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Post by Reactinator304 on Nov 11, 2014 17:52:21 GMT -5
I've been writing this since January, and Intermittently, been stopping off. It's been a cool story, but not many have found access to it. Therefore, I will give you the Updates week by week, page by page, so you can keep up. And at the same time I will not be behind. Warning ahead of time, this story contains major spoilers, so if you intend to be surprised by the game, or its plot, try not to read too much of this.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Nov 11, 2014 17:53:44 GMT -5
Week of November 11th, 2014
It happened on a day just like any other. Michael was on his way home from school one afternoon, grumbling and cursing like usual. Looking over the events of his day, he realized yet another English assignment had yielded a zero, he had sat isolated from conversation all day, and, yet again, had neglected to speak to the cute girl he liked, in any of the five classes they shared. But today, he was especially bummed because his three favorite cousins would be visiting a nearby relative, and he would be stuck at home trying in vain to lessen the enormous mound of homework due the next day. But despite his current mood, he vowed to get started as soon as possible, and maybe finish in time to go visit Joel, Mary, and Anna before they left in the morning. By this time, he had reached the end of his driveway. He decided to stop and grab the mail out of the mailbox, a task he typically would have reserved for his older sister’s arrival home, or his mother on her way home from work. But today, he mindlessly grabbed the mail and headed for the front door. As he fumbled with his keys, the sound of speedy footprints arose, nearly scaring him out of his skin. He turned to find his neighbors’ dog, Barry, had escaped again, only running as far as next door. So, dutifully, Michael walked the excitable pooch back to his owners on their doorstep before returning to his own. After getting inside and performing his usual routine, he pulled out his physics assignment and prepared to get started. By the time he got to number 4, he was convinced that this would be another very simple worksheet. Then he actually read the question. It read: “Find a given object in your home weighing twenty pounds or more. Then measure its exact mass and dimensions, and determine how long it would take to push it up a ramp twelve feet from the tailgate of a truck three feet off the ground with a constant force of fifteen Newtons. Show all work.” “Great,” he said to himself. “This may take a while.” (Had he actually been paying attention in class, he would have known that the teacher had said to skip number four, as well as numbers fourteen and twenty-three.) After a long sigh, he began shoving objects on the table left and right to search for his ruler to measure his history textbook, which he was sure weighed more than twenty pounds. On his arm’s third or fourth sweep, he brushed away a couple envelopes from the top of the stack of mail, revealing (not that it was even hidden, or that he had even stopped to look at the mail) an envelope of a deep violet hue that was so vivid he could swear it was glowing, or at the very least shimmering. Upon further examination of the envelope, he found it wasn’t addressed to him, or any of the members of his household, but instead to Natalie Evans, his four-door down neighbor and fellow classmate. Why she was receiving a letter, he was baffled. She and her family did everything, from bills to advertisements, electronically. But this letter was clearly addressed to her, only with his home address. But Mike, despite knowing it was a federal crime, not to mention extremely rude, to open other people’s mail, opened it anyway. It was full of large confusing words, most of which Michael had to guess on (napping in English, anyone?), but one phrase was clear as day. “We know who you are, and have seen what you can do. If interested in the above offer, mail back a response using the enclosed postage stamp, and it will reach us within the day.” What was it talking about? Was it a job offer, like he was looking for? And for the love of God, why purple?!?
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Post by Reactinator304 on Nov 22, 2014 17:34:06 GMT -5
Week of November 18, 2014
He decided to go give Natalie her cryptic letter. Thank goodness he hadn’t ripped the envelope opening it; otherwise he would have to explain why he was looking at her mail. He resealed it, slipped on his jacket, and headed back outside to give it to her. She answered the door herself, saving him the worry hoping she’d actually receive it. “What’s up, Mike?” she said tersely. “Not much,” he replied. “I just got some of your mail by accident, and figured I should give it to you.” He handed her the purple envelope. “Oh, okay, thanks…Hey! Did you open this already?!?” As he realized he had gotten caught, he sheepishly put his hand behind his head. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry… But if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t understand any of--” He was cut off by a short groan, followed by an abrupt slamming of the door. ***Natalie*** Natalie’s heart was pounding a mile a minute. Her day was just full of her stupid actions. Not only had she possibly revealed her abilities that morning, but she had shut out both the guys she liked. First, she had snapped at Zachary when he had asked about one of her sudden headaches, then Michael, for reading her mail. Of course, she couldn’t blame them; she would’ve done the same under those circumstances. And hadn’t she seen that purple envelope before? *8 hours earlier* Natalie was going to be late again. Her mother and father had already left for work, and she missed the bus. Her only options were to either illegally drive the spare car (she wouldn’t get her license for another few days), or to hop on her bike and pedal like the dickens. Two minutes later, she was rushing down the sidewalk, and actually making great time. Maybe she wouldn’t be late after all. Unfortunately, her reverie caused her to crash into a well-dressed pedestrian. “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” protested the man. “I’m so sorry,” Natalie frantically said as she bent down and scrambled to help the man retrieve the papers that had fallen out of his briefcase. “I’m running really late.” “No thank you, I’ve got it,” he snapped. “Fine,” she retorted. She handed what she had already picked up to the man – two sheets of really crowded notepaper and a purple envelope. Not printed on, but full nonetheless. This guy must have a lot of money to be wasting on a purple envelope. Or maybe it’s a card for a loved one, she thought to herself. Flustered at having her help rejected, she hopped back on her bike and sped off, not noticing the trail of stardust left in her wake… *Present* Natalie was worried. How had the same purple envelope she had seen that morning reached her so quickly? More importantly, how and why had it reached her in the first place? She cautiously opened, or rather, re-opened it, and began to read. By the time she finished, she was even more worried and insecure than she had been before. “We know who you are, and have seen what you can do.”…Damn it! That man had seen her powers! And not just the businessman, a “We” as stated in the document. They knew who she was? How on Earth—had they been following her?!? Why did they spend their time tracking her down, only to offer her protection (albeit in a rather wordy manner)? And now Mike knew too. She knew better than to believe he was as clueless as he claimed. But she hoped he had only understood a small portion of it, an insufficient amount to discern her secret. Again she felt pangs of guilt for slamming the door on him. The poor guy had enough trouble to deal with. “I mean, he must spend forever to get his hair looking like that," she said aloud. “No! I can’t be getting off topic again! Besides, I need to keep under the radar, and he’s got his eye on Emily anyway.” Secretly, she wished he did know her secret, as if that would make her more spectacular in his eyes. But if people were finding her identity, and she was in danger, the last thing she wanted was to drag him into it.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Nov 29, 2014 22:53:09 GMT -5
Week of November 23rd, 2014
***Mike*** “Well that was inviting,” Mike pouted. Still, he couldn’t help thinking that she’d been acting unusual that day, and that slamming the door had been very uncharacteristic of her. She was usually as perfect as a primrose. “Well, no use fretting over that,” he mumbled. “Back to physics! Yay!” he added with sarcasm. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus. His mind kept drifting to the thought of Natalie and the letter. Its ominous tone was getting to him, and the thought of any danger coming to a person he would like to call a friend made him want to take action. Physics, as well as family, would have to wait. Curiosity demanded it. He grabbed his jacket and cell phone, and slipped out the door. After locking the door, he turned to head for her house, and glimpsed her running out her front door with a large rucksack over her shoulder. “Hey! Natalie, wait!” She looked back over her shoulder and, to his surprise, turned back ahead and started running even faster. What gives, he wondered. He proceeded to quicken his pace, trying to match hers or hopefully, surpass it. Man, she is really booking’! What did I do? Nonetheless, he was gaining on her at this point, and would likely catch her soon. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice all the glitter that was peeling off of her clothing and flowing through her tailwind. This didn’t make sense to him, as she wasn’t wearing anything glittery. What the hell is going on here?!? His teenage brain suggested body glitter, but he just as soon dismissed it. Not quiet Natalie. She may be hiding something, but she would never stoop that low: she just wasn’t that kind of person. His mind continued to supply ideas, all of which were stupid and outlandish. He gave up his guessing, and figured he would simply ask her after he caught up to her. By and large, he was now on her tail, and the “glitter” was getting in his face. He hoped after they talked things out, then maybe things would start to make sense. But as he passed through a fake image of Natalie, it burst into sparkles. “So much for making sense…” ***Natalie*** And so her metaphorical drip bucket of regrets gained another drop of water. She felt bad again, about sneaking out the back door and sending a decoy out the front, but she was on her bike, a mile or so from home already. Home…family…happiness…all left behind. But she wasn’t going to turn back. Yet, whether she turned back or not, she was still looking back in her mind. And for this, she missed her chance to evade more guilt in hearing a familiar voice beckon her over to a car. Mike’s mother was a nice woman, with nice, young, smooth features to boot, but Natalie didn’t have time for nice. She wasn’t in the mood or mindset for chatting. Regardless, she didn’t have the capacity for being rude. She stopped her bike on the sidewalk next to Ms. Magnolia’s car, and pushed her long brown bangs out of her eyes. “So what are you up to out here so far from home on your bike? You look exhausted, dear!” “Not much. I’ve got places to be, though. Don’t have long to chat.” After a quick look at her watch, she added, “Scratch that, I got to go now, or ill be late,” to her string of lies. “Well, can I give you a ride? Where are you headed?” “No. thanks, but I’ll be fine,” she hurriedly replied. “Besides, I saw Michael heading home with his backpack overstuffed with homework. I think he could use some help more than I could.” “Alright, but you know how to reach us if you decide you do need help.” “Ok. Thanks anyway. Goodbye, Mrs. Magnolia.” “See you later, dear.” And with that, both left in opposite directions. Natalie continued her aimless biking undisturbed, yet furious at herself for being rude all that day, and still without a surefire sign as to whether she was in trouble, as suspected, or not. But with all of the frantic choices she had been making, chances were high that she would have to eventually explain herself, and danger might ensue after that.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Dec 4, 2014 15:02:03 GMT -5
Week of December 2nd, 2014
“Idiot,” she muttered to herself. She hoped her decoy had remained undisturbed, for if it had dissipated, she may not even have to explain herself before finding herself in danger. Or at the very least, she would be forced to explain herself. If only I could monitor those things… she thought. She’d done it once. But the nausea and tunnel vision had nearly made her upchuck. She hadn’t tried since. But she needed the peace of mind. She headed for someplace quiet and safe where she could try to make contact. The pier, which was nearby, was often completely devoid of people, especially at this hour. It would have to do. ***Mike*** Michael sat with his head in his hands, confused and utterly bewildered. The powdered, glittery stuff had gotten all over his face, arms, and the top half of his chest. It was really starting to itch, and as an added bonus, he could hardly see straight, an effect he also blamed on the sparkly crap. But what he could see was that he was alone at the pier, and the sun was about to set. Great. Now how do I get home? he wondered. Then he heard faint sounds behind him. He jumped and whirled around like a furious maelstrom, his fists ready. He could make out that he was facing a person, but was clueless as to whom. “Who are you?!?!?!?” he yelled. “Trust me, you don’t want any trouble! You’ll be flat on your face before you can get a word in edgewise!” The blurred figure uttered a muffled response that Michael didn’t understand. “I said who are you!” “Michael, it’s me, Natalie. What are you doing out here?” she asked very quietly. He lowered his fists. “Natalie? I came here chasing after you. I was worried you might be in trouble and wanted to see if there was anything I could do to help… But I had no clue where you went…” ***Natalie*** “Damn,” she said under her breath. As soon as she said it, she immediately regretted it. Not that it wasn’t true, but it hurt. She had been yelling at the top of her lungs trying to reach a level that Mike’s dulled ears might hear. She had no indication of how much of what she said did get to him, but she did know quite well that she wouldn’t be able to keep it up much longer. They needed a cure (or at the very least, a miracle). “Do you have any idea what this stuff is doing?” Mike pleaded. “Is there any way to get rid of it?” “I DON’T KNOW. THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!” Jeez. At this rate, she would be mute before she could do any good. It was either that, or whoever was searching for her would succeed in their quest. She reckoned she could be heard a mile away. As if on cue, a voice from behind a crate uttered, “Is everything alright?” Natalie, being the only one of the pair to have actually heard the man’s remark, turned with a start. It was the very same well-dressed man she had met earlier that morning. With the moon blocked by clouds, the streetlamps around the pier made the man look quite sinister. Retaining the straight look on his face, he snapped his fingers, and two more suited goons stepped out of the shadows, taking up positions on the opposite side of the group, closing their routes of escape. “Hey, ThAre’s Summ gUys In suuTs hEErre…” Mike said woozily, forcing Natalie to turn around and observe her companion’s current state, which was clearly worsening. He was swooning, and the sparkles had congealed into a gel substance that was sticking tight to his skin, soon to completely enclose his face. Expectedly, she was alarmed. “Your friend does not look well,” said the man. And with that, he signaled with a twirl of his finger to yet another man stationed atop a stack of crates. Natalie only had time to glance up quickly before hearing a blurry object whiz by her quickly, and she saw Mike fall to the ground with a needle-like object protruding from his shin. She instantly knew where the object had originated from. Natalie cried out.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Dec 8, 2014 18:23:37 GMT -5
Week of 12/8/14
“What did you do?!?” she sobbed. “Calm yourself, he is unharmed. Feel free to check his pulse. When he wakes, the effects of that – er, stuff – will be gone. However, I still suggest treating the affected area with saltwater to ensure the effects are completely dissipated, and do not return.” “How long will he be out?” she asked. “Ten minutes. By the time he wakes, we will have left. But at present, we must discuss business. Allow me to more formally introduce myself. I am Special Agent Neil Phillip Collins. My colleagues are Agent Reynolds, Agent Roberts, and Agent O’Donnell. Contrary to what you believe, we have no hostile intentions toward you and your friend. But we would, however, like very much to recruit you if you are interested.” “Recruit?” “Precisely. Our employer has been searching for individuals with…special talents, if you will.” “Your employer?” “Yes. He prefers to remain anonymous until he meets his pupils. You will become a pupil if you decide to accept the offer. We will train you in both natural and special abilities, teach you to harness your talents, and grow stronger, and in return, we require that you help to protect civilian citizens from danger.” “I don’t kn-” he cut her off. “No need. You do not need to decide immediately. The opportunity will always be available. You still have the letter and the enclosed stamp, and you can send them whenever you decide the time is right. In the meantime, we look forward to hearing from you.” He paused, putting his first two fingers to his ear and listening intently. “Canterbury Avenue?” he asked apostrophically. “Right. We are on our way.” Then he directed his last statement at Natalie. “Farewell, Ms. Evans.” And he and his team disappeared into the shadows.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 4, 2015 18:51:01 GMT -5
Week of December 15th, 2014 - Catch-up
***Dream – Mike*** It had to be a dream. And it needed to end soon. He didn’t know how much more of the horrific images he could endure before he lost sanity. He was watching an army advance through space. Nothing bad was happening to them, but Mike knew that an event was about to take place. On the subject of place, the space they were moving through was laden with a series of planet-like spheres connected to one another via a system of glass tubules, sort of like a planetary archipelago. From these, a series of moving objects, entities, people, even, were leaping through the air toward a larger planet somewhat disconnected from the other planets. It was bright orange and very densely gaseous, with quite a few points where the surface was hazy and very drastically warped, along with the space around the warp. There was also a huge bulbous dome poking out the top of the planet. But most noticeable were the large pillars on one end of the planet and also on either side of the side facing them. In each spot, there were five pillars connected with a central platform. Hovering above each of the two sets facing the army was a large, pulsating, black sphere, containing all traits typical of a black hole save for its gravity. On the other side of the battle, there were a couple hundred humanoids leaping across the smaller planets, but none yet had reached the large planet, which Mike decided to call “X” as in a treasure map. Among the army were a couple faces he recognized. Included were Natalie, his friend Zachary, and their local news reporter. They were all wearing ridiculous outfits that were seemingly without practical purpose. And then there was the leader. He was hovering above all the planets, wearing Viking armor that was silver with a severe white pallor. His face was green and somewhat transparent. A ghost maybe? Michael’s train of thought was then interrupted by a very masculine voice next to him, which was odd because he considered himself to be merely a spectator in this dream. “Hey, mate, we gotta keep moving. It’ll take all of us if were gonna take it down, and any threats it puts out,” said the voice with a heavy Australian accent. Involuntarily, Mike turned his head to the side and uttered a response. “Alright, I’m going.” And he started moving forward, also against his will.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 4, 2015 18:52:11 GMT -5
Week of December 22nd - Catch-up
***Narrator*** Now, dear reader, I break the fourth wall to share something with you in a manner that explains the feelings in a more apt description than my poor namesake could even comprehend. When you think of space travel, nine times out of ten the science fiction show or movie (or cartoon, if you are uncivilized) that pops into your head has the gravity wrong. Even the movie titled Gravity got it wrong. Why? They left out a few crucial concepts that drastically influence any motion. When you experience ‘weightlessness” in space, there are always two forces present, which few can comprehend: one being ulterior gravity from another source, the other being cosmic ray magnetism. Both are tricky to represent, and as a result, both rarely get addressed, and never are amply described. The ulterior gravity feels like a thousand tiny strings pulling on the fiber of your being, and is slightly less annoying than mosquitos. The cosmic rays, however, can get complicated. They are usually magnetic pulses given off by anti-matter atomic fusion. The potential danger for these is that they are extremely unpredictable. Here on Earth, only three materials have their own magnetic spin resonance, some Iron, Cobalt, and Nickel. With the presence of cosmic rays, the MSR’s vary. Anything from light, gaseous materials, to dense, heavy, metallic ones can be affected depending on the frequency being currently expressed, higher for larger collisions, lower for smaller collisions. But we have absolutely no way of telling the frequencies apart, as they pull on any instruments rather than being absorbed and read. At the moment Mike began to move in his dream, a teammate reached a twenty-yard proximity of Planet X. Many of the present company would afterwards attest to having noticed a jagged, split-second fluctuation in the mass of the orbs hovering above Planet X’s spires. But whether the fluctuation happened or not, the next event was almost impossible not to notice. (In all reality, the flux did indeed happen) Out of nowhere, the whole of the crew was either light-headed or had a headache. And all at once, they began to be sucked in toward the orbs. It was at this point that three objects from the surrounding area slid out of their current positions to reveal ambient light in the form of three of what looked like suns in a star system, bathing all that had been dark a minute ago with an intense brilliant luminescence. These were in fact the sites of anti-matter fusion, as parallels to our own suns. Everything was now visible and clear as day. The planet did not simply contain their final obstacle, it was their final obstacle. A series of anti-solar flares flashed more light into the area, and for each split-second flash, Mike could see that most of the mass of the planet in its current state was a gigantic, living, sleeping entity. The pillars with platforms were in fact hands, the ones without feet, and the bulge was from its head. And now the being was making an effort, still asleep, to capture the large group of small beings that presented themselves before it, perhaps as a snack. I suppose I will break the fourth wall again to inform you that it is only possible for me to do so when the characters are dreaming, for convenience’s sake, as well as to follow protocol, and not interrupt the characters’ more livid, important thought processes and actions. I will also remind you that this was a dream, not what was currently happening. And it was at this time that Michael awoke, leaving the rest of the dream to occur at a later occasion.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 4, 2015 18:53:23 GMT -5
Week of December 29th, 2014 *WHAT HUH?!?!?!?! OK I'm awake*
***Natalie*** “Mike…Michael!…MIKE! WAKE UP!” screamed Natalie. She was beginning to worry that the estimated ten minutes was going to be way off, but now she was beginning to see signs of life creep back into his features, which were no longer obscured by glittering goop. So they were telling the truth, she thought. But I’m still going to have to explain myself. The next moment she was startled by a certain unconscious somebody suddenly becoming conscious again, announced by a loud “RESIST THE HANDS!!!” “Well, someone had a good nap…” “No, I most certainly did no—hey, wait a minute! What happened to all of that goo crap all over my face?” “I dissolved it with saltwater. We are at the pier, after all. As for the other issues you were having, those were taken care of by the same dart that knocked you out cold,” Natalie explained. “Dart?” he questioned. “Yes, dart. Compliments of the ‘guys in suuts,’” she giggled. Then she gave him a moment to piece things together. “…That’s right…What happened to them?” “They left. Had somewhere else to go. They were only her to advocate the business and the offer in the letter.” “That sounds like something that would have taken a while. How long was I out?” “Ten minutes. Then they left, and now you and I need to get home. Any more questions?” “I have one. What-…how-…why-……um, how and why did you do what you did earlier? I’m still completely confused.” There it was: The moment of truth laid out before her. And with its presence, Natalie felt a paradox within herself. Earlier, before this big catastrophe, she was eager to reveal her powers to this guy to maybe make herself look good in his eyes. Now, after all of the chaos and issues she’d caused him, she was reluctant and afraid she may seem like a freak. But regardless, of how she would feel, she knew she owed him an explanation after she’d almost suffocated him. Here goes, she sighed. “What I did was create an illusory decoy to keep people off of my trail. I was leaving because I thought those men were out to get me and do who knows what. I didn’t want anybody involved and possibly also in danger. Until today, only I knew of what I could do, but I was never good at it. As to how it works, I’m not completely sure scientifically, but I know that performing the trick works like flexing a muscle that you recently found out you can flex. I’ve been able to do the sparkle thing since I was little, but I found out that decoy trick just last year. But every time I try it, it takes a toll on my strength.” “So you’re some sort of superhero then?” “No. As you have already seen, I am at a loss for controlling my ‘powers,’ and frankly, there’s nothing ‘super,’ or even useful, about them. Even if I could control them, where would they do any good?” “Well, you certainly incapacitated me pretty quickly; if you could get ahold of those darts, you could capture criminals the same way I went down. Or anyone, for that matter. You’d be wonderful.” “Didn’t it take you coming after the decoy to set that off, not the other way around?” “You’re right. The luring could be tricky…” “Gee, thanks!” she exclaimed, miffed. This guy, who, need she remind herself, she liked, had run nearly a mile after her, or at least what he had thought was her, and had gotten her hopes up. She’d been beet red with embarrassment when she saw what happened. (Not that he could have seen that, he could barely see who she was) But now her sky-high dreams came crashing down quite dangerously at terminal velocity as her crush scientifically analyzed what she needed to do to attract people. And all at once her asteroidal hopes struck bottom, an explosive sadness ensuing.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 4, 2015 18:54:58 GMT -5
Week of January 5th, 2015
***Mike*** Shock interrupted his thoughts when Mike realized that he had hurt her with what he had said. Her previously calm, talkative mood was all of a sudden a deep dismal gash in her heart. (Metaphorically, of course) Had he insulted her? Interrupted her? Missed a hint? Honestly, he was never going to understand people, specifically girls. Then he looked at her, and it hit him. My god, she likes me! How could I have been so carelessly stupid?!?!? Chasing her duplicate made her think I felt the same, and then I ruined it for her. Gah! What a blind, stupid bastard I am! He walked over to her, where she was sitting on the edge of the pier with her back facing him, resting her cheek on her hand, her elbow on her leg, and she was looking out at the nighttime sea. He sat down beside her silently. “I’m sorry. I’m a moron. I’ve just always though us mere acquaintances, and hoped to get to be on the level of close friends. I guess I never considered that you wanted more because I was so wrapped up in my own hopes for friendship. And I guess I’m also terrible at picking up on things. Ask my homework. I’m sorry for what I said. Please forgive me.” There was a short pause, then a quiet, raspy reply that made her tears more obvious. “I don’t suppose I have much choice, I just told you my biggest, life-threatening secret… And after the events of tonight, I would hope we’re at least on the ‘close friends’ level.” “Which of your two secrets was the ‘biggest’ one?” he said in earnest. She shot him a disdainful look, emulating an expression of ‘seriously?’ “Right. The superhero one…” he continued. “So, the suits,” he prompted, changing the subject. “They didn’t mean to harm you after all. But what’s this ‘business offer’ you mentioned?” “Well,” she sighed. “They want to train and recruit me.” “Recruit you? For what?” “I don’t know. Being a superhero, I guess…” “Really? And they offer training as well? You should seriously consider, you’d make an amazing superhero. I can see it now. It’d put a damper on time for friendships and such, but what do you need a dumb guy like me for?” he stated, sarcastically and humbly. “And hey, even leaving it just to training, you’d learn enough to incinerate me for saying the wrong thing, which I’ve been known to do. But seriously, consider it.” “Oh, alright,” she said. “I’ll think about it.” “Good.” He stood up. “Now, about getting home…” The next moment he was caught off guard as she jumped up and gave him a hug, completely contrasting the emotions that were previously active. Girls… he thought. “It was starting to get chilly here. I thought you’d never ask.” ***Natalie*** The next minute, they were both on Natalie’s bike, barreling down the road. Natalie had been exhausted at the pier, but with the officialization of her and Mike being ‘close friends,’ she was one step closer to being ‘boyfriend and girlfriend,’ and now she had all the energy in the world. And she would take that step, especially since they would now be communicating and spending time more often together, which would soon be “together” together. And he did encourage her to use her abilities and be a superhero. That meant that A.) He was in her corner, and B.) He thought her powers were something special. Plus, she saw the way things were going and knew enough of human nature to predict that Mike would very likely get involved with it and even help. This, she thought, could either be good, or end really, really badly. He’ll have to prove he can hold his own before I can let him get too involved, but I’ll keep quiet for now. She was then jarred out of her dream world by a sudden jolt: they had gone over a large rock, and she had still been pedaling like a madman, or rather, madwoman. She turned her head to look back and see the rock, and instead came to face Mike, wincing and exhaling through clenched teeth. She herself winced in sympathy for her companion, sitting on the metal of the bike frame, in the least comfortable position possible. Acknowledging this, she slowed down a little. They turned the corner onto their street, their houses now in view. She let out a breath of relief and biked the rest of the way. But she was beginning to tire, her energy boost wearing off. By the time she reached Mike’s driveway, and he hobbled toward his door with a sore rump, she was more exhausted than she had been before the boost, and when she got into her own house, she was out like a light.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 19, 2015 14:24:24 GMT -5
Week of January 11th
***Mike*** Mike wasn’t that tired when he got in the house, especially considering it was well past midnight. Instead, he was sore, and his mind was reeling over the events of the day. It was too late for him to get any progress on homework, let alone finish it, but he didn’t want to do it anyway. All he could really do was document what had happened while it was still fresh in his memory. He wasn’t big on keeping a journal, but he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget what had happened. And that dream! What a wonky dream! *20 minutes later* …have yet to see what she will decide, but I will support whatever it is. “Period,” he narrated, as he wrote in such a mark. “Finally, I’m done.” The soreness had mostly worn off by now, and his mind was calmed by having a documented account of the day. So he put up his pen, set his alarm, and crawled into bed. ***Dream – Mike*** Hello, readers. Your beloved narrator returns. And he heralds the coming of the dreams again, while speaking in third person of himself. (Nice.) Ahem. “RESIST THE HANDS!” Mike found himself yelling. “WE CAN’T!!!” many responded. “THEY’RE TOO STRONG!!!” Michael saw that all of them were being pulled in hopelessly, including his Australian comrade, but all of them at different rates. However, the gravity/cosmic pull was not affecting Mike at all. For whatever reason, the twin vortexes of terror had no effect on him. So he reached for the Australian’s hand. “GRAB ON!” Mike yelled desperately. The Australian complied without hesitation, and amazingly, Mike’s position held, as well as his grip on the man. “Maelstrom!” yelled the man. “Can you help us out with the gravity here! We’ve got a tenable spot, but I doubt it’ll hold us all!” “I’ll see what I can do,” responded someone not twenty yards away. After a moment of no success, he gave report. “Nothing I can do! It’s too strong!” “Alright, then get as many people as you can and get them over here. And tell everyone else to do the same!” Then he addressed Mike: “Do you think you can hold us all?” “I’ll try. I didn’t even know I could hold myself. But it’s worth a try!” “Then we’ll give it a shot!” And with that, he reached in to the air, or rather, lack of air, beckoning people toward him. Eventually, all of the group, save for a few stragglers, were huddled around them, and clustered like a school of fish, with a single chain of people forming to reach the remaining three. The first was easy, requiring a chain of only fifteen people, and the second required fifty-two. But no matter how hard they tried, how fast their chain grew, it wasn’t long enough to reach the last member. Many of the group turned away at this point, abashed to think their teammate, and a potential last chain link, die such a horrible and fearful death. Others, mainly those at the end of the chain tried vainly to reach him and save him, but ultimately, they were still a ways off. Yet, luckily, at the last moment, the anti-suns re-eclipsed, and cosmic pull dissipated for the most part. Then they managed to get him with the extra reach of a javelin one of them was carrying. They instantly used all of their might to pull the group to a tighter huddle for safety. They were glad they had saved their friend, but they also realized at the same moment that the threat was far larger than they thought. And it was only a matter of time before the daylight cycle opened up again. Once it finished recharging, they were sure it would get them. But at present they were catapulted backward by a rebounding gravitational particle implosion. As the particles passed them, they snagged many other particles of the group, pulling them away from Planet X. and just as things started to get confusing, Mike was awakened again.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 19, 2015 14:25:20 GMT -5
Week of January 20th
*Reality* As he awoke, Mike realized the figure standing over him was very unhappy. “Where were you last night?” growled his mother impatiently. “A friend’s house,” he lied, still half asleep. “You couldn’t have asked permission first?” “No, she needed help and someone to talk to: badly,” he half-lied. “I had to go over there on the spur of the moment.” “You didn’t even leave a note!” “I told you, Mom, spur of the moment.” “I don’t care! I was worried about you! You need to let me know next time!” Realizing that it was escalating rather quickly, he decided to switch to some of his more advanced acting/lying skills. “Mom, she was thinking suicide, alright!” “Oh,” she said more quietly. “Okay… tell me you at least finished your homework?” she pleaded. Good, it worked, as usual. Might as well keep it up, I doubt she’ll actually check on that… “Yeah, it was a lot, but I managed barely to finish,” he stated glumly to keep the charade underway. But apparently, he wasn’t the only one with doubts. “Okay, let me see, then.” He shamefully pulled his notebooks and worksheets out of his bag and handed them to his mother. After a minute with his head bowed in shame, she returned him the materials. “Okay, I’m satisfied, and surprised, but make sure it gets handed in correctly.” His head shot up, awestruck. He hadn’t done it, so how was it finished? Between his acting and trying really hard, he managed to conceal his surprise from his mother and received his stuff with a dull “Okay.” But he was flabbergasted. His mom walked out, and he carefully slipped his things into his bag. Yet, as he did so, he noted, well, a note in his bag that he hadn’t put there. It read: “Sorry for any inconvenience I or my men have caused you as compensation, all of your homework that was incomplete has been fabricated to match your handwriting. Thank you for any help you have provided. Sincerely, Neil Phillip Collins.” He must have been the leader of the suited SWAT guys or whatever they were. They helped me recover from that gel; now that stuff was definitely an inconvenience. But they may still be playing some sort of angle. Whatever. They did my homework, so I’ll deal with them later if they are a problem. He woke up the rest of the way, and began to get ready for his assuredly slow Thursday. ***Natalie*** Natalie awoke to find herself in her bed upstairs, rather than the couch downstairs, where she had fallen asleep. She was slightly puzzled, but it didn’t last long when she took a look at her clock, seeing that she was up an hour before her bus would come. That’s good for a change. She began with a shower, scrubbing hard to clear her pores of the sweat residue from the previous day. After she got out, she dried off and put on some fresh, clean clothes. She’d decided to wear bright colors for the day, including her orange top that revealed some of her shoulder. Then she went down to the kitchen and made herself breakfast: two eggs and a piece of toast, and a glass of apple juice to wash it down. She took her time and enjoyed it. It was seldom that she ever had time to allocate for breakfast. She checked her watch, which she wore on the inside of her wrist, and saw that she still had twenty-two minutes before the bus driver, Linda, would punctually arrive at the end of her driveway. So she plopped down on the couch and switched on her TV. She then used her other remote to change the input to “Video 1,” where she currently had her video game running, on the same position it had been on when Mike had visited yesterday. She un-paused it, played through the level, and saved-and-quit. Then she tried to make an avatar for her newfound “close friend.” But every one of the six times she tried to make him, it ended up looking demented. So she turned it off and went out with about eight minutes to wait. With the light hoodie she was wearing on top of her shirt, the cool autumn air felt wonderful and refreshing. The sun was rising, and the fluffy cumulus clouds looked very nice it that light. She kicked back on the porch to wait the last few minutes, marveling at the wonderful sensory stimuli that surrounded her. She let her eyes rest for a minute on the bright red car that rested on the driveway. Despite being an only child, and her parents occasionally driving it to make sure it still worked, the car had never quite felt like it was hers. It was brand new and bought specifically for her, it currently just sat there. But come Saturday, that will all change. After a few more minutes, where her thoughts drifted to future dream trips, the bus arrived, right on time. She hopped on and took up residence in her usual seat seventeen. She decided to herself that it would be a very calm, relaxed day. She was very wrong.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Jan 29, 2015 22:59:18 GMT -5
Week of January 27th
***Mike*** By the time lunch rolled around, Mike was already exhausted, as well as hungry enough to devour the cafeteria food free of complaint. But he was satisfied with the ratio of homework he received to homework that was assigned. And he was certain that no homework would be assigned in his remaining classes, all of which he shared with Natalie, Zach, and Emily. They were leisure classes for the most part, which meant that he could spend most of the time socializing with them, and maybe even the new kid in their art class. But his mind at this point began to go back to his dreams, utterly boggling him that all of a sudden he had begun to actually have them, whereas before, he hadn’t any dreams to speak of. He was also shocked at the fact that both had been vivid and connected to each other. Was there something in that dart? Or did it mean something? As he pondered, weak and weary, (As Edgar Allan Poe would have said) he lost track of time, and before he knew it, the bell signaled him to go to Government. “Pull out your court assignment sheets,” said the teacher. “We are going to continue our weekly packet. Today we are doing something a lot like yesterday’s activity. Michael, Helen, Anthony, Nicolas, and Serena, you will be prosecutors today, supporting the people of Gotham City. Natalie, Simon, Sarah, Zachary, John, and Leah, you will be defending Batman against accusations by the state. The case is that of political vandalism during a fight with Bane.” He began passing out packets containing all the information. “These are your Bibles for today’s activity. Winning side gets ten bonus points added to the seventy-five point project.” Michael was glad to have Helen and Nicolas on his team; they were good in that class. But he was disappointed at being separated from the rest of his friends. He was also unhappy that it wouldn’t be a leisure day as he expected. And worse, he was designated to start it off… “Citizens of the city of Gotham, I implore you to look at these images here,” Mike announced as he flipped through a projector slideshow of explosions inside and outside a tall building with the Great Seal plastered above the door. Adjacent was a multi-level floor plan of the building. “What you see here is a mass of explosions caused by projectiles from the defendant’s Batplane. As you see in this picture, the building in question does not have a gas line, and instead relies on electricity from the solar panels on the roof to heat and power itself. By this, it can be inferred and presumed that the explosions were created and intentionally caused by the defendant, and this is also corroborated by forensics’ analysis of nitroglycerine molecules left lingering at the scene.” He held up a forensics report. “Now, granted, this did occur during a Bane rampage, but a man with enough money to afford all of these gadgets and a custom-made suit should have no trouble fund more fortification and security at Arkham Asylum, where all of the villains cycle in and out frequently. Even Bruce Wayne wouldn’t be stupid enough to let such an option go overlooked. And with the resources and money he possesses, you’d think at least he should try to find another way of incapacitating Bane, or any villain, for that matter, that doesn’t involve widespread destruction to the facilities we need for our city to run properly, or as properly as one can in a city filled with supervillains. Thank you.” And with his part in the story completed, he returned to his seat to join the rest of the class in spectatorship.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Feb 4, 2015 21:02:33 GMT -5
Week of February 2nd, 2015
As it were, his group ended up actually winning the case, with him having provided ample proof interpreted from the evidence to convict batman, and using reasoning beyond what was provided, all combined with a flair of his skill for acting. He ended up with full credit, plus the bonus. Everyone, including him, was shocked. For the rest of class, he was the subject of discussion, which was okay, but the rest of the class was for the most part people of substantially lower intelligence, so it was quite expected. For him, the speech only counted as another turn of the hourglass. The next significant event he would note in his notebook later was that the bell rang and they all moved on to Workshop. ***Natalie*** Natalie was spaced out as she auto-piloted her way through the hallway to Workshop, right behind Michael and next to Zach. Neither of them said a word to each other, preferring instead to contemplate silently the sudden burst of genius their friend had just had in the previous class, so unusually brilliant, yet he had shrugged it off as if it was nothing. She sighed aloud. They arrived at Workshop seconds before the bell. Natalie, Zach, Mike, Emily, and Natalie’s friend May all sat at the same table. The teacher there, Mr. Burns, had a policy, under which they were allowed to sit wherever they pleased, so long as they got their projects done and paid attention when necessary. So the little rag tag group of five sat attentive while Mr. Burns outlined their project for that particular class. That day, they would be making an electrical circuit to power the wooden robot pieces they had made earlier in the week. Finally, something that wasn’t made to look neat. However, Natalie had lately been learning to make her failed projects look like they were supposed to, though with a little more glitter than called for. But she was relieved to put up the charade, at last having a chance to make something that functioned, rather than sat there and looked pretty. She just needed to watch her voltage. Five minutes in, she realized she had underestimated the project. She couldn’t comprehend how her wires managed to look like a tangled heap of scrap metal, far from the blueprint, while the others at the table were lining everything up perfectly. Zach was even getting ready to assemble it onto the robot. Being completely new to the insides of electronics, she felt no shame in asking for help. “Can one of you show me how to use this, um, soldering stuff?” she asked, a little whinier than intended. To her surprise, it was Zach who answered. She had thought him too wrapped up in his own project to hear anything other than the gears whirring in his head. “Here, like this,” he explained. He picked up her soldering iron and touched the tip of it to the metal gently, melting the tin to the circuit board, effectively finishing her first wire for her. “Jeez! Where’d you learn this?” Natalie questioned. “Dad’s a mechanic,” he replied. But something about the way he said it made Natalie think. What did she actually know about her friend and secondary crush? She resolved to keep up a conversation and learn as much as she could, whether it was a suspicious lie or not. Those areas would just be subject for more prying. “A mechanic? Where does he work?” “Why do you ask?”
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Post by Reactinator304 on Feb 16, 2015 1:23:36 GMT -5
Week of February 9th, 2015
“I’ve had to use a push mower for a long time since the motor on the riding mower crapped out. I could seriously use mechanic help with that,” she lied. The emphasis she put on her sentence was so good, in fact, that, had she not had her guard up to ensnare his lies, she may have believed her own. “Well, he’s kind of out of a job at the moment, but he does small jobs out of our garage.” “Okay, where do you live?” “That little area just off of South Hampton Street, gray house across from the pizza place.” That was a truth, Natalie thought. “Okay, I know what you mean. That’s a nice neighborhood.” “Not really, the police busted a meth lab three houses away not a month ago.” Another solid truth. “That was there?” “Yeah, police tape was up for days ‘til they could finish getting all of the hazardous materials out of there. They took forever!” “How did that affect you?” she asked, noting that it annoyed him. “Well, I had to walk here for a week because they had the road backed up. It was a pain! I just wish they would get better at their jobs. At this rate, I would be fit to replace them.” “Yes, but would you want to?” “Hell, no. I plan to be an engineer, make things that don’t need to be cleaned up after, which is more than you can say for people…” “Explains why you like this class so much,” she maintained, hazarding a guess that he might slip up a little and lead her down the path to whatever it was he was hiding. “This class was made – no, engineered – for me. I’ve got big plans when it comes to the ‘make your own’ project. How about a heated wrist brace-” he stopped himself short. He had revealed something, as Natalie had been hoping, but while he may have felt he gave away too much, she had no clue what “heated wrist brace” had that was special enough to hide. But for some reason, Michael took an interest in the notion. He had even cut his conversation with Emily and May about the story he was reading short to intercede on her and Zach.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Feb 16, 2015 1:24:26 GMT -5
Week of February 16th, 2015
***Mike*** Michael’ mind was on an alert of code red, hearing an object from his dream mentioned by the person who used it within. He had seen such a thing on the wrist of Zachary in his dream, where it had shot brilliant white fireballs. But despite his alarm, Mike pulled it off coolly. “Yeah!” He encouraged. “Knowing you, you could probably even make it shoot fireballs or something like that!” Right away, he saw that this made Zach uneasy, as well as Natalie surprised, to see his uneasiness. “Well, it’d be cool, but to be realistic, how on Earth would I ever store enough fuel to shoot a fireball?” “Just run a fuel line along your wrist, and put some fuel tanks on your back.” At this, Zach winced. “Do you have any idea how much that would cost?” “For fireballs, it’d be worth the extra. And at that rate, you could go all out and add some dye to color the flames. You could do blue, purple, even white.” In response to this, Zach’s face turned pale, his brow furrowed, and his frown deepened. But Mike knew his friend, and knew he would call the bluff. “You’ve seen something like this before, haven’t you?” Zach asked cautiously. “I guess you could say that. It makes for a spectacular sight. Go for it. You would be the one to pull it off.” Zach loosened up a bit, just as Michael had planned. But Michael became the worried one now, a fact he didn’t let show, worried that the events of his dreams could and would take place. “Alright, I’ll give it a shot,” he declared. “After all, if it still doesn’t work, none of the designs will impede with my simple heating design that I’ve already got blueprints for. I’ll at least get credit for that.” It was about that time that Mr. Burns walked over to their table to check progress. “I hear someone’s ready for the independent assignment,” he said. “But don’t get too excited, I haven’t even given you guidelines yet, and you have to be careful if you’re going to try a fire-themed project, just so you don’t destroy something or injure someone.” “I kinda figured that out, Mr. Burns,” Zach interrupted. By him doing so, he drew Mr. Burns’s attention to his project. “Wow, you managed to get it right the first day! But does it work?” In response, Zach pointedly pushed the button on the back of the robot. Instantly it began to walk back and forth, moving its arms slightly as if trying to dance. Mike was astounded. He hadn’t given it any thought, but Zach had been working all the way through the conversation. But Zach, contrary to the rest of the table, was unpleased. He snatched the robot up, un-soldered and re-soldered a wire, and set it back down. This time, it did dance. Now the whole class was gathering around the table to see it. Multiple jaws dropped in response to a wooden robot with a limited circuit board performing a fully choreographed dance routine right before their eyes. Mike was simply puzzled. He had seen stranger, or rather, not seen and dreamed stranger because of stranger. He just hoped he was wrong and that neither of his friends would be forced to see the same thing. But what really puzzled him, was what qualified Zach for a special talent, as anyone could use a flamethrower, especially someone trained for just that. So why Zach? Even by loose definition, “superhero” refers to someone or something that is beyond human capabilities and uses them for good. And Mike was sure that the term “superhero” was very deliberate and carefully chosen. And for that matter, why was he even present in the dream? Was there some power inside of him that he didn’t recognize? Nah. He dismissed the idea as rubbish. Besides, he didn’t have much time to allocate to the thought, as the next bell rang, and to the class’s discontent, it was time for Zach to pack up the robot and them all to move on to the final class of the day. For Mike and the rest of the clan, this final class was art.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Mar 4, 2015 19:02:54 GMT -5
Week of February 23rd
In Art class, the seating arrangement was very similar, in that it was exactly the same, except that it had been assigned that way (big mistake on Mrs. Kelton’s behalf), and that in place of May, they had the new kid, by the name of Sid. And so, as with every other day, they sat there quietly, and waited for the teacher to arrive. Usually, she was down at the teachers’ lounge making herself one last cup of coffee to last her one more period. And, routinely, the students were expected to pull out their sketchbooks and draw a new artwork for ten points (plus two potential bonus points if it was colored and finished by the next day), while they awaited her return. All of the class but the new kid complied, until the new kid saw what everyone else was doing, and so he felt obliged to follow suit. Lacking a notebook didn’t discourage him, he simply grabbed a sheet of printer paper from the recycling bin and sat down with his pencil in hand. Immediately he began to draw, with intense attention to detail and accuracy. Michael glanced over and immediately recognized a three-dimensional view of two characters from his favorite fighting game ever created. The image was only outlines thus far, but as Sid continued, Mike wondered where he could find a Game controller to try and see if it was playable. “That’s amazing! Are you a fan of Contender?” “Not just, it just happens to be easy to draw, especially compared to my favorite game.” “You consider this easy?!?” “Yeah, sort of. I’ve tried to draw the same shot multiple times, but each time it ends up looking like crap because the proportions are so far off. This time, I happen to be using a really good pencil.” Mike wasn’t sure what to add to that, so he changed the subject. “So what brings you to this humble little town?” “Business. My dad’s moving up to a job working on electric pylons. We had to move here clear from Colorado for it, but it’s a really good job, and he’s making a lot of money.” “And it sounds like a cool job.” “I guess so, but he’s never home anymore.” “I know how you feel, I’ve got the same issue with both of my parents. But my annoying older sister always fills the void.” “Man, I wish I had a sibling. Being an only kid sucks!” “Yeah, but you know, there’s two sayings about that. One is that the grass is always greener on the other side, the other is that you have to be careful what you wish for.”
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Post by Reactinator304 on Mar 4, 2015 19:04:01 GMT -5
Week of March 3, 2015 *Y'know what, we should make this game. it'd be fun. Are you all listening? Someone get on that!***
Michael realized he had seen this kid somewhere before. He had, however, no clue where. But he knew for sure he wanted to keep in touch. “Do you play any online games?” he asked. “Yeah. Only one, my favorite game. Have you ever heard of Court of Legendary Knights?” “Are you serious?!? I thought I was the only one who plays that game! You want to ally later?” “Sure. What’s your username?” “PoisedVenom2327. Yours?” “DigitalKid1414.” They smiled at each other, and Mike got the feeling that this was the start of a long, beautiful, and clichéd friendship. He didn’t know the half of it. ***Zach*** The first thing Zach noticed during that day was that his friend was really distracted and had a short attention span, more so than usual; quite unusual, actually. The second thing was that Mike and Natalie were both prying a lot that day, and touching on his personal life. Mike and Natalie? Now there’s a scary thought… But he couldn’t deny that he had seen her looking at him fondly. What is going on between those two? He shuddered. Lastly, he saw that Mike was taking a liking to the new kid, whom he hadn’t even thought to say hi to. Instead, he said something more along the lines of: “Will you two keep quiet? I can hear Mrs. Kelton’s footsteps in the hallway!” “Oh, don’t mind Zach, he’s a bit uptight,” Mike explained to the kid. “But he is right, we really should be quiet at the moment. Mrs. Kelton doesn’t like us talking until she takes attendance. That way, any afternoon announcements can be heard. After attendance, we can start talking again.” And so the class went silent again - well, as silent as twenty-two scrawling pencils could be. Two minutes later, Mrs. Kelton walked back into the classroom. The footsteps they had heard before hadn’t been her, but instead turned out to be a janitor heading down to the boiler room. But now the real art teacher had arrived, hyper as a Chihuahua from her seventh cup of coffee that day. First thing she did was hop on her computer, not even looking up to take a swig of coffee, which she did from time to time. Zach had no idea what she was looking at on the computer, but his eyes, as well as a few other sets around the room, occasionally glanced her direction. He hoped she would be quick and begin class already, yet at the same time, the quiet was somewhat refreshing, to the point where he became lost in his own thoughts. This lasted until he was painfully shocked back to reality by the loudspeaker crackling to life. It uttered an announcement as garbled as the marching band playing three songs at once with mutes in every instrument. But thankfully, by then the students in the room were accustomed to it. They all listened well and translated the message silently to Standard English. Teachers, please excuse this interruption. Just a reminder to check your mailboxes at the end of the day. Also, please place your recycle bins outside your rooms for the janitors to pick them up. Thank you, and have a nice afternoon.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Mar 7, 2015 23:07:44 GMT -5
Yeah, so, Reax isn't on here at the moment, and I'm anxious to get moving on the story already. I'm sick of being stuck in art class. It's boring. So let's move on, alright?
Week of March 10, 2015
This prompted nine hands to shoot up in the air with the intention of being picked by the teacher to take the recycling bin to the hallway, but instead, she signaled to Zach, who didn’t even volunteer. He pointed at himself and raised his eyebrows in question. She responded with a terse head nod, and returned her gaze to her screen. Zach sighed, then went to take out the recycling. The announcement had said outside your rooms, but for their art room in the basement, it was a bit further than that. He had to carry the blue bin, full to the brim with newspapers and scrap paper, up the steps, down the hall, and to the spot by Miss Grace’s room. He would also have to come back for it when it was empty. When he returned to the room, Mrs. K had already started attendance. He walked over to his seat and sat down quietly. Just in time, because she called his name next. He promptly responded with a slick raise of his hand and an utterance of “Here!” “Natalie?” “Here!” “Truman?” “Present!” “Charlie?” “Here!” “Alright. It looks like we’re all here. And now I’d like you to welcome a new student, who apparently has decided to sit with the chatty table.” This incited a few seconds during which the whole class laughed at her little quip about her pet name for their table. She even joined in the laughing a little. “Please welcome Sid Sparks,” she declared once the laughing had died down. Unexpectedly, Sid stood up and gave the class a wave. Even less expectedly, many of them returned it. Then he sat down again, and class began. She started off by looking at the class’s artworks. Zach had drawn a little, but realized now that his thoughts and reverie did not help him to finish it as expected. His unfinished drawing was supposed to resemble a moonscape, but instead resembled a rough, chipped, swirly bowling ball, and neither he nor the teacher was satisfied with it. “Come on, Zach. You had ten minutes! I expected more from you!” “I’m sorry, I was a little distracted.” “Finish it up by the end of class and show me, and I’ll still give you credit.” “Okay.” She walked away then, surveying other projects and commenting, all the while taking notes on her little notepad. “Looks like someone just got chewed out,” Mike snickered at him. “I was distracted, okay!”
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Post by Reactinator304 on Mar 15, 2015 18:53:25 GMT -5
Week of March 17th, 2015 “Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” He glanced over at the poorly drawn moon that Zach was still trying to touch up. “What is that even supposed to be?” “A moon,” Zach replied sourly. “It looks like a neutron star to me,” Emily interjected. “No need to get technical and all astronomical with me,” he grumbled. “Well, I want to major in astronomy, and I’m just saying that’s what it looks like to me. Sorry if I irritated you, grumpy. At least I’m not being an ass about it like Michael.” Mike, who had been snickering to himself thinking about his earlier comment, instantly shut his mouth. I guess it bites to have the girl you like call you an ass, Zach thought. It was obvious that he liked Emily, even to her, but she pretended not to notice, trying to play hard to get. Mike just needed to get up the nerve to ask her out already. Not that he didn’t have nerve, his drawing was bad too; but he never got the guts to deal with and talk to a girl he liked. And the girls that liked him were frustrated when he ended up talking to them like old friends because it was so obvious. But Zach didn’t have the nerve or energy to devote to dating. He had bigger fish to fry. And none of them would consider him likable, or even human, if they got too close to him. This came back to the flamethrower idea. He winced, worried about his own safety and sanity. He looked back, for the first time in months, to the most vivid memory he possessed. He had been twelve at the time, and by then learned to keep secrets that might get him into trouble. But he had always wondered about the possibility (and pretense of exciting television-induced fanaticism), that he might be special, destined for something. Once, his parents had hired a palm reader to try and discern his future from such details. The mystic had been baffled to see a perfect spiral star of creases in his skin in the middle of each palm, and immediately deduced that this kid was special. But he had treated the patterns on his hands with a strong sense of curiosity, always tracing the opposite hand with a finger. The center of the spiral felt soft or thin-skinned, and tingled every time he touched it. He couldn’t help but satisfy his curiosity by feeling the center of the spiral and lingering there. Along with the tingle came an itch, and so he felt inclined to scratch, applying a bit more pressure than just lightly tracing, and the skin there always seemed to depress slightly when he did so. Looking back, he felt guilty, almost as if the experience had been felt in some sort of an awkward pleasure. But one time, he decided to intentionally apply more pressure to it. Along with a jolt of pain, the fragments of skin that made up the spiral pattern folded inward, revealing a hollow tube in his palm that he knew wasn’t supposed to be there. The pain was soon replaced by an extreme itch and a convulsion of the muscles in his palm. A second later, he was gagging and retching from a puff of air that exited the tube and smelled as if it was a thousand years in the making. Once he recovered from the shocking stench, he realized his hand had closed up again. He never told his parents, or anyone else, for that matter, and he always wore fingerless gloves or kept his hands dirty to conceal the spiral and keep it a secret. Over time, he learned to open the canal with the muscles in his palm only. He also learned, by an accident involving a candle, that the gas it emitted was extremely flammable, and burned with a brilliant white hue that sparkled as it burned, like a million tiny twinkling stars. And every time it seemed he ran out of energy to control the dust, he passed out, and the dream that ensued seemed to rejuvenate him. It was always the same dream, though.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Mar 25, 2015 15:48:01 GMT -5
Week of March 24th, 2015
He would find himself in a black, empty nothingness, empty except for a small object no larger than a child’s fist, whitish, and glowing the same effect and intensity of his sparkling fire. It looked to him like a small moon. In the dream, a deep voice he could only recognize as his own, though much older, was speaking. The voice gave him instructions as follows: “Zachary… Raise your hand up to the sphere.” He complied, putting his faith in, well, in himself. His hand was now level with the mini-moon. “Now open your hand,” the voice coaxed. “But it is open!” Zach complained, straining his fingers until they were firmly outstretched. “Not what I meant,” said the voice. “I mean open it.” He nervously allowed the passageway open. But this time he noticed a small tendril of silver particles leave the orb and enter his hand, getting thicker until the stream was clearly visible. With them came a burst of exhilarating energy. And just like that the dream ended. ***Natalie*** “Zach…Zach…hello-o.” It was no use. For a whole three minutes he’d been staring down at his drawing with a blank expression on his face, lost in thought. But she could tell from minor details that showed in his features that the thoughts were things he didn’t want to share, and confirmed her suspicion that he had something to hide. Something big. She knew the expression from feeling it in her own face, and it had always been her subconscious reaction to shielding her secrets. Now she was getting anxious to figure him out. And who could blame her anyhow? She just couldn’t figure anything out if the object of her attentions was busy daydreaming. And she didn’t want his daydreaming to interfere with getting his drawing done either, as a good friend certainly would feel about another’s health. She reached past Emily and tapped him on the shoulder. It had little to no effect. But the lotion she had on her hands smelled sickeningly sweet, enough to at least partially wake him up. The rest of the way was traversed by a couple snaps of her fingers right in front of his face. Thankfully, he finally arose from his subconscious mind, heralded by blinking and shaking his head. “Wha-? What’s going on?” he asked quietly, still subdued. “You fell asleep… You should get that drawing finished.” “Okay. Thanks for waking me up.” She was about to reply, but before she could, something caught her ear from another table’s conversation. She wasn’t normally one to eavesdrop, but talk at the table behind her was extremely interesting and hit a pressure point in her curiosity. “…in the news last night?” asked one girl. “Yeah, why?” asked another. “Oh, I saw that! You mean that ninja thing?” responded a third. “Yeah. Crazy right? I heard he shows up out of nowhere!” Natalie sighed. This talk she was hearing was no more complex than cheesy storybook gossip. But the information told her she needed to keep listening. Somehow, she got that the information pertained to her in some way. So she continued to listen to the cheap dialogue in an effort to appease herself. “Who did you hear that from?” “My cousin saw him go by leaving the police station. He works there.” “Oh, I thought the news reporter said something like that.” “Not really, he just said he was quick.” “I don’t know what all he said. I was too busy paying attention to…him.” “Oh, I know, right? He is SO dreamy…”
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Post by Reactinator304 on Mar 31, 2015 8:46:00 GMT -5
Week of March 31st, 2015
My goodness, Natalie thought. Nothing left to find out here… She would resort to looking up the news story on the internet when she got home. She regretted not having seen the news story when it aired, but she was glad that the events that had kept her busy had occurred. And she had even begun to think that the letter would be in her best interest to send. As she turned around, she caught a glimpse of Mike halfway through her turn. He was still facing the same group she had been, still listening intently. So he had heard it too. She was inclined to think it was coincidence, but knew better that it was too strange for coincidence. She and Mike had both felt the conversation at the other table was significant enough to pay attention to. And by the same odd chance, she was sure they had both come to the same conclusion: this was super business. *An Hour Later* After a long ride on the bus, Natalie and Mike both got off at her house. Mike had sent his mom a lengthy text that talked about someone being suicidal, and that Natalie wasn’t that someone. Her best guess was that it was a cover-up lie for the previous evening. And she appreciated it. He had also told his mom that the two of them would be studying together at her house that evening. In truth, they would be looking for any and all information concerning the “ninja” that was mentioned in class that day. They had both missed it for the same reason, but said reason was the difference between “they” and “she” or “he,” and for that she was glad. The closer they got, the stronger the term “they” became. And this being the first time he would actually enter her home, she knew she was taking very large steps in a direction she had long wanted to go, toward an outcome she desperately wanted. She instructed Mike to set his stuff down on the couch: the same couch she had slept on for a part of the previous night. Meanwhile, she quickly ran upstairs to her room to deposit her own stuff. She set her bag on her bed and hung her jacket on one of the hooks on her smooth, dark red walls. For a moment, she glanced about her room. After having lived there six years, only recently was it really feeling like home to her. Her admiration didn’t last very long though, and she came back to reality with the acknowledgement that she had a guest downstairs. She unplugged her laptop from its charger, picked it up, took one last look at her room, and turned toward the door. But three steps from the door, she stopped. She had remembered something in her pocket that should’ve been put in a safe place. She set her computer down on her bed for a moment and removed a folded sheet of paper. Then she unfolded it, revealing a beautiful white moon-like object that glowed. Zachary had finished his artwork, and after receiving his credit, he had given it to her. His logic had been that she cared about the artwork more than he did. He had downplayed the fact that it was him she was caring for, not the art. But the way he’d gone about making the gesture was sweet, and until afterward, he revealed nothing of the lack of care for his own work. She set the artwork down on her desk with the resolution that she would hang it on her wall later, and as she had prepared to minutes earlier, she went back downstairs.
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Post by Mana on Apr 8, 2015 13:31:21 GMT -5
Week of April 8th, 2015(i think)
Coming back to the TV room, she found she hadn’t given her guest instructions to sit down , as was customary for a host to do. So instead of sitting, she found him pacing back and forth. She felt ashamed, which none of his assurances could negate. It was no wonder he had never noticed her feelings for him before. But moments later discussion had quickly transitioned to what they planned to do. First things first, she popped up laptop open and searched their local news channel’s website, as the reporter they had been talking about, according to Mike, only broadcast from that channel. The reporter, Harvey Gordon, had uncovered and witnessed the happenings himself, and only ever reported locally, due to his drive to make the town known on the world map. That, and the fact that he couldn’t get access to any higher positions. She found the cast quickly, as in the short twenty-one-and-a-half hours; it had reached strong internet popularity, generating no less than eight hundred thirty-five thousand views. For one day, that was unheard of. “Mike, check this out!” she exclaimed. It had to be the video they were looking for, as the posting party was the channel itself. The bottom of the screen in the bookmark photo scrolled the words “IS HIDDEN NINJA A CRIMINAL OR A HERO?” Mike walked over and sat down next to her, causing her to imperceptibly blush. Nevertheless, she retained composure, and turned the laptop slightly so he could see as well. “That’s good,” he said as the computer got to an acceptable angle. She nodded, and started the video. It had been clipped out of a recording of the program, but most of the info was still fresh. “BRRREAKING NEWS!!!” the announcer yelled. After the short three second intro scene, the screen showed the studio that the news usually showed, but empty of people. A few seconds later, Harvey Gordon, News Channel 9, the chief news-breaker, walked in and sat behind the desk. Although he walked and sat calmly, it was obvious he had been rushing before he got in the room. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Harvey Gordon here, from News Channel Nine. Tonight, I’ve got a special news story guaranteed to surprise each and every one of you. Earlier this afternoon, a few civilians in the downtown area caught sight of a figure moving around on the rooftop of an electronics store. They worried that he might be a robber. What you see here,” he said, alluding to the video images going on beside him on the screen, “is a video shot by a civilian on the scene with his phone. Now, in a few seconds, if it’s not up yet, you’re going to see the police show up due to a noise complaint about the scene from earlier. The noise complaint was filed prior to the figure showing up on the roof, and it turned out a robbery was going on inside from someone else, who we are unsure whether they are affiliated with the figure. We still don’t know whether he was there to stop the criminals or to join them, but I’m inclined to think the former, because when the police breached the building, they found the robbers tied up. But there were many cell phones and cameras missing from the shop. Just a few minutes ago now, however, the cameras and phones showed up in a sack on the chief of police’s desk, as well as – get this – a larger man wrapped and bound like the other robbers. This man has been on the run for months, ID-d as Ja’Kwan Ragas, the missing suspect from July’s ‘Seagull Case.’ He will be expected to finally testify, ending the two-and-a-half month relapse. We also do not know whether the police will add the hidden person to the dangerous persons list or not, but at the moment they are questioning witnesses and robbers alike. Most names have not been disclosed yet, but police say once they are done they are allowing the criminals to speak to the media. And all of them are willing to do so. And finally, the reason I was a minute late, I was collecting a video recording from a friend of mine who happened to be on another rooftop not far away with his girlfriend, and got a recording on his smart phone. Here he got the thing leaving the roof of the police station, with really good HD quality and a steady hand, too. We zoomed in on a picture of him, and here it is.” He gestured to the screen beside him, where the picture was displayed prominently. “The figure appears male, wearing silver and black ninja-like garb, and he slides across the rooftops like quicksilver. So in the end, we want to know. What do you think about this mess? Is the ninja a hero or a villain? What do you think will happen to Ragas? Follow my thread on #ninjanight. And that’s it for Breaking News. Good night everybody.”
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Post by Reactinator304 on Apr 15, 2015 21:57:04 GMT -5
Week of 4/14/2015 *thanks for filling it in last week, Mana. You did well*
“Well, what’re your thoughts, Natalie?” Mike asked. “I don’t think this guy is all that special, just a vigilante. If he shows himself to be more than that, I’m sure the agents will get him. This was all over the news and the internet, so they had to have seen it. I don’t want to get involved. I haven’t figured out any ways I can help out, anyway. I won’t be of service.” “You could try anyway. It’s worth a shot…” Mike reassured. “No, I don’t want to. If I try to go in there, the suits will assume I’m on board and accept their plan, and at the moment, I really don’t. And I won’t have my abilities under control, either. It’s hard enough to focus on an illusion or decoy as it is; if my life is threatened, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to maintain control.” “Is it really that hard to focus on? You said it was just like flexing a muscle,” Mike questioned. “Well, not completely, but the headaches that come with it are hell to put up with.” Mike winced, but she didn’t want his sympathy, she just wanted emotional support. Some part of her did want to go and take this…mission. But she was not about to risk her life to prove herself. What was there to even prove? And to whom would she be trying to prove it? She was sure she wanted a normal life, or at least as normal as she could be, with her powers in her life. Which brought her to speculate on something she hadn’t in a while. Where did her powers come from, and why her? ***Mike*** So. This ninja thing. It was big news. But Natalie, Mike sensed, wanted absolutely no part in it. He couldn’t blame her, but he couldn’t say he would express the same opinion under these circumstances. If it were him with the superpowers, he would have run in there gung-ho (Probably getting himself killed in the process, too), but it wasn’t his decision to make, and it was a girl at the helm. He had no idea how unpredictable she could be: especially with superhuman abilities in tow. He knew none of this, and it left him feeling useless. He was just a mortal, human weakling, who only served as his choice between target practice and a surveyor to all the events that happened simultaneously with his life. His friends and family always had something important to do, and nine times out of ten, he was left on the sidelines with no purpose, which usually resulted in him sitting alone in his room playing some sort of videogame.
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Post by Reactinator304 on Apr 21, 2015 15:52:57 GMT -5
Week of April 21st, 2015 *Landmark Update - as of now, I have exactly 56,000 words in the storyline. that is quite a few. And still haven't brought the entire group into one yet...
Why do I have to be such a recluse? he wondered. Then the thought of him picking on his buddy Zach earlier came to mind. He put his friend in a position of lowliness every day, and yet Zach still put up with him and called him “friend.” Contrary to what many believed, Mike wasn’t lonely because he picked on people, it was the other way around. He was so attention-starved that he was getting desperate. Worse, he was painfully aware of this. Yet he was still going about it the wrong way. Worse still, now that he was receiving the long-craved attention (from Natalie), the foreign sensation scared him to the point where reclusion was seeming really nice this time of year, as a place to hide from his emotions. In order to do so, he would need to leave and head for home. In turn, that required he shove the hard work off on the hired agents. After all, fancy suits and gear don’t buy themselves… “Well, then I guess we will just leave it to the professionals.” The word “we” stuck in his throat a moment, and when it finally came out of his mouth, by his especially the sense troubled him. Fact of the matter and a major truth was that she was leagues ahead of him, and he was leagues away from having anything useful to contribute to even warrant there being a “we.” Such dreams of being special never amounted to more than just that: dreams. No, the reason “we” even existed was due to her wanting an excuse for being with him. She could have just played the old “you were dreaming” trick on him the previous night. The agents had already left, and there was nothing to show as evidence that any of it had happened, but she still told him the truth. What she saw in him was a mystery to him. If thinking little of oneself were an art, Mike would have painted a masterpiece by now, years in the making and still halfway done. Just how low could he go? At least for now, his importance status had been promoted. He was now Mike Magnolia, Superhero Consultant. Sadly and ironically enough, the thought of his lowliness unceremoniously being raised to such a height did a number on his self-pity. He was in serious need of alone time. At the very least, if he didn’t boost his self-esteem or calm himself down, he will have had time to think over some of the very large decisions that were coming his way. He picked up his book bag. “I guess so. You gonna head home?” she asked, her mood shifting drastically from upbeat to longing. “Yeah. I’ve still got homework to do,” he mused. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she sighed. “Alright. See ya.” And he walked out the door. The “homework” he was talking about was far from it. He was actually talking about hopping on the PC to play C.O.L.K. with Sid, as per their earlier arrangements. After a round our two (Or like seventeen) of “Team Deathmatch,” which was definitely Sid’s strong suit, Mike decided that sleep was calling to him, and he imagined his game avatar’s animation of dying and falling to the ground applied to him as he fell into bed, and was out like a light.
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Post by Mana on May 1, 2015 19:30:26 GMT -5
Week of April 28th, 2015 ((bit longer than norm, but wanted to get some of Natalie in there. deal with it)) *** *** The night air was exhilarating to feel yet again. After all, were it not for the pleasantries of the evenings, it was likely he would never leave his home. But that was not the case, and he lived for the free evenings. Not even the recent risk of people getting involved in his life would ruin his joy. He couldn’t help it if he was a sketchy person, he simply was. But he was disappointed that he hadn’t stuck around to get the policemen’s reactions. Nope, instead, he had to resort to the news for all his information. This being said, he’d been spotted: Twice. But nothing could keep him away from his self-proclaimed duty. The city was getting messy enough as it was, and the cops were too underfunded to act alone: that’s where he came in. And the disguise missions were the best. He could disguise himself as an appliance, an employee, even the money itself. He never understood it himself (And it’s a spoiler, so don’t expect me to explain this one), but thankfully, neither did his suspects. But in exchange for his suspects becoming higher profile, he was also getting higher profile for catching them, getting attention where people needn’t be sticking their noses. The one part of publicity he did like, though, was being given a name, and a purpose to work by. The reporter had said he moved like quicksilver. Then Quicksilver I shall be, he thought. The word had nailed him spot on, and it had a nice ring to it. No one but he knew how well it applied. And he would keep it that way. But for the time being, he would have to lie low and take on smaller missions for the rest of the evening, just to avert attention. What a bore. Tonight he was only going after a small time robber. He would just make sure he wouldn’t get caught. But what he didn’t know was that there was a pair of eyes watching him slip through the shadows. ***Natalie*** The next morning, despite waking up a tad later than usual, Natalie was very excited and very much alive. That is, until she realized it was still not Saturday yet. And on that note, she had dug a grave for herself for that day. Expecting it a day ahead of time meant she would be thinking about it all day. So long to good test scores in her classes that day. She had them coming in math and science, and, her focus being unattainable, she would certainly flunk both. Today is going to suck, she thought. It was especially disheartening to find that, early in the morning, she had already ruined her own Friday: the one day of the week that she held sacred. She applied her grumpiness to every class that day, preferring to sulk in the shadows of the room, and on the brink of being totally alone. But eventually her pessimism caught the attention of her friends.What’s on your mind, Natalie?” May asked her. “I’ve still got another day before I can get my driver’s license. I woke up thinking today was Saturday, and that my driving test was today. All of my anticipation is now wasted until tomorrow comes.” “Why would you take your test on a weekday? That doesn’t make sense to me. I would’ve picked a weekend spot for the test if I were you. It makes it a hell of a lot more convenient.” “I know. I’m scheduled for tomorrow. I already thought about that. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to be busy tonight anyway, but yeah, it’d be simpler to wait ‘til the weekend.” “So you’re not going to the choir concert then?” “No that was yesterday. I had homework to do, so I didn’t go.” “No, no, no. You’ve got it wrong. I marked it on my calendar for tonight so I wouldn’t forget it.” She pulled out her phone, showing Natalie the event “Choir Concert” marked in red within the green square that signified the date. Only, something was wrong: the date said Thursday. She knew that was incorrect, as she had seen Thursday plastered over everything she read the previous day: her phone, her laptop, the news update, every chalkboard in the school building, everywhere. “Huh? I could’ve sworn today was Friday… you’re not messing with me, are you?” “No, today is definitely Thursday, otherwise I suspect you would’ve gotten called out by the teacher for not having your essay done, which I know it won’t be until one o’clock in the morning tonight.” “If today’s Thursday, then you’re right.” “Yes! Today’s Thursday! We’ve already established that! Move on with it!” She was clearly getting irritated, So Natalie decided not to mention it again. But she also wasn’t going to give up on her suspicions. So she changed the subject instead. “Fine… Hey, what did you think of that news update yesterday?” “On what channel?” “News Channel Nine. I think it plays on channel eighty, though.” “I don’t remember there being one. Don’t those usually cut across and interrupt other channels when they happen?” “Yeah. I didn’t get to see it ‘cause I was busy with something else. I was wondering if you could fill me in.” She was still trying to elicit the date from her friend. But the more she tried, the more confused she became. Lunch was almost over, so she decided she needed some conclusive data, ASAP. So when the bell rang, she headed for her locker to check her own phone for the date. Mr. Martinet would not mind if she was a minute late. She opened her locker as quick as she could, whipping her phone out and holding the power button simultaneously.
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Post by Reactinator304 on May 4, 2015 18:05:08 GMT -5
Week of May 5th, 2015
But when the screen flickered to life, her suspicions shattered like so many shards of glass. She whirled around, putting her back to her locker and closing it at the same time. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor with her knees up in front of her, all the while staring at her phone with a sort of bewilderment that could easily be misconstrued as horror. The date was Thursday, and the events of the “previous day” had not occurred. She was dumbfounded, mind blown, completely and utterly shocked. Had she spent her evening with Mike, or was that just a dream? She had to go ask him. Now. (Did she always have this sense of “now” urgency?) She stood and started to head for class, slipping her phone into her pocket, when she realized nothing was happening. Her classmates and others in the hall were not moving, absolutely still: frozen in place as if time itself had stopped. “It has, my dear,” said a garbled, omnipresent voice. Natalie stopped dead in her tracks. She was absolutely positive the woman’s (she guessed) comment had been addressed directly to her, and that the owner of the voice had read her mind as well. “Yes, I did indeed read your thoughts. I apologize if I’ve intruded, but there is a special matter of which we must speak.” “Give me a reason I should trust you.” “On one account, I am completely capable of removing you from existence, but I am sure you would rather hear the peaceful reasoning. I have been sent from the future, as per my abilities, with the message entrusted me for delivery by none other than yourself.” “I didn’t send a message.” “Correct. The fact of the matter is that you will. In a very near future, I might add. I also request that you please refrain from apprehensive behaviors, as predicted by your future self.” “No promises. I still think you’re lying,” Natalie growled. “Then allow me to allay your suspicions.” The woman then walked out of thin air two feet away., just enough of a distance for Natalie to observe the woman’s basic appearance. She had long hair that was uniform in length all the way around, despite being tied back from the front. Her light violet blouse was tucked into her skirt, and on her ankle was attached a fist-sized device with what appeared to be a counter on its face. From the top of the device, a tube ran up her leg (under her skirt and blouse), and down her arm to a strap on her wrist, and a stopwatch-like device attached firmly to her palm. Inside the tube was a fluorescent blue-white-violet liquid, presumably a power source for the devices. Natalie didn’t want to know what it was. The woman held out her other hand, closed in which was a piece of paper with an object wrapped in it, an object of notable weight. And as Natalie reached her arm out as response, the woman deposited the bundle in her hand. First, Natalie looked at the piece of paper. In her handwriting, unsurprisingly, the message was scrawled hastily across the page. But Natalie was aware her handwriting could easily be faked or reproduced, and so she turned her attention to the enclosed object. It was yet another device, but simple as what it looked like: a smartphone. It had a singular button on its face, just below the screen, that she soon pushed. This time, she was surprised. The screen turned on to display a video of what appeared to be (and was) her future self, aged slightly in appearance and voice. “Hello?...Oh, okay, it’s working. Natalie, this is your future persona speaking, with a message. I am well aware you have not actually read the paper, and I inform you it is necessary that you do not until after you have joined the League of Heroes. This ‘League of Heroes’ is what will result from the fruitful efforts of you and your…colleague.” At the pause, the Natalie in the video blushed, serving as more evidence that this video was one hundred per cent truthful and real. Some things never change, present-day Natalie thought. Now she got the impression that she would end up with Michael when everything unfolded. That being said, it would only happen if she took the offer from the agents. She noticed an insignia or a glyph, or something else on her future shoulder, one that directly matched an image she’d seen on the stamp, and on the dart she had cast out into the sea from Mike’s shin. That had been two nights ago; or one night, seeing how the Thursday she thought she’d lived had never happened. She was still fuzzy on that. But she wondered whether the future in the video was set in stone, or subject to change.
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Post by Reactinator304 on May 18, 2015 10:27:59 GMT -5
Week of May 12th, 2015
“Set in stone. Continue watching the video,” said the woman who was still standing in front of her. Natalie decided for now to call her “Gadget Girl.” She looked back at the screen to see that it had paused when she started to zone, and now un-paused as her gaze met it. The video continued as if it had never halted. “At the moment of time you are in, the League of Heroes is nothing more than a couple of hired suits, an old man, and a couple robots, I would imagine. But the future of the group hinges on you. You have connections everywhere to great people and places where such great people reside. I will not reveal any of them; that is for you to discover. But I will say, the League needs you. You and…Mike.” At this pause in the speech, Natalie was unable to read her own expression in the countenance of the other her, which came to trouble her greatly. This was because as she paused, she also turned away, but it was hard to tell whether the turn was of distraction or emotion. Likewise in ambiguity, her voice inflection did not waver either, just a pause. Modern-day Natalie looked away again to inquire her company, to question the so-called Gadget Girl, but the woman was nowhere to be seen. But time had not un-paused around her yet, so she had to still be active somewhere. With nothing else to do, Natalie looked back to the video, hoping it didn’t last much longer. “Alright,” the video version of her said, with a now straight face and an air of order to her regal posture. She then gestured beside her, where the familiar face of Gadget Girl appeared, as well as the rest of her. “My friend here, Hourglass, has informed me you are beginning to get distracted, so I will cut to the chase. That news report the previous night involved a certain ninja character, if memory serves. That ninja will go on to become one of our leading members, and yes, he does have superhuman abilities. Your job is to go talk to him, get him to join the group, and be careful while doing so. Tonight, from your perspective, anyway, at 9:45 in the evening, he will be scaling rooftops chasing a drug dealer downtown, and will catch him two shops directly south of the park. Be there. As an incentive, after you fall asleep this evening, your reawakening the following morning will be moving on to the Friday you were awaiting, and the events you witnessed the last Thursday you had will still come to pass, as well as the meeting with the ninja. If you fail, however, you will relive this day until you do succeed. For now, until the time in the evening I gave you, talk to your friends. Some of them are more spectacular than you may think.”
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Post by Reactinator304 on May 18, 2015 10:29:21 GMT -5
Week of May 19th, 2015
As she said this, an arm moved into view in the shot behind her. On that arm, a metal wrist brace made itself well-known. “You had to give me a hint, didn’t you,” the her of the future said, not even looking behind her to see the arm. The only inkling the owner of the arm gave that he (It was obviously a man) heard was a loud snap of the fingers that narrowed the hint by producing a small sparkling-white flame. Natalie instantly got the hint. But her future self didn’t take it so coolly, storming off screen toward the man, yelling at him all the while. This left only Hourglass on screen, and she took the opportunity to say one final thing. “Ahem. After you finish watching this video, you will notice a small button pop out of the side of the device in your hand, the holopad. You may keep it. The button will allow you direct contact to Agent Collins, and you can ask him advice on whatever it is you need help with, though I would not recommend his advice on people skills. After enrolling to the League, you will gain access to contact all of the other super beings you have thus far encountered cumulatively, as well as a reserve three spots for personal friends. Good-bye, and good luck!” The screen instantly went black, and, as predicted, a small knob slid out of the side edge of the device, perfectly placed for her thumb to reach when she held the device in one hand. Left alone, inert, she resumed her trek toward class, with the obvious perception that time had also resumed. But she was oblivious to where the now un-frozen people around her were in respects to her current position. As a result, she collided with Zach coming around a corner, and unfortunately, that allowed the captain of the football team to catch up to him. ***Zach*** crap! Zach bellowed inside his head. I guess it was inevitable… “Hey numbskull! You’re about to be bone meal if you think you’re getting out of it that easily!” said the jock, known very well as Jackson Holt. The guy was captain of the football team, and every team, for that matter. And the guy couldn’t lose, no matter how hard the other team tried. Never got injured, and just seemed drawn to the ball. And because of this unbeatable mentality, he thought he could also get away with bullying and whatever he pleased from his peers. Unfortunately for Zach, he was number fifteen on Jackson’s list. And the bone this brute had to pick with him was an issue Zach had forgotten to avoid. He was friends with a cheerleader, Avery, whom Jackson had essentially marked as his territory. But after the bowling game, last night, Zach had walked her home early, before the jocks could sink their lusty fangs into her, the same fangs that now craved his blood. She had just been there watching, and was cautious of the jocks, knowing exactly when the sharks would be coming: she was shark bait. It was her request that Zach took her home, but the team had looked at it differently. “What…have…I told you… about getting in my way?” the over-sized ape said, with a stone cold expression on his face.
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Post by Mana on May 26, 2015 20:31:23 GMT -5
Week of May 26th, 2015 Great,” Zach said under his breath, as two of Jackson’s stooges appeared on his flanks. Zach always got a kick from calling them jockstraps, as the connection to the term “athletic support” was too good not to use. However, now was far from the time to be getting a kick out of anything. Jackson had been pinching his brow, but as he resumed his tirade, the gesture changed rapidly to pummeling one of his fists into the other. “Now I know that you didn’t succeed in anything with her: even you’re not stupid enough for that; and face it. There’s no way you could if you tried. But I like to keep things in order. I give orders, and you follow them. Still, my system can only work if every tire on every wheel is running in sync with the engine. At the moment, your tire is treading on dangerous terrain, and it’s quickly wearing flat. If you cross me again, I can assure you, it won’t be spared. Get the picture?” Zach nodded and gulped, doubting he could hotwire this metaphorical car if it broke down. “Good. Then we have an agreement. Stay the hell out of the way.” He and his sheep posse walked away, and one of them even had the nerve to wink at Natalie as he passed.Zach had completely forgotten Natalie was there, and now he was quite embarrassed to have cowered the way he had, when a friend was watching from a couple feet away. But she didn’t seem to look down on him at all. (Well, except for the fact that she was standing and he was still on the floor) Instead, she handed him his books, which she had so generously picked up for him, and calmly asked him a question. “Why didn’t you just torch the guy; send him up in smoke? I would’ve.” “No, you wouldn’t have. Don’t try to lie to make me feel better. You suck at it. Besides, burning someone? Seriously? Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? Not to mention the trouble I’d get into.” “Not if it was a ‘spontaneous combustion,’” she said, giving the little two-finger hand signal that meant some sort of sneaky lying. “Those morons would still try to pin it on me. And with all the achievements that guy has, he’d be martyred. And I’d get the electric chair.” “I think they would have a hard time trying to blame you for abnormally white flames…” He halted in place. How did Mike and Natalie find me out? It’s impossible; they have never seen my palms, let alone what they can do…
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