Characters on Couches 2.1

Alright. So I've put it off for... well, all day.

So, Hi.

This Characters on Couches session is going to progress a little differently then last time. One, I will be using characters from a different story. My NaNoWriMo novel. I *had* planned to use three gals from my WIP Mortality, but, well I need to figure out my NaNoWriMo novel titled, as you know, Tainted.

Anyway, it's going to be written in roaming first person. I don't know if that's a thing, but that's what I call it. What I mean is that I will use multiple first person perspectives. I know, for a fact, it will be awkward as I am *highly* unskilled and unpracticed at first person.

*Anyway* I'm going to start with the fictional "I" as author, and then will switch to I, as the character. Don't judge. I'm bad at first person.

Characters on Couches 2

Sarah-Juliet and Jonathon

Here we go again.

This time, I have foregone the desk and sit instead on level with the others, facing two empty chairs. The two chairs are intentionally uncomfortable, but I am quite happy in mine. Again I have a clipboard and pen, but this time I am determined to actually take notes. 

This time, I can't use Hilia (well, technically I could, but she's from a different genre and time entirely, and she'd have so much to learn in an instant, that she wouldn't be a reliable lie detector), so I have to either trust they're telling me the truth, or figure out what they mean when they aren't. 

Hmm. 

There's a knock at the door and I jump, spitting out a piece of my pen. (That's why I buy cheap pens. I chew them up.) How long had I been staring off into space? 

"Come in, please."

Ah, so it's Jonathon first. He's... wow, he's tall. Taller than I'd thought. He's got to be well over six feet tall. I let out a quiet whistle and he grins. His height would make him intimidating, if it weren't for everything else about him. He's thin to the point of gangly, his hair is the brightest red I've seen in my life and his pale skin is *covered* in freckles. Over all, he's quite a goofy-looking guy, but at that grin... damn. He lights up a room without trying. 

"So who're we waitin' on?" He sits, lounging in the chair, somehow making the stiff wooden thing look comfortable. 

Apparently all of his height is in his legs, because I can now look him in the eye.

"You know full well, who." 

His grin widens and he laughs. Shit but this guy is charismatic. I can almost feel myself start to smile in response, but I have to maintain a serious facade. I cover my mouth with a hand and "scratch my nose" until I can be serious again. 

***

What the hell is this shit about? That woman better not have invited him. If he's here, I swear to god, I'm going to kill him. How long is this hallway? Everything around me is empty and my steps resound back at me. I'm angry. I can't get angry. I can't afford to Shift. 

Stopping, I take a deep breath, hold it for three seconds, let it out. Again. When I can feel I'm calm again, I push my way through the door that has suddenly become close. It's quite a plain door, really. Nothing special about it. I thought our author would be more ostentatious.

A woman is sitting in a... I stop just inside the door. I swear it's a... 

"Is that a throne?" 

So much for not being ostentatious. 

I swear, it really is a throne. It's twice as high as the other two chairs, and it's... it's black. But the decorations on it. I shake my head. Jesus H. Christ. They're bones. 

"Don't worry, they're not real. Please, take a seat." She waves a hand and gestures to the two seats in front of her. 

My fuse is growing short again. I'm not an idiot. I know the bones aren't real. Even an idiot could tell that. I can tell I'm getting angry because I can hear my footsteps again. I'm stomping. I sit in the chair. God damn, this thing is hard as a rock, I swear. No matter how I shift, I can't get comfortable. It's pure wood, there's no cushion whatsoever. 

"Why ya fidgeting, Jay-Jay, nervous?"

My back goes rigid. I hadn't been paying attention to the second chair. Turning I'm met with a glowing smile. Idiot. Why is he always happy? This is not a happy time. I'm irritated. 

"Calm down, Sarah-Juliet." 

"Don't call me that!" My head whips back around and I give the author the most biting stare I can manage. 

"Fine, fine. Jewel, then. Can we get started?"

"Sure!" God, Jonathon's enthusiasm is so annoying. 

At least it's not him, though. I brace myself for her first question. 

"Why do you call her Jay-Jay?" 

Relief. She turned to him first. Thank god. 

"Cuz she hates her name." He says it matter of factly. 

I shake my head again. He really is an idiot. 

"Why don't you call her Jewel, then?" Her pen is poised over her notebook. 

"I don't like it." I swear he's like a child. 

"...Alright then." There's a slight pause before she answers. She's dumbstruck too. 

"How'd you guys meet?" 

"Fuck you." I talk over Jon. "I know you know exactly how we met. You wrote, well, will write it. God damn, how is it I have knowledge of past events that haven't happened yet? You haven't written a damn word."

She shrugs. My blood begins to boil. This woman... she's just doing it to piss me off. I can feel the blood in my veins. It's getting hot. My ears are ringing. My jaw hurts. Everything hurts. No. Not now. I can't Shift now. But I'm so angry. I'm angry all the time, and it's boiling over no. 

"Jay. Look at me."

 Something cold touches my face. I can't focus. Is that... fire? No. It's not fire. It's Jonathon. Shit, Jonathon. I can't Shift. He can't see that. I can't. I'm stressing. I can't stop it. I'm shifting. My bones start to grind and stretch. It hurts. 

"Hey... Jewel. Come on. Deep breaths."

Jewel. He called me Jewel. He's never called me that before. My skin begins to cool, and my bones settle. My ears stop ringing and I can finally focus. 

We're on the floor. Jonathon's arms are... he's holding me. For the first time, I realize just how much bigger he is than I am. I'm not short, but he's... huge. But he's so thin, I don't think about it most the time. His skin is cool, too. Not burning all the time like mine. No. This isn't right. I can't do this. 

"You're so... annoying." 

He smirks at me and stands, reaching down to help me up. Ignoring his hand I sit in that god-forsaken chair again. 

The author looks completely and totally composed. God she's so irritating. But I'm cool now. Relatively. 

"Ask your question." 

"Why do you hate yourself?" Her pen is poised. 

"Go to hell. You know I hate being a werewolf. I didn't ask for this. Yet I'm a pariah." 

She nods. "Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but you hated yourself before this." 

I can feel Jonathon's gaze on the side of my head. He's curious too. Damn them. Damn everyone. 

"You want to know why? Fine. My father, on the day of my birth, killed my mother. And then he took his own life."

"And-?"

"Would you just shut up for a minute?" My breathing is heavy, but I'm not on the Edge yet. "He left no note, so everyone says that we can't know why he did that. But I do know." 

I can't sit any longer. Pacing, I can focus on the floor and my feet and not have to look at either of them. "He wanted a son. My mother didn't give him one. So he killed her. I don't know if it was sorrow or guilt that cause it, but... either was the reason for his suicide. Can I go now?"

I walk out. I don't care what her answer is.

Alright. So that's it for that. And... well, these characters are not what I expected them to be. It's nice to get to know them before November, though. 

However, I decided this is only part one of this Characters on Couches. I don't know when I will continue it, either tomorrow, or next Wednesday. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

Questions

Are you doing NaNoWriMo?

Will you be my Buddy?