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Post by Very Funky Disco on Jul 17, 2010 10:26:47 GMT -5
"Uh, it takes a real man to cry?" Marty guessed. "I think you do make a good point."
"Yes, I think that's what he meant," replied Artie. "A real man does not concern himself with what how other men view his masculinity." He repressed the urge to not give Marty another lecture about losing control over being called a "chicken".
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jul 18, 2010 9:03:26 GMT -5
"Yes," Jerome clarified. "That's exactly what he meant. He tried to explain this to my father, but he refused to believe it. He's still trying to figure out who I take after more: my grandfather, or my mother. My grandfather didn't do well in school, either, and my mother hates to argue, just like I do. So I guess I resemble both of them, as opposed to one or the other."
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Jul 19, 2010 2:42:17 GMT -5
"So, which side of the family is your grandfather on?" asked Artie. "Well, of course, you have two grandfather - but I mean the one you're talking about."
"I wonder how your father would've gotten along with Grandpa Sam," added Marty. "Of course, he died when I was very young - so I don't even remember him."
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Jul 19, 2010 15:28:01 GMT -5
"The grandfather I'm closest to," Jerome began, "and the one I was just speaking about is my father's father. You'd never know it, though - and I'm not talking about looks. Grandfather Gerald actually looks very much like my father. If you saw pictures of him when he was my age, and pictures of my father at my age, you'd swear they were twins, or the same person. But their personalities are the complete opposite of each other. I shouldn't be saying this, but Grandfather Gerald is so much kinder than my father could ever hope to be, even if he tried. Mother says I get my charm from my grandfather, though I hardly consider myself charming." Jerome blushed, and then continued. "Mother told me in confidence once that if Father hadn't proposed to her, and if Grandfather Gerald hadn't been married and taken an interest in her, then she's sure she would have ended up marrying him instead of Father, despite the dramatic age difference.
"I'm sorry about your grandfather," Jerome added. "I'm sure he would have gotten along with mine. After all, everyone likes him. I had an aunt - my father's younger sister, actually - who died, and even though I only met her a few times, I was still sad when I heard about it. Three years ago she fell out of a tree while trying to help a baby crow back into its nest after it fell out. My grandfather calls it 'cruel irony'. He's been in failing health ever since. My parents say it won't be that much longer until...well, you know."
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Aug 2, 2010 14:07:35 GMT -5
"I'm so sorry to hear about that," Marty replied, sympathetically. "we're very close to our Grandma Stella. I have no idea what I'd do, if she ever passed away."
"Same here," Artie confirmed. "By the way, I wonder how your father grew to become so... so disagreeable... if he had a loving and kind father."
OOC: In case you're wondering, Stella dies in the year 2000 or 2001 (I forgot which it was) - which pushes Marty into heavy drinking, for a couple years. Those are about the darkest years of his life.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 2, 2010 17:52:50 GMT -5
"Thank you," said Jerome, and smiled at the twins in return for their sympathy. "I've only known for a couple of years, but from what my mother has told me, the reason for my father's behavior has to do with an event in his childhood. Many years ago, when he was just six years old, his parents separated for a short time. In that time, Grandfather Gerald hired a nanny, just someone to keep my father from getting too lonely while my grandfather was away at the office. The woman he hired was a former ballet dancer named Sylvie, who was forced to retire from the profession following an injury that left her unable to perform. My father instantly adored her - more than his own mother, as a matter of fact. Sylvie was young - nearly twenty years younger than my grandfather, who more than just liked her. He was in love with her, even though he was still married to my Grandmother Charlotte. Sylvie felt the same way about him - despite the vast difference in their ages; she was twenty-three, and himself forty-eight - and treated my father the way she would her own child. My father even called her 'Mommy' once, when my grandmother came to visit him, which I imagine she didn't respond all that well to. But she still insisted that divorce was the only option, and my grandfather wasn't going to argue. Less than ever now, as he planned to marry Sylvie as soon as the divorce was declared final. "And then, something unexpected happened. My grandmother wrote to my grandfather, informing him that she had changed her mind, and that she no longer wanted to divorce him. Of course, he had made other lifelong plans, and, at first, he was adamant to take her back. But then, she threatened to take my father far, far away, without the possibility of ever letting her husband see him again. Realizing he had no choice in the matter, my grandfather agreed to his wife's demand, and - as much as it pained him - broke off his engagement with Sylvie. Of course, this not only devastated him and Sylvie, but my father as well. And, ever since then, my father has gone through life hating my grandfather. It was just until recently, though, that my father discovered that it wasn't Grandfather Gerald responsible for Sylvie's departure as much as it was Grandmother Charlotte's. The fact that he was just trying to shield his wife from enduring the same treatment from my father as he was just proves how noble my grandfather is. "Unfortunately, now my father is no longer speaking to either of his parents. My mother keeps pushing him to make amends, before it's too late, but he refuses. He's always been the stubborn type, and the more you push him, the less he is to listen to anything you have to say, no matter how beneficial." This was the most Jerome had ever said at one time - and without one single stutter! It saddened him that it was such a gloomy subject, but still he couldn't help but be proud of himself. Perhaps he would be able to get through that oral report in English after all. OOC: Poor Marty! I never imagined him being anything less than cheerful (not including the times he listens to Over the Hills and Far Away, of course). It's a good thing his drinking only lasted a couple of years, or else it could have led to something very tragic. By the way, the explanation about how Maxwell came to be the way he is was an idea I came up with a couple of months ago. I figured this scene would make for the perfect opportunity to reveal it.
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Aug 2, 2010 18:02:06 GMT -5
"Wow! That is one messed up childhood," Marty replied, stunned. Then, realizing something, he added, "Y'know, that was very eloquent. Say, have you decided on a subject for your report?"
"It's hard to know who to blame," added Artie. "I understand the feelings of everyone in the equation. So, uh, how often do you see your grandparents?"
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 2, 2010 18:40:34 GMT -5
Jerome smiled at Marty's comment, feeling a little spark of pride light up inside him. "I think I'm going to do my report on the history of cupcakes. They're my specialty, so I'll be able to work in a paragraph or two of personal experience. That should help to stretch it out a bit, right?
"I used to spend a lot of time at my grandparents' when I was younger," Jerome went on. "My grandfather has always been the one I've turned to in a crisis, or when I need advice on something. He understands what it's like being shy, and not wanting to argue, because he was the same way. But, most of all, he accepts me for who I am - unlike my father. And while my grandmother isn't the friendliest person in the world, she isn't hateful or mean. Sometimes I think I even like her better than my father."
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Aug 19, 2010 14:52:45 GMT -5
"Well, I'm glad that you have sometime to turn to," Artie replied, smiling. "I think it's a good idea, doing your report on cupcakes."
"So, Jerome, do you want to practice a little with us?" asked Marty.
OOC: Should we do a scene skip, soon? Okay, we have two tasks to take care of. Jerome needs the courage to give his report in front on the whole class, and Marty needs the courage to do a performance of Over the Hills and Far Away. I won't give Artie, anything.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Aug 20, 2010 9:07:04 GMT -5
"S-sure," said Jerome. "The idea came to me earlier, so I wrote it down. As of right now, it's nothing beyond the first paragraph, but I think I've gotten a general idea of the direction it's headed in." From his shirt pocket, he retrieved his reading glasses and a slip of paper. He put on his glasses and then unfolded the paper. As he began to read what he'd written, he could feel his voice starting to tremble and his face grow hot. He knew he was with friends, and he knew they weren't going to make fun of him. But just thinking of how he'd feel once he was standing at the front of the class was enough to call upon his anxiety. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and then started over. He could do this. It was just a question of overcoming his fear of public speaking - at least temporarily. If he could do that, then he could get through it and hopefully never have to deliver a speech to an audience again. "Cupcakes," he read, "by Jerome Squalor. Cupcakes first appeared in the United States sometime during the 19th century. The reason they were so popular was because they took less time to prepare than cakes. Although no one is sure where the name derives from, people believe these desserts are called cupcakes because they were either cooked in cups, or because the ingredients were determined with the use of cups."OOC: Yeah, that's a good idea. Do you want to go ahead and do the scene with Doc showing Marty and Artie his time machine, while I cover Jerome going to pick up Esmé for their date and rescuing her from Olaf, and afterward everyone meets up at Doc's mansion? (Cupcake info taken from All About Cupcakes.)
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Mar 12, 2011 23:02:25 GMT -5
"That was great, Jerome!" Marty replied, admiringly.
"Yeah, you did awesome," Artie agreed. "I think it is an interesting subject."
"Right," Marty replied, nodding. "We could go over this, and I could help you to become less nervous."
OOC: Sure, that might be a good idea. I suppose, when Jerome and Esme show up, Doc says to bring them along. We should maybe use a station wagon, since there is no way to fit five people in a DeLorean - and especially if Einstein come along. Since there was no "Calvin Klein" in 1955 - Doc decides that he would need a vehicle to fit, at least, three people. Oh, yeah, what to do about the Libyan terrorists?
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 13, 2011 16:42:46 GMT -5
(I’m sorry; I got a bit carried away with the length of this. I figure I can come back to it later, after you’ve done your part with Doc and the twins. All the more better to work up the suspense, right? ) “Gee, thanks,” said Jerome, blushing at the compliments and general support of his friends. “That’s very kind of you.” When the trio departed the diner and turned to go their separate ways (himself in one direction and Marty and Artie in the other), Jerome had the strong impression that he was changing for the better. So why did he feel so scared about it? ~ October 26th had arrived, and with it came the afternoon of Jerome’s big date with Esmé. It was to be his very first date, and, from what he had gathered, hers too. Although evening was the preferred hour for couples to “hit the town” (a phrase coined by Marty), Jerome was not picky. Esmé had explained over the phone when she had called the night before that her guardian was insistent that her weekend evenings be spent expressly at home. Jerome hadn’t been able to ignore the way Esmé had kept her voice considerably low while disclosing this information, as if Olaf were listening in on their conversation. “If I’m not home by exactly six o’clock to start dinner, then there’ll be hell to pay. His words, not mine,” Esmé added, as if she felt the uncouthness in her words had offended Jerome. But it hadn’t. “Don’t worry,” he assured. “We’ll only be six blocks from your house, and I promise to have you home long before six.” Esmé had gone on to inquire about what the “surprise” Jerome seemed so adamant to tell her was. Just as he had when she’d first called, he laughed and said, “That, my dear, is a secret that will not be divulged until tomorrow at precisely one o’clock.” It was then Esmé’s turn to laugh, as well as comment on Jerome’s traditional way with words. He would have loved more than anything to talk with her more, even if it would mean having a shorter list of topics to discuss on their date. But a raspy voice had shouted at Esmé that its owner was hungry and to get off the phone. Before Jerome could ask what was wrong, Esmé had declared a hasty goodbye, followed by a click as she hung up the phone. The bus had dropped Jerome off just three blocks from Esmé’s house. She had given him directions during their first telephone conversation together, which had occurred five nights ago. He was relieved to see that the name of the nearby street sign matched the name of Esmé’s road on the paper in his hand. He continued on his way, pleased that he had managed to take direction so sufficiently, for he had yet to get himself lost. He was standing across the street when he came to a run-down old house, with what appeared to be a high tower rising up from the back yard. He waited for the traffic to slow, and then crossed nervously over to the opposite side of the street. This couldn’t be where Esmé lived, could it? The house itself was in very bad shape, which Jerome could tell from the paint that peeled away from the corners. He climbed the steps, which creaked under his weight, and paused before the front door. He knocked once and waited. When no one came to answer, he tried again. Nothing. He attempted a third knock. Upon receiving no indication that anyone had heard him, he worked up the nerve to do something he had never done before. He entered the house invited. He had not been standing in the doorway for more than a few seconds, when the sound of loud arguing filled his ears. One of the voices he recognized was that of the man whom he had overheard on the phone the other night. The second voice was unquestionably that of Esmé, whose tone suggested distress. Summoning up every bit of courage he had within him, Jerome went to find out exactly what was going on. OOC: Okay, great! So I guess we will leave Jerome’s speech for the big finale, then. I know next to nothing about automobiles and such, but I can agree that we should bring in the station wagon - especially if Einstein is going to tag along. I can’t recall the scene with the Libyan terrorists, but I’ll see if someone uploaded a clip on Youtube and try to get some ideas.
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Mar 13, 2011 17:09:22 GMT -5
OOC: True that! This next part will be fairly easy to do, since I've novelized the scene quite a few times. I just have to decide when Jerome and Esme show up. Also, to answer your other question, Marty and Artie do not yet know about the VFD.
"What do you think Doc has up his sleeve, this time?" Artie asked, with curiosity.
"I have not a clue," Marty replied, shrugging. "Obviously, it was something important enough for us to meet him at Twin Pines Mall at 1:15 in the morning. Also, I wonder if this might explain why we haven't seen Doc in a week."
"I just hope we don't get in trouble for this," Artie replied, nervously. "I mean, Mom and Dad are usually pretty easy-going - but I don't think they'd be too happy about us sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night."
"Yeah, I know what you mean," Marty agreed, nodding. "I have Doc's camcorder, right here - and we are almost at the mall."
"Are you going to tell Doc about the amp?" Artie asked, quietly.
"Oh, thanks for reminding me about it," Marty groaned. "He got that for me as a gift. How was I supposed to know about the possibility of an overload? Doc warned me too late."
"Well, I'm sure he'll understand," Artie assured Marty, patting his twin's back. "Well, here we are."
"I see that his white step-van is here," Marty replied, with a feeling of relief. Then, noticing the sheepdog, he added, "And Einstein is here!" Running up to the sheepdog, he patted the dog - and called out, "Einstein! Hey, Einstein! Where's the Doc, boy - huh?"
The doors of the van then opened, and smoke came out of it. Then a station wagon came reversing out of the van, onto the parking lot. It had a licence plate that read 'OUTATIME'. Doc then stepped out of the car, wearing a white radiation suit.
"Doc?" asked Marty, as he saw his elderly friend.
"Boys, you made it," exclaimed Doc, as he reached out to hug Marty, then Artie. "Welcome to my latest experiment. It's the one I've been waiting for all my life."
"Um, well, it's a station wagon - right?" Marty asked, confused.
"Bear with me, Marty," said Doc. "All of your questions will be answered. Roll tape..."
"Okay," Marty said, as he got out the video camera.
"... and we'll proceed," finished Doc.
"Doc, is that a de..." Marty started to ask.
"Never mind that, now," replied Doc. "Never mind that, now."
"All right, I'm ready," said Marty, as he began to film Doc.
"Good evening," Doc said, into the video camera. "I'm Dr. Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot of Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26, 1985, 1:18 AM - and this is temporal experiment number one. C'mon, Einie." Doc then urged the sheepdog to step into the station wagon. "Hey, hey, boy! Get in there! That a boy! In you go! Sit down! Put your seat belt on! That's it!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Marty said, stunned. "Okay."
"So what are you doing, Doc?" Artie asked, stunned.
"Please note that Einstein's clock is in complete synchronization with my control watch," explained Doc. "Got it?" Both clocks just switched over to 1:19.
"Right, check, Doc," replied Marty.
"Yeah, I got it," agreed Artie.
"Good," replied Doc. "Have a good trip, Einstein. Watch your head."
Doc then shut the car door, and he got out a remote control for the car.
"You have this thing hooked up to the... car?" Marty asked, confused.
"Watch this," Doc instructed.
"Yeah, okay, got it," replied Marty.
"All right, then," added Artie.
As Marty started to film the car, the car began to drive itself - as it was being controlled by the remote.
"Jesus!" exclaimed Marty, as he turned to Doc, inadvertently filming him.
"Not me!" shouted Doc, "The car! The car!" As Marty began to film the car, Doc continued, "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious Michigan! Watch this! Watch this!" Doc then let go of the lever, as the car headed towards him and Marty. Then, as it hit 88 miles per hour, it let off a blue glow and disappeared, leaving behind two fire trails - which had almost hit the feet of Marty, Artie, and Doc. The licence plate then fell off the car and spun around on the ground. Doc then started screaming, "Ha, what did I tell you? 88 miles per hour! The temporal displacement occurred at exactly 1:20 AM and zero seconds!"
Marty then picked up the licence plate, and gasped, "Hot! Jesus Christ, Doc! Jesus Christ, Doc! You disintegrated Einstein!"
"Calm down, Marty," said Doc. "I didn't disintegrate anything. The molecular structure of both Einstein and the car are completely intact."
"Then where the hell are they?" shrieked Marty. As he glanced to his right, he saw Jerome and Esme heading towards them. "Oh, Michigan!"
"The appropriate question is, when the hell are they!" explained Doc, not seeming to notice Jerome and Esme. "You see, Einstein has just become the world's first time traveller! I sent him into the future. One minute into the future to be exact. And at precisely 1:21 AM and zero seconds, we shall catch up with him and the time machine."
OOC: Remember, they can't say too much - until the car re-appears.
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Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Mar 15, 2011 12:59:59 GMT -5
OOC: Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind during this next part. Awesome post, btw. Reading it was just like watching BTTF, and I loved how Doc told Einie to put his seatbelt on. XD ~ Jerome had not released his grip on Esmé ever since their escape together from Olaf’s house. The image of that terrible man as he’d been about to strike the sweet young girl had burned itself into Jerome’s memory. All Jerome could remember between the times he had burst into the kitchen to when Esmé had come running to him were Olaf’s bloodcurdling shouts and shrieks. The teenagers’ only means of escape from such villainous clutches had come about as they’d waited anxiously for traffic to clear. Once it had they’d dashed across the street, grateful when the appearance of a large delivery truck made it impossible for Olaf to follow them. Jerome and Esmé had bolted it to the bus station and boarded the first trip back to Hill Valley. Even as the bus had driven them further and further away from San Francisco, they were fearful of what would happen when Olaf finally caught up to them. Jerome and Esmé had been on their way to a twenty-four-hour diner near the Twin Pines Mall, when they spotted Marty, Artie, and Doc. Jerome figured that if there were three people in the world who could help him and Esmé, then it would be his newfound friends. “Hey, guys,” Jerome said, as he and Esmé slowed to a halt. “Fancy meeting you three here at”—he paused to consult his watch—“one-twenty in the morning.” “I didn’t expect to run into you again so soon,” Esmé said to the twins, “or so abruptly. What’s going on?”
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Post by Very Funky Disco on Mar 15, 2011 13:22:19 GMT -5
Doc's clock than started to beep. "Quick, you guys! Get back!" Doc instructed, as he and the four teens stepped back - just in time for the station wagon to reappear on the parking lot. Doc walked over to touch it.
All four teens looked on, as they looked astonished.
"What? What?" asked Marty. "Is it hot?"
"It's cold - damn cold," replied Doc. Then he opened the door, and said, "Ha, ha, ha, Einstein! You little devil!" Then, turning to the teens, Doc explained, "Einstein's clock is exactly one minute behind mine. It's still ticking."
Doc's clock had switched over to 1:22 AM, while Einstein's clock had switched over to 1:21 AM. Doc then unbuckled Einstein's seat belt, as Einstein ran happily into the van.
"He's all right," Marty breathed, when he saw that Einstein was unharmed from his trip through time.
"I must be dreaming," added Artie, stunned.
"He's fine," assured Doc, "and he's completely unaware that anything happened. As far as he's concerned, the trip was instantaneous. That's why Einstein's watch is exactly one minute behind mine. He skipped over that minute to instantly arrive at this moment in time. Come here, I'll show you how it works. First, you turn the time circuits on." Doc did just that, as the teens watched. Inside were three panels, each with a different LED display. "This readout tells you where you're going, this one tells you where you are, this one tells you where you were. You input the destination time on this keypad. Say, you wanna see the signing of the Declaration of Independence..." Doc typed in July 4, 1776. "... or witness the birth of Christ." Doc typed in December 25, 0000. "Here's a red-letter date in the history of science, November 5, 1955." Then Doc gasped, "Yes, of course! November 5, 1955!"
"What?" asked Marty, confused. "I don't get what happened."
Artie just glanced at Esme and Jerome, who still seemed to be in shock. Doc seemed to be too caught up in the moment to acknowledge them.
"That was the day I invented time travel," Doc explained. "I remember it vividly. I was standing on the edge of my toilet hanging a clock, the porcelain was wet, I slipped, hit my head on the edge of the sink. And, when I came to, I had a revelation - a picture, a picture in my head, a picture of this." He showed the teens the y-shaped device that was inside the car. "This is what makes time travel possible. The flux capacitor."
"The flux capacitor," Marty said, confused.
"Uh, Doc," Artie interjected, gesturing towards Jerome and Esme.
"It's taken me almost 30 years and my entire family fortune to realize the vision of that day," continued Doc. "My God, has it been that long? Things have certainly changed around here. I remember when this was all farmland as far as the eye could see. Old Man Peabody, owned all of this. He had this crazy idea about breeding pine trees."
"This is, uh... This is heavy duty, Doc," commented Marty. "This is great. Uh, does it run on regular unleaded gasoline?"
"Unfortunately, no," replied Doc, "it requires something with a little more kick - plutonium!"
OOC: Hope you don't mind not having Jerome and Esme speak for awhile. It seems to suit their characters, and we don't want this scene to drag on for too long. Also, because Doc doesn't have radiation suits for everyone - he'll just have the teens get into the step-van, while he reloads the car.
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