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comanchero
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Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
This is a brandnew story, with a twist. Here's how it works:
Every chapter consists of two parts, the first one from my own character's POV, the other one from Orli's POV, about the same time and event. Dialogs are the same. So you can either read just one POV or both and still get the same story. Kind of.
Anyway, enjoy!
Last edited by comanchero, 4/Dec/2007, 5:07
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4/Dec/2007, 5:04
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comanchero
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
Chapter 1a:
Lost and found.
Charlie’s POV
“Tessie? Tessie!”
This is great. This is just abso-****ing-lutely great.
Here I am, in the middle of a jam-packed World Disney World, Florida, with three equally cavity-evoking theme songs fighting for dominance in my head, a nasty sunburn starting to peel away the skin of my nose, my stomach churning from the world’s most disgusting hotdog I have eaten before getting into Splash Mountain (not smart), where I proceeded to being soaked down to my underwear in a top that’s more see through than the saleslady had promised. Bet she never takes her under-aged family members to a crowded bubbling theme-park.
And to top if off, I have lost track of my six-year old niece after a grand total of ninety-two seconds since we got off this freakin’ ride. Must be a record, even for me.
Someone just shoot me. Please? Or else just tell me if FedEx delivers Tylenol by truck-loads.
And where the heck is that brat of a niece?
Don’t get me wrong…I love her to pieces. After my kid sister got herself pregnant at seventeen and consequently sent the alleged father running halfway across the country to avoid any responsibility, she relied solely on me for guidance, food and a roof over her head. Since our mother had died when I was ten and Lucia just four years old we were left with just our father, who had gladly left us with numerous nannies, teachers, aunties and one step mom. He now lives with his new wife somewhere in Tokyo and we see him once in a blue moon. Took me a lot of wasted years to be able to forgive him for bailing out on us.
So yes, there was only me, twenty-three years old and hardly self-sufficient at that time, just another junior editor to a women’s magazine, to look after her. And me, the level-headed older sister, took foolish and scared little Lucia in and took care of her from her less than modal income. We managed with the help of friendly neighbors and stuff from the Salvation Army mostly. We got an almost complete set of baby-furniture, lots of clothes and toys and a stroller. Lucia loathed all the second-hand stuff, but I made her accept it. I could not afford all new things and even if I could, I wouldn’t have. Though yes, I have to admit, not being reliant on charity anymore was a big relief and I still consider being self-sufficient a rare gift in this world.
Lucia and Tessie moved out when the little tike was only fourteen months old and Lucia had saved up enough money from her job as a phone operator to be able to afford a small apartment two blocks away from mine. Now I just come round for visits and baby-sit Tessie whenever Lucia feels like going out. She’s a pretty good mom, actually. Got her act together surprisingly fast once it sank in that Tessie wouldn’t go anywhere for the next, say, eighteen years of her life
But me? So what if I’ve changed jobs as frequent as Pamela Anderson changes boob-size? I’m happy now, having my own radio-show at a local station called “Gator FM” here in sunny Florida. Might seem to some of you that all you have to do to be a DJ is talk, but let me tell you, there goes a lot of research into talking like you know what the heck you’re talking about!
I edit every show myself and usually it’s just me and Keith the sound technician in there. But for the first time in my now 29-year old life, I feel comfortable in my work.
I’ve got the best of a lot of worlds: my steady fan base who enjoy my show, but don’t know my face. And the fact I don’t have to dress up unless I feel like it. Which I don’t mostly. I’m your regular jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. Though I draw the line at shirts with ‘funny messages’ on them. I despise those.
Other than that, I do enjoy being an aunt, even if I’m a pretty crappy one today. See, my sister’s in the hospital for a few days after cracking her ribs when she lost balance trying to wash her windows day before yesterday. Tessie was there when it happened and she was smart enough to call both 911 and me.
So to reward her for her heroic actions and to distract her from what must have been a less than happy sight for a child her age, I decided to treat her to a weekend of pure Disney fun.
And boy am I having a good time. Laughing my ass off in every fairy-tale ride this park has to offer, dodging hundreds of glittery souvenir junk stands while wondering why it’s more busy than it should have been since it’s not a holiday.
“Tessie? Come on sweetie, where are you?”
Why do people ask questions like that? It’s not like anybody’s gonna answer? After all, that’s the idea of someone being missing: you’re too far away from where you’ve started to communicate. Let me tell you: it’s most definitely NOT a small world after all, no matter what the theme song says. Would I have lost her so easily if it was? There’s nothing small about this world or this park! And there’s nothing small about my headache either, not to mention my temper!
And here’s another question for you while we’re at it: how do these little brats do it anyway? Have they gotten some kind of genetically constructed now-is-the-most-convenient-time-to-vanish-into-thin-air radar? Something that kicks in simultaneously with their ability to walk and fades in time, hopefully? And why does my niece excel in this particular type of caretaker-bugging? I swear to you, if she’s doing this on purpose, I’m never going to take her anywhere ever again, except for the dentist or vaccinations! Unless they start kitting out these kids with an inner GPS system from birth. Medicare insured of course.
Just when I’m about to fetch some security guard and make a fool of myself by blubbering all over his uniform-clad chest, I hear an excited little squeal coming my way. Oh please, let it be who I hope it is. I’ll just buy her an ice-cream and half a dozen Cinderella dresses to help her forget to mention this to her mom.
Then I’ll kill her.
And hide her body. And come up with an excuse not to tell Lucia. No need to upset Lucia, right? And no need to depict me as a totally irresponsible adult. Remember, I’m not the one who’s gotten pregnant as a teenager. I’m merely the one losing the offspring in the middle of a crowded theme-park.
And no matter how many people tell me this ‘happens all the time’ you just wait until it happens to you. And if it has, you know what I’m talking about, right? Makes you feel more incompetent than Napoleon must have felt during Waterloo.
“Auntie Charlie, over here!”
There is a God after all!
I run to the source of the sound and finally spot my niece sitting on the arm of the most handsome man known to lots and lots of females around the globe.
I blink once. And again. This is not happening, this is too weird. I turn my back on the picture, than turn again. No…still approaching with a sure and steady step.
You’re never gonna believe it, but I swear it’s the truth: Tessie Riordan is being carried over by none other than Orlando Bloom.
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4/Dec/2007, 5:05
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comanchero
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
Chapter 1b:
Orlando’s POV
In my years of being an actor, I’ve noticed one truly unbelievable thing. I’d never believed it if I hadn’t experienced it in real life: the less you try to hide, the better you seem to go unnoticed.
And believe me, I’ve tried. Tried a fake beard, tried beanie hats and scarves and sunglasses, but unless you throw a sheet over yourself, cut out some eye-holes and pretend you’re part of the house of horrors, any other kind of cover-up will only make you look more conspicuous. People with less than supernatural powers know people who are wearing hats in the smoldering Florida heat are hiding something.
Most fan girls seem to have heightened powers even elves should be jealous of when it comes to spotting their idol.
So all I’m wearing is a baseball cap and sunglasses and I’ve gone blissfully unnoticed all morning. Weird huh?
Just when I’m getting used to my very rare occasion of anonymity as I enjoy a small vacation on the east coast (so more laid back than anything surrounding Hollywood), a small girl shrieks something sounding like ‘pirate’ and hurls herself in the general direction of my kneecaps.
Somehow I manage to remain standing, while frantically looking around to insure this creature’s outcry hasn’t awoken a herd of rampage estrogen filled teenagers. But all remains quiet at the western front. Eastern too for that matter.
Anyway, with this little elfling still clutching my legs, it’s pretty close to impossible to move, so I bend over and lift the child up in my arms to take a good look at her.
She’s cute and for a moment, I’m glad she ran into me rather than some weirdo who has the same definition of cute, but a more disturbed way of showing his attraction, if you get my drift. Crystal blue eyes stand out in a slightly grubby but otherwise flawless face with a button nose. Jet-black hair is being tied back in two pigtails with bright pink elastic bands at the ends. She’s wearing an equally shocking pink t-shirt with Minnie Mouse up front, blue jeans and pink sneakers. Did I mention she’s cute?
But surely this cutie-pie belongs with someone and as I can’t find anyone, I assess she might be lost, but thus far totally unaware of said fact. If she was, wouldn’t she be more frightened? This place is just a bit too big to get lost in. I mean, I would feel scared if I’d become separated from my friends. Normally, I do feel scared when that happens in places like this. Luckily, I’m flying solo today.
“You’re a pirate!” the girl informs me again, grinning, showing a lovely gap in between her front teeth. Must be changing then, which makes her about six years old, I guess, though she’s rather tiny.
Well, no denying that accusation. After all, my last movie is now showing and it does depict me as a pirate. This young lady here is a little more observant then most other people I know, since she’s so far the only one who has blown my cover.
Yet, before her high pitched voice can reveal more than I care for others to know, I put my finger against her button-hole mouth.
“Sweetie, can you do me a favor? This pirate doesn’t want to be found. Can it be our little secret?”
She eyes me conspicuously, a cute frown appearing on her smooth forehead. Ever been scrutinized by a child? It’s funny how they can make you feel less than adequate.
“Is that why you’re wearing normal clothes?”
Halleluiah! She gets it! Good girl, thanks for handing me a convenient way out. Gotta love little girl logic.
“Yup, that’s why. You’re one smart kid. Call me Orlando, or Orli. Can I know your name?”
She puffs up her chest like she’s the queen and declares to be:
“Theresa Ann Riordan. Tessie.”
I kiss the back of her little hand like you would a proper lady. “It is an honor to meet you, miss Tessie.”
She giggles and rubs her hand wide-eyed. Dear lord, Orli, you’ve done it again. Charmed yet another innocent soul.
But at least she appears to trust me now that I have to broach the subject of her running into me seemingly alone. Bracing myself for a panic attack once she’s aware her caretaker is nowhere to be found, I kindly ask her:
“Tessie, where’s your mommy?”
She shrugs as if I should know the obvious answer. “In the hospital.”
Okay, wrong question apparently. She’s not here with mommy. Let’s try again. “How about your daddy?”
Another shrug. “I have no daddy.”
Oh boy. Stay calm. Someone has to be responsible for taking the girl here. I can’t imagine her getting through the security of this park all on her own.
“Tessie, who took you here today?”
“Charlie.”
Okay, so we have a name. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Maybe this Charlie is an uncle or a teacher or something. Let’s just pray it’s not an imaginary friend. Or a perv.
“And this Charlie is what? Your uncle?”
Another giggle is accompanied by a fierce shaking of her head. Did I mention these creatures can make you feel like the most retarded person on the planet? Do you reckon they enjoy it?
“Charlie’s not a boy!” The whole sentence comes out like I should have known the fact all along, and the emphasis on the last word makes me think she’s still in the ‘boys have cooties’ stadium. I love this kid!
Question remains though: who’s this Charlie person? Please don’t let it be some invisible marsupial.
Just as I’m about to question this girl’s sanity as well as my own for that matter, she lets out a squeal worthy of a banshee and points in the direction of a thin young woman with wavy auburn curls, who looks about ready to keel over and die.
“Auntie Charlie, over here!”
The woman turns around, relief etching a positively elf-like face, much the same as the child wriggling in my grasp.
Auntie Charlie…mystery solved.
So...waddaya think?
Last edited by comanchero, 4/Dec/2007, 5:47
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4/Dec/2007, 5:06
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pib2cheeks
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
I'm liking this so far!  Tessie is so cute! Please update soon.
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4/Dec/2007, 13:06
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mzkiwi
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
Great start! Can't wait to see where it's going.
---
"I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself."
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6/Dec/2007, 0:17
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hobbitlass84
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
When are you going to up-date!?
I'm waiting! 
Please?!
Donna
--- 
Orlando Bloom. Young Woman Tested, Mother Approved! |
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9/Dec/2007, 21:49
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comanchero
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
Thanks for reading and reviewing my new story. I'm happy you seem to like it 
So...Here's chapter 2a and 2b (or not 2b...)
Chapter 2a
Charlie’s POV
And so it happens that the most drooled-over actor of this decade struts over to me (believe me, that man’s strut has nothing to do with walking. Walking is not supposed to be sexy as far as I know), carrying an absolutely smug looking Tessie in his arms. I never would have believed it possible, but I want to do serious bodily harm to a six-year old out of a deranged combination of sheer relief at her safe return and jealousy of her current location.
Gotta hand it to her though; this girl knows the only right way to get lost is to be found by Hollywood’s latest heartthrob. If I wasn’t feeling so odd, I would congratulate her. And ask her exactly how she does it.
But then again, if she can still pull this off when she’s in her teens, I’m locking her up. Lucia with her if she dares to protest. She won’t though, she’s not about to let her daughter fall into the same trap she did. Not until she’s forty at least.
Two more wide struts from long muscular legs (and yes I can tell, even if he’s dressed in oversized jeans) and he’s standing right in front of me.
I feel an odd sense of superiority one needs very badly around beings with the looks of him, when Tessie manages to struggle herself out of his hold to be picked up by her favorite, if only, auntie. Oh yeah, she still knows to whom to pledge her allegiance.
As soon as I hold her to me, I allow some maternal (aunternal is decidedly a word they should put into Webster’s as it is very close to maternal without actually being a mom) feelings to simply wash over me. In my attempt not to go all gaga at this man’s feet, I almost forgot that I was close to hysteria only five minutes ago. Right now though, I couldn’t care less if she was being brought back to me by a Yeti on speed. I’m just so incredibly glad she’s alright.
“Tessie sweetie are you okay? I was so scared when I couldn’t find you. What did I say about running off like that?”
I smile to indicate I’m not angry with her, but I did tell her to stay close and to just ask me if she wanted to go anywhere. Her bottom lip curls into a well-known pout, the one she expertly uses to either get what she wants or to get away with some very serious crimes against humanity…like getting lost.
“Not to?” She answers me and I swear she knows before I do she’s forgiven. Again. Trying to be the adult here and failing ominously, I nod sternly.
“That’s right. And what did I tell you about going with strangers?”
He grunts, but I ignore him. To be honest, I’m quite surprised he’s still here.
“He’s not a stranger, he’s a pirate.” Hurray for kiddy logic. Was I such a smart-ass when I was her age? Oh right, her mom was. This is not promising for her future. Meanwhile, she’s shooting him apologetic looks as I see his handsome face turn a shade of red more suitable for an overripe tomato.
“Oops…I wasn’t supposed to say that.” She bends over and whispers none too softly in my ear: “He doesn’t want others to know. That’s why he’s wearing normal clothes.”
Well people, I really, really don’t know what to hold against that information, so I wisely decide to back out while I can. I just leave it at: “Don’t you go running off again now, you hear me?”
She nods, relieved she’s getting away easily. As she very well should be.
Which leaves me with one more thing to do…I turn to the beautiful specimen of mankind and stretch out my hand to him.
“Hi, Charlotte Riordan, Charlie for short. Thanks for bringing my niece back. I guess child-rescuer can now be added to your résumé?”
His hand grasps mine, but instead of shaking it like any sane person would do, he tugs me a bit closer to him and kisses the back of my hand with unsuspected grace.
“Very pleased to meet you, milady. My name, as you might already know, is Orlando Bloom, Orli for friends and/or Hobbits. I must inform you that reuniting two such lovely damsels is completely my honor.”
Then he winks! And me? Poor me is rendered completely speechless! A very rare condition for a radio DJ and one I hope I will find a cure for before I have to return to work day after tomorrow.
Luckily, it’s again little Tessie who saves me from answering. A small hand tugs my drying jeans-clad leg, prying away my focus on this man.
“Auntie Charlie?”
“Yes?”
“Can I have an ice-cream?”
She’s got to be kidding me. What is it with kids these days? Are they equipped with chromium stomachs or something? And if so, is it gonna effect the GPS system I wanted to build in? I mean, we just had those aforementioned terrible hotdogs, she had a bag of potato chips to go with it, she’s been in Splash Mountain with me…and she wants an ice-cream? Surely she must be joking.
But a pair of big blue eyes are looking up at me expectantly, nothing indicating she is even aware she couldn’t possible want anything else to eat by now.
I’m about to decline, when the pleasant voice of the still very much present knight in shining baseball cap cuts me off. Rather rude, come to think of it…
“If you still have some time, I’d like to offer both of you some refreshments.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Bloom, but I’m sure you have other things to do. We wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.”
He shakes his head like a wet dog in his apparent haste to contradict me. Why is he so persistent? He can have every woman in this park forgetting about all Disney figures and lying drooling at his feet in zero point five seconds flat, but he wants us to join him? This is so not happening.
But it is. “Please, it’s absolutely no burden. I’d just like to offer you a drink. If nothing else, regard it as my way of helping you get over your trauma.”
Trauma? Is he a drama-queen or what? And while I desperately try to kick start my remaining dry brain-cell, both my niece and the actor…they turn on me!
One pair of simpering blue eyes, one pair of liquid chocolate ones and two equal pouts work their combined magic on me…and suddenly I’m hungry. I could eat a gallon of ice-cream, as long as it’s deep dark chocolate…and cold. I need something to cool me down.
“Very well, let’s go have ourselves some ice-cream.”
Accompanied by the shouts of Tessie, we find our way to an ice-cream vendor and an empty bench.
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10/Dec/2007, 10:00
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comanchero
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Re: Stumbling Across Orlando - By comanchero
...And here's 2b
Orli’s POV
She’s so glad to spot her niece, it’s touching. Though I have to admit it does feel like emasculation when the girl in my arms is wriggling herself free from me to allow her aunt to scoop her up. At the risk of sounding ****y, it’s very uncommon for any female to leave my arms willingly. I’m really not used to it anymore.
For a moment, I feel like an intruder witnessing their reunion, but I’m loathe to walk away. There’s something about both ladies that appeals to me for unknown reasons. Every fiber in my body simply demands me to remain grounded.
I cringe as her gentle scolding of the child suddenly turns to include me. I’m not sure if I’m insulted by being called a stranger, but then again, even if I’m a world famous actor and she must have recognized me standing this close, I could just as well have been a serial nutcase in the flesh. Though according to the hobbits, that’s exactly what I am.
The girl’s answer brings a grin to my face, though for a moment I’m scared to see my cover being blown yet again, but the gods are with me still, so I relax.
She too is a lot more at ease when she turns to me again, though her face shows surprise that I’m still standing there. Well, I gotta admit, so am I. I mean, here I thought I was here for some leisure, some me-time in a place where most attention still gets drawn by a different Goofy, and I’m still craving human contact apparently.
There’s just something about the pair of them which draws me in. Whether it’s the innocence of the little girl (it’s been quite some time since I’ve been around a real innocent person, even the kids in my business become jaded somehow), or the appearance of the small woman she’s related to.
Since I’m still a man despite of the little kick in the ego this kid gave me, I won’t apologize for the fact I’ve been sizing her up; this auntie Charlie. Must be short for Charlotte then.
She’s petite, to use an appropriate word. She has a tiny waist, nicely shaped legs in a pair of skinny jeans and a cute round ass. Slim, well-toned arms in delicious ivory taint peep out from her white tank-top, adorned with a small embroidered Eeyore on the left breast. I adore Eeyore and in this case I envy him. A faded pink bag is draped across her shoulder to rest against her hip on the other side, a pair of sunglasses is perched on her head, surrounded by auburn curls. The eyes in her heart-shaped face are as blue as the child’s and she has about half a dozen freckles on an arrogant tipped up little nose with a reddening tip. Somebody’s forgotten her sun block.
Her lips are full, with the corners curled up in an indulgent smile. Kissable lips. But then there’s her voice. One would suspect a high pitch, but instead, she has a melodious deep alto. Sexy is the only word to describe it. She could make tons with that voice in a particular branch of work…whoa there stallion.
Oh…and she seems to be on her way back from being drowned in ice-cold water. Let’s just say Winnie’s friend is doing a very poor job of covering up the blatantly obvious result of a woman exposed to a cold environment.
Okay, I’m a pervert. There you have it.
And yes, I’m intrigued. I don’t want to leave their sides yet.
She turns to me and reaches out her hand to greet me.
“Hi, Charlotte Riordan, Charlie for short. Thanks for bringing my niece back. I guess child-rescuer can now be added to your résumé?”
Ah…politeness and cheekiness, I can respect that combination. And top it off with a dash of cavalry charm. I give her my most brilliant smile (and since I make good money with it, I’m secure in it’s effect) and proceed to kiss her hand. Am I suave or what?
“Very pleased to meet you, milady. My name, as you might already know, is Orlando Bloom, Orli for friends and/or Hobbits. I must inform you that reuniting two such lovely damsels is completely my honor.”
Without a script! I’m so proud of myself that I add an extra wink for good measure. Oh yeah, getting the hang of it now.
Charlie just blinks at me owlishly with those amazing orbs of her and I can feel my intestines do a little unexpected boogie-woogie. This lady is so cute.
Only too bad my brain fails to come up with an excuse to hang around short of becoming a stalker. But again, it’s Tessie who saves the day for me. She must be some cupid in disguise. None too gently she tugs at her aunt’s leg.
“Auntie Charlie?”
“Yes?”
“Can I have an ice-cream?”
The look on Charlie’s face is priceless as she tries to figure out where the tiny kid is gonna put the large portions they serve around here. As I can see she’s about to say no, I take my chances. Go me.
“If you still have some time, I’d like to offer both of you some refreshments.”
She recoils a little, not knowing yet that turning down this offer is not an option.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Bloom, but I’m sure you have other things to do. We wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.”
“Please, it’s absolutely no burden. I’d just like to offer you a drink. If nothing else, regard it as my way of helping you get over your trauma.”
How do I come up with bull**** like that? Maybe it’s got something to do with the saying ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’. These are desperate times, my friends.
So I pull out all stops, aided in my quest by a nagging six-year old. Together, we’re a mass of pouting lips and puppy-eyes. I mean, who could resist? Who wouldn’t melt at the spot? Please can I take you out for some ice-cream? Pretty please? Cherry on top? I’ll grovel if I have to…
I can tell the very moment she surrenders and my stomach flips over.
“Very well, let’s go have ourselves some ice-cream.”
Giving Charlie my most charming grin and Tessie a high-five, I take both ladies to a vendor and an abandoned park bench, feeling utterly content for the first time in weeks.
So....
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10/Dec/2007, 10:04
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