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Post by Beelzebibble on Dec 29, 2015 19:52:06 GMT -5
"Do you hate your powers, too?", and there had to be that one vanishing instant of relief before the full weight of her words sank in.
He hated that feeling of relief, now that it had gone. The relief at – what? That she hadn't asked the "tactless" question? She hadn't demanded "So when are you gonna tell us what it is, huh?" Oh, no, she'd only seen in him someone she could open up to, that was all, and here Deandre had been too self-centered to realize that. He'd had to second-guess the tiny girl who was now quietly choking up and sniffling at his side. Not knowing what else to do, he reached out and laid a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry," he told her softly, understanding at least that she meant to keep the conversation private. "I'm really sorry... Maybe they can help you here, maybe--"
"Next up, Talia Kane."
Dalisay wiped her eyes and looked toward the stage, and Deandre followed suit, not making any attempt to finish his sentence, but also keeping a hand on her arm. With the other hand, he dutifully recorded as Talia, the similarly bookish white girl with the dark-blond hair he'd noticed early on, introduced her power as "the sensation and manipulation of vibrations". While she took off her sandals and held still, eyes closed, Deandre had enough time to ponder what he would have said if pressed to answer Dalisay's question: Did he hate his power?
Well, hadn't his parents seemed a little excited to see him off, too? Only Deandre had grown more careful in the last five or six years; had learned, from his family, his schools, his church, the consequences of using his power on people he knew – or even letting them know it was possible. But it was a privilege to even have that choice. Before then, when he had been Dalisay's age, he'd been like her, with no control over the ability at all. Still... had he really hated it then? Hadn't he loved it then, better than he ever could now?
The desks were vibrating. Deandre took back his hand and put down the pen to grasp his desk on both sides, feeling the tremors running up and down the metal legs and over the surface. Talia was standing with her arms slightly raised, palms down, her tranquil smile at odds with the clamor of shaking metal that grew louder and louder by the second. Deandre glanced back to Dalisay only to see that the Asian girl had ducked under her chair and out of sight again – well, that much was predictable enough. Alma, on the other hand, had lifted her feet off the ground and stretched out her arms, laughing tremulously as her chair and everything in it shook up and down. An exuberant cry was the only thing to tell him Nessa was similarly enjoying herself, since her face had vanished beneath the swishing crop of red hair.
Deandre was close to admitting that he was having fun, too, until a massive groan sounded all around them. The walls were starting to crack.
He leapt out of his seat, which was now rocking furiously in place; the book flew open, pages fluttering madly; the pen rattled off the edge and bounced away. All around him, other students were jumping to their feet as well, and screams and cries filled the auditorium. As the floor lurched and the lights flickered, Deandre seized the desk above Dalisay's head and tried – not quite successfully – to hold it still for protection over the wailing, curled-up girl. His knees were rocking, and only the sudden swell of sickness in his stomach held him back from letting out a terrified shout. When he shot a glance at Talia, it was to see the blond girl levitating a glass of water and a single red brick in front of her. Though Deandre couldn't understand the meaning of this, her look appeared purposeful as much as frightened. Then the vibrations subsided – or rather, she seemed to have concentrated them into a single target. In the same moment that she dropped the glass of water to shatter on the floor, Talia fell to her knees, and the brick exploded into red dust. The room settled into stillness once again.
Before anyone could speak, Talia had pulled herself to her feet and fled the auditorium in tears. The next to mount the stage was CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE, with a flap of his cape, who waved a hand to refurbish the cracked walls. Deandre relaxed, and sank back into his seat, giving an attempt at a reassuring smile when Dalisay poked her head back up. And then he noticed the thought, very much his own, that snuck in at the sight of Dalisay:
Well, Talia's another one who hates her power, anyway.
What kind of thing to think was that?
And why, come to that, had he reacted so differently between Garth's demonstration and Talia's? Garth, by his own admission, had come close to inviting a meteor directly into the auditorium and Deandre had thought it was a wonder. Talia had lost control, had nearly brought the place crashing down, and that had appalled him. What was so different about them? What did it come down to except that Deandre had already met Garth before he stepped up onstage? There had been a built-in level of trust there, automatically, without even any intent. And with Talia, that trust had been absent. And that thought was the last stop pointing Deandre toward his own hypocrisy, because it was that same prospect of being feared by his classmates that had kept him from reaching out to them, and then he had become exactly the terrified onlooker to Talia he had been dreading for himself... He'd have to find her later, to talk with her about this, and let it be known that he didn't want to treat her like an outcast.
He'd also have to write this down.
Where was his pen?
It was the only pen he'd had on his person. The rest of them were in his room with the rest of the baggage. No. Damn it. No. Where was it? Deandre pitched onto the floor and crawled on his hands and knees among the desks, breathing heavily, feeling around in the unsteady light.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Dec 31, 2015 0:21:00 GMT -5
If there was one thing Emma Ray Jo knew how to do, and she knew it sure as chickens have a hankering for spaghetti, it was how to take cover when the building you were in decided to up and collapse. As soon as the gymnasium got sigogglin, she dove for the floor like a prize catfish were about to flop out of their rowboat, and sheltered under her desk.
As chips of paints from the ceiling wafted down like cottonwood seeds, Brightmeadow’s greatest cornhusker watched her classmates react. The other Brightfeldian had staggered weakly to his feet, and had enscribed another circle of vibrant flame in the air above him, the buff guy, and the dark haired lady. It wasn’t as immense as his first one, this one more like an umbrella furnished from the void of space.
The high-falutin’ superintendent lady, the one her ma and pa had told her to keep an eye out for, had shot across the room like she’d been fired out of a cannon. She twisted in midair, a catlike motion that turned her to face back towards the stage. She hit the bleachers feetfirst with a bang like a thunderclap, the blow hard enough that the collapsable benches slid a tier closer to the wall, bowling several of the teens off their feet. She threw her arms out to either side, in what looked like a gesture of defiance, until a translucent force unfurled from her arms like a time-lapse of a flower blooming. It encircled the five of them, bubbling them off from the rest of the ruckus.
“AGUAS!” A pair of leather shoes quickly trotted across her field of vision- The Mexican girl had gotten up, and had chucked the other elementary schooler, the one named Michael or something like that (it sounded like her pa’s name) straight under the desk beside her. The teen didn’t stop there, she hoisted the twins by their clutched hands, and jammed the two of them halfway under another desk. Almudena brought her fist down on an unoccupied desk, the sledgehammer blow popping it into the air like a buttermilk flapjack. She caught it in midair and dropped it upside over most of what was left exposed on the twins.
Emma heard a remark from the energetic girl, Jessie, she was pretty sure.
“Guys, it’s okay! The gym doesn’t collapse! Well, it doesn’t collapse most of the time...”
She heard more footsteps beside her, and saw Alma’s patent leather shoe send a pen skittering wildly across the floor as she took a ready stance.
“Dale cabron!” The older girl had centered herself ‘tween the desks of all the young’uns,, pitching back on her heel like she was getting ready to catch a bale chucked from the hayloft. The girl cocked one logsplitter of a fist, and got ready to whup that ceiling back into place.
And then nothing happened, except for the girl giving the demo lighting out of the room, bawling.
In the silence after the chaos, Emma Ray Jo was the first to bounce back into her seat.
“WHOO-EE! Now waren’t that fahner than a box o’ snuff!”
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Post by Yoshimitsu on Dec 31, 2015 9:10:09 GMT -5
What the actual fuck.Between the guy who had damn near killed them all, the kid with the sand trick, and the dude who had frozen the room, Tallis was rapidly approaching his bullshit quotient for the day I was sent here because they couldn't figure me out, not because they actively wanted me dead. Seeing the stage shake and threaten to crumble like that, something he probably could have done without the tension that filled the air, he was rapidly approaching his limit. If one more student turned up on stage and showcased some world-breaking power... This school was a bad idea. "I guess she was the one who was whispering to us," Claire commented as the girl, Talia he thought her name was, ran off the stage, covering her face with her hands. What had she said her power was, something about vibrations. He hummed in agreement as he absorbed what he'd just witnessed. The girl clearly had some control issues and it sent a shiver through him. If she had been whispering in their ears and had lost control in that instant, what would have happened? Burst eardrum? Deafness? Worse? "Alistair Lexann," the superintendent shouted as she climbed down the stage and where is she going in the middle of all this. The boy in blue and gold stepped up to the stage and Tallis took the opportunity to study his face properly, angular in the right places, strong jawline. The thing that got him was that this stranger's whole expression was kind. It was all warm smiles and bright eyes and concern, and it made Tallis' insides twist uncomfortably. He couldn't wrap his head around why his gut was squirming like that he isn't even looking in this direction and he couldn't figure out if he should be scared or not. He glanced at his friends and none of them had reacted with anything other than mild interest and the boy. Willing himself to calm down this should not be a flight-or-fight moment he tried to focus in on what the boy on the stage looked like, what he was saying. "My name's Alistair Lexann, I was averaging a three-point-two-five at my old school," he said, his voice was confident and even and exactly what Tallis expected. It suited his appearance, after all. Even though he was wearing a loose-fitting jersey shirt it isn't just the lining, it's in the stitching, that's cool he was wearing loose-fitting clothing that kind-of accentuated his body. Sort of like what Claire was wearing, but not tailor-cut to his body. It was a good look. "I was on the football, basketball and soccer teams at my old school and my power is... Well, I can shapeshift. Kinda." There was a pause, everyone was waiting for some kind of explanation 'kinda' doesn't really narrow it down there and Alistair actually looked sheepish for a second, which was weird in itself. He looked a bit like he didn't actually want to show off his power, but now that Tallis was examining his expression again, it was different. Like he was hesitating or torn between not wanting to and a bit like he did want to. It was confusing. Tallis was confused. "I can't change into just anything, it's like... I can turn into one other shape? It's an animal, I call it a beast." Tallis' blood ran like ice as soon as he heard the word beast and suddenly he wasn't curious about Alistair's power any more, he wanted to be literally anywhere but the auditorium right now is he gonna shift what's he gonna do oh shit oh shit and his mind was going a million miles a minute and he could feel his breath catching, stuttering in his chest. Alistair was taking his shirt off on the stage and Tallis might have taken the moment to appreciate his physique if he wasn't freaking the fuck out, he could see Alistair's mouth turning into a snout and there's fur sprouting all over and there's darkness flooding his vision there's teeth his teeth oh fuck and He's pinned to the ground, he's said the wrong thing again even though he doesn't know what he's said, maybe his mother's just feeling vindictive but at this point it doesn't matter. The dog, it's a cross breed he knows that much, a rottweiler, pitbull, doberman mix that his mother had specifically bred for its looks and it was terrifying, always lurking by its owner, just in case he stepped out of line. What did I say, what did I do he can't struggle because the dog's entire weight is pinning him to the floor, on his chest and his breaths are shortTallis and his mother is looking at him with disgust, all sneer and down her nose. He can feel the dog's breath on his neck, just like he always can and every time it petrifies him, those teeth so close to his neck and threatening please, please don't let this be the time don't let him bite me he wants to beg his mother, beg and plead, get the dog off of him but he can't, he can't get enough air in his lungs and what he can breathe tastes like rancid meat and drool and he wants to choke and crawl away and cry.
Is he alright?
He can't breathe"You wretched little brat," his mother snarls and that's when he can feel the teeth on his neck and he's sure she sharpens them somehow because they're pressing in and he swears they could break his skin so so easily. They're like tiny daggers pressing in and he knows, he knows they're going to leave marks this time, a ring of purple spots that he'll have to cover with foundation, and avoid questions and wear something to cover up, so he doesn't get caught, doesn't end up in this position again and his lungs are screaming at him now, begging for air that he can't choke down. He feels himself sobbing, ugly noises that shake his whole body but his mother just glares at him, like he's not worth anything, like he's not even worth this punishment but he must be because the animal isn't moving, she isn't calling him off what did I do why do I deserve it this time
having
a panic attack
He felt himself being pulled into a sitting position and he could feel hands grasping his from behind, pulling his arms wide, words he could hear but It hurts it hurts it hurts he could feel his skin tearing and ripping under the dog's jaws and, through his tears, he could see his mother's surprise and, for a second, he could pretend that he was worth her sympathy but it's swept away when the pain in his neck intensifies and he hears his own scream. It's like an animal's, it's raw and it hurts his throat. He can't breathe and his mother is there with a cane and suddenly he feels air on his throat, more than air, something warm and slippery and as he's sucking in lungfuls of oxygen he touches his neck and feels the blood there, more blood than he had ever seen before. The dog had never attacked him like that before, had always just held him down and threatened, putrid breath hot on his neck and just enough pressure in his jaw to show how strong it was. It had never broken skin or tried to tear out his throat like that. He could feel the jagged marks under his fingers, stinging at the touch, and everything was just so red.
His mother was still there but she wasn't moving, why wasn't she moving why won't you help me but that sneer had gone. He could still see enough, even through his crying, ugly sounds that he couldn't stop spilling from his mouth and he felt dirty, pathetic. He isn't worthy of her help because he's said something wrong, or done something wrong, and this is his punishment. She turns and leaves and he pulls his t-shirt up, pulls it tight around his neck, it's already stained red and he knows he'll have to throw it away but the blood is scaring him, terrifying him. He can't think, he just knows he needs to stop the bleeding and he curls up, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them, still sobbing. Tallis, you're okay
Just breathe Come on, Tallis Deep breaths, come on
You can do this He isn't sure how long he's been lying there. He knows he stopped crying a while ago, tears leaving track marks down his cheeks and smearing the blood he'd managed to wipe there, but he still hadn't managed to make himself move. He knows he should. The t-shirt had stuck to the dried blood around his neck and he slowly, carefully peels it away, wincing as it pulled layers of the scabbed wounds away. Not as much blood this time no, not as much, you're not gonna die , he wipes it away and sits up. His muscles are stiff and his movements are jerky, some part of him knows it's not just because he's been curled up for so long. Something rattles behind him and he jumps it's just a stupid cup and it's enough to get him to his feet.
There are mirrors in the house. There are so many mirrors in the house because his mother likes to look at herself, likes to make sure her roots aren't showing and her outfit is straight. He hates those mirrors, hates looking in them and seeing the person who was looking back, layers of make-up covering black and blue and purple and a permanently scared expression whenever he wasn't alone in the room. The biggest mirror is in the living room, big enough to see his entire body, or rather for his mother to before she left the house, and that's the one he goes to. He's pale, he didn't even know he could go this pale, his eyes instantly drawn to his neck and it nearly sends him back to the floor.He was vaguely aware of his body rocking back and forth gently, someone muttering a mantra of breathebreathe that's it breathe inand out and his chest didn't feel so tight but he was still teetering on the edge because There's just so much blood his neck is a mess of jagged lines, ragged edges of wounds that he didn't think would be so bad. They're not deep, not really, and they probably look worse for the dried blood sticking to his neck, but they were bad enough that he could tell the beast hadn't just tried to bite him, it had tried to kill him, tried to rip out his throat and let him bleed out. He looks closer and sees strands of skin still attached, where the dog had tried chewing, he guessed, and his stomach turns. It makes him dizzy and he puts one hand on the wall, trying to support himself, he didn't want to fall down again.He has to look away from his reflection before it makes him too sick and he sees his own blood on the floor, a small puddle that had already seeped into the carpet probably cheaper to replace it but no that would raise questions. His mother still hasn't returned to the room. If she had, she probably would have told him to clean up the mess and that's exactly what he wants to do, wants to shower and scrub away the blood and drool and dirty feeling that's covering him, smothering him. He makes his way to the bathroom and he can't hear either his mother or the dog anywhere, normally he'd hear them shuffling around. The house is eerily quiet.
The spray from the shower is scalding and that's how he needs it, needs to burn some sensation into his skin, to burn away the feel of the dog and its weight on his chest. His neck stings, really fucking stings, under the water but he can't stand the blood, can't stand how it's clinging to his skin, it's like the dog's jaws are there again. There's no way he can leave the house now, no way would he be able to explain away these cuts and he doesn't think he owns anything with a high enough neck to cover them. The water runs red down the drain, then pink, then finally it's clear and Tallis can feel his breathing settlingTallis can feel his breathing settling. He blinked a couple of times, his vision slowly coming back with each second. He felt his arms, pulled out to either side, still being gripped firmly. Someone was pressed up against his back, their knees on either side of his hips. In front of him, Ethan and Claire and Mel were all wearing matching expressions, somewhere between concern and panic, all tense and for a second he couldn't understand, his head was rattling and buzzing and he could feel adrenaline surging through his body, or maybe it was flushing out of his system. It was nearly silent, completely still except for the sound of his own breaths and that's what he focused on. In, out, in, out he felt that awful constricting, crippling sensation in his chest slowly ease with every breath. Whoever was behind him let go of his hands and he let his arms fall to his sides again, he wasn't ready to stand up yet, wasn't even really ready to sit up and he was leaning heavily backwards but hands were on his shoulders supporting him. "Hey, Tallis, you with us man?" Ethan said and his voice was softer than Tallis had ever heard it that's weird stop doing that voice, concern bleeding into the edges and Tallis nodded once, not trusting his voice yet. Whoever it was supporting him shifted and lifted him slightly so that he was leaning against one of the seats on the bleachers. "What happened?" "Panic attack," someone supplied. Tallis looked and it was that guy he'd seen talking to the teacher, the one with the brown spiky hair and messenger bag. He was kneeling and that carefree look he'd had earlier was gone, it looked professional, even though he was wearing a vest and flip-flops and why are you dressed for the beach if you're supposed to be a teacher his eyes only briefly flickered from Tallis' face. All of the attention was on Tallis now and he really didn't appreciate it, he wanted to slink away somewhere quiet to get his head together. He couldn't believe he'd had a panic attack in front of an entire room of people. "Do you have panic attacks often?" The teacher asked and his face flashed in Tallis' memory, he was listed in the info packs sent to all the students, gym teacher what's his name, I know his name and eventually his mind supplied Kilik Ginnungap. He looked weird without that good-natured, easygoing grin and Tallis only felt a bit like he'd stepped into the twilight zone, between his friends looking concerned and not hardened and Kilik's whole professional attitude that had come from nowhere. It wasn't a question he particularly wanted to answer seriously I just want to be left alone but he didn't see any way out of it. "Not any more. I used to but I thought I'd outgrown them," he admitted, determinedly not looking anyone in the eye and he hated how shaky his voice sounded. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to start treating him like this fragile little boy, scared of breaking him just by touching him. Kilik seemed to accept that he probably wasn't going to get any more information based on the nod he gave, and Tallis just wanted him to go away. "Do you need to leave the room? Get some fresh air?" The teacher offered. He didn't sound like he was taking pity and Tallis appreciated that, but shook his head. It was bad enough that he'd even had a panic attack, he didn't want to draw more attention by being the-kid-that-couldn't-even-sit-through-orientation great first impression there, Tallis, really, A plus for effort and it looked like Kilik got that because he nodded again and stood up. He gestured to the other teacher, the superintendent, and Tallis noticed some tension fade out of her posture as Kilik descended the bleachers again. Now that the drama was over, everyone's eyes slowly stopped focusing off him and were back on the stage . Apart from Alistair. He had only just noticed the brown-haired boy, definitely back in human shape now and not wearing a shirt, but Tallis saw his expression and it felt like a punch to the gut. It was like any emotion he was feeling just completely took over his face and it was weird, just like it was weird with Kilik, to see something that wasn't the easy, charming grin he'd had all morning so far. Now, it was a mask of concern and... guilt. It made his breath catch in his chest again, not like a panic attack, not nearly as bad, but his insides squirmed again, no one's ever felt guilty about me, if anything, he'd only ever seen someone looking at him with anger or disgust and it was so strange to have someone look at him as though... He looked away but he could still feel Alistair's eyes on him and he wished the other boy would look somewhere else. "Are you sure you're alright man?" Ethan asked and he was still using that weird voice. Tallis wasn't alright, not really, but he wasn't about to let that show any further. "Ethan, I'm fine, stop using that voice, you sound all kinds of wrong," he retorted, grateful that his voice had stopped faltering finally. He gave Ethan a small shove and looked back at the stage.
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Dec 31, 2015 21:27:35 GMT -5
Talia did not have to look over her shoulder to tell that the reflection of Silumas in the mirror was an illusion as her vibratory senses would have detected his approach well down the hallway. She backed away from the mirror as he spoke, even though her senses detected no vibratory change in it and listened to his words from a slight distance up until his image faded away. Her facial expression was no longer emotional, it was almost numb and empty after the evil man’s speech as she thought on his words.
Finally a defiant glare filled her eyes and a disgusted frown twisted across her face as she continued to stare into the mirror. A high pitched burst of sound suddenly struck the mirror which promptly cracked and then shattered into the sink and onto the floor. The words of a ‘high and mighty’ man mean nothing to me.
She quickly turned and exited the restroom and was just about to turn and leave in the direction of the dorms when she noticed a white haired boy sitting in the hallway near the auditorium she had come from. Flint, she recalled was the name Thyra had used when he was called up and he must have heard the restroom door open because he was now looking in her direction, but did not move. He seemed to be breathing strangely and she noticed his molecular vibrations were currently extra bizarre compared to when she had first noticed him in the auditorium earlier. It seemed she had not been the only one who had a reason to flee into the hallway and that at least comforted her a bit.
Talia sighed hard and sank to the floor against the wall and sat staring at the floor, deciding for the moment not to run any farther.
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Dec 31, 2015 23:43:56 GMT -5
“You know, the fear, it only makes it worse. It’s like a monster, the more it feeds off of you the greater it becomes. With each bite it takes you become smaller and smaller until eventually you lose all control. And you know what the worst part is? Most people don’t believe that there is anything they can do about it. Maybe they’re right. Who knows? I’ve been consumed by my fear before. I got pulled back, but it was at a huge price.”
The words fell from Flint’s lips among small clouds of frost. Only a few, rapidly disintegrating, grey slivers remained in his eyes. Staring blankly at the nearby wall he listened to Talia’s steady breathing. It was obvious that she had managed to find some semblance of psychological stability while in the bathroom. Glancing at the girl sitting down the hall, small circles of frost began circling Flint’s wrists. The icy particles orbiting the left wrist drifted into his right palm; slowly accumulating into a perfect sphere the size of an apple. The remaining ice particles drifted down the hallway forming a pile of similar spheres next to Talia. Tossing his snowball down the hallway Flint created another sphere in his palm. The projectile landed between the girl’s feet with a soft thump.
“It’s none of my business and I wouldn’t blame you for not answering, but I do have one question for you.”
Biting his lip, Flint seemed to be pondering if he should ask the question.
“Who did you see die?”
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Jan 1, 2016 1:02:17 GMT -5
Talia continued to stare at the floor silently despite her senses making her aware of the ice trail that formed down the hall towards her and the formation of the small spheres next to her. She remained deep in thought, still hearing Flint’s words, but not responding to them. Suddenly a snowball landed between her feet and she blinked, staring at it. She focused on it, making its molecules vibrate to the point that it melted into a puddle on the floor. She focused on vibrations in the floor and used them to push the puddle across the floor and down the hallway towards Flint.
“Maybe you’re right about the fear or maybe control just doesn’t come naturally to me, but either way I lost all control before I ever had a chance to try. Before I even really understood what I could do, and it wasn’t because of fear.” She said as she looked down the hall at the boy, her stare numb and blank. “It was out of rage.”
Talia used a slight bit of vibratory force to levitate the other snow balls that had been piled up next to her out into the hallway in front of her and stacked them into snowmen. She then used the slightest of vibrations to create indentations to serve as eyes, a nose and a mouth on each.
“My father was the one I saw die.” She whispered, “but he wasn’t what I lost, he deserved it really.”
She sighed and leaned back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. “No, when I accidently killed him what I lost was a part of myself. I was only 14, innocent. I grew up to be a murderer that day.”
At that point she glanced down the hall at Flint, her face blank, “are you a murderer to Flint?”
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Jan 1, 2016 2:22:09 GMT -5
“A murderer? I suppose you could say that. I’m guessing you saw that I was marking a history book earlier. You like books don’t you? Must have been painful to watch, but they are wrong you know. All that medieval history is about as honest as a guy that would use a holy statue to fight a monk. No one really wanted to admit how those wars were won. Monsters; monsters changed history and no one would admit it. Probably for the best. Doubt anyone would even know those monsters if they saw one. Then again there are so many monsters these days.”
With a flick of his wrist Flint rolled a snowball down the hallway. As it traveled it gained mass eventually forming legs and arms. The newly formed snowman seemed unstable on its feet. It quickly gained its balance and began waddling around the hallway. Finding Talia’s snowman, it began inspecting the possible friend.
“You know I first picked up a weapon when I was two years old and I had killed a man before I was five. The look in his eyes haunts me to this day. He seemed so surprised, who would have thought that someone so young could do something so…… vile. His eyes burned into me, I wanted to look away so badly. In the end I just couldn’t break his gaze. It was like I needed to remember my sin. But what is the weight of a life? Have I paid the price for my sin yet or will there be more to come? Is there really anything we can do to atone for the sins we have committed?”
Tilting his head back, Flint stared at the ceiling watching two flies buzz around an overhead light.
“I think I gave up on atoning for my sins a long time ago. I guess it makes life easier.”
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Jan 1, 2016 13:47:56 GMT -5
To say that Talia was surprised to hear that the white haired boy down the hall had killed at an even earlier age than her would have been an understatement. The look he mentioned seeing in the eyes of the man he had killed, the one that haunts him to this day, she had seen that look before herself. She had seen it in the eyes of her father just before he was reduced to red mist, but oddly enough that wasn’t what haunted her. Rather it was the look of sheer terror in the eyes of her mother after what she had done and the emptiness that she had felt within herself from that day on.
“I used to think that the weight of a life was dependant on the life in question. My father was a monster and I always felt he got what he deserved...but, the weight of a life is the toll it takes on the person who ends that life.” She looked back at Flint, tears filling her eyes now, “the toll of realising just how easily you snuffed them out. It shouldn’t be that easy to kill, but when you’re cursed with power that you can’t control….sometimes it just happens.”
She cast her tearful eyes upon the floor once more, hugging herself tightly, “and it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.” She whispered as she watched the waddling snowman, crying quietly.
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Jan 1, 2016 17:39:42 GMT -5
Each second seemed like an hour as a nearby clock ticked rhythmically. The sound of Talia’s weeping was barely audible over the suffocating silence between the two students. Tears made Flint uncomfortable; he wasn’t sure how to comfort a female. Talia seemed so vulnerable; it was like she hadn’t opened up to anyone in a long time. Looking in her direction, Flint observed her face. The tears made her eyes glisten in the light and made small streams on her cheeks. Until now he hadn’t really noticed her eyes, they were a blue like his but they were a few shades darker. He wanted to help but wasn’t really sure how.
“There was a time when I was terrified of losing control. I felt so helpless whenever it would happen. Some of the teachers here know about it, although I don’t think it’s in my file. I think that I stopped fearing losing control once I realized that it was something only I could deal with. Others could give advice about it but in the end it was up to me. So I fought my demons and I came out alive.” Flint paused a moment before muttering. “For now at least.”
“As for taking the life of another person I agree with you. Maybe it shouldn’t be that easy. Then again humans are fragile, emotionally and physically. It’s hard to comprehend how something as delicate as us could be the top predator. And yet here we are, superior to the other species in so many ways. Despite our superiority the natural reaction to an accidental death would normally be saying not to worry it will all be okay. But we all know that’s a lie. We just tell ourselves that so we can have a sense of hope for the future. We hate the darkness so much that we try to ignore it instead of confronting it.”
Rising to his feet, Flint walked down the hallway coming to a stop in front of Talia. Squatting down, he reached a hand forward gently lifting Talia’s chin until their blue eyes met. With his free hand Flint wiped away one of the stray tears.
“Just remember it is not the things we have done that define us but the things we chose to do. Everyone here has skeletons in their closet; some are worse than others. The control won’t come easy but in time it will come.”
Wiping away another tear, Flint leaned against the wall across from Talia slowly sliding down the smooth surface until he was again seated on the floor.
“Let’s wipe up those tears now. When you’re ready we can go back in. People will probably start wondering why we have been gone so long.”
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Jan 2, 2016 1:06:01 GMT -5
Still sobbing softly, Talia continued to listen to Flint’s words and to her it sounded as if they were pretty much on the same page in regard to their beliefs about the current topic. Her senses made her aware of his approach, but what she didn’t expect was when he suddenly raised her chin and looked into her eyes, speaking kind words to her while wiping away her tears.
No one had ever really tried to comfort her before, but then she had rarely if ever opened up to anyone before. But not even her own mother ever really just listened to her feelings and tried to understand. She always seemed content to let the past be past and never speak of it. When she briefly looked into Flint’s eyes she saw a familiar sight. The same emptiness that always stared back at her in the mirror.
She just stared at Flint for several minutes, still sniffling every once in awhile and then she wiped away a few tears. “I’m honestly not sure anyone in there is going to be very happy to see me come back...aside from that overly arrogant comic book villain on stage”, she said with a slight frown.
“Wonder what sort of skeletons that guy has in his closet, probably plenty worse than either of us I’d guess”, she said with a slight smile as she wiped away the last of her tears.
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Jan 2, 2016 13:48:36 GMT -5
“Who knows what his skeletons are. One of them could be those huge eyebrows. We are going to have to sketch those into the yearbook.”
The sound of weeping had stopped and Talia seemed to be feeling a little better. A small smile spread across Flint’s lips as he thought of the intimidating teacher, forever pictured with monstrous bushy eyebrows. Just that one feature had made him seem angrier but harmless, kind of like a Chihuahua. Of course the eyebrows had fixed themselves rather quickly, but who could forget what had once been.
“I don’t really think it matters if the others want to see you again or not. We are kind of stuck here for now so it’s not like you can avoid them forever. You have to face them sometime and I don’t think it will be as bad as you think. Sure, some of them will be afraid, but a few might think it was amazing. I thought it was pretty impressive.”
Rising to his feet, Flint took a few steps toward the gymnasium door before stopping abruptly. A thought crossed his mind causing his to turn back toward Talia. Small ice particles began swirling in his palm. At first it looked like a small blizzard, some of the fragments collided and merged creating large pieces. Under his breath Flint uttered a word in the language of the Gelhaim and the small blizzard suddenly imploded into a solid crystal the size of a cherry. Its hexagonal shape glistened in his hand. As light entered the crystal it was torn apart and stitched back together before exiting creating the illusions that rainbows danced at its center.
“If you ever want to talk and I’m not around just break this. Now come on, the next demonstration could be starting soon and we wouldn’t want to miss it.”
Tossing the crystal to Talia, Flint turned and continued his journey to the door.
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Jan 2, 2016 21:19:53 GMT -5
Talia chuckled lightly at Flint’s joke regarding Silumas’ eyebrows and sketching them in the yearbook. It had seemed like forever since she talked with someone that actually had a sense of humor or at least one that she was able to appreciate.
“Maybe we can present him with an award at the end of the school year for ‘most impressive eyebrows’ and make him feel all warm and cuddly inside”, she joked.
She thought over what Flint said about them being stuck here and she realized that he was right. Her mother had sent her here because she didn’t know what else to do with her since she couldn’t always control her abilities. Talia wanted to believe that she had done it with the best intentions, but the look of relief in her mother’s eyes as she left still left her feeling cold and alone. Without any other place to go and knowing she would be a danger anywhere she did go this school, at least for now, seemed like the best place for her at present.
Talia was surprised at the strange ice crystal that was suddenly gifted to her and surprisingly it didn’t even feel cold like ice should. Her vibrational senses could only tell her that there was something odd about the crystal’s molecular vibrations. It definitely wasn’t a normal piece of ice, infact it almost looked more like a diamond shimmering with rainbows as the light passed through it. Then Flint told her that if she ever wanted to talk and he wasn’t around to break the crystal, so obviously it was no diamond if it could be broken.
“I...thanks”, she managed to stutter. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had given her anything other than gifts that she got from her mother and the few relatives she had back home during the holidays.
She was still unsure about returning to the auditorium, but Flint’s attitude and his words seemed to give her confidence that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Looking over the crystal once more she slipped it into her left pocket and then stood up. With a deep breath she hurried to catch up to Flint as he approached the doors. She wasn’t certain what sort of reception awaited her inside, but she felt better now after finally opening up to someone.
“Wonder if we missed anything big.”
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Post by Cendra on Jan 2, 2016 23:29:58 GMT -5
“Why don't we do a quick assessment for now.” Belwyn guided Garth gently back into the chair. “My power allows me to pinpoint any sites of injury in the body and in some cases repair damage done.” She took his hand again once he was seated. “Now, the sensation is a little bit different for everyone, but it wont be anything painful.” She explained softly and bowed her head. She thought for a moment then proceeded to close her eyes as well. Eyes turning from their normal light blue color to deep black at the use of her powers might be a little disconcerting to the students she decided.
Belwyn's eyebrows scrunched together as she concentrated on Garth, picturing the different systems in her mind as she felt their condition. His respiratory and digestive systems seemed be the cause of his problems. They sustained mild chronic damage, which wasn't exactly surprising considering it was inflicted by his powers. This obviously wasn't the first time he'd used them. It also explained why he looked so sickly to begin with. He was probably eating enough, but his body was unable to extract the amount of nutrition he needed from the food. As for his lungs, they didn't seem to the filtering the air right with the over producing mucus, hence the deep coughing and bloody phlegm. Perhaps she could offer his body some relief from the stress for the next few days.
Blue eyes snapped open and Belwyn's head whipped around as the ground began to shake. Before she even knew what was happening, Garth was on his feet, flames of flashing color blocking the falling debris that had been heading straight for Ben and herself. Silumas quickly reinforced the rest of the building, stopping anymore pieces of the auditorium from falling away. Talia ran out of the room in a panic and Flint followed more slowly after her.
Belwyn jumped up to help Garth as he began to sway on his feet again and dissolved into another coughing fit. It was too soon for his body to handle more of the power it seemed.
“Thanks for quick thinking.” Belwyn wrapped his arm around her shoulders so she could lead him to the nurses office. “Now lets go get you patched up some. Perhaps the nurses office isn't such a bad idea after all.” She tried to keep her breathing steady with the stress of Garth's weight on her as they walked slowly out the door and into the hallway. Looking down the hall she saw Flint standing down the way from the girl's restroom. She gave him a questioning look, but he waved her on, so on she went with her patient in the opposite direction.
Not too far along, they reached their destination. As they stepped inside it was clear that this was anything, but an ordinary nurses station. There were, of course the normal tools you would see like, bandages, disinfectant, and the like, but there were also hanging planters on the walls filled with different herbs and flowers. Running water was heard from the corner of the room where a small stone water fountain gurgled happily.
Belwyn guided Garth to one of the cushioned chairs along the wall and let him take a seat.
“Well, I can heal some of it now,” she said putting her hand to his forehead, “but I would like you to stop by my office again later this week. Maybe we can come up with something you can use to help yourself when I'm not around.” Belwyn grew a little pale and cleared her throat softly as she began to take on the boy's symptoms. She would probably feel like she had a bad cold for a few hours, but his healing should last for a few days before regressing again. It depended on how much he used his powers.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Jan 3, 2016 9:18:21 GMT -5
“Almudena Madeiro,” Thyra requested, hesitantly. “Si!” Almudena vaulted to her feet, her desk bucking up on two legs. She turned, and flashed a smile at Deandre, “Try to keep your jaw off the floor, ‘kay Literato?” She bounced up to the stage, and took the steps two at a time. “Oi! I’m Almudena Madeiro, but you all can call me Alma!” Her voice echoed through the room, even though Thyra had discretely switched off the microphone as the girl had bounded up the steps. “I’m from Mejico. Though you all probably figured that out by now, por supuesto,” She beamed, “I grew up in Iztapalapa, you guys know it as part of el Ciudad de Mejico. I’m from a boarding school, so I can show all you newbies the ropes. Por ejemplo, the best snacks to keep in your dorm, the best times to do your laundry, the best ways to distract the deans so you can get away with stuff-” “I’ll catch you yet, Madeiro!” Emily shouted, playfully shaking her fist. “Ah, si! Esto me recuerdo,” Almudena slapped the podium with a percussive bang, “Back home, my good friends called me Almudena ‘Mas Duro’.”¬¬
“Wait, isn’t ‘Mas Duro’ something people say during sex?” Jay asked the others in the bleachers quizzically, not checking the volume on his inquiry. After a pause for comprehension, the entire room erupted into titters and stifled laughs.
Almudena pursed her lips as the other students reacted, and brought a hand up, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. After a moment, her smile returned, even bigger and brighter than before. “Si,” She threw her chin forward, puffed out her chest, and planted her feet wide apart, brazos en jarras. Almudena inhaled deeply, seemingly getting taller with the breath. Her eyes gleaming, she jerked a thumb towards her bosom, then retorted, “And I’m the reason why!”
If the room had been smoldering with barely repressed laughter before, it went up in flames now. The room dissolved into pandemonium, some students cackling, others elbowing eachother in the ribs, and some doing their best to look respectable as everybody else went crazy. Dalisay had nabbed somebody else’s textbook, and was currently holding it over her head like an umbrella.
“Enough,” Thyra spoke, snuffing out the conflagration with a single word. Almudena shot the woman a nervous glance.
“Uh…” Alma for once found herself without words, attempting a dismissive shrug, “En fin, I’ll show you guys my power now.”
Almudena hopped down from the stage, keeping her knees close together and pinning her skirt down with one hand. She landed in a crouch, her short hair falling messily around her face. Springing back up, she swept her bangs out of the way, tucking them behind her ears.
She purposefully strode over to the largest uncarved ice column left standing from Flint’s demonstration, and paced around it briefly, gauging it. Most of the others had either already started to melt or toppled during Talia’s demo, but this one was the size of a telephone booth, if not a little more robust. It’d work.
“Of course, Mas Duro can mean lots of things,” Almudena drew back her right fist, the transparent force once more appearing hovering above her forearm, “Por ejemplo, it can also mean-“
“More determined!” The pugilist lunged forward, throwing a haymaker of a punch. Before her knuckles, a battering ram of kinetic energy exploded forth. The blow slammed into the frigid monolith with a crunch that sounded like a high speed car accident, shards of ice exploding out to all sides. Alma’s punch has blasted out a chunk the size of an arm chair, leaving the huge hunk of rime teetering precariously.
“More intense!” Almudena pivoted on her feet, twirling around her target. She kept her right hand extended out to the side, looking almost like she was swinging a gigantic translucent flail. Alma took hold of her wrist with her left hand, bracing it. She spun to the opposite side of the pillar, putting all the force both arms could muster into a sweeping blow. There was a loud whoosh, like standing near a freeway as a huge truck shot by. Her whirling strike blasted out the remaining chunk supporting the column, sending it flying across the room. It slammed into a wall roughly twenty feet up, embedding itself in the concrete. The monolith itself fell sideways, landing across its former base at a skewed angle, reminiscent of a see-saw. Almudena gave a sparkling grin, planted her feet, and drove a sledgehammer blow into the raised end.
The car-sized hoary mass went flipping skywards, launched almost into the rafters despite weighing hundreds, if not thousands of pounds. Almudena looked up, and took two steps back, centering herself under the looming behemoth. She flashed another beaming grin, and gave a double thumbs up to the rest of the students, even as the gargantuan slab plummeted towards her.
“MORE BADASS!” Almudena brought her fists up in a double uppercut, twin bursts of force blossoming forth before her. They crashed into the center of the falling glacier. It hung in midair for a moment, as if gravity had been negated. An instant later, it was bisected by a jagged white fissure as Almudena’s dual blow plowed straight through it and erupted out the other side. The two hunks slammed into the floor on either side of her, cratering the flooring and hitting hard enough to make the desks jump.
Almudena brought her hands down, dusting them off as a shower of snowflakes rained around her. She was still smiling ear to ear, panting heavily.
“So, in a word, me,” She began casually strolling back to her seat, “Por supuesto, Mas Duro can also just mean ‘Harder’.”
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Jan 3, 2016 20:11:45 GMT -5
Echoing from the gym to the hallway, a loud voice told Flint that the next power demonstration was beginning. Unlike previous demonstrations this one seemed to invoke laughter from the students who had remained in the room. At first the laughter was nearly inaudible but it quickly grew, flooding the corridor. Another loud voice broke through the laughter causing it to halt. Stopping near the door, Flint could feel one of his pillars crumble from a powerful impact. As he pushed the doors open a flurry of razor sharp ice shards raced toward him. Despite the danger he calmly walked back toward the group of desks he had originally occupied. Each icy projectile arched harmlessly around his body before embedding themselves in the wall behind him. Shortly after the rain of death had ceased Flint could feel another cluster flying in his direction. Unlike the previous pieces this one was intact and had considerable weight. Stopping in his tracks he saw the icy slab rocket past just inches in front of him. Its polished surface reflected Flint’s face like a mirror. He could see Talia’s reflection as well; she had followed him through the door and dealt with the ice shower in her own way.
Finally reaching his seat, Flint perched himself on top of a nearby desk. The desk with a broken leg still laid on its side, rubble from the past few demonstrations had piled on top of its remaining good legs bending them beyond repair. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a lollipop and peeled off its wrapper. Stuffing the treat into his mouth, Flint leaned back on the desk and watched Almudena split another pillar in half with brute force.
“I can’t decide who is more annoying, her or Emily. She is destroying my art.” Flint thought to himself as he pulled the lollypop from his mouth. “It is impressive though.”
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Post by Cendra on Jan 3, 2016 20:56:11 GMT -5
Eira and Aodhan decided they rather liked the snug little fort the Mexican girl had made for them. The black haired girl was quick on her feet, that was for sure. The twins had been more than happy to comply as she pulled them down and created the desk construct to shield them from the oncoming debris. It had a nice five inch slit in between the desks where they could still watch the remaining demonstrations, but now they did it in relative safety. Eira raised an eyebrow at her brother as he opened his grey sack and pulled out a small, deep green blanket with “Ireland Airlines” printed in the corner.
“You stole one of the blankets from the plane?” The corners of her mouth turned up in amusement. Aodhan grinned back at her.
“They throw them out after anyways.” He shrugged and crawled out long enough to drape the blanket over the back of their fort. Now that it was complete they both sat happily cross legged on the floor leaning in towards the slit as Ben took the stage.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harue sat pensively on the edge of her seat as she brushed off the dust from her person. At this point, she was thinking that perhaps just staying ready to duck and cover was best. She looked over at the twin's fort a little enviously as giggles erupted from inside. If she was any younger, she probably would have crawled in there with them. She took a deep breath. There was definitely going be some serious stress management time after today.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jesse leaned back contently in her chair, hands behind her head as she watched Ben shift his form. Maybe she really should have been more specific about the whole “dodging hint” she'd given to Harue. The white haired girl seemed to be sitting on pins and needles. She was doing really well so far though!
Judging from the panicked whispers behind her, she wasn't the only one on edge anyway. Personally Jesse didn't see what everyone was stressing over. They were already more than half way done with demonstrations and they hadn't even had one casualty! That was at least 60% better than any of the other realities she knew of.
Jesse tipped back in the chair again as Alma took the stage. The girl's easy going nature seemed to ease some of the previous tensions in the room and even got the room laughing. Why no one had laughed at her joke, she would never know. Perhaps she needed to start off with a shock factor next time...
Applause and whistles came from the desk fort next to Jesse as Alma slammed the ice pillar into the wall. Glancing to her right she saw Harue hiding behind her chair again and shook her head. Hopefully this year wouldn't be too rough for her classmate. It was bound to continue escalating from here.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jan 4, 2016 13:23:12 GMT -5
The squeak of rubber on polished wood followed Deandre as he crawled on hands and knees across the floor, jostling unoccupied chairs aside with his elbows and heedlessly carrying on (he would have feared this behavior could be seen as rude, if so many chairs hadn't already been knocked awry by Flint's and Talia's demonstrations). Hearing someone named Ben identify himself onstage, Deandre spared a glance to see the sporty-looking boy who had rushed to Garth's aid earlier. Quick. Write it down. Ben Something. Lexan? Something. He paused and sat back on his haunches, staring around the glossy floor. Surely Talia hadn't opened a crack in the...? Nowhere that he could see. They'd all taken a good rattling but the planks had held together. Ben was describing his power, shapeshifting, shapeshifting, well there'd be no forgetting that. Just only if Deandre could find the pen. Find the pen. Groping about half-attentively, trying to observe the event and find the means to describe it in the same moment, Deandre watched in fits and starts while the athletic boy transformed into something altogether different, something hunched and hooked, like a chair getting ready to pounce, he thought stupidly, though even as stupid as it was he would have written that down if he could. There were gasps, some of shock, some of admiration, but one boy in the bleachers had fallen back, breathing heavily, and had to be supported by his friends. It was the electronics boy, Carlos. Hue. Hugh. Hew. Hyoo. H U. Write it down. Only don't. What business is it of yours? They were exclaiming over him; a teacher had rushed to look after him; but the boy was stirring back to consciousness. Will you write it? Back to his human state, Ben hovered onstage, sure, Deandre didn't doubt, as he himself was, and everyone was probably, that it was the sporty boy's transformation that had triggered Carlos' panic. By and by, he saw himself off, prompting applause from some, hesitant claps from others, and silence from those nearest to Carlos. Unsure of whether to applaud or not, Deandre contented himself by slapping the wooden floor a few times as he searched on. That was one demonstration completely past. Remember it. Ben Lexan. Shapeshifter. Carlos. You'll remember it. You won't forget. Don't forget. Write it down. One demonstration past and the alphabet not even half gone. Who was next? Who hadn't he seen yet? The other, taller black boy at Carlos' side... and the Scottish girl, Nessa - poor Dalisay - and -
"Almudena Madeiro."
Deandre's eyes widened. He straightened up on his knees and turned back to see Alma kicking off onto her feet. With a cheeky grin down at Deandre, she called "Try to keep your jaw off the floor, 'kay, Literato?"
Dumbfounded, el Literato watched her leap onto the stage, plaid skirt whipping around her knees, and take the podium with a voice of inimitable confidence. Deandre had to tear his eyes back down to the floor to search for the pen, entirely missing the name of the area she was from, except that it was part of Mexico City. Write it down, you idiot, write it or it'll be gone someday. He propped himself up with a hand on an empty desk to look over the surrounding area. Alma - or Almudena, which he liked more, didn't he? Though who was he to decide how she should be called? - no, Almudena had been to boarding school already (with the penguins?) and knew the ins and outs. She was definitely one of the most exuberant speakers. She'd taken Miss Russell's "tell us something about yourself" to heart. Deandre hadn't, had he? Other than that he was from the US, he'd told them nothing else... Couldn't he have given them something, if not a demonstration? But without a demonstration, how could he justify wasting their time with words about himself? Deandre looked aside with a furrowed brow. He didn't need to pile on a third thing to concentrate on just now. Self-reproach could wait. Better to find the pen. Write it down. As if on cue, Almudena struck the podium with enough force and sound to wrench his attention back. "Back home, my good friends called me Almudena 'Mas Duro'," she announced.
"Isn't 'mas duro' something people say during sex?" the other black boy instantly wondered aloud, causing a ripple of barely-suppressed laughter around the room. Deandre clapped a hand over his eyes and snorted in spite of himself. A glance up at the front of the room, though carefully avoidant of Almudena, revealed CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE glowering resolutely at the ceiling, fingers interlaced on his lap, and this and the Mexican girl's proud response - "And I'm the reason why!" - were enough to set Deandre off again. While the rest of the auditorium erupted with guffaws, he pressed his face into his sleeve and buried his laughter in the folds of the hoodie. His face was feeling warm again. Covering half of it with his palm, he looked back up to the stage, grinning.
At a word from Miss Russell, Almudena wrapped up the introduction and took a heavy jump offstage, then strode over to one of the remaining ice pillars from Flint's demonstration, not far from where Alma's and Garth's group had been sitting. As students scooted their chairs aside to part the way for her, Deandre glimpsed a familiar flash of navy blue on the floor where her beige flats passed: The pen! How had it rolled off that way? That was the opposite direction from where he'd seen it bounce during Talia's demonstration. It didn't matter. In the general laughter over the other black boy's comment, Deandre hadn't put a thought to how much he was missing. Now he scrambled back and discreetly retrieved the ballpoint pen from the cleared path behind Almudena before ducking back into his seat. At last he pulled the book open again. He quickly wrote down
BEN LEXAN - SHAPESHIFT - CARLOS -
on the latest unfilled page before looking back up at Almudena.
"Of course, 'mas duro' can mean lots of things. Por ejemplo, it can also mean - more determined!" She threw a punch that sent a projectile of force into the ice pillar, blowing out a significant chunk and weakening it. "More intense!" Another punch, and the pillar's support was entirely stricken away, leaving it to collapse at an angle onto the floor. Almudena brought her fists directly downward and flipped what remained of the massive chunk of ice into the air.
Quite a few students nearby shouted and shrank back, and CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE and the teacher with the messenger bag, the one who had attended to Carlos, both leapt to their feet, ready to intervene, but Almudena stood firm. His heart in his throat, Deandre had only a moment to process the sickly sight of the miniature glacier arcing down upon her stout figure before the girl shouted "More badass!" and jabbed both fists upward. The energy from her hands held the ice in midair for a second, then split it entirely in two, the hunks landing powerfully but harmlessly to either side, leaving the snowflake-dusted schoolgirl standing triumphant in between.
After a stunned moment, the auditorium erupted into the wildest applause since, perhaps, Flint's demonstration, if not Garth's. Paying no heed to the snowflakes melting into drops on the open pages of his notebook, Deandre clapped along, as loudly as he could, as Almudena Madeiro shook her hair out and strutted back toward their seats, her dark eyes shining. In the effort to keep his smile in decent proportion, the pen lay idle next to the book.
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 14, 2016 22:19:13 GMT -5
Clop clop clop clop clop clop clop clop clop clop clop clop
As the applause in the auditorium died down, a sound not quite unlike a cantering horse could be heard echoing out in the hallway and through the open door. The noise grew louder, and to those with a more discerning ear, it became more apparent that it was not the sounds of hooves on linoleum, but something of a facsimile. Like someone banging coconuts together for movie sound effects.
When the sound reached its peak, what appeared to be a pure black pony sauntered into the auditorium. Saunter was not quite the right word; the pony's legs moved more like noodles than muscles around bones, and the coconut sound was very obviously not in sync with each foot fall.
Atop the pony was a young looking girl, 11 or 12 at first glance, sitting side saddle and wearing a shadow black dress with bright blue embroidery. The bottom of her dress seemed to fade into the pony's body. A cowboy hat of the same color crowned the girl's raven-with-orange-highlights hair. She carried a parasol over her shoulder, despite the lack of direct sunlight.
"Howdy pardners!" Vieve said with a huge smile and a terribly overdone accent. Someone in the stands yelled howdy right back. "We were playing hide and seek and lost track of time. Sorry Miss Thyra!"
Attached to Vieve's parasol was a black rope trailing out the door. The Dawnchild gave it a small tug and a boy with neatly combed hair and pressed collar stumbled forward. "Say hello to Franky, everyone!"
Franky gave a sheepish grin at Vieve and everyone else in attendance. "Miss Vieve," attract more flies with honey than vinegar, "thanks for bringing me here but I don't think the ropes were really necessary."
"Hahaha Franky I'm on to you! You would've just escaped and play time is supposed to be over, young man." It is really weird hearing someone who looks younger than me call me a 'young man.' "Now, go sit with all your new friends."
With that, Vieve clapped her hands. A set of tattoos along her palm got darker, and the rope of shadow tying up Franky's hands dissipated. Vieve lifted her parasol and jumped off her pony, the fake animal also dissipating with a wave of her tattooed left arm. Instead of walking to the bleachers, the little girl skipped toward the teachers table, spun around and sat down, a chair forming underneath her out of her shadow. Vieve touched one of the tattoos on her shoulder and blackness enveloped the jug of chocolate milk on the refreshment table. She placed a hand above the teacher's table and the jug rose out of her palm's shadow. With a twirling finger, Vieve conjured up a black tea cup, poured chocolate milk into it, and raised it to her lips with lady like poise. It was then that she froze.
In fact, the entire room had frozen excluding Franky. "Thank God," he muttered to himself, rubbing his wrist.
"So that all played out well," he said to no one in particular again. Franky had been deliberately caught after orientation started. He was originally planning on being on time like all the sheeple, but after sneaking--well, not sneaking, more casually walking while time was stopped--into the dean's office to look over the files of the others attending Terminer, he realized he was dealing with some pretty extraordinary kids. This wasn't like his previous schools where he slipped in, got straight A's as the exemplary student in the classroom, and outside fostered a reputation as the kid who could get stuff done for you if you were a friend.
Franky didn't know they were going to do demonstrations, but once he read over the schedule and what the other kids could do, he realized he couldn't go up on stage like everyone else. His powers weren't meant for showboating; they were meant for getting stuff done. These kids were impressive, but most of them didn't know it. Most were scared of their powers. And they had spent the last 20 minutes awkwardly pouring their hearts out for the first time, or the more experienced had spent it dressing to impress for the 100th time. The pillars of ice, scattered flower petals, and cracked walls proved that thought right. Franky just couldn't do any of that razzle dazzle.
What he could do, however, was walk in super late because he had just beat the pants off a TA at hide and seek, then look like he casually teleported to a desk like it was no big deal. Franky looked at the audience. There was the clique, definitely didn't want to sit with them. Talia in the corner wouldn't like her personal bubble ripped into so suddenly. Garth was one of those kids who had a long history in the file, and Almudena, too, so him appearing in their group like it was no big deal would actually be treated like no big deal. But appearing on the outskirts, maybe next to the big boy Ty... that could work. Be the odd man out, but like it's still no big deal.
Franky walked up to the empty seat next to Ty, carefully making sure he didn't touch anyone or anything besides the floor. He gingerly took a seat, took a breath, then leaned back with his arms behind his head. "And now enters Franklin Elijah Timberland."
Vieve took a sip from her cup then suddenly glared at Emily. "Miss Emily, I smell cupcakes on you."
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Post by Tout-Perd on Jan 24, 2016 13:03:29 GMT -5
“Howdy!” Emma Ray Jo whooped back, waving back to Vieve from her seat as the other girl came a-gallopin’ in on her catty-wompus horse. She bounded out of her seat, producing a sugar-cube from out of seemingly nowhere. The farmgirl moved briskly, her movements fast but steady to avoid spooking the varmint. She offered the critter the treat with her palm held flat, the horse nickering in response for a moment before its face snooted out like a melting candle and vacuumed the confection from her hand.
“Mahty fahn steed you got ‘ere,” Emma drawled, reaching out to scratch its forehead. The haint-horse dissipated into a cloud of shades swirling like tobacky smoke on an airish day, the sugar cube skittering across the floor.
“Aw, shucks. Twasn’t mah fault that critter disappearated, waren’t it?”
“Of course not, Miss Jo!” Emily flounced down from the stage, “Ray Jo? McCrowley Ray Jo? I never can get that name straight. But anyways-“ Emily fanned her hands out to either side, producing a pair of cupcakes, “Of course! I wouldn’t forget a key member of our faculty, such as yourself!”
Emily tossed a black cupcake frosted in stark white, a spidery black design airbrushed across the top, to the Dawnchild.
“It’s black velvet with a cherry-cream cheese filling and frosting!”
She chucked the other one to Emma Ray Jo, who caught it without so much as looking towards it.
“...Tarnation,” Emma Ray Jo glowered at the miniature cake, which apparently had been stuck through with enough candy corn that it looked like an actual cob.
”Oh, come on. I’m not actually that evil!” Emily took hold of one of the kernels, and tugged. The baleful stockade of waxy candies unfurled from around the cupcake like an unspooling garden hose, dangling from a piece of floss. By the time she was done, a rich tan frosted cupcake with large brown crystals of sugar sprinkled across the top was left, only small pockmarks to attest to its former veneer.
“Molasses and ginger, of course!”
In contrast to most of the other young’un’s who would have been a mite peckish when confronted with such a treat, Emma Ray Jo heartily chomped into it and chewed thoughtfully.
“Golly! Land sakes alive, y’all fix vittles so plum divahn, ah’d thahnk ya were from th’ heavenly choir!” She clapped Emily on the back with her sticky mitt.
“I have no idea what you said, but I’m going to assume it’s a good thing!” Emily retorted, throwing her own arm over the farmgirl’s shoulder.
“Emma Ray Jo McCrowley,” Thyra read off from the stage.
“Jes’ a second,” Emma Ray Jo slipped free of Emily, and set to frantically masticatin’ what was left of her treat.
“If we could please get back to the demonstrations,” The superintendent insisted, firmly but politely.
“Hold on t’ yer britches,” Emma Ray Jo shoved the rest of the cupcake into her mouth, and stepped up to the stage.
Verdant motes began bubbling up around her hands, coalescing around her fingertips. She lowered her hands and pinched her fingers as if plucking something invisible from the earth. To either side of her, cornstalks burst up from the solid wooden flooring, pushing into her palms.
Lifted by the twin stalks, Emma Ray Jo stepped onto the stage, and turned to face the class.
“Well, howdy, y’all! Ah’m Emma Ray Jo McCrowley, but y’all kin jes call me Emma Ray Jo!” She was greeted by a variety of baffled stares. One of the boys on the bleachers, who had been lookin’ as if’n he was going to lit out of there sat down, almost involuntarily like one of those faintin’ goats, upon hearing her voice. He gawped incredulously, and then mouthed something to his classmates.
“Ah’m from Brahtmeadow,” She offered.
“Brightmeadow,” The superintendent clarified.
“If ye’s from there, y’know it’s called Brahtmeadow,” Emma Ray Jo stamped one of her boots for emphasis.
Thyra paused, and thought for a moment. She’d always heard it called Brightmeadow, but who was she to say? There was no better way to earn the ire of a Salcesterish than pronouncing it Sal-sest-er, when anybody who’d been there more than a week could tell you the only right way to say it was Sal-stuh.
“Uhm, actually, it’s not...” Garth meekly raised his hand as he re-entered the gym, looking the rosiest Thyra had ever seen him. He didn’t even stumble or stagger as he made his way back to his seat by Ben.
“Shucks, y’all pitch the hay from’n the back forty on a day so hot the tar on the roofs is a-runnin’ lahk the Mississippi, an’ then Ah’ll let y’all tell me how t’ say it,” Emma Ray Jo crossed her arms imperiously.
“Anyways, you do have a Power to demonstrate,” Thyra tactfully changed the subject, before the girl ended up madder then a... wet hornet? Wet hen? The superintendent realized with dismay that she’d never spent much time in the rural portions of the Archipelago.
“Ah do! Shucks, ‘course Ah do!” The girl announced proudly, thumping her chest with one hand. She paused, pontificating, and did a short lap around the stage.
“If y’all was wonderin’, mah Power is the conjurificating of crops. Corn, namely,” Emma Ray Jo took a moment to observe her crowd. About half the high schoolers seemed incredulous, the others bored, while the middle and elementary schoolers seemed much more eager to see what this meant.
”Fer example-” Emma Ray Jo made the pinching gesture again, this time pulling her left hand away from her right hand. A mass of light appeared in her palm, taking the shape of a large ear of corn. Without hesitatin’, she twisted her hips and hurled the ear out over the other students.
It detonated with a noise like a string of firecrackers, showering the front row of the crowd in a wave of popcorn. The fluffy kernels snowed down around the other students.
“That’s some of the fahnest feed corn in the whole of Brahtmeadow,” Emma Ray Jo lowered her hands to her sides, beginning to glow once more. “’course, Ah can manage a lot more than that.” She raised her hands out over the stalks that had lifted her onto the stage. She made the pulling gesture again, but looped the movement of her fingers as if she was tying a knot. The verdant light faded, turning into a clear fluid and raining down onto the ears at the end of each stalk.
The farmer pounced down from the stage, drawing her whittling knife from her boot. She landed in a crouch, and rode the momentum of her fall, twirling to dissipate the force. As she rose to her feet, the two stalks slowly fell into her waiting hands.
Slowly at first, Emma Ray Jo began spinning the stalks, each one whooshing loudly on each go-round. The staff and students nearest to her could smell the distinctive tang of alcohol in the air.
“Is that-?” Thyra began.
“Ayup. Moonshahn. Or Ethanol, if y’all wanna be all fancy-schmancy about it,” The youth didn’t break her stride, instead accelerating her swings. She threw one into the air, and spun forwards, catching it behind her back, “After all, t’ain’t nothin’ more than old corn, when y’all get down to brass tacks.”
“And you did this because?”
“’cuz this-” Emma Ray Jo threw the other stalk skywards, and drew her whittling knife once more. She skipped it off a piece of flint woven into a bracelet she wore, producing a spray of sparks. The ear at the end of the plant she held erupted into blue flames. She thrust it at the other stalk, igniting it as it landed in her grasp. She crossed them in front of her before spinning them outwards, rolling them around her wrists with arcs of cerulean fire trailing her every motion.
“Ah might seem purdy talented at this-” She released her grip on one stalk, striking it in the mid-air with the other one. It spun, creating a gyrating wheel of flame that danced around her. The yokel brought her free hand up, catching the free-wheeling plant by the roots. Shifting her grasp, she raised each stalk above head level, and dropped to her knees, bringing them down in symmetrical curtains of cornflower blue, the flames the same color as her eyes. Emma Ray Jo remained on the floor for a moment, as embers from the charred corn wafted down around her like lightnin’ bugs on a summer evening.
Dropping the charred husks, she rose back to her feet, and curtsied delicately.
“But shucks, y’all, ya git good fast when ya practice with pitchforks covered in horse pucky.”
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Post by ch00beh on Jan 25, 2016 19:50:34 GMT -5
"Oh, Miss Cowboy Lady, don’t worry about Mister Ponyface, he didn’t really disappear to nowhere.” Vieve pointed to a spot on her left arm near the elbow. Nestled between runes and glyphs was a tatto or a rearing horse from the side. It was just a silhouette in black with no further details.
Vieve touched the tattoo’s head with her pinky then rotated her hand to trace along a few other symbols. From Emma Ray Jo’s shadow sprang the pony’s head. Vieve made a wobbly gesture and the pony extended its neck in preposterous fashion tonoick up the fallen sugar cube. The head then got sucked back up through the farmgirl’s shadow.
It was then that Miss Emily satisfied Vieve’s greatest hopes and dreams and threw her a cupcake. Vieve jumped out of her shadow throne and caught the treat with both hands. Somehow, she managed to not touch the frosting.
“Haha spiders!” said Vieve as she saw the design. “Thank you Miss Emily!”
Vieve sat back down in her throne. As she did, the swirling blue embroidery on her dress shifted into spreading web-like patterns. She nibbled contentedly on the chocolate cupcake and watched Emma Ray Jo’s presentation, making sure to finish before the end so she could clap with real enthusiasm.
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Post by Cendra on Jan 30, 2016 15:44:24 GMT -5
Belwyn opened the window in her office letting in the fresh air and light she and her plants needed. She closed her eyes, taking took a deep breath despite her now stuffy nose. A look of peace came over her face, which now was visibly a shade or two paler. The moment to herself was much appreciated. Garth had left a few minutes earlier after thanking her for the treatment and the cold-like symptoms had taken full hold now. Grabbing a tissue on her way, Belwyn walked over to her essential oils shelf and selected some lemon and peppermint from it. It was time to give herself a little treatment. Once her water bottle was filled up with water, she put a drop of both oils in and shook it all together. “This should help with the stuffiness.” she mumbled to herself and took a good gulp of the now flavored water. Two small, blue butterflies danced through the window together as they entered the office, presumably attracted by the color and scent of the resident flowers. Belwyn smiled as they found a cluster of red they especially enjoyed. “Well, you two enjoy yourselves. I have to head back to work!” After grabbing a few more tissues (just in case) Belwyn left the office for the auditorium, making sure to shut the door behind her. I wouldn't do to have the butterflies get stuck inside the building somewhere. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Jesse watched as Dreandre wrote quickly in his book. His powers were different here it seemed, so she wasn't quite sure what he was writing. By the way he would look up around him and back down to write, she could only guess he was documenting what was going on in the room. “Well, if that's it- Oh! I could do that!” she thought and began rummaging through her school bag. “Oh, but maybe I should wrap it first...or is that too much?” she carried on looking until she heard the clop clop of hooves on the wood floor. Looking up she saw Vieve and Franklin enter the room. She didn't seem to know much about this Vieve, but Franklin was pretty spot on as far as she could tell. It had only been a few minutes though. Best to give it time. Emma began her presentation. It was really was quite a sight to see the corn plants grow so quickly. It reminded her of those time lapse videos that you would see on the internet sometimes or in wildlife documentaries. As the kernels of corn popped through the air, Jesse leaned back and opened her mouth wide. It was better than catching snowflakes! ~*~*~*~*~*~ “She's something of a bogtrotter, but it would'a been handy to have her around a few years ago.” Eira commented dryly as Emma finished her presentation. “Are you joking?! The bird is class! Takeout snacks and pub.” Aodhan grabbed the hat off of Eira's head and ruffled her hair playfully, “Besides, we made through well enough.” “Stop that! I already told you, you'll make it frizz!” She hissed out and swatted his hand away. “I'll look like a fuzzball.” Eira punched him in the arm. “Ow! Don't be hitting your elders!” “Stuff it. You don't even know who's the elder.” she said with a smirk, “I'm betting on me.” The boy stuck his tongue out and poked her in the sides with his fingers. Eira covered her mouth, suppressing the squeak of surprise. Her eyes narrowed into a glare as her brother tried to hold in a laugh of his own. ~*~*~*~*~*~ Now, popcorn was something Harue didn't mind getting hit with. She held her hands out as the tiny balls of white flew around the room. Her hat would have been perfect for this, but oh well. The the laughter and commotion of the popcorn catching soon died down and Miss Thyra took the stage again. “Would Harue Nekketsu please introduce herself.” Harue's stomach did a few flips as she stood from her seat and talked onto the stage. She smiled as confidently as she could and took a deep breath to calm herself. “Hello everyone! My name is Harue Nekketsu. I am 15 years old and am from Fukuoka, Japan.” Harue looked out at the crowd and clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from shaking. There was a short pause as Jesse gave her a thumbs up and wink from the audience. Harue's cheeks turned a little pink with embarrassment, but her smile was a little more genuine than before. “So, a little about myself. Um, my hair is naturally white like this. It runs in my family.” her hand moved up to fiddle with the white section of the strands. “That's usually the first question I get asked when I'm in a new class or school.” She thought for a moment. “I'm not really sure what else to say about myself, so I guess I'll just talk about my ability. I have a type of fire power I guess you could say, but it's nothing like what Garth can do. My blood is what sets things on fire, but don't worry, I'm not accident prone.” She attempted to joke, “I was trying to think of a way I could demonstrate, but I hope you don't mind that I didn't come up with something. I just didn't feel like getting hurt.” She glanced over at Thyra who nodded approval. “It's been wonderful to meet you all and to see all your demonstrations. Thank you.” she tried to keep a slow pace on her words, but rushed a bit in end, her anxiousness to get back to her seat winning. Harue's face grew a shade redder as she walked off stage. Public speaking was not something she enjoyed, but she felt she did pretty well even if she didn't have a presentation. OOC: Sorry to take so long everyone. I've been swamped with home and work stuff. Trying to come up with a schedule that includes more writing though.
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Post by Yoshimitsu on Feb 8, 2016 11:43:00 GMT -5
She looked about twelve, dark hair and dark clothes and she was riding on something that couldn't exist according to... there were probably laws of physics or biology that said 'This Thing Should Not Exist', and yet, there it was. Tallis made to leave his seat. "Nah, that's my bullshit quotient reached, laters," he said flippantly before someone caught his wrist and yanked him back into his seat. "You sit your ass down," Ethan ordered with a frown seriously stop using that expression and Tallis folded his arms, the most defiant he could be in this situation since Ethan could probably turn him into a fine mist with one punch. This was getting to be too much. Now they had some girl who could probably wreck the entire room if she was pissed off, a horse that had no right being what it was, and teeth
breath
rancid pain
blood
ben he shook his head, trying to get rid of Claire's eyes flickering over to him was bad enough. Hell, he couldn't be sure if he'd sort-of zoned out of reality for a second. It felt like he had, given that suddenly there was corn everywhere and there was a pretty distinct smell that couldn't be healthy. No, he definitely had. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and down too far to be because his ears were cold. "Ethan Qadir, would you please take the stage?" Tallis saw the excitement flicker into Ethan's face for a second, and then felt himself being yanked up before it registered what was happening, his hood falling back and stumbling to keep his feet hitting the ground with any consistency what the fuck Ethan get off. "I dunno the bullshit of what you did to the floor but it'll work, trust me," Ethan was saying and Tallis finally got his feet underneath him, just in time to slide to a halt. He straightened up and fixed his friend with the most skeptical look he could. Not skeptical enough, based on Ethan's grin you couldn't think out a good plan if your life depended on it and immediate departure to the main stage. Muttering curses under his breath, Tallis went back to the panel that he'd already probably caused security issues over. It hadn't been covered up yet, so he felt his way through the holographic interface and let the lights flood his mind. To anyone else, it might have been just a series of zeroes and ones, but it was paths and walkways and different turns he could take, like a maze. He hijacked the ceiling and made a camera spawn, just so he could keep an eye on everything that was going on while still interfacing. Ethan was taking the stage and let's see what he does. "My name is Ethan," he said, and Tallis saw the completely pointed looks at cupcake-lady and the Superintendent. "I'm a petty thief and I'm stronger than anyone else in this room." Tallis zoomed in on the girl who had shattered the ice pillars and clocked her shit-eating grin and is she just flashing two okay signs at him? Weird. Creepy teacher was looking bored, which was pretty much par for the course when he wasn't dishing out creepy scrolls. The surfer-dude I still don't get why he's wearing those clothes looked interested. Ethan was turning back to the surfer-dude now. "What's the heaviest weight lifted on record?" He asked, and Tallis knew for a fact that Ethan knew the answer to that, he'd caught the broader boy googling it a few days ago. Was this a game? Was Ethan playing a game what the fuck I didn't think he knew how to play games because if it was, Ethan should probably stick to his other strengths, and still Tallis wasn't really sure what his part in all this was. He was interfacing with this alien technology because Ethan had asked him to, and yeah it was easy enough there are lights flashing and I'm getting bored but if he didn't have direction, he wasn't interested. "Six thousand, two hundred and seventy pounds," the shorts-wearing-teacher piped up, and Tallis saw him sitting with his elbows on his knees. "That's right," Ethan replied, nodding. "Tallis, can you give me a set of weights that are that heavy?" That heavy? I haven't even figured out how this technology works yet there were flashes of light and voids and paths to follow. Tallis let his mind go blank and saw the lights, flickering on and off at every junction and he needed to follow junctions and backtrack to what he wanted and it was a maze of possibilities that he could see. The nanoweave of the floor in front of the stage started rippling and building. Tallis took a few shortcuts through the lights he could see, keeping an eye on how Ethan dropped from the stage. Tallis smashed the biggest button on the console and turned away, keeping his left hand in the interface. It wasn't just a trick of the camera. The barbell weights he'd made out of the nanoweave had a diameter that was roughly the same size as Ethan. "Hey Kilik, try lifting this!" How the hell has he memorised the teachers' names before I did what the fuckThe board-shorts teacher jumped down and rested a hand on the handle-bar between the weights. The look was skeptical, Tallis figured are you doubting me or Ethan but he made an attempt to lift the weights. It was a pretty piss-poor attempt, as though he knew just how heavy the weights actually were and didn't look like he was putting that much effort into it. One aborted try and he just shrugged. "Yep. They're heavy," he supplied, stepping back to lean against the stage wonder why he hasn't gone back to his seat. "Really? I don't think so," Ethan replied with a sarcastic smirk. I'm pretty sure that's not the right posture for weightlifting the weights were off the ground and Ethan was lifting them effortlessly, like they were made of cardboard and not a densified nanoweave polymer of probably-alien origin. Ethan did a few reps of lifting, then let the entire set fall to the ground with a crash that shook the entire gym. Even Kilik was looking impressed, which his friend would probably let go straight to his head if he turned around to see the expression. "I don't know if you wanna give it a go, with your ghosty hand thing," Ethan added, looking directly at Almudena, but there was a lighthearted tone to his voice and Tallis grinned at him, taking his hands out of the holographic interface. The weight set melted back into the floor as Ethan walked past it and climbed the bleachers back to his seat. Lost steam towards the end here, but really, Ethan's super strength legitimately isn't interesting to write about
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Post by Tout-Perd on Feb 17, 2016 10:12:07 GMT -5
“Well, golly! Ah’d wager all the hamhocks in Iowa that that fella could muck stalls lahk a man possessed!” Emma Ray Jo whooped, waving a half-eaten ear of roasted corn.
“¿A poco?” Almudena muttered under her breath as Jay walked down from the stage. She tapped her foot against the floor, demanding Deandre’s attention.
”He makes a big challenge, si? But notice how he had his buddy take the weights away before I could go up there and show him up. Pinche naco,” Almudena found something interesting to stare at in the direction exactly opposite Deandre, “Por supuesto, I couldn’t actually pick up those weights. I’m only human. But I could put ‘em in the rafters.”
“Me hace lo que el viento a Juarez,” Alma shrugged, “Guys like that talk muy macho, but it’s ‘cause they got nothing to back it up. Bet you if you split his lip in a fight, he’d fold right then and there.”
Almudena turned back towards Deandre, taking her lower lip between her thumb and her pointer finger. She folded it down, revealing several scars across the inside of her lip.
Without bothering to let go, she spoke.
”Me? I don’t have that problem.”
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 8, 2016 0:38:54 GMT -5
“Dalisay? Dalisay Salazar?” Thyra glanced around the room. After a moment, the little girl extricated herself from under her desk. She cautiously started towards the front of the room. A noise came from the bleachers, and she whirled about, her pigtails fluffing. It had only been one of the teenagers, kicking their feet up on the row below. Good, still no sign of them. Another few steps, another noise- This time, she managed to restrain herself to a simple glance. It was the blonde boy, Garth, opening the door to the gym. He met her gaze, and gave a friendly grin. Whatever the school nurse had done, he was looking even healthier and rosier than before he’d given his demonstration. Demonstration, right. Dalisay grudgingly began walking towards the superintendent, taking deep, paced breaths. The last thing on earth that she wanted was to give a demonstration for everybody. She took the stairs like she was walking up to the gallows. There was a thump- One of the twins had just upended another desk. Dalisay found herself wishing she was bold enough to make something comfortable like their little fort, but then again, she was disruptive enough without kicking over furniture on her own. “Hello, everybody-” Stupid, stupid, why’d she need to say ‘everybody’? The longer she stood up here, the more time it gave them to show up. “I’m from Threadneedle. I went to elementary school... Ah, third grade? No, I’m third grade this year,” Dalisay felt herself trembling. Warmth, on her cheeks- Oh, great she was crying. “My parents had me learn how to play violin and piano, and I also do cup-stacking- And- and-” Dalisay realized she was out of breath. Was she breathing, even? Her nose was running all over her face, and- No, no time to be weak, no time for lollygagging. Any time wasted was just another chance for her powers to ruin everything. “Hm. Uh...” She whimpered, “Can I skip my demonstration?” She felt a warm, soft hand on her shoulder. Miss Thyra leaned in close, smelling of fresh linen and lilac blossoms. “Yes, yes you can,” The superintendent lowered her glasses, meeting Dalisay’s gaze. She produced a kleenex from her pocket, and offered it to the girl, “I understand.” The girl sniffled, dabbing at her face. As an afterthought, she reached for the microphone. “I didn’t introduce myself. My name is-” “DALLAS!” Almudena barked out from her seat, cupping her hands around her mouth for additional volume (as if she needed it). Dalisay dropped the microphone, which hit the floor with an echoing boom. She felt the tears welling up again, her heart pounding, her breath getting short and choppy. Balling her little fists so hard that her knuckles went white, clenching her eyes shut, she stamped her foot and screamed. ”My name is DALISAY!” A gigantic leathery fist slammed into Almudena’s face. Tangled up in her desk, she fell sideways and skidded across the floor, barely missing plowing into Flint’s seat.The schoolgirl wrenched herself out from under the furniture and shoulder-rolled to her feet, the motion revealing that she’d thoughtfully worn a pair of modest black shorts under her dress. She came up grinning, deep crimson blood running from her forehead and across one of her eyes. It dripped onto her blouse, seeping into the fabric. Almudena wiped the gore out of her eye, and regarded the being that had assailed her. It was hunched over like a gorilla, muscles straining under a thick, matted coat of cerulean feathers. Instead of normal jaws, it had a huge, sturdy looking, slate coloured beak, slowly working open and shut with muffled clacks. For paws, it had huge, birdlike talons, covered in scaly yellow hide, with jagged, dirty claws. Its eyes were utterly inhuman, completely brick-red except for the pupils. It swayed back and forth, pitching forward on its unnaturally long arms as if getting ready to charge. “No no no no no no no...” Dalisay whimpered, “I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean-” “Me gusta tu amigos, Dallas!” Almudena laughed wildly. She reached up and undid her tie, throwing it aside, “Por supuesto, it’s my turn to say ‘hola’ now.” The beast pounced towards Almudena with a warbling cry, bounding high into the air. As it came down, Almudena grabbed her desk with her right hand, and swung it overhead in a huge arc. It slammed into the creature with a ringing impact, jagged shards of the desktop clattering to the floor. The simian fiend tumbled to the side, rolled once and then landed on all fours. Almudena dropped the shattered steel frame to the floor, and without turning, drove her left fist into the remnants. Her now familiar battering ram of force exploded into being, blasting the framework like it had been fired out of a cannon. The avian creature snagged the jagged wreck out of the air with one gnarled paw, and flung it back at the pugilist. “No mames!” Almudena slapped the projectile aside in another transparent burst, embedding it in the concrete wall. “Te crees muy muy, oy?” Almudena slammed her fists together, her clothes rippling in the wind from the impact. She began striding towards the beast, her steps measured and shoulders squared, like she was preparing to discipline it. “OI! Dallas!” She barked, “If I break this loro of yours, it won’t break you, will it?” Dalisay peered out from behind the podium, where she’d been cowering. Her gaze was hard, resolute. “It won’t!” She stood up, her legs trembling, using the podium to keep her balance. “But even if it did, I’d tell you to do it!” “Muy bueno,” Almudena beamed. The ape rose up on its hind legs, and pitched forwards, aiming a gigantic slap at the student. She responded with a twitch of her wrist, a bloom of vitreous impact not only blocking the swing, but crumpling its thick fingers like they’d been made of paper. She stepped in, taking hold of one of its shattered digits, and wrenching it. “Now, I’m not sure if you were listening, amigo, when I said this earlier...” Almudena drew back her right arm, her well defined muscles tensing. She clenched her fist. Using her grip on its broken hand, she reeled the ape in and launched a gigantic punch, all in one well-practiced motion. A wave of kinetic force slammed into its torso, first flattening the feathers, and then pushing into its chest. The beast gave one panicked squawk as it bulged outwards like a balloon, and then exploded into a cloud of nothing but greasy blue feathers. “I’m a very firm believer in proper punishment.” Almudena waved one of her hands, parting the cloud of feathers so that she could walk through. Dusting herself off, she grabbed a spare desk, and dragged it back to where she’d been sitting. She plunked herself down next to Deandre again, caked in blood, cement chips, and a considerable amount of indigo plumage. “And... Ah,” Dalisay’s lip quavered. “That is my power.” From the center of the room, she heard a single figure clapping loudly- Almudena, applauding getting mauled by what was possibly the most dangerous manifestation her powers had ever taken. “Venga! That was a hell of a show, wasn’t it?” OOC: Feel free to decide whether your cast freaks out, or joins the applause... Hard to say how this’ll all go.
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Post by AngelicTragedy on Mar 8, 2016 22:27:00 GMT -5
Nessa jumped from her seat, smashing her hands together, and cheered nearly as loudly as Almudena at Dalisay's accidental display of power. Though she would never admit that the beast that the young girl scared her so badly she had nearly ran from the gym, Nessa cheered all the louder to try to show Dalisay that she shouldn't be afraid of her powers as she seemed to be. Nessa knew all to well what it felt like to fear ones own natural ability. She'd been taught to be afraid of what she could do but refused to let that hold her back. Nessa was hard headed in the extreme and didn't much care who knew it. "Bloody brilliant, love!" Nessa slid away from her desk and past Almudena into the debris field left by the ape-bird. She bent down and gathered a few handfuls of feathers before taking a seat on Almudena's new desk. A few quick, practiced movements brought the mass of feathers into a wreath of sorts, much like a crown, which she placed around her new Hispanic friends temples. Nessa grabbed Almudena's wrist and pulled her hand upwards and pointed at the bloody girl like the referee in a boxing match. "All hail our grand hero! All hail Alma, the Beast Slayer!" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Ty noticed things. He'd always noticed things. Though he wouldn't claim himself to be the most observant person in the world it was very hard not to pick up on some major tone changes in the room. The building nearly fell, ice pillars were created and destroyed, sand floated, weights were lifted, and all of it was giving Ty a tension headache. He knew what he could do, he knew his feelings about his powers, but how casually these other people tossed their power around left Ty feeling uneasy. Ty's energy was running low, both from his demonstration and from being around people for such a long period of time. Ty, in true introvert style, needed time away from the general public to allow his batteries to recharge. He was just about to step out of the gym for a breath of fresh air when a massive bird-gorilla hybrid exploded into the nearby group of students with a sickening punch to the face of the boxing queen. Ty ducked behind a desk and very ungracefully failed at covering his head with a chair. As the rumbled between the beat-em-up beauty and the beast wrapped up and the thunderous applause of Alma and Nessa rang through the high ceilings above, Ty came out of his furniture fort and tried to stand it back up properly without being noticed. He failed. Ty dropping the desk on his foot and cursed loudly before regaining his seat. He averted his eyes away from what he knew would be a stern glare from the staff and wished that he was anywhere but there. Why is it so hard to find TY's voice again?
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Post by Cendra on Mar 11, 2016 10:58:01 GMT -5
Harue watched as Ben compared his strength with one of the other school staff. Nothing was hurtling towards her for this demonstration, so that was a plus. Strength struck her as one of the more practical powers someone could have. There were lots of things you could choose to do in life with super strength. Normal jobs even. Fire blood on the other hand, not so much. She certainly wouldn't be working in a hospital, that was for sure.
“Sooo...” Jesse's voice came from Harue's left, “you want some popcorn? I brought salt and everything!” The girl smiled hopefully at Harue. The white haired girl turned to see a modest pile of white puffs gathered on her peer's desk. A smile broke out on her face. What a day it was.
“Why not?” Jesse's face lit up at the acceptance of her peace offering and Harue couldn't help a quiet laugh as she reached over for a few kernels. Maybe she was just going into shock from the events of today, but she found herself becoming almost resigned with her new situation and surroundings. Lots to call home about for sure.
~*~*~*~*~
“Well that's somethin' you don't see every day.” Eira wasn't quite sure how to feel about the odd creature Dalisay accidentally released into the room. “ So, we should probably stay clear of tantrums from her then...” Aodhan's mind went to work, not for the first time that day.
“Maybe... or maybe it's all about timing.” His sister raised a brow at his comment.
“Riiight... You know, you're scary with that look sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” Aodhans face was a picture of feigned surprise.
“Well, all the other times we're usually plotting together, so it kind of cancels out.” Eira played along.
“True -” A gust of feathers blew in though the slit between the desks at the force of Almudena's attack. The boy dissolved into a coughing fit, effectively cutting off their banter. Eira pat him firmly on the back.
“Geez, what now? Do we need to get you an inhaler?”
“Feather.” he wheezed “Throat.” after a few more minutes of struggle and a legitimately concerned sister, the saliva covered feather was extracted.
“I'm glad you're alive, bro... but that's really gross.” Eira wrinkled her nose.
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