not exactly my type.”
“Oh yeah? What exactly is your type, then?”
“Well,” Waylon said, as he flexed his thighs against Apollo’s flanks, “the first requirement is that you like boys.” Before he listed off any other requirements, Apollo responded to his command and trotted away.
--------------
“How do you do this,” Guy asked incredulously. He had been sitting across the table from Cameron for over an hour before Cameron had told him what he had wanted to know.
“As I have said before,” Cameron began again, “I simply have a feeling about her.”
“You have a lot of feelings,” Guy said. “A lot of feelings that seem to always be right. You know, after three years of knowing you, I’ve just learned not to expect answers, but I don’t get how you can help me get any girl I want, but I’ve never even seen you go on a date.”
Cameron looked down at the table in mock bashfulness. “As I have said before on numerous occasions, I am waiting for the right person.”
“How long are you gonna wait? You’re not getting any younger.”
“I assure you. I have plenty of time.”
“Well,” Guy said, standing up. “I’ve got a heart to go win. And hey, you never know; maybe you’ll just go meet the man of your dreams.”
Cameron looked at his friend. “Perchance.”
--------------
Waylon stayed in the arena for an hour. He made sure to go over every jump at least once, passing over several of them twice as he created his own small jumping patterns. As the sun rose, so did the temperature, and it was not long before he was locking Apollo back in his stall and made his way out of the barn.
As he passed the jumping course he saw Locke barrel around the arena. She had raised a jump to its highest posting and was preparing to cantor over the five foot height, a feat they had been instructed to not attempt alone. He paused at the fence to watch her. She brought Hemlock around the corner and into the jumping path. The horse’s muscles flexed and loosened in rhythm as he raced toward the jump. Locke leaned up into the jumping position, and just before the horse’s front legs rose up into the air, it froze, dead in its tracks. Locke’s boots left her stirrups and she flew over Hemlock’s ears. Her long blonde ponytail fluttered behind her as she arched up over the jump and curved back towards the earth. Waylon was clearing the fence before Locke hit the ground. Before the dust had settled from her impact, Waylon was by her side. “Are you alright?!”
Locke gasped for the air that had been knocked from her lungs. “I’m fine,” she said, regaining her breath. Waylon made a motion to help her up, but she protested. “Fuck off, Way.”
Waylon’s blood boiled. Not only had Locke been irresponsible, but now she was being a bitch. Whatever last hope Waylon had for liking her was gone, and he let his anger pour out.
“You stupid bitch! You can’t let anyone do anything for you! Stop trying to fight off every nice thought that comes your way! I don’t know who it was that did whatever it was to make you so pissed off at the rest of us, but it wasn’t me, so get the fuck over it!” Locke’s eyes were wide and he mouth was open, but he didn’t stop. “Don’t be one of those people that’s too busy being angry to live. I’m not going to put up with you like that; don’t be one of them. Change or leave; get a new partner. I don’t care at this point.”
Waylon paused for a breath. He finally noticed the look on Locke’s face and wondered if he was the first of her peers to ever stand up to her; probably so, he surmised. “Are you done,” Locke asked coldly.
“Yes . . . are you?” Waylon stood up, and held out his hand.
Locke didn’t take it. Instead she stood up on her own power, and brushed off her clothes. Finally, she looked up and into Waylon’s eyes. “Yes”
--------------
Locke waited until after Waylon left the stable before heading to the barn’s washroom to splash cool water on her face. She put her face close to the mirror, staring into her own green eyes. She silently berated herself for being so careless in front of someone. And who was Waylon Wood to counsel her on attitude adjustment? . . . Still, she would have to work with him, for a year, at least. Things could change, but until then she would bite her tongue, something she had become very, very adept at.
She fished her cell phone out of her pocket and saw missed calls from both her father and her mother. He cleared them from her phone’s history, not wanting to be forced to be the go between in whatever fight they chose to have today. Just before she could turn the bathroom’s doorknob she found it pulling away from her fingers. Locke, startled, looked up into Guy Roe’s dark chocolate eyes.
“I saw your bag . . .” he said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“And so you came in here to perv on me,” Locke asked angrily. She brushed passed him and out into the stalls.
“No . . . I came to see what you were doing Sunday night.”
“Sunday night? I’ll be sleeping. I have an early class on Monday.”
“Wrong answer,” he said stepping in front of her. “Monday is Labour Day - no class. We’re having a party at the house. You should come.”
“I don’t think so,” Locke said, sidestepping him.”
“Katherine,” Guy said gripping her arm, “je me souviens.”
Locke’s mouth was open and her eyes darted questioningly into Guy’s. She studied him for a millisecond before wrenching her arm out of his grasp and quickly leaving the barn.
Um...as far as I'm concerned, you can fail to be absent as much as you want!
I was so glad to see Waylon yell at Locke. She deserves it. I hope he requests a new partner and gets one. If she wants to jump alone, let her: and if she cracks her skull, it's not like the world will suffer much.
ThreeCrows
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I like Locke, a lot really - all of her aggressive behavior actually seems like a defensive tactic to keep people at arms length. I am hoping that the "are you done?" part between Locke and Way refers to their argument rather than their year long partnership. She seems smart, sharp and very observant - I'm getting a sort of "unsung hero/heroine" vibe.
Also, it's "Catherine" when she introduces herself to Way, and "Katherine" when Guy talks to her in the barn. Is that significant? Just curious because the monograms seem to be important.
Also, it's "Catherine" when she introduces herself to Way, and "Katherine" when Guy talks to her in the barn. Is that significant? Just curious because the monograms seem to be important.
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
I'm glad not everyone hates Locke!!
And that's actually typo that slipped by me and my copy editor. I'll have to dock his pay!!
Thanks for pointing it out!!
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
The cartoon or the Bronte character?
ThreeCrows
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I'm glad not everyone hates Locke!!
And that's actually typo that slipped by me and my copy editor. I'll have to dock his pay!!
Thanks for pointing it out!!
Awww - I was trying to assign number combinations to C.L.A. and K.L.A. for Locke's monograms - just because of the thing with James' and Way's SS and ID numbers. Now I'm glad I didn't get anything!
Hope you keep going with this.
Which one had a truly monstrous love-hate relationship with Catherine?
Btw, 'Je me souviens' is the motto of Quebec (where Guy is from, IIRC).
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
Seth,
Do I get to dock your pay for not fixing all the typo's I DID find? lol.
On to the story. Yes, Locke is definitely a difficult child.
I'm accepting that her whole character was warped by a mysterious trip years ago that left her parents somewhat incapable of real human emotion, other than bickering, apparently, and left her a very wounded, extremely defensive child as a result.
AND, I'm much more interested in the conversation on the phone between James and his brother, Timothy. Mom just seems to work and be tired all the time - and it was a very "long" Summer? What caused their Summer to be so long? I suspect it was a lot more than just James preparing to leave the roost.
I look for some nuances, but my mind isn't going to pick up on a lot of the literary subtleties, I'm afraid. I read volumes, but I don't know that I can recall all the detail of classics.
I'm reading this on a few different levels, already. When I'm proofing, I'm reading, but I'm looking for typo's, syntax and such, so the full flavour of the story may get by me.
Then, when the chapter is posted, I have to be careful not to be too much in re-proof mode, although it's there. But, this is when I try to taste the full flavour of the tale, along with everyone else.
Sorry about the C/K thing. I DID find another name "inconsistency" that was removed altogether. You can give me 20 lashes with your tongue in a very sensitive area.
Hmm, maybe even 40, lol.
You're becoming quite the night owl, e-mailing and posting at 3-4AM EDT - even with you being in CDT, that's long on.
Oh, well, I was young, once, too, lol.
Keep them coming, Seth.
Do I get to dock your pay for not fixing all the typo's I DID find? lol.
On to the story. Yes, Locke is definitely a difficult child.
I'm accepting that her whole character was warped by a mysterious trip years ago that left her parents somewhat incapable of real human emotion, other than bickering, apparently, and left her a very wounded, extremely defensive child as a result.
AND, I'm much more interested in the conversation on the phone between James and his brother, Timothy. Mom just seems to work and be tired all the time - and it was a very "long" Summer? What caused their Summer to be so long? I suspect it was a lot more than just James preparing to leave the roost.
I look for some nuances, but my mind isn't going to pick up on a lot of the literary subtleties, I'm afraid. I read volumes, but I don't know that I can recall all the detail of classics.
I'm reading this on a few different levels, already. When I'm proofing, I'm reading, but I'm looking for typo's, syntax and such, so the full flavour of the story may get by me.
Then, when the chapter is posted, I have to be careful not to be too much in re-proof mode, although it's there. But, this is when I try to taste the full flavour of the tale, along with everyone else.
Sorry about the C/K thing. I DID find another name "inconsistency" that was removed altogether. You can give me 20 lashes with your tongue in a very sensitive area.
Hmm, maybe even 40, lol.
You're becoming quite the night owl, e-mailing and posting at 3-4AM EDT - even with you being in CDT, that's long on.
Oh, well, I was young, once, too, lol.
Keep them coming, Seth.
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Excellent chapter, Seth! I'm liking the ways your story is building/developing!
And, sorry, but I'm still not liking Locke! Granted, I'm suspecting there is a lot more to her than we've been let privy to, so far. Still, I found myself being rather "pleased" when she was leveled by both the failed jump, and Way's rant. What I didn't quite get, though, was her thought of "biting her tongue", which she doesn't seem to have a problem with, at all. Perhaps she "knows" much more, about the people around her, than she's letting on. And, for that, I'm finding her rather fascinating, even though she has been such a bitch!
A small thing ... is it Guy Roe, or Guy Or?
And, aw, the (also) mysterious, auburn maned, Cameron. I'm liking his reserved manner. And, I'm getting the feeling that Way is going to find that "interesting", too.
Thank You, Seth! Looking forward to More!
Keep smilin'!!
Chaz
And, sorry, but I'm still not liking Locke! Granted, I'm suspecting there is a lot more to her than we've been let privy to, so far. Still, I found myself being rather "pleased" when she was leveled by both the failed jump, and Way's rant. What I didn't quite get, though, was her thought of "biting her tongue", which she doesn't seem to have a problem with, at all. Perhaps she "knows" much more, about the people around her, than she's letting on. And, for that, I'm finding her rather fascinating, even though she has been such a bitch!
A small thing ... is it Guy Roe, or Guy Or?
And, aw, the (also) mysterious, auburn maned, Cameron. I'm liking his reserved manner. And, I'm getting the feeling that Way is going to find that "interesting", too.
Thank You, Seth! Looking forward to More!
Keep smilin'!!
Chaz
Chaz,
You're not the only one who's confused. It was Roe during all the early back and forth editing, when he and his mom were from another place related to a horse's name.
Then, Seth uncovered his surprise, and changed their home country to O', Canada - a la Quebecois, and changed the surname to Or - or at least he tried to -- his Edit/Replace does not seem to have taken hold - nor, apparently, the callout from his copy editor, upon who it dawned that the "wrong" (albeit only on said editor had seen for months) one was still in the chapter, lol.
Just go with the flow, Chaz. It's the story that's the important part. Roe = Or. Kinda like Quistadors = conquistadores, if you get my drift.
You're not the only one who's confused. It was Roe during all the early back and forth editing, when he and his mom were from another place related to a horse's name.
Then, Seth uncovered his surprise, and changed their home country to O', Canada - a la Quebecois, and changed the surname to Or - or at least he tried to -- his Edit/Replace does not seem to have taken hold - nor, apparently, the callout from his copy editor, upon who it dawned that the "wrong" (albeit only on said editor had seen for months) one was still in the chapter, lol.
Just go with the flow, Chaz. It's the story that's the important part. Roe = Or. Kinda like Quistadors = conquistadores, if you get my drift.
citizen-seth
On the Prowl
Yes, yes, yes, it's Or all the way. I am 100% I changed that before I posted it on here, but I guess I can also be 100% wrong about that. lol
But yes, it is Or. 'Or' as in the French word for gold.
Hmmm, Roe = Fish Eggs ~ In Russia(did we mention Russia, or the USSR in this story?), that would translate to Sturgeon Fish Eggs = Beluga Caviar.
At the going rate for this endangered species "treat" of the rich and famous, I guess "Roe" really DOES Equal "Or", lol.
