Roswell, Wednesday Afternoon, NFB
Mar. 16th, 2006 06:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
izzyalienqueen Isabel didn’t want to deal with Max, didn’t want to face Liz and her accusations that aliens had something to do with Alex’s death. It was easier to go to the Crashdown, easier to lose herself in memories of happier times.
"Isabel, I’ve got great news."
"Oh really?" she asked, surprised. She’d expected a fight after yesterday’s confrontation with Michael.
"I figured out a way we can make this work." Max pulled out a pamphlet and dropped it in front of her.
Eyebrow raised, Isabel studied the brochure. "The Stratford School?"
"I talked to one of their admissions counselors," Max said. "It’s up in Santa Fe. They say it’s wonderful. Best of all, there’s an opening. You could transfer in for the rest of the semester."
"Max, I haven’t even applied there. I don’t want to apply there."
"But that's what the application's for, Iz. It's perfect. You'll only be a few hours away, and I think we can talk mom and dad into getting you a car or something so you can be mobile."
"I don't want to go there, Max," she said as she handed the pamphlet back to him.
"Isabel, you've been indulged in this for too long."
Her temper rose at the patronizing tone in his voice. "Indulged? In planning my future? In wanting a life of my own? Max did you even read any of the recommendations people wrote from me when I applied to Fandom? "Isabel Evans has really enjoyed growing up in Roswell, and as much as she loves her hometown and shows that love through hours of community service, I believe Roswell is just too small to contain the potential of a woman like Isabel Evans." That—that was from Mrs. Seymour at the homeless shelter. That's what she thought about me, and I had dozens, dozens of other recommendations just like it. Do you know why? Because as far as the outside world is concerned, Max, I'm a bright and talented upstanding member of the community of planet earth. I've played the role to perfection. Now, it is my turn."
"Don't make me the bad guy in all this, Isabel."
Isabel got to her feet. "You’re the bad guy in all of this. How could you send Michael to come and talk to me? It's like the alien mafia."
"You can't go back."
"I have news for you, little brother. I'm going back to Fandom. I’ve got friends and I’ve got a life that has nothing to do with Destiny. You can search for all the answers you want. Right now? I’m doing what’s best for me. And that means getting the hell away from here before anyone else gets hurt." She turned and walked away, stopping only when he grabbed her arm.
"Isabel... Isabel, if I have to, I will do everything in my power to keep you here. I will tell our parents you have a drug problem. I will notify your teachers that you have cheated on every test for the last 3 years. If you ever leave Roswell again without my consent, I will physically drag you back. For the last time, the answer is no. Period."
She stared at him, stunned at the threats. "You're killing me."
"You let it get this far."
"Fine, Max. I’ll stay. But if you want to be the leader? See how it works without any followers. Because you may keep me here, but there’s no way I’m following you just because you ordered me to. Destiny be damned." She pulled her arm from his grip and stalked away.
"Ooh, Isabel Evans, you’re even hotter when you’re pissed."
Isabel didn’t pause, recognizing one of Kyle’s football buddies. A flick of her hand and he was thrown out of his chair and onto the floor. She didn’t look back as she continued out the door. Let King Max worry about it.
[OOC: No interaction possible. Scene pulled from the Roswell episode It’s Too Late And Too Bad.]
"Isabel, I’ve got great news."
"Oh really?" she asked, surprised. She’d expected a fight after yesterday’s confrontation with Michael.
"I figured out a way we can make this work." Max pulled out a pamphlet and dropped it in front of her.
Eyebrow raised, Isabel studied the brochure. "The Stratford School?"
"I talked to one of their admissions counselors," Max said. "It’s up in Santa Fe. They say it’s wonderful. Best of all, there’s an opening. You could transfer in for the rest of the semester."
"Max, I haven’t even applied there. I don’t want to apply there."
"But that's what the application's for, Iz. It's perfect. You'll only be a few hours away, and I think we can talk mom and dad into getting you a car or something so you can be mobile."
"I don't want to go there, Max," she said as she handed the pamphlet back to him.
"Isabel, you've been indulged in this for too long."
Her temper rose at the patronizing tone in his voice. "Indulged? In planning my future? In wanting a life of my own? Max did you even read any of the recommendations people wrote from me when I applied to Fandom? "Isabel Evans has really enjoyed growing up in Roswell, and as much as she loves her hometown and shows that love through hours of community service, I believe Roswell is just too small to contain the potential of a woman like Isabel Evans." That—that was from Mrs. Seymour at the homeless shelter. That's what she thought about me, and I had dozens, dozens of other recommendations just like it. Do you know why? Because as far as the outside world is concerned, Max, I'm a bright and talented upstanding member of the community of planet earth. I've played the role to perfection. Now, it is my turn."
"Don't make me the bad guy in all this, Isabel."
Isabel got to her feet. "You’re the bad guy in all of this. How could you send Michael to come and talk to me? It's like the alien mafia."
"You can't go back."
"I have news for you, little brother. I'm going back to Fandom. I’ve got friends and I’ve got a life that has nothing to do with Destiny. You can search for all the answers you want. Right now? I’m doing what’s best for me. And that means getting the hell away from here before anyone else gets hurt." She turned and walked away, stopping only when he grabbed her arm.
"Isabel... Isabel, if I have to, I will do everything in my power to keep you here. I will tell our parents you have a drug problem. I will notify your teachers that you have cheated on every test for the last 3 years. If you ever leave Roswell again without my consent, I will physically drag you back. For the last time, the answer is no. Period."
She stared at him, stunned at the threats. "You're killing me."
"You let it get this far."
"Fine, Max. I’ll stay. But if you want to be the leader? See how it works without any followers. Because you may keep me here, but there’s no way I’m following you just because you ordered me to. Destiny be damned." She pulled her arm from his grip and stalked away.
"Ooh, Isabel Evans, you’re even hotter when you’re pissed."
Isabel didn’t pause, recognizing one of Kyle’s football buddies. A flick of her hand and he was thrown out of his chair and onto the floor. She didn’t look back as she continued out the door. Let King Max worry about it.
[OOC: No interaction possible. Scene pulled from the Roswell episode It’s Too Late And Too Bad.]
