(I don't really want to do too many of these as they are, very much, Cleolinda's thing. But it's been a while since she updated and I had an urge so.... yeah...)
Oh man, where do I even begin with the drama?
When last we left the dynamic duo, Edward Sparklepants Cullen had been grounded and was back in his box while I removed anything flammable from McCoy's reach. It was not surprising at all that Edward and McCoy would not get along - those two don't get along with anyone in canon, why would I expect different in real life? Because I am an eternal optimist that really really wants things to go well, that's why.
Yeah, I'm an idiot.
So, Christmas was a bad season here in the Heroine household. Lots of new toys, no time to mess with the old one. Most of my stuff is still packed from my not-move back in October, but I have a half dozen dolls and whatnot who are mostly capable of keeping themselves occupied. McCoy has spent most of the winter engaging in outside adventures; once I swear I saw him riding a squirrel across the snow like it was a Taun-Taun. He took a lot of shit for that from me. Mostly because how do you explain that to the neighbors?
Edward... let's just say that Edward is so far up Shit Creek by the time I'm writing this that I've considered setting him on fire myself. It all started one Thursday afternoon about three weeks ago....
"He's eating my squirrels."
I put down my pencil. Even crazy is a welcome break from Calculus. "Who is doing what in with the what now?"
"Sparklepants, he's been eating my squirrels."
"Your squirrels? And how do you know this?" Oh my god... "Do we have vampire squirrels? Tell me we don't have vampire squirrels." I went and threw the door open, "DOG! Get in here now."
"No, he's not turning them, but haven't you noticed there are less of them about?"
What does less squirrels look like? They still seemed to be everywhere, but McCoy wasn't prone to carrying tales... well, there was the one time Boromir got into it with Snape but that was ages ago. Three whole months at least.
"I'll talk with him."
Easier said than done. Edward no longer spent much time in the bedroom, or the study for that matter. Even a 104 year old virgin knows when he is not wanted. Or maybe, especially a 104 year old virgin knows when he is not wanted. I found him that night, perched in a hanging planter outside.
"Watching for rabbits."
"Rabbits? Why are you-" I stopped, I knew the answer. I neither needed nor wanted to hear it from him. He obliged me anyway.
"They are fluffy and delicious, like kittens with big puffy tails."
"The hell man? When did you eat a kitten?"
His butter-amber-golden-topaz eyes met mine, "Do you really want to know?"
No. In fact. I really don't. I don't want to know any of this. "Have you been eating McCoy's squirrels?"
"Stop it. Leave the squirrels in our yard alone. In fact, leave the squirrels for the next three or four houses alone. Actually, no squirrels. No rabbits. There are some mice out in the shed, eat those."
He pouted. "You understand that that's no fun at all?"
"I don't care. You're pissing McCoy off and I like him better than you." Yeah, I know, it was a terrible thing to say but you haven't been here, you have no idea what he's been like these past few months.
Tangential to all of this, let me bring you up to date on some other things. For Christmas, as a sort of impulse present for myself from Entertainment Earth, I got a mini-bust of Samwise Gamgee in his orc armor as well as a couple of other Black Friday deal things. Come on, they were like 80% off! I am the reason stores have sales, I really am. Anyway, Sam has been sitting on the edge of my desk, helping me with my homeworks and in general being a voice of reason in my ever maddening world.
"He only wants yer love, Mistress Heroine."
"Well if he quits killing small, adorable animals I'd like him quite well."
The next few days went by in a blur of snow and tests, Valentine's came and went... all seemed to be going well. I was in the bedroom, reading a book Jessica sent me (I love you.) and generally trying to veg out a bit after my hard week.
Have you ever heard a horse scream? A pony? It is the most terrifying and heart-rending noise you could ever imagine. Now imagine it on the tiniest and most adorable scale your mind can comprehend.
I flew from my repose, gentle reader, but I didn't know where to go. The noise could have come from anywhere. I glanced about helplessly until I heard a muttering voice: "What have I done? Like candy? Delicious wrong candy? Melted in my mouth... what have I done?"
"Edward. He ate Moonshine. Tore into her like she was a nothing."
"Like a bag of skittles, sweet sweet skittles. Oh god, oh god."
Well he was going to be useless. I knelt down next to McCoy where he had set up a triage table with Moonshine on it. "Is she...?"
I sat back and groaned. Moonshine was a gorgeous, bright pony with her whole life ahead of her. "Can't you- can't you do anything for her?"
"I'm a doctor, not a tinker. Whatever it was that made her... alive is gone now." He stood up, grabbing his phaser and I knew what was going to come next. I grabbed Edward quickly and went back to the bedroom.
I shut the door and set him on the bed. "What is the matter with you?"
"So hungry. Can't eat squirrels. Can't eat rabbits. Mice all gone... what to eat. Pretty pony, prancing pony. Tastes like rainbows..."
You are kidding me right? This is my fault? I didn't know! I swear it. I mean, yeah I knew mice were small and that after a while they'd probably run out - but I figured he'd come back and, I don't know, tell me when this happened. We would have found something for him. Maybe I'd have let up my squirrel ban.
Edward was in no condition to speak for himself, and not knowing what else to do I wrapped him back up in his box. We discovered last time this puts him into a kind of sleep mode. I went back into the study.
"You should just get rid of him. He's a damn menace."
"I know," I said, sitting down on the floor near the remains of poor Moonshine. "I know."
That happened last weekend, Edward has been in the closet since then (I'm resiting the urge to make an "In the closet" joke because these are grief-filled and trying times) awaiting my final decision on his fate. I think I might have to put him in his box for good. I don't know what else to do, honestly. McCoy keeps threatening to rip his head off and.... SWEET MARY MOTHER OF GOD.
Oh Jesus, a Vampony? Really? Is this what my life has come to? Red-eyed, tiny-fanged vamponies?
I don't even... I can't... I'm going to just go be elsewhere for awhile, okay?