such a pretty house and such a pretty garden ;
WHO || truthsubtitles & orconstitution
WHAT || Jason's traveling to ~find himself~. Dakota thinks bitches lie to everyone.
WHERE || {insert smallish city name here}, Arizona.
WHEN || November.
HOW || Prose;; There'll also be some movie quoting, then first person magic/setting up to work with the verse itself, then magical exposition at the beginning. It's a complicated life.
DISCLAIMER || the italicized section(S) at the beginning is directly quoting from the movie. everything under the first cut is an explanation of how her life happened. what's not in italics is what wasn't explain in story format in the film, put into a first person format. it's not my material, but they're my words. the second section is the more recent buildup in her life, where italicized, is also directly quoted from the movie. the rest, which isn't italicized, is again an explanation that's put into my own words but material from the movie. everything from the third and fourth cuts is completely my writing. cuts are separated by HR lines. i don't claim to own the material that has been explained above or italicized.
in responses, if dakota is lied to, the truth will be separated from other paragraphs and made bold
"My name is Dakota Skye. I'm eighteen years old, only medium cute, and I have... a superpower. I can't fly, I can't turn invisible, and I'm pretty sure that a bullet would make me good and dead. I don't have x-ray vision, either. Well... Not exactly. The fact is, I am incapable of being lied to. When someone tells a lie, any lie, to me? To anyone? I know the truth. What they really mean, so... There are no lies in my world. Or nothing but. It's kinda hard to explain.
It's like movies from other countries. Somebody says something in French, like "voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir", and ... at the bottom of the screen it says...
I dunno what it says. I flunked French.
But I've been this way since... I guess, since I was little."
See, my dad was in a Santa costume. I was like... five. I asked him who he was - and he lied to me. I got pretty upset. Even teachers lied. Then, when I was older, he was dying - I asked my mom at the hospital if he'd be okay? She told me he'd be fine. She meant that he was going to die soon.
And, sophomore year, when Jacob Barrow told me that he loved me... Well? I let him take my virginity anyway. It had to go some time. And to the best of my knowledge, I've never been bitten by a radioactive spider, or been dosed with an overabundance of gamma rays - ... whatever those are. I have no explanation. I'm just involuntarily cursed with the truth. Something people spend their entire lives looking for. Lucky me.
But in order to make sense of everything from here on out? I'll need to tell you a story. And this is a story about a different Dakota Skye.
This Dakota Skye is only seventeen. See, I'm dating this guy. His name's Kevin. Sometimes he says things - like that Jacob, y'know that boy I lost my virginity to, doesn't hate me. When I know he does. And he tells me he loves me when we have sex. But really? He just means he loves sex.
Kevin is a liar, but no more than anybody else. Certainly no more than me. I hate Kevin less than almost anybody, and his looks don't make me vomit, so he's my boyfriend. And he's talented, and a nice guy, and we have fun. And the first couple of times he told me he loved me, he meant it. Or at least, he thought he did. And if he ever cheats on me, well... I'll know.
Junior year is almost over and everyone, all my friends, all the teachers, all they talk about is the future. About college and careers and all that shit? I have never been able to think that far. Beth? Is the worst of it. I think she's got the next twenty-five years of her life planned out by the hour. I don't even think she likes me anymore. Well, being me, I know she doesn't like me anymore.
Why should she? I'm bitchy, sad, and angry, and distant all the time. I'm not even sure I like me anymore. We're friends because we have been for the better part of the last twelve years. No other reason. We are because we are.
So year, after year, lie after lie, it's all been building inside my head like a snowball. I used to be able to keep it in check. When it was my folks and teachers, it seemed okay. Then boys, and sex came into the picture, and it was boys, and more lies, sex, and more lies.
I go through weeks at a time praying that someone will say what they actually mean for once.
Like I said, it's kinda hard to explain.
My friends just keep fucking pressuring me about the SATs. It's bullshit. I'm getting more and more sick of it by the minute. I don't think they get the fact that I really don't care. My mom's never around, either. She leaves all the time and goes to L.A. Leaves money in the goddamn cookie jar.
I read tabloids for fun. Funny thing about my little superpower? It even works on people on TV. And reading news articles. Weird, but true.
Anyway.
I don't drive, either. I don't care enough to, and I've never had to. I've always got a ride somewhere. So, I never learned. And I can't really be fucking bothered to, either. So... that's that. And this is where you come in.
For the first time in years, Dakota didn't have a ride to get where she was going. It wasn't that big of a deal, since she was just walking home from school, but it was a long damn walk. She was annoyed, already ruffled because of Beth constantly breathing down her neck about the fucking standardized tests that the goddamn government shoved down United States students' throats - and on top of that? Kevin was pissing her off lately. Everything he did annoyed her more than usual. She didn't really get it, but it was happening anyway.
She shoved her books in a backpack without a care in the world, griped under her breath about Beth bailing on her just because she didn't want to come over and study, and started out. It was gonna be a good hour or so before she got home. Not insanely long, but it was fucking hot outside. She stopped at a gas station and bought a bottle of water so she didn't keel over and die on her stupidly long journey.
Eventually, Dakota ran out of sidewalk. She had to settle for walking at the side of the road, dodging cars whenever they showed up (which wasn't often, since the buzzing part of town was in the opposite direction) by stepping down and walking in the ditch. "God dammit, my shoes are gonna stink," she muttered. But she didn't really have any other choice. It was that, or get hit.
Not exactly the most stellar options in the world. She would've killed for a cigarette right then. But, she was out, and didn't have a lighter on her anyway. Walking, walking, and more walking - that was pretty much the only thing she was looking at for the moment. She was tired, and hot. She tried to look on the bright side: at least nobody was lying to her or trying to get her to study. And Dakota was so lost in these random fucking thoughts that she didn't hear or see any sign of, the next car coming up.
What a fucking day.
WHAT || Jason's traveling to ~find himself~. Dakota thinks bitches lie to everyone.
WHERE || {insert smallish city name here}, Arizona.
WHEN || November.
HOW || Prose;; There'll also be some movie quoting, then first person magic/setting up to work with the verse itself, then magical exposition at the beginning. It's a complicated life.
DISCLAIMER || the italicized section(S) at the beginning is directly quoting from the movie. everything under the first cut is an explanation of how her life happened. what's not in italics is what wasn't explain in story format in the film, put into a first person format. it's not my material, but they're my words. the second section is the more recent buildup in her life, where italicized, is also directly quoted from the movie. the rest, which isn't italicized, is again an explanation that's put into my own words but material from the movie. everything from the third and fourth cuts is completely my writing. cuts are separated by HR lines. i don't claim to own the material that has been explained above or italicized.
in responses, if dakota is lied to, the truth will be separated from other paragraphs and made bold
"My name is Dakota Skye. I'm eighteen years old, only medium cute, and I have... a superpower. I can't fly, I can't turn invisible, and I'm pretty sure that a bullet would make me good and dead. I don't have x-ray vision, either. Well... Not exactly. The fact is, I am incapable of being lied to. When someone tells a lie, any lie, to me? To anyone? I know the truth. What they really mean, so... There are no lies in my world. Or nothing but. It's kinda hard to explain.
It's like movies from other countries. Somebody says something in French, like "voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir", and ... at the bottom of the screen it says...
I dunno what it says. I flunked French.
But I've been this way since... I guess, since I was little."
See, my dad was in a Santa costume. I was like... five. I asked him who he was - and he lied to me. I got pretty upset. Even teachers lied. Then, when I was older, he was dying - I asked my mom at the hospital if he'd be okay? She told me he'd be fine. She meant that he was going to die soon.
And, sophomore year, when Jacob Barrow told me that he loved me... Well? I let him take my virginity anyway. It had to go some time. And to the best of my knowledge, I've never been bitten by a radioactive spider, or been dosed with an overabundance of gamma rays - ... whatever those are. I have no explanation. I'm just involuntarily cursed with the truth. Something people spend their entire lives looking for. Lucky me.
But in order to make sense of everything from here on out? I'll need to tell you a story. And this is a story about a different Dakota Skye.
This Dakota Skye is only seventeen. See, I'm dating this guy. His name's Kevin. Sometimes he says things - like that Jacob, y'know that boy I lost my virginity to, doesn't hate me. When I know he does. And he tells me he loves me when we have sex. But really? He just means he loves sex.
Kevin is a liar, but no more than anybody else. Certainly no more than me. I hate Kevin less than almost anybody, and his looks don't make me vomit, so he's my boyfriend. And he's talented, and a nice guy, and we have fun. And the first couple of times he told me he loved me, he meant it. Or at least, he thought he did. And if he ever cheats on me, well... I'll know.
Junior year is almost over and everyone, all my friends, all the teachers, all they talk about is the future. About college and careers and all that shit? I have never been able to think that far. Beth? Is the worst of it. I think she's got the next twenty-five years of her life planned out by the hour. I don't even think she likes me anymore. Well, being me, I know she doesn't like me anymore.
Why should she? I'm bitchy, sad, and angry, and distant all the time. I'm not even sure I like me anymore. We're friends because we have been for the better part of the last twelve years. No other reason. We are because we are.
So year, after year, lie after lie, it's all been building inside my head like a snowball. I used to be able to keep it in check. When it was my folks and teachers, it seemed okay. Then boys, and sex came into the picture, and it was boys, and more lies, sex, and more lies.
I go through weeks at a time praying that someone will say what they actually mean for once.
Like I said, it's kinda hard to explain.
My friends just keep fucking pressuring me about the SATs. It's bullshit. I'm getting more and more sick of it by the minute. I don't think they get the fact that I really don't care. My mom's never around, either. She leaves all the time and goes to L.A. Leaves money in the goddamn cookie jar.
I read tabloids for fun. Funny thing about my little superpower? It even works on people on TV. And reading news articles. Weird, but true.
Anyway.
I don't drive, either. I don't care enough to, and I've never had to. I've always got a ride somewhere. So, I never learned. And I can't really be fucking bothered to, either. So... that's that. And this is where you come in.
For the first time in years, Dakota didn't have a ride to get where she was going. It wasn't that big of a deal, since she was just walking home from school, but it was a long damn walk. She was annoyed, already ruffled because of Beth constantly breathing down her neck about the fucking standardized tests that the goddamn government shoved down United States students' throats - and on top of that? Kevin was pissing her off lately. Everything he did annoyed her more than usual. She didn't really get it, but it was happening anyway.
She shoved her books in a backpack without a care in the world, griped under her breath about Beth bailing on her just because she didn't want to come over and study, and started out. It was gonna be a good hour or so before she got home. Not insanely long, but it was fucking hot outside. She stopped at a gas station and bought a bottle of water so she didn't keel over and die on her stupidly long journey.
Eventually, Dakota ran out of sidewalk. She had to settle for walking at the side of the road, dodging cars whenever they showed up (which wasn't often, since the buzzing part of town was in the opposite direction) by stepping down and walking in the ditch. "God dammit, my shoes are gonna stink," she muttered. But she didn't really have any other choice. It was that, or get hit.
Not exactly the most stellar options in the world. She would've killed for a cigarette right then. But, she was out, and didn't have a lighter on her anyway. Walking, walking, and more walking - that was pretty much the only thing she was looking at for the moment. She was tired, and hot. She tried to look on the bright side: at least nobody was lying to her or trying to get her to study. And Dakota was so lost in these random fucking thoughts that she didn't hear or see any sign of, the next car coming up.
What a fucking day.