[Fan Fiction] Life in Black and Yellow

Zayne 12-02-2006 01:04 PM
Life in Black and Yellow
A paper by Caleia Beck


Family, home, comfort. Not for me. My family is divided in two by the law. My father and his line are infamous criminals, Jason Beck II, Jason Beck I, Raven Valentine. My mom and her family are what I call "the Black side." Zayne Catherine Smith, Roger Smith, Yin Nakahara.

So what does that make me?

My sister and I are different. Bonny is blonde and bouncy, like Dad and his half. I'm serious and focused, like Mom and Grandad. I work late into the night on assignments, but Bonny does too. I get the feeling that Bonny will become a criminal like Dad and Grampa. But what can I do? I'm being unofficially trained do take over for Grandad. So I'm screwed. Bonny and I are twins, but we couldn't be more opposite. There are times I feel like I'm living Mom's dream and Bonny's living Dad's. We are so screwed over. It isn't fair.

We were predestined to take this path. Well, I hate destiny if it plants a rift in my family like this. Maybe I will be a Negotiator, maybe I will play out my mother's dream. No one can choose for me. If they could, I know Grandad would have shielded me from my earthly obligation. Once he got too old, it fell to me to pilot the black Megadeus. Big O tells me to follow what I want to do. Well, I'm lost. I don't trust in a higher power to guide me. I trust in myself, but I'm still lost. I walk through my life, seeing only color and an endless maze. That's what is it. Life in black and yellow. Yellow for crime, black for justice.

So what am I?
Delirious 12-03-2006 02:54 PM
Sweet! More please!
Zayne 12-15-2006 09:44 AM
The Flair of the Dramatic
Caleia Beck


Someone help me figure this out: I'm 16, I'm a mix of the Becks and the Smiths, and my destiny is out to screw me over. I live with my Grandad, Roger Smith, and I have since I was 14. So guess what destiny pulled on me? I'm next in line to be Big O's dominus. Okay. No big deal. Here where it gets weird. I'm ME, Caleia Seret Mariah Beck, and yet I get the Gryffon and Big O. Something is not right here.

So, here I sit in Biology, listening to the birds run around behind me, trying to figure out what went wrong in the creation of my fate. Or the creation of me. Let's see: Grandad + Gramma = Mom. Duh. Grampa + Grams = Dad. Okay. If it weren't for my twin, I could swear Mom was having an affair.

Black and white shouldn't be opposite; it should be black and yellow.
paul1290 12-15-2006 07:07 PM
I'm a bit confused right now.

Oh well, nice fanfiction! Big Grin
Nine Kuze 12-17-2006 12:53 AM
quote:
Originally posted by paul1290
I'm a bit confused right now.

If you're talking about the family tree Paul, then I'm a little confused myself as well. So Roger's family consist of Zayne Catherine Smith and Yin Nakahara as Beck's family is with Junior and Raven Valentine. Then, Zayne and Junior are Caleia's parents?

But this nice so far and hope to get more as well as from Bonnie's side as well. Also, Caleia is a very nice name. Good job on that.
Peace.
Zayne 12-17-2006 08:41 AM
That's about the size of it. Yin is Zayne's mother. Zayne is Roger's child. Raven is Jason II's mother, and Beck is his father. Zayne and Jason produced Caleia and Bonny.
Mrs. Beck 12-22-2006 04:12 PM
quote:
Originally posted by Nine XXVI
quote:
Originally posted by paul1290
I'm a bit confused right now.

If you're talking about the family tree Paul, then I'm a little confused myself as well. So Roger's family consist of Zayne Catherine Smith and Yin Nakahara as Beck's family is with Junior and Raven Valentine. Then, Zayne and Junior are Caleia's parents?

But this nice so far and hope to get more as well as from Bonnie's side as well. Also, Caleia is a very nice name. Good job on that.
Peace.


Yuppers, that's it. *pokes Zayne's post above her* Yeah, my twin's already got it. Heh. The family tree is confusing, yes, I know.
This is great stuff so far, Zayne! Happy Though, I've already told you that ... but ... whatever!
Hmmm ... *looks at Nine XXVI's request* ... If it's alright with Zayne, I'd love to add some stuff from Bonny's side of it all. Happy I just hope it doesn't seem too bad compared to her writing - jeeze, she's good!

EDIT: Oopsies: I should probably say something here just in case anybody who's reading this doesn't know already. Zayne and I have been known to write alot of stuff together - though these blurbs were all her wonderful idea - and we came up with the scenario together. Bonny's my character; that's why I would probably be the one writing blurbs from her perspective. Yeah, I hope that helps my post make a little more sense ...
Mrs. Beck 12-22-2006 07:09 PM
A Sick, Sick Sense of Humor
From the Mind of Bonny Beck


There are often days when I wonder what the heck Fate and Destiny were drinking/smoking when they came up with my sister and I. Not to mock the pre-determining overlords of life or anything, but man, they have GOT to have some sort of sick and twisted sense of humor!

You could say that Cal and I are like the result of a freak-expeiriment: we’re the result of a venture into that wonderful realm of ‘Places Which Mankind Was Not Meant To Venture’. This venture happened to take place in a bedroom, however. Well, actually, knowing our parents, it really could have happened almost anywhere. They really aren’t picky when it comes to expressing their love for each other. Disturbing, but true. Anyway, before I gross myself out too much (ewww!), I’ll move on.

There’s a definite divide in my family, one which – even though we’re twins – Cal and I carried on, in one sense, at least. Y’see, even though we’re thick as thieves (no pun intended), we’re completely different. And that, my friends, is NOT an exaggeration! Cal is intellectual, cool-headed (to an extent), organized, loves to read, gets straight A’s, can be quite pessimistic, and is being trained to follow in Grampa Smith (Crow-boy)’s footsteps. I, on the other hand, am vivacious, stubborn, hot-headed, disorganized, love to tinker with/be around/learn about machines of all kinds, only put enough effort into school to get passing grades, lean toward optimistic, and have been influenced much more by Gramps (Jason Beck I) than Crow-boy. If you didn’t catch a trend of contradiction in those two descriptions, I’m sad to say that you need to go sit in a corner and think about where your parents might have gone wrong with your education.

More and more I find myself becoming conscious of the stares, the whispering, and all that other crap I get in public. You would think that years and years of it would only make me oblivious, but instead, I’ve grown to hate it all. I know why people act the way they do: it’s the hair, man, the hair!! I love it just as much as I’m proud of my family name (that’s quite a lot), but it’s such a bright shade of blond that it sticks out in a crowd and brands me for who I am: a Beck. I mean, Cal doesn’t have to go through it all in the same extreme degree that I do, but still, I feel for her. We support each other; it’s our job as sisters, as well as the best friends we’ve ever had.

On an ending note, I just want to say one thing: Fate – Destiny – if you’re listening, I hope you’ve had your fill of laughs, because I’m sick of it.
Mrs. Beck 01-30-2007 09:19 PM
((Yeah, so ... we haven't updated this in awhile. Embarrassed Sweatdrop So, I had some free time on my hands, and I decided to. I think this one might have been a bit better than the last one. Right then. Enough of this, on with the update!!))


Moral Dilemmas = Suckage!
From the mind of Bonny Beck


Hey, you fellow teenagers out there: If you think you’ve ever faced some moral dilemma of somekind, try living my life for a day. Saying ‘no’ to peer pressure – y’know, all that stuff they have those programs in school for, like drugs and stuff – it’s a toughie, I know, and I’ll grant you that. But at least you know to say ‘no’, and it’s only saying it that’s the tough part. Confused? Let me explain.

My sister, Cal, she’s being trained to be a negotiator. Follow in Crow-boy’s footsteps. Pilot that mechanical miracle, the big black megadeus itself, the Big O. You know, all that good stuff. She’s a Smith through-and-through, despite her last name being a total contradiction to that. She’s even getting the Griffon eventually – maybe even soon. Yeah, you heard me right, the friggin’ Griffon! So, as you might have guessed, she’s got a pretty innate sense of justice, despite the other half of our lineage; she’s totally Crow-boy’s favorite. I actually don’t envy her a bit – well, except maybe about getting the Big O and the Griffon – but that’s not the point. I’m happy for her, she gets to do something that I know she was born ready for (not literally, but you know …).

Well, I was born ready for somethin’ too. You know what that somethin’ is? Crime. Allow me to explain myself.

You know how, as you may have guessed, Cal’s totally Grampa Smith’s favorite? Well … I’m totally Grampa Beck’s favorite. Why? Because all those genes that Cal got, Mom’s genes, I think she got all of ‘em, even mine. And I think I must’ve gotten all of Dad’s genes, even hers. What I’m trying to say is that, while she’s a thorough-bred Smith, I’m a thorough-bred Beck. Mom’s never approved of Gramps’ influence, and I know that Dad was a bit hesitant about it at times, too – but the fact of the matter is (and I know this, ‘cause he’s told me before), Gramps wants me to be his ‘heir’. That means, he wants me to do what Dad didn’t: follow in his footsteps, take over his crime legacy once he’s long gone. Yeah, so … moral dilemma much. I’ve been raised for this, practically – no, really. I know so much more about crime than a kid my age should. I could pick a lock in an instant, for example. That’s just an easy trick of the trade, of course, but I know so much more; I wouldn’t dare reveal what he’s taught me here, though.

Part of me knows it’s wrong. But over the years, that part of me has grown smaller and smaller. So, fine, I’ll admit that I’ve become quite the punk – but what the hell else am I supposed to do? You might be saying, ‘Well, she could just buckle down in school and steady hard and try to change her ways.’ Ha. Ha ha. That’s a good one. First of all, none of those stupid friggin’ teachers at school even think I’m smart enough to read a friggin’ book. Which is way wrong, by the way, because I’m plenty intelligent – honestly, I am. I get great grades. But they still think of me as some dumbass delinquent who can’t do squat, and so, I’ve sorta grown a bit of resentment towards school over the years. Once again, Mom hates that I don’t try at all in school, but … it’s not like I like seeing my Mom’s disappointment. In fact, I hate it, I really really hate it. But once again, I’m stuck between pleasing my Mom’s side of the family, or pleasing my Dad’s side of the family.

By the way, just in case you haven’t figured it out yet, Grampa Smith and I don’t have the best relationship in the world right now. He doesn’t trust me; I know, ‘cause I can see it in his eyes every time he looks at me. It probably doesn’t help that I call him ‘Crow-Boy’, but I know that’s not all: it’s because I’m like my Dad – who, amazingly enough, is like his dad. And I don’t need to get into the hard feelings between him and the Negotiator, ‘cause I’m sure you’re well aware of ‘em.

So, what the hell am I supposed to do? Do I continue to follow in my grandpa’s footsteps, or do I turn over a new leaf? … Hm. I dunno, my brain hurts from all this ‘deep thinking’ crap – I think I need to give it a rest for tonight!
Zayne 01-31-2007 02:00 PM
Crying Through My Smile
From the Mind of Caleia Beck


I always wear a mask; just like Mom and Grandad. Thing is, I'm not 100%-pitch-black Smith. I am a Beck. Not that it matters; Paradigm only sees one color. I am Black, my sister is Yellow. Night and day, good and evil, justice and crime, me and Bonny.

Don't get me wrong: I am more morally responsible than my sister. Such is my nature. Bonny's the fighter, I'm the student. I moved in with Grandad some months ago to begin my schooling as a Negotiator and model citizen. That wasn't my own intention; I had the room right beside Mom and Dad's, and the noises I heard gave me nightmares (ahem!). Also, it's hard to hold secrets when I'm using the phone, and Bonny's only a paper-thin wall away. Thus it's impossible to keep my boyfriend secret.

Paradigm sees a mask, like Grandad's. Always a complacent smile and a nod of the head. Behind that mask, my eyes are red. I cry, unlike the android (no offense) people believe me to be. This is what I mean when I say "I'm just crying through my smile".
Zayne 04-21-2007 10:54 PM
Observations
From the Mind of Caleia Seret Mariah Beck


There are two things Grandad and I don't agree on: guns and guys. I'm like Dad in that sense; I don't believe in not carrying a weapon. Not with who we are. So no; I'm not Grandad's perfect girl. I'm a pretty good shot with my Beretta 92FS. And I'm not exactly unpopular with the boys at school. It's like when I hear that song of Grandad's that's just jazz sax; you can't help but picture a sexy and mysterious young woman. Ha! I flatter myself, but the fact that my black hair falls ever-so-sensually over my left eye doesn't hurt anyone but them.

Grandad wouldn't like that I'd said that. Oh well. He still doesn't know I'm dating Michael Seebach's grandson, Jonathan. Yeah; Grandad can be a bit dense. Don't tell Dad I said that. Anyway, Jon and I haven't been dating all that long. Just since my birthday. He. Is. Perfect. That's all I can say. He's brilliant, kind, considerate. If Grandad knew, he would approve. With the pyromania gone, Jonathan may have taken his place, but he's not as psychotic. That's impossible.

I went with Grandad to the cemetary a few days ago. I've never seen him so solemn and looking so broken. We were visiting Dan Daustan's grave. He passed away before I was born, so I never knew him, but Grandad seemed to miss him a great deal. I guess even he's human too, though he may not act it. I remember the first time I went there.

I was a few years old, possibly 4 or 5. Mom and I went with Grandad and Gramma. I got bored; I usually do. I remember distinctly Grandad saying, "I haven't visited for a while. I'm sorry. I haven't been able to tell you yet, but I'm a grandfather now. Zayne had twins." Then he sighed. "I really wish you could have met them. One takes after her father, but Cal's like Zayne: perfect." That's when Mom told me that Grandad's best friend had left this world.

I'm afraid I have to stop. I'm tearing up at the memories. It never seemed fair to me at all that Grandad's closest friend was killed in the line of duty while Grandad stayed so safe.
Mrs. Beck 04-28-2007 12:15 AM
What's So Great About Romance, Anyway?
From the mind of Bonny Beck


In my oppinion, there's nothing better than a nice, brisk jog across the school grounds after a good, hardy lunch. Especially when 'across school grounds' is more like 'across one section of the dome which contains the school', 'a nice, brisk jog' is more like 'a high-speed sprint', and 'a good, hardy lunch' is more like 'a bag of chips I managed to mooch off of a friend of mine'. Talk about fun! Whoo-hoo! But seriously, folks. Today, I managed to rile up a couple of muscle-head-thugs and for the majority of the afternoon it was a game of hide-and-seek in the dome where our school is located. And that's one of those times when I thank God for my light-weight, lanky frame. Outrunning those punks was a peice of cake! The wimps eventually gave up and trudged on back to the school grounds before the teachers figured out that they were missing, but it was still fun while it lasted.

So that's my view on excercise, for ya. Hey, it works for me - you don't see me bothering with calorie counting or any of those nasty salads (meat all the way, chica!). See, those are two of the things that make me laugh, really. I just don't see the point in all the fussing that most girls my age do over their figure and all that crap. Well, then again, I've never really had to much trouble with that sort of thing ... heh heh. Like Cal, attracting guys ain't exactly too much of a chore for me, unfortunately. I say 'unfortunately' because I find pervs to be a major pain. Most guys are perves, in my expierience. Maybe that's why I like the less showy guys? Personally, I've always been a sucker for the gangly, somewhat 'dorky' guy with a great heart and a sense of humor. Dunno why. I just ... like 'em better, I guess.

Speaking of which, I've had my eye on a friend of mine lately. We've been the best of friends for awhile, really, sticking through the terrors of school together and all. Oh well, I really shouldn't get caught up in all that 'romance' and 'dating' crap. After all, Cal has to keep her boyfriend secret; and I know that even if I did find myself a match, I'd have to do the same. For the time being, at least.

Well, that's about it, I guess. It's the wee hours of the morning, and, as usual, the whole idea of 'reflective thinking' is becoming less and less appealing by the second.