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Post by Beelzebibble on Mar 11, 2016 11:08:56 GMT -5
FARMGIRL? DRESS + BOOTS
had become
FARMGIRL? WHT, BLONDE, DRESS + BOOTS EMMA ??? McCROWLY <- RAY JO BMEADOW - YEAH P/MUCH THE TYPE "CORN" POPCORN. ALCOHOL. FIRE JUGGLE "CORN".
And, on an earlier page,
WHT HAIR W/RED - ASN GIRL
had been extended to
WHT HAIR W/RED - ASN GIRL HARUE [ ] - SO, JAPAN? Y BLOOD SETS ON FIRE??? NO DEMO. T.Y. HARUE. GET LAST NAME.
On an earlier page still,
BLK BOY. ATH-IC BUILD
had been amended as
BLK BOY. ATH-IC BUILD JAMAL KADIR QADIR? <- JAY "PETTY THIEF"? "PETTY THIEF". DUMBBELL FROM HAX BY CARLOS HUE? SUPER STRENGTH – N/SURPRISE
And on the page before that, the first one he'd begun since entering the auditorium,
YOUNGER KID – PIGTAILS – HIDE U/DESK
under which he had in the meantime added
YOUNGER KID – PIGTAILS – HIDE U/DESK DALISAY SALAZAR "DO YOU HATE YOUR POWERS TOO" POWER DESTRUCTIVE? SHE'S UNHAPPY
now lay ready with a few blank lines remaining underneath to fill out. And even though, for all he knew, this might be the one that would finally bring the auditorium crashing into dust, Deandre couldn't pretend not to be curious.
But he had to set the pen down at the sight of the black-haired girl trembling in tears onstage: His heart went out to her. When, a moment later, she asked in a quivering voice to skip her demonstration, some sense of obligation drove Deandre to cap the pen and close the book, storing both in the front pocket of his hoodie. Only the white-haired girl, Harue Something, had managed the feat of yielding her demonstration gracefully and without losing face, leaving Deandre to wish he had that kind of composure, and (he was sure) leaving Dalisay to wish the same. At least the petite, cross-footed Dalisay could easily claim sympathy from the rest of the students – except, it seemed, for Almudena, who let out a disappointed huff when the younger girl asked to skip her presentation, and who didn't even let her get through her introduction:
"My name is—"
"DALLAS!"
When Almudena grinned in his direction, Deandre forced a chuckle, a token effort to show her he was on her wavelength, despite inwardly feeling that the last thing it looked like Dalisay wanted right now was to have her introduction dictated by someone else. Her reaction would prove him right: Dropping the microphone, red-faced, she shouted "My name is Dalisay!"
And then a beast from a Guillermo del Toro nightmare fell out of thin air and lunged directly at the Catholic schoolgirl, jolting the neighboring Deandre so hard he fell backward, desk and all, and nearly cracked his head on the floor.
When he pulled himself together, blinking through flashing stars, it was to see Almudena standing bloodied and bold opposite her attacker, a monster with the hulking physique of an ape but the claws and beak of a bird of prey, complete with its coat of bright blue feathers. Not to be caught off-guard twice, the schoolgirl intercepted its next lunge by splintering her desk over its head, then followed up with a punch that sent the desk's metal frame rocketing toward the creature. But with reflexes that suggested a falcon more than an ape to Deandre, the beast caught the frame and hurled it straight back at Almudena. In a limber, easy motion, the girl deflected the missile and pounded one fist over the other with a defiant smile. Even Deandre couldn't help but smile a little at the sight; well, maybe he was on her wavelength. There was a helplessly infectious way about her – someone truly living every moment in the present, in a way he could never, as much as he'd like.
In this short moment of calm, he looked first to the podium, where Dalisay was crouched for safety, and then at the bristling creature. No question it was summoned here by Dalisay, but going off her fearful gaze now, and her despairing way of telling him about the breakage she'd caused back home, he doubted whether she'd called the creature here on purpose. Maybe an emotional response to Almudena's teasing?
Of course the temptation, faced with those red eyes that never seemed to blink, was to use his power on this alien monster while he had a chance.
He knew it was a bad idea – using his power on nonhuman targets was a fraught business. He'd given it up long ago, after the experiments of his late single-digits and preteen years. Dogs and cats weren't horrible: There would be something he could almost certainly understand, a heightened sound or scent, or a recognizable image, though distorted and filtered, perhaps all done up in the wrong colors. A meadow of pale yellow grass and grey shrubs, or a fireplace with a crackling dark brown flame. But the day he'd been young and foolish enough to use the power on a bumblebee, he got nothing better to show for his troubles than a headache and the implacable sense of carrying his body south.
Too, there was the worst fear of all, the fear of losing one of his own memories forever to a brain that could never repeat it, could never even understand it...
Deandre had no time to make a decision. Almudena was striding forward, calling to Dalisay, and the younger girl's encouraging response signalled an end to the fight. The worst thing the beast could have done was try to take the boxer on at close quarters – after breaking the digits on one paw, she detonated the ape-bird with one summary punch, leaving a cloud of feathers where it had been stooped beneath her grip. Without missing a beat, as if she had just done the most natural thing in the world, Almudena seized a spare desk and started back toward the cluster where she'd been sitting before. Deandre had enough time to right his own desk, pick something else up off the floor, and take his seat again before Almudena swung the new desk around and landed heavily next to him.
"And, ah – that is my power."
Since Dalisay didn't seem at all affected by the death of the ape-bird, Deandre guessed this must not be the only one, or that it regenerated with every summon. He was glad to see her seemingly more cheered by the incident than anything else, but found dazedly, not for the first time today, that he couldn't tell whether or not to clap. Among the first few students who did were the Scottish girl Nessa, and Almudena herself, who launched into vigorous applause and cheering, face red and hair tousled, totally unrestrained by concern for her disheveled appearance. Deandre swallowed.
"Here's..."
The necktie dangled from his outstretched hand.
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Post by ch00beh on Mar 12, 2016 20:23:00 GMT -5
Franky yelped in surprise and jumped out of his seat, his desk clattering to the ground. Everything else stayed still.
Frozen in a moment and spitting distance away was an ape shaped demon-bird. Its clawed--taloned?--fist was planted firmly in Almudena's face, and all around there were wide, surprised eyes and partially agape mouths. On stage, Dalisay had her face buried in her hands.
"This guy is a scamp?" Franky said aloud, looking at the frightened filipina girl. She obviously did not respond. "Ridiculous. But... it could be useful to have a nuke around during a knife fight."
Franky took a couple deep breaths to steady himself, then picked up his chair and put it back where it was. He didn't sit down immediately, though, and instead walked up to the the demon to take a good look at it. He walked around the demon and Almudena, keeping about a step or two of distance between him and them--he didn't want to risk any chance of touching them and unfreezing them. That thing was big and it was really laying into Almudena. The girl, though... something in her eyes were lit up, and not in the angry kind of way. The excited kind of way. Weird. Franky stepped away and made his way back to his seat.
"Let's see how this plays out, then."
The world snapped back into motion and Almudena flew through the air. The two exchanged frenzied blow after blow. It was captivating, but Franky also couldn't help but notice that the teachers hadn't moved an inch to step in. The excited look in Almudena's eyes started to make sense, but the passive staff did not. Weirder and weirder.
Franky snapped out of his thoughts with the sounds of snapping bone followed by a wet explosion. He was staring. Okay. She's the nuke you bring to a knife fight. Not the scamps.
Almudena haphazardly banged another desk down and sat down, and again time froze. Franky got out of his seat and made his way toward the brawler, pushing a nearby desk right behind her. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the seat down, sat down, and unfroze time. He was holding the handkerchief by Almudena's shoulder as if in offering. "That was awesome."
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 13, 2016 13:31:34 GMT -5
“Gracias, gracias,” Almudena shook her fist triumphantly as Nessa raised her arm in the air, “Por supuesto, está todo en un día de trabajo para mi.”
It was then that she noticed Deandre holding her tie. Gently pushing through the crowd, she circled around her desk, and ended up face to face with him. She took hold of her tie, her fingers brushing against his.
“Muchas gracias, Literato,” She bowed her head, and planted a light kiss on the back of his hand, her lips soft and warm against his skin. Almudena raised her gaze to meet his, her eyes sparkling, for just a moment before drawing away. A drop of blood from her forehead dripped onto his wrist as she stood back up.
Almudena gave an off-kilter smile and an oddly girlish giggle. She spun on her heel, fumbling to sit back down at her desk. Slipping her tie on once more, she wordlessly accepted the kerchief from the younger boy. Acting like she was dabbing up blood, she covered the side of her face that was towards Deandre. Her ears were obviously blushing bright red, however.
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Post by AngelicTragedy on Mar 13, 2016 13:46:42 GMT -5
"Right then, Nessa Weir," Thyra called in an attempt to break the spell the scamp seems to have cast over the student body. "Watch this, hen. You should enjoy this," Nessa squeezed Alma's wrist before starting a swaying saunter towards the stage. Nessa's every move seemed to be utterly carefree as if she was always walking on air. The bells on her necklace sang a jaunty tune as her stiff soled boots clacked across the somewhat scuffed gym floor. Cobalt feathers were ground flat or blown aside with each sure step almost as if a path was opening up behind the Scottish girl. Nessa flashed a winning smile at everyone that she walked past that verged on almost too perfect. Nessa had the air about her that she was almost to perfect physically, as if she'd been carved from stone rather than born of flesh. As she neared the steps of the stage, Nessa met Dalisay and dropped down quickly to one knee and snatched the young girls hand up with her own satin gloved hand. "Love, you're bird monkey thing was really brilliant. If you need anything you can come to me, 'kay? You remind me of me a few years back," Nessa whispered, gently squeezing the girls hand, and gave her a brief hug. Though the gesture was sincere it was quite obvious that Nessa took great care not to allow the skin on her neck and face to touch Dalisay's own skin. Nessa released Dalisay and skipped up the steps towards the podium. She snatched the microphone from its mount and grinned at the staff assembled on stage in her most winning fashion. With a quick spin and a wave of curls Nessa had taken over the stage with such a commanding presence that it was hard to believe that she hadn't just been doing flips or juggling chainsaws. "Mental morning, aye? I'm Nessa and as I'm sure you can tell I'm from Scotland. I'm not sure what else I should say from here really. I like to sing, but I guess that's not why I'm here, aye?" Nessa cast a glance back over her shoulder at Thyra as if judging if she really wanted to continue. "Oh well, there's no real point in hiding it. When me mum signed me up for this place I was asked not to discuss my powers with anyone but you'll all find out soon enough anyway, so how about we have a bit of a show. "Nessa, you really don't have to do that," Thyra began as she took to her feet. "It's alright, I want to." "I'm not so sure that's the best decision," an ever slight edge creeped into Thrya's voice. It didn't sound like she was angry but more concerned. "Ya see, my powers came with a few odd side effects," Nessa began down the steps from the stage and back along the path between the feathers she'd created. "I like to say that my power is to bring out the best in people. My powers seem to have left me unable to be physically damaged. I've never had a scar or pimple, I've never had a bruise, my voice never cracked. I thought that was as far as it went, but then I started going through puberty and I kissed a boy for the first time. He turned into a granite statue." Nessa paused the story and looked over the crowd. She hadn't changed tone from her joyful sing-song speech pattern as she spoke about a boy turning to stone. She didn't sound happy per say but she didn't exactly sound sad about the whole situation. Nessa took a moment to look for disgust on the faces of her classmates before continuing. "Turns out that the boy that I kissed was a power too except that his powers hadn't surfaced. I had doctors and scientist poking and prodding me for weeks afterwards tryin' to figure out what had happened. The best that they could tell is that the hormone changes had changed my power. They told me mum and I that I'd developed the power to awaken dormant powers and empower existing powers. I also gain an understanin' of what their power is. Long story short, if I come into skin to skin contact with a power I raise them to the maximum limit of their powers whether they can physically handle it or not," a broad smile sweeped across Nessa's face as the room went utterly silent. "Now you know why I wear the gloves," Nessa had come to a stop next to Jesse and slipped one of the long black gloves off her hand. "How about a bit of a demo, aye? Relax love." Several things happened all at once. Nessa pressed her hand onto the back of Jesse's, a soft white radiance shone between their skin. Marius sprang from his seat, yelling out a desperate warning, and began to sprint towards the steps but didn't get far. The minds of everyone in the room burst into a cacophony of color and images. Everyone seemed to be experiencing the same images, flashes of people and places that seemed almost familiar, before being joined by sound. Laughter, talking, songs, and ambiance mentally smashed through the consciousness of the assembled powers. Faintly in the room a scream rang out but it was masked almost entirely by the chaotic flashes and booming noise. After what seemed like an eternity the sensations began to calm and an image of a hellscape unfolded in the whole schools mind. A red sky hung heavy over charred grass and blackened stone. Fires burned at random among the ruins of a building sending pillars of caustic smoke pouring into the thick atmosphere. The image began to move as if viewed by some bird of prey over the obliterated landscape. The vision came to focus on an open plane ringed in black flame. In the center stood a throne made from piled skulls that sat empty. Behind the throne rose pillars of black stone to which the lifeless bodies of all the Terminer staff were chained. Below the hanging corpses were long chains connected to black iron collars that ringed the necks of the students of the academy. A manic laughter cracked out from behind the black flames and a pair of glowing orange eyes shone through the darkness. The mental image began to darken but the laughter rang clear for a few long moments that felt like an eternity. The vision and sound faded only to be replaced by the scream that started before. Nessa's vocal cords were raw form the anguish of her cry but she couldn't seem to make it stop. Her eyes were locked on Jesse, a look of pure grief and regret played against her perfect features, as she pulled her hand away from Jesse and covered her mouth to stop her wail. A moment of silence fell and Nessa quickly strode back up towards the stage where Marius stood halfway to the stairs with a look of utter confusion on his face. Nessa sheepishly grinned at him before placing the microphone back in it's holder and replacing her glove. She cleared her throat as best as she could before smiling once again. "Hey, on the bright side, we as least know that is a possible future. Doesn't mean that it will happen," Nessa laughed slightly and turned towards Thyra. The two locked eyes and Nessa mouthed an apology before striding back to her seat. I know that I've given out a lot of new Nessa info, but also a lot of new questions have been raised. All answers will come in the one on one meetings. [/spoilers]
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Mar 13, 2016 17:36:33 GMT -5
Other than the sudden appearance of a hulking gorilla-bird and the ensuing brawl the beast had with Almudena, most of the power demos since she and Flint had returned to the auditorium had been pretty much what Talia had expected. No one really seemed to notice her return, other than maybe Silumas. He never looked directly at her, but she could swear that she felt his eyes burning into her soul at the moment she walked back through the doors earlier. Some of the other students might have given her a nervous glance or two, but she otherwise felt fairly invisible, which she was ok with. She had always hated being the center of attention.
Talia hadn’t really been listening to the speech given by the girl named Nessa Weir, that is until she mentioned kissing a boy who then turned into a granite statue. At that a look of puzzlement covered her face as she looked to the stage. She kissed a boy and he turned to stone? What is she? The long lost cousin of Medusa? She thought to herself. Then her speech continued as she spoke of awakening dormant powers and even further empowering those that already existed ‘whether the person could handle it or not’. Talia’s eyes went wide as she watched Nessa walk amidst the student body. The demeanor in which she spoke of this furthered her terror as it almost seemed that this girl didn’t even care about the potential consequences of such a thing. For all Talia knew she might even take some twisted pleasure in it.
If she touched me…., Talia’s mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend the potential consequences. She already had little to no control of her powers and yet this girl, through mere touch, could send her already dangerous ability spiraling out of control to possibly apocalyptic proportions.
Gripped by terror Talia slipped out of her desk and began to back away from where Nessa had come to rest in front of Jesse. As the girl touched Jesse there were suddenly images moving rapidly through her mind, some familiar, some even like memories, but different, slightly altered. And then destruction, scorched earth, death, evil, fire. Was it her? Would she cause this? No, it was something else, something darker, the faculty chained, choking smoke, she could feel the metal collar around her neck, choking her. It was all too vivid. There was a piercing scream, laughter as the world burned. Talia huddled into a ball on the floor, holding her ears, her eyes closed tight.
Finally it stopped, everything was normal again, but far from ok. Everyone seemed stunned, confused and within seconds she could see some descending into sheer terror, even more so than after her demo. Why had the girl done this? Had she meant to? Was it just for shits and giggles?
All Talia knew for sure was that this girl, Nessa Weir had just shown herself to be the most dangerous thing here for her. If the two of them ever came into contact, Talia was convinced that her powers would destroy everything, maybe the entire island. Watching the girl saunter back to the stage Talia decided that she would need to be avoided like the plague. If she ever developed some twisted desire to destroy the school and everyone in it, she would have to look no farther than Talia herself.
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Post by Cendra on Mar 18, 2016 14:50:14 GMT -5
Jesse grinned and did her best not to bounce in her seat as Nessa came to a stop in front of her. She'd never before had the chance to work with the redhead in any of the other dimensions she'd visited. The prospect of having the opportunity now, was rather exciting to her. She wasn't quite sure what to expect as Nessa's soft hand descended on the back of her own. The warm tingle of their powers coming into contact was quite pleasant, but as she turned to look at the staff and teachers seated in front of her, the world seemed to melt into a constant state of motion. Left, right, up, down, spiraling, so many colors and shapes.
A number of thoughts flew through the English girl's mind as she blinked and shook her head, trying to get a handle on the intense increase of her powers. Firstly, it was a very good thing she didn't get motion sick. Secondly, It was also a good thing that humans generally only had ten percent of their brain in use at one time. If she hadn't had the rest “open for expansion”, she was sure her head would be exploding at that moment. In fact, with an infinite amount of dimensions to view and absorb, she decided she had better get things under control or soon that was exactly what would happen.
Loud, quiet, cold, hot, bright, grey, dark, it didn't matter where she stopped, as long as it stopped. Jesse concentrated with all she had on one point and followed it down the moving fractals of reality.
At first, it wasn't all that bad as the dimension came into focus. Wind through her feathers, warm air...Wait. She had feathers? Her mind sharpened yet again. She was IN the air!? Jesse took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Today was just full of new experiences. She knew that logically, somewhere, there was a dimension where she was a bird, but she had never explored quite that far down the spirals. Tuning in more closely to her bird-self, she realized the feelings of dread coming from it's mind.
It was a struggle, but finally her vision cleared and the landscape came into view. Mendacious laughter, death, fire and the sickening smell of everything burning around her hit her senses. She might not get motion sickness, but scenes like this did make her sick. Jesse tried to calm her own heart, but failed as a sharp scream pierced through the air and into her ear. Startled, but realizing the sound came from where her body was, not her mind, she latched onto the sensation of the sound. Jesse snapped herself back into the room just before Nessa pulled her hand away.
Jesse slumped against her desk as she concentrated on holding in what ever breakfast she'd eaten that morning. When Miss Belwyn came back she was definitely going to excuse herself into her care. Whatever Nessa was saying up front didn't really make sense in the light brunette's mind yet, but as Nessa walked back to her seat, Jesse tugged on her arm sleeve.
“Hey, so, being a bird was awesome, but maybe in a happier place next time?” she gave a queasy, but good-natured smile.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 22, 2016 16:05:04 GMT -5
“Alma? Almudena?” A hesitant voice called the girl's name. She turned in her seat, and found her facing Dalisay, the younger girl standing pigeon-toed, her shoulders hunched defensively and hands jammed into the pockets of her overalls.
“Si?” Almudena sprawled backwards across her desk, bracing on her elbows.
“I- I...” Dalisay stammered. Almudena raised an eyebrow, and the younger girl winced as if the teen had raised her fist.
“I’m sorry,” The child managed to blurt out. She ducked her head and took a step back.
Almudena kicked up to her feet. She began walking towards Dalisay, wordlessly.
“I’msorry, I’msorry, I’m-” Dalisay was cut off by Almudena scooping her up in a gigantic bear hug.
“It’s okay, hermanita,” Almudena swayed back and forth, Dalisay’s shoes dangling well above the gym floor, “What are sisters for, after all?”
Dalisay looked up, incredulous.
“You’re not my sister...”
Almudena set her down gently.
“Family is more than blood, niña.” Almudena put her hand on Dalisay’s head, steadying the still-trembling child, “And hey, when la hermana mayor es una china en tu zapato, some times you gotta bust her face to get her attention.”
She turned away, and walked back to her seat.
“Isn’t that right, Dallas...ay,” Alma grinned mischievously.
It was then that la Pelirrojo lit the whole gym up with visions of carnage, and for the first time today, Almudena was completely taken aback. She sat up straight in her seat, her face going pale. The pugilist clenched a fist so tight that her knuckles popped, little sparks of transparent force bursting wildly from her hands and hitting her desk like thrown stones. Taking a ragged breath, she loosened her clenched grip, and touched her right hand to her forehead, then her chest, and then each of her shoulders.
“En el nombre del Padre, y del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo...” She clenched her jaw, and gulped, “Amen.”
Almudena raised her gaze fiercely as the vision faded. Though she’d been shaken, she still managed to catch the words ‘possible future’.
“El Literato,” She spoke, her voice low and ominous, “I need you to write something down for me.”
Her eyes locked straight ahead, she clenched her fists again.
“For the record, as long as I’m here, that future will never come.”
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Post by Beelzebibble on Mar 25, 2016 16:47:18 GMT -5
It was a kindness that Almudena turned away immediately after, or she would have seen him, frozen, as usual, his hand still lingering slightly in the air. In another moment, he would pivot out of the present and tuck himself back into his chair. He was biting his lip very hard. When he was sure that she wouldn't see - she was wiping her face with a handkerchief someone had given her - he relaxed on his lip and instantly broke into a smile. He looked down, as much to hide it beneath the collar of the hoodie as anything else. The droplet of blood he dabbed away with the edge of his sleeve, but then he turned another step away in his seat and gently closed the pages of the notebook over his palm. He was almost ready to risk another glance at the girl sitting some ways beside him, but Nessa's story of the boy who turned to stone demanded the room's attention. Deandre's smile dropped away. The Scot was so lighthearted in the telling that some soft sure voice in his head insisted she must be joking. But he had no more than a minute to squeeze in some too-scattered notes on this strange confession before Nessa rolled off a glove and took ahold of the hand of the girl who predicted futures, Jesse Chase, and the auditorium fell apart into a machine-gun surge of images and sounds. If Deandre hadn't been able to feel himself still seated, feet on the floor and pen in one hand, when the volley stopped, then he would've been sure Nessa had teleported them. The vision of horror she presented was like nothing in Deandre's memory. It was only when the clouds of red smoke stirred enough to reveal the throne of skulls and the grisly display beyond that he realized the setting of this apocalypse was nothing less than the ruined campus of Terminer itself - for wasn't that Miss Russell hanging there, and Miss Schwartzwald, and the man with the serpent emblem who'd managed to elect himself CANDIDATE NUMBER TWO? Only where was CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE? Deandre forced himself to search the display for the body of the bald man, only to lose sight of the pillars behind the throng of students, all chained at the neck, Ty and Mica and Talia and Carlos Hue and - was that - ? The scene burned itself out of his sight. He was in the auditorium once again. Nessa was just finishing up a good scream. He was clutching the pen so hard his knuckles had paled. Forgetting any instinct of shy avoidance, he shot an anxious look aside at the Catholic schoolgirl, who was dashing off a quick prayer. While Nessa explained, in a voice betraying more than ever her hollow struggle to stay cheerful, that this was only a possible future and not to be taken as an ironclad prediction, Almudena met his gaze. The fierce look in her eyes he could already claim to know well, but so far he'd only seen it coupled with a cheeky smile, not the grimace that had come over her face now. Something in his heart tightened. Even in distress, she was no less... oh, why hide it? She was no less beautiful than ever, but he didn't like to see this expression all the same. Turning her face back to the stage, she muttered: "El Literato, I need you to write something down for me. For the record, as long as I'm here, that future will never come." And he murmured: "I won't let it." But it was another future as much as that one that he meant, or perhaps more, since, in brutal honesty, Deandre would be flattering himself to think that there was anything he could do to prevent that holocaust. It was a different scenario he intended never to see come about, and that was to let Nessa use her power on him. What would have happened if she'd lighted at his desk instead? What did the logical result of dialing his abilities out of proportion look like? Deandre could all too easily imagine the worst of it: losing control and unleashing his power again and again, thousands of times in a second, on everyone in the room, until all their memories were mixed together through him and redistributed at random, thought by thought. They would be a crowd of patchwork scarecrows, all stuffed with whatever scraps and rags could be swept up off the floor, with not one identity left recognizable and whole. At a stroke, the academy would be converted into an insane asylum. He couldn't help but shrink back as Nessa returned to her seat not far from him and Almudena. Though he dutifully recorded the other girl's words, he hesitated in writing further. There were obvious reasons to record the vision Nessa and Jesse had presented, not least of them the need to remind himself in the strongest terms possible that Nessa was not to touch him on any account, but on the other hand, Deandre was facing a rare thing: a memory that he would just as happily forget. Apparently the proper way to write Deandre is when you're sick and you keep going for these weird not-totally-conventional turns of phrase.
Also, I'm trying to stay faithful to my first interpretation of Nessa's future, which is that it's what Silumas would have done with the school if left to his own devices - hence why I had Deandre pointedly fail to notice Silumas' body hanging behind the throne. But DL did say "all the Terminer staff", so I made sure Deandre didn't get a complete look at the scene, and if Silumas was hanging there too then there shouldn't be a contradiction.
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Post by ch00beh on Mar 25, 2016 21:31:36 GMT -5
Franky wanted it to stop, but when he closed his eyes and wished the world to freeze, the visions of hell kept moving while the students in Terminer Academy sat like wax statues, faces contorted and wide eyed. Except for Jesse. She was frozen like the rest, but breathing hard at the same time, like two bodies overlapping one another. The boy screamed and everyone around him started to shake again. Jesse was now a single being again, and shortly after that, the hellscape disappeared.
Natural sunlight took the place of the raging inferno, but Franky still felt like his heart was about to leap from his chest. He stole a glance at Nessa. She could force a Power to unleash things no one could control. Franky remembered reading that in her student file, but at the time, he just thought that was super lame, but now? What would have happened if she had decided to touch Franky? The boy had no idea how his powers even worked, let alone what could possibly happen if they were pushed to maximum...
As possibilities flitted through his imagination, Franky's beating heart was replaced with a smile.
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Post by Cendra on Mar 27, 2016 17:37:51 GMT -5
“Eira and Aodhan,” Thyra paused, slight confusion appearing on her face when she didn't immediately see the twins in their seats as she expected.
Two heads of curly red hair bounced up from under the desk, blanket fort. Thyra raised an eyebrow at them as they crawled out hand in hand.
Nessa's demonstration had shaken them, but seeing the auditorium whole and everyone well again quelled their apprehension as they stepped forward. As long as they were both together, they could get through what ever challenge they faced.
“You wanted to demonstrate together correct?”
“Yes ma'am!” They replied simultaneously. Eira dusted off whatever might have been on the floor from her dark blue jeans. It seemed to be mostly crumbs from a variety of foods. Aodhan nudged his sister.
“Hey, grab the bag.” he whispered.
“Oh. Right!” Ducking her head back into the fort, she located their new, brown sack bag, grabbed it and reappeared again.
“Got it!” She said triumphantly and straightened Harue's lent hat onto her head again.
“Nice. Let's leg it!” The twins ran up to the stage, Aodhan taking the lead with his classic grin and enthusiasm.
“Well, hello schoolmates! I'm Aodhan.”
“I'm Eira.” she spoke clearly with a cheerful smile, but with less hyper enthusiasm than her brother. Aodhan continued as Eira dug through their bag to find their demonstration materials.
“We're twins if you hadn't guessed. We're thirteen years old, from Ireland, nowhere specific. She's cool,” he pointed his thumb at his sister, then to himself, wiggling his eyebrows, “I'm hot.” Eira snorted and rolled her eyes, but couldn't help a smile. She pulled out the bubbles and ziploc bag of cents they needed. Aodhan continued like he hadn't heard her wordless comment.
“Alone, we're awesome, but together, we can do some pretty amazin' stuff.” Aodhan caught the bag of coins that Eira threw to him.
“We're all set.” she announced.
“Well, I guess it's our turn to show off then!” he said to to his twin, though it was clearly meant to be heard by everyone. The girl smirked and nodded at him.
After dipping it into the soapy mixture the blue bottle held, Eira blew at the bubble wand in her hand. Just as all expected, bubbles flew into the air, but these bubbles were different. As Eira blew, something like smoke left her mouth and was locked into the soapy sphere, making it look like a cloud was caught inside. Once she was satisfied with how many she had created, Eira set the bottle down and lifted her hands toward the bubbles in concentration. The trapped clouds seemed to grow thicker, but the balls still floated through the air.
“Okay, now!” she cued her brother. Aodhan emptied the bag of coins into his hand, his brow furrowed. The coin between his fingers began to heat up, but before it could burn, he launched it at one of the bubbles. The metal grew red, then yellow as it flew through the air before disappearing into a smokey orb without the expected pop. A low glow now illuminated the bubble like a mini clouded sun.
The twins shared an excited look. This being the first time they had ever tried this particular trick.
Once a coin was tossed into each bubble, Aodhan raised his hands in concentration as well. Sweat dripped down his flushed face, plastering a few curls to his forehead as he picture the shape he had in mind. The bubbles continued to glow and shimmer like little starts in a miniature sky. After a minute or two, the redhead's face relaxed.
“That should do it. Your turn sis.” He said a little breathlessly as he wiped his forehead on his blue shirt sleeve.
Eira herself, was looking pale. A little blue in the lips in-fact. Slowly, all of the glowing bubbles moved to hover above each student and teacher's desk. A thin layer of frost began to form and spread across Eira's skin, making the girl shiver as she let the globes hover about a foot from each desk. The redhead let everyone study them for a few moments, but it was getting too cold. Suddenly each bubble went dark, forming into a crystal orb as Eira clenched her hands into fists. The ice globes fell from the air, shattering onto the desks with a puff of cold mist that had been trapped inside. A small choir of clinks was heard echoing through the room as shiny bits of shaped metal hit the wooden surfaces.
The shape was clearly of Celtic design. Flecks of aluminum and zinc gave the copper a swirling quality as the metal curved to resembled four cloven hooves woven together, the points angled outward. Eira reached toward her brother with a cold shaking hand, steam rose into the air as he held it in his own. Within seconds his flushed cheeks returned to normal and her pale ones gained back their color.
“Hope you like it! These Dara knots are our gift to you. They say it's like the roots of an oak tree and something about leadership, wisdom, destiny or some-such. Now we can all remember our first day and keep them for luck in our first year.” with a wink and a grin, Aodhan hopped off the stage, sister agreeably in tow.
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Post by Yoshimitsu on Apr 9, 2016 18:30:40 GMT -5
"Alright, that's enough of that."
Kilik twisted the ring on his middle finger as he rose from his seat, casual as ever and thrusting his hands into his pockets. Between the the scamp (he had not been briefed on that), Almudena's blockbuster fight with whatever that thing was (and none of the staff joined in? Thyra, really?) and the random vision of the future (at least my abs looked good), it was time to lighten the mood. He might not be flashy, but he was practical when he needed to be. Sparing a glance back at Silumas, who he was pretty sure had been glaring at him about fifteen minutes ago, he settled on the middle of the podium and turned to the students.
"My name is Kilik Ginnungap," he said clearly. Sure, he wasn't as good as keeping serious tones in his voice as some of his friends, but this wasn't the time for it. Better to keep himself lighthearted. He registered, out of the corner of his eye, Emily stepping off the stage and he nodded to no one in particular. "I'm the gym teacher. I'm around if any of you guys need to talk, though. Someone-" he glanced back at Thyra "-managed to coerce me into being one of your counselors."
He ignored the awkward silence. It wasn't surprising, really. Garth had nearly destroyed the entire building, Talia had fled the stage after nearly destroying it, Tallis had had a panic attack in response to another student... There was a lot of drama to digest. Most of these kids had probably never encountered another Power before, and this wasn't exactly turning into the best display in the world. Too many issues, too much impacting each of these kids that they'd brought with them and hadn't had a chance to work out yet. Once again, he was questioning Thyra's decisions, but kept his mouth shut on the matter. For now.
"The long and short of it?" Kilik continued, glancing around at the students. On the bleachers, the dark haired girl was now sat next to the smaller boy and he was holding her hand like it was a lifeline. The boy in blue and gold, Ben, you've read these files, get the names right, looked the calmest of anyone on the floor. Garth's skin still hadn't gone back to the colour it had when he'd first entered the room. Even so, he pressed on.
"If Flint can do it, I can do it too," he continued, gesturing vaguely. A simple hand movement that most would pass off as a quirk of his character. The air was warm, the sun filtering in and heating the room despite the technology in the structure. "I can manipulate the cold, though I'm fairly certain the source of my powers comes from a different place to Flint's."
He stopped gesturing with every other word, a habit he'd picked up long ago and never managed to shake, and held his palms parallel with the ground. The ice, slush, some of it water at this point. He could feel it, feel how the crystals had formed and the snowflakes were constructed, every single line and groove and edge and blade. He held on to that feeling as he lifted his left hand, wriggling his fingers for a better grip on the element in front of him. With a single wave, the entire scene changed.
All of the leftover ice from Flint's demonstration suddenly surged into the air, and Kilik made circular motions with his right hand, making the ice start spinning and flowing, snowflakes instead of frozen water and swirling in the air. This, he could do. A small blizzard, contained in the air above anyone present. This was easy.
Yuki-onna, lend me your strength
He twisted his wrist and the ice started whirling, no longer snow but small chunks, like diamonds in the way they glittered under the sun. A maelstrom of ice shards flowed, and he twisted his other wrist to test what it would do. The ice flowed but the direction was different. Kilik grinned. He threw his arms wide, feeling the currents of the air, and then raised his hands up to the ceiling, the tips of his fingers gripping lightly. In one solid movement, he threw his hands down to his sides, fists clenched, and the ice above everyone scattered and formed and settled. Hanging in mid-air, rotating softly, the light casting shades of every colour against the walls.
"Evelyn, you might be able to manipulate light, but I bet we'd throw an incredible show together."
The refraction of the natural light through the crystalline shards of ice was casting a light on the ceiling. In other places too, probably, but it was the ceiling that mattered. Despite the pale colour, the lights were positioned perfectly to refact the colours and suddenly a nebula was being projected. Sure, it wasn't on a black background, but the way the purples and the oranges and the greens mixed, the harsh lines covered by each other, it was art.
Kilik gave everyone a solid minute of looking before he shrugged his shoulders and let the illusion fade.
"Enough of that."
With a sweep of his arm, all of the ice surge towards his open palm. It condensed into a solid block and, with his free hand, he ran his fingers over it. The ice chipped and fissured and crumbled within it's shape, and at that moment Emily burst back into the room, carrying a tray of bottles with vividly coloured contents.
"Snowcones!" She yelled, bouncing her way over.
"We'll be handing out snowcones to anyone who wants them," Kilik said quickly, cutting off Emily before she could get too excited. "We'll be at the edge of the stage. Tell us your favourite flavour and we can do it."
Ignoring the way Emily's face dropped, he walked over to the edge of the stage and dropped to sit there, his legs hanging over the edge and the sphere of ice shards still floating above his palm.
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Post by Silumas on Apr 10, 2016 20:48:49 GMT -5
What exactly do you hope to gain from this?
While he remained in the auditorium, his form splintered off and drifted a few of the Planes, becoming as two entirely different, separate, and combined forms. From the elemental planes, to the astral reaches, his consciousness and spirit drifted.
These are children. They are useless, they cannot control themselves emotionally, let alone their power and ability long enough to conquer a playground, let alone defeat the greatest enemy known to the entirety of Creation.
His inner monologue continued while students demonstrated their abilities one after another. While he continued to catalogue the activity for later use, memorizing who showed their ability to do what, nothing truly grabbing his attention again the way the other students had. The Magus had a lot on his mind and a young woman that could punch things or another that could summon things that could be punched bored him.
Kilik then took the podium and began speaking about teaching the students. Silumas laughed, or at least he really wanted to, when he spoke of being the student’s counselor. Images conjured to his mind of all the young pups running to him, mewling about their aches and woes, and the young gym teacher patting their heads, drying their tears, and telling them everything would be ok. It was truly pathetic. These students had to learn, and they had to learn fast. The only way to do that was to be pushed, and pushed hard, to excel and succeed. Evil was coming, evil greater than Silumas, and they had to be ready.
All of that dramatic, foreboding thought vanished with the speaking of a single word, “SNOW CONES!” the delightful miss Emily exclaimed as Kilik concluded his demonstration of his powers with ice and cold.
Despite his dark and scary exterior, his attempt to conquer this world not once, but twice, his most recent time spent on Earth had lead to him discovering a love of the flavored ice treat known amusingly as snowcones. Tiger’s Blood, Cherry, Grape, Watermelon, it did not really matter the flavor as he simply adored snowcones. The mysterious, robed faculty member rose from his seat and glided to Killik and Emily and all too unsubtly licked his lips in anticipation.
“I may have,” Silumas spoke slowly, never taking his eyes off the large block of ice, “underestimated your value…Coach.” No matter how he felt about the snowcones, he still had to stick to his guns regarding the man’s title.
“I would like something,” Silumas paused for a few moments, holding two fingers to his lips as he scanned the ice thinking quickly, in fact excitedly, as evidenced by his face, “fruity...I think you would say tropical.”
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Apr 11, 2016 14:13:45 GMT -5
Most of the demonstrations seemed to grind by after Flint had reentered the gymnasium. There were a few interesting abilities but boredom had still begun to set in. Slowly closing his eyes he drew in a deep breath and let the noises of the student around him fill his mind. Almudena’s voice was easily recognized among the crowd; after all it was considerably louder. Suddenly the atmosphere of the room began to change. Some girl who had been rambling on the stage walked over to another student and lightly touched her hand. Flint’s eyes snapped open, observing the scene below. He could feel his body trying to fight the panic that seemed to rise from his chest, slowly stretching its chilling fingers towards his limbs. The body of each student present dangled from a chain nearby. They seemed so lifelike. As suddenly as the nightmare had appeared it faded away and the gym’s sturdy walls surrounded them once again. Looking down Flint noticed that he was tightly clenching a dagger. Releasing his death grip on the knife it dropped to the floor, melting into a puddle. He had seen things like that before but this one felt different, like it could be avoided.
As the room settled down the two small twins emerged from there fort and scurried to the front of the room. They seemed giddy while they filled the room with bubbles. Each soapy sphere housed a tiny cloud that slowly grew to fill its home. The two red heads seemed to struggle finishing their trick. The bubbles glowed brightly before floating to each student. Reaching forward, Flint tried to catch one that floated near his face. The thin film popped under his soft touch and the Dara knot fell into his open palm. After the twins returned to their fort a teacher stood up and began playing with a ring before speaking to the students. During the speech Flint stood up and walked over to the twin’s fort, sitting down on the floor just outside the entrance. The use of his name drew his attention to the stage as the teacher began collecting the remaining ice in the room into a swirling cloud. Flint could feel each tiny particle flying through the air as they collided forming larger crystal structures. A thin stream of ice separated itself from the cloud, flowing toward his open palm. The shards flowed around his fingers forming talons as he absentmindedly watched the cloud above. It spread out and began to refract the light over the ceiling in blurred rippling waves. Rushing back to the teacher, the icy shards formed a block that he broke into tiny flakes.
“Snowcones!”
As soon as Emily bounced back into the room Flint was on his feet and motioning for the twins to come along. He quickly made his way across the gym slipping into line behind Silumas.
“Excuse me Professor Charles you’re holding up the line.”
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Post by Yoshimitsu on Apr 11, 2016 16:56:18 GMT -5
Literally threw this together in 10 minutes, sorry 'bout it Kilik raised an eyebrow as Silumas rose from his chair. The robes flowed around him and anyone else might have found it impressive, the way he managed to make it look like he had a massive fan aimed at him at all times. Not so much for Kilik. He'd seen much more impressive things. In fact, he was more concerned that the (questionable choice, Thyra) teacher seemed to be making a beeline for the ice block. Smash it, or smash it into Kiliks face, or what? Silumas was a harsh guy. It was hard to judge. And then it was hard to keep his face straight. Kilik wanted to burst out laughing, was nearly going to if he hadn't worried about the aftermath that could follow. This dude, this scary-as-fuck and deliberately intimidating dude, had a soft spot for sugary treats. Alright, Kilik could work with that. Ignoring the term 'coach' again, he let his grin show, wide and bright. "Something tropical? No problem," he said, flicking his wrist and sending the ice above their heads. He pulled one of the paper cones from Emily's tray with one hand, the other making circles in the air and a sphere of ice shards landed on the paper. He tossed the cone into the air and grabbed a bottle, a deep orange, and squeezed, squirting the liquid directly into the spiralling ice cone. Before it hit its peak, he grabbed the pale yellow bottle and took a second to aim, squeezing the bottle just the same but hitting the ice in its untouched surface. As it made its descent, he grabbed the bottle with the rich, deep red liquid and let the cone fall on the nozzle. A quick shot and he pulled the snow cone from the nozzle, offering it to Silumas. "Mango, pineapple and cherry flavour, enjoy," he said with a grin on his face.
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Post by SHADOWMASTER89 on Apr 13, 2016 18:42:05 GMT -5
Talia had returned to her seat once Nessa had returned to the safe distance she previously inhabited before her hellish demonstration. She occasionally glanced in the girl's direction despite the fact that her vibratory senses would easily alert her to any movement. Something about seeing that the girl was a safe distance away still gave her a reassuring feeling. She had more interest in the twin's demonstration than she'd had in most of the others. Throughout the course of the demonstration she noticed that the molecular vibrations of the girl became more and more sluggish and those of the boy became more and more hyperactive, in fact, by the end the girl visibly appeared as if she was slowly freezing to death and the boy was sweating and would likely have experienced heat stroke if the two of them had not taken each other's hand when they did. This confirmed what her senses had told her early on, that the two of them essentially regulated one another via touch.
As the first of the staff demonstrations began, Talia twirled the Dara knot that had landed on her desk from the twin's demonstration, her mind wandering as she found Kilik's ice demo less interesting than Flint's, at least until the light refraction display on the ceiling. She noticed that it looked exactly like a nebula. While her interests were primarily science related, that had mostly encompassed biology and physics. She had studied space some, but it had never really been the focus of her interests. Biology and physics had always interested her more because of how they applied, somehow, to her abilities.
"Snowcones!" Emily suddenly screamed.
Talia blinked, her entire train of thought vanishing as she looked to the stage. The ice from the demo was all now in the shape of a block and Emily had brought a tray of bottles filled with colorful liquids. Talia could scarcely recall the last time she'd had a snowcone, but she knew from the few happy childhood memories she possessed that she had liked them at some point in her past. As soon as Flint made a beeline for the stage she followed and managed to jump in line behind him, still keeping an eye on Nessa, of course. When she finally reached the head of the line her face finally achieved a smile for once as she quickly thought of her two favorite fruit flavors.
"Do you have kiwi and grape?"
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Post by Tout-Perd on May 3, 2016 8:21:26 GMT -5
“Let’s see, flavors, flavors, flavors! We’ ve got pineapple, boisenberry, mango, raspberry, blue raspberry, black raspberry... Seriously, what is WITH people and beating up raspberries? This is a serious societal issue that needs to be addressed!” Emily slung the tray around her hip, rotating it to check the other side.
“Strawberry, kiwi, watermelon, orange, blueberry, cherry-” She wrinkled her nose, “Fruit punch, concord grape, coconut, banana, buttered popcorn-”
Emily sloshed the yellow container, its spout against her fingertip, and then replaced it on the tray. The chef licked her finger experimentally.
“No, wait, that’s actual popcorn butter. No idea how that got in there.”
“Crawdads ‘n’ hushpuppies! Dibs, y’all!” Emma Ray Jo bounced her way to the front of the line and plucked the butter from the tray. Emily responded with a cheerful shrug.
“Oi! Literato, Fresa, Furball, Pelirroja, quieres algo?” Almudena took a nibble of her snowcone, golden with pineapple and tiger-striped light blue with coconut
“I... I’m...” Garth wasn’t really much for snowcones, but on the other hand, he actually could TASTE things properly for the first time in weeks. He stood up at his desk, “I’ll have a strawberry kiwi one, please.”
“Done and done!” Emily gave an affirmative nod to Kilik, who conjured another frigid sphere. As it descended onto the paper cone, Emily threw the kiwi bottle to the gym teacher. She drew the strawberry, and flipped her wrist, a jet of syrup catching the snowcone in midair. Giving the bottle a fancy twirl before putting it away, Emily spoke.
“While all eyes are on me, I think I’ll do my power demonstration!” The chef offered.
“Ah, Emily?” Thyra raised a finger, “As far as we know, you’re... Not a Power?”
“As far as you know!” Emily countered blithely, “Hey, Jesse, what Powers have you seen me use?”
“Oh-!” Jesse looked up in surprise from leaning against the edge of the stage, where she’d been sharing a snowcone with herself. She gave a quick count on her fingers.
“There was that one time you had poisonous spit! And that other time where you could slash things just by touching them!” Jesse nibbled at her frozen treat again, and murmured a quiet addendum, “You really cut up Terrian a bunch of times.”
“See, guys! For all you know, I could be an incredibly dangerous power! Watch me!” Emily stuck her tongue out, and performed the most threatening jazz-hands she could muster. When this failed to properly awe the school, the chef made a noise like she was about to hock a venomous loogie. That had the effect of making panicked students jump aside and take cover, though probably not for the reasons Emily had hoped.
“Que cono?” Almudena shot a look to Garth, “A Terrian? Is that some kind of cake?”
“It’s...” The youth brushed his hair out of his eyes, “Terrian’s a person, a Power. I actually worked with him a few times, in-”
Garth gratefully accepted his snowcone from Kilik, and chomped down on it. He chewed thoughtfully, pondering on how best to sidestep the fact that he’d done some work the incredibly unethical Fascere Order.
“In my summer job,” Garth winced as brainfreeze hit him. He soldiered on through the pain, before Alma could ask what it entailed.
“His power- Well, the way that he described it himself was ‘the ability to make fifty enemies in the same amount of time it’d take normal person to piss off one’, though it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Almudena gave Garth a hearty slap on his back, almost knocking him off his feet.
“You sure you didn’t absorb his power, Furball?”
Garth shot a sulky look at his classmate, and nudged his skewed dessert back into proper balance. He’d really dodged a bullet there, not mentioning the Fascere Order. Emily had been there for the entire debacle, but thusfar hadn’t called any attention to his extracurricular activities. Come to think of it, Thyra had mentioned Natalie as a close personal friend earlier- So the Superintendent had to know he was involved with the Order.
And then it hit him, even worse than the brain-freeze had. Natalie had mentioned that her initial bad-blood with the Fascere Order had arisen from them terrorizing the parents of a close friend of hers...And Thyra was the only living person besides Emily that Garth had seen Nat on particularly good terms with (well, Sly exempted, but Garth wasn’t really sure if the alien even had parents.)...And Thyra had said her parents were killed in a clash between Powers. Had her parents been killed by the Fascere Order?
The young power realized what this could mean for him. He’d already earned the enmity of what seemed like the most powerful being he’d ever encountered, and furthermore, it was entirely possible that the woman running the school had been orphaned by his employer and KNEW he was still working for them.
Come to think of it, she’d said virtually nothing to Silumas for blasting him across the room-
Garth dropped his snowcone.
“¿Estás bien, Furball? Garth?”Almudena gave a concerned look to her own hands, as if wondering if a slap on the back had given the frail boy a concussion.
“Oh, I’m fine. But when it comes to making enemies, I might just have Mr. Brogue beat.”
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Post by Beelzebibble on May 14, 2016 9:48:32 GMT -5
"But you're not so bad at making friends either," Deandre pointed out, "if that helps..." He watched as Kilik Ginnungap pointed an idle finger to wipe up and dissipate the flecks of ice from the snowcone Garth had dropped on the floor, then prepared him a replacement. Deandre meant what he said: whatever fears Garth might have about "making enemies", he was at least as good in building an easy camaraderie with those around him, a skill the black boy envied. His way of carrying on with Almudena as if they'd already been classmates since the first grade was proof of that. Though, Deandre hadn't been forgotten, he had to admit while letting a bite of the root beer-flavored ice melt off the cone into his mouth. Almudena had grabbed it for him. Just a little too sweet for his tastes, but there was some pleasant association anyway with the flavor... If he let it linger on his tongue he could imagine it was the root beer float he had enjoyed down in the village after he - no, not Deandre. And maybe not even "he"? This was a woman's memory, wasn't it, after she had spent the morning climbing a mountain with her fiance. Although Kilik Ginnungap's presentation had chilled the auditorium considerably, Deandre found himself rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie at the memory of the bright northeastern sun beating down on them as they'd clung to the cliff face, weaving their way up the trail hewn very narrowly into the rock to make their ascent, at one point (Deandre's toes curled inside his sneakers at the memory) needing to hoist themselves up and around a sheer stone corner with no handholds, where one slip might have sent them crashing and snapping into the trees below. Still, they'd made it to the summit, and rested there to admire the view of the beach below, a little shelf of sand and a cove of glistening water nestled in among the pine trees, filled with vacationers at play... The low bleat of the ferry cutting along the water to haul its passengers on to the next island, visible out on the blue, no more than a hunk of rock and a few pine stands, still resounded in his mind. Sometimes it was no more than a snippet, an image or a sentence or a feeling of motion, and sometimes it was a sequence like this, hours bundled up into one memory. He loved this one but couldn't forgive himself for picking it up so thoughtlessly, when it meant denying that happy morning to the woman who'd experienced it in the first place. Her fiance had been busy with his phone, snapping pictures all around at the top of the mountain, even all the way down to the diner in the village afterward - surely that was some consolation, that she could always look back at the photos - but what kind of little curse was that, clutching to the imprint of a memory instead of the real thing, trying to convince yourself, on the evidence, that you still remembered a day which had in truth vanished completely from your mind? Well, it was no more or less than the same little curse Deandre himself suffered, digging back through all his old notebooks, trying to confirm which of those written memories were still there in his head, and struggling in vain to account for which of them had already passed out of it forever. After finishing his snowcone, he made his best effort to wipe his fingers carefully on the paper cup before returning to his drawing of the Celtic knot the twins had forged for him. The endless interplay of angles and curves was very soothing. I assume Flint is dead at this point, having been murdered by Silumas in between posts for cheek.
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Post by AngelicTragedy on May 15, 2016 0:00:27 GMT -5
Long moments passed as the excitement of the snow cones began to wear off. As everyone began to return to their seats and settle in once again an aire of tension began to settle over Marius. He crossed his arms and waited for the next staff member to step forward to begin their demonstration. No one moved to take the stage. Marius turned his eyes towards Silumas, his face tranquil as he ate his tropically colored ice treat, and silently cursed him. Marius was sure that Silumas was doing this on purpose. The notation that had come with the job offers had given the order of the demonstrations and the bald magus was slated to present before Marius took the stage. Between him and Emily I will snap at the rest of the staff within the week. Marius silently rose to his feet and cast a glare in Silumas' direction before taking a spot behind the podium. Cold gray eyes scanned the gathered students for a brief moment before closing. A sense of calm settled over Marius' mind as he reached out over the island, calling for his guests to attend him. Hundreds of mental voices answered and drew near. The soldier opened his eyes once again before beginning. "Good morning students. My name is Marius Solidad, I am Lord Commander of the Fourth Legion of Drakengrad and personal student of Highlord Valon Lorsha. Here, I am the Dean of Boys, as well as head of security and landscaping. If any of you wish to speak with me at any time please do not hesitate to do so," Marius finished as he grabbed the podium and slid it out across the stage to rest far to the left. "Now, you're all wondering what kind of abilities I may have, being as I was selected to make sure that you stay safe here. Well, I'm not what would be considered a traditional power. My abilities stem from the Aldra-Sa blood that runs through my veins. Like some Aldra-Sa I have certain gifts in the area of silver magic. I'm not gifted like the Highlord, but I can activate existing crafted gateways and triggers, much like this..." Marius threw his arms out from his body at shoulder height before bringing his hands to slap on two flat sections on his ornate leather belt. A brief flash of gray mist exploded from under Marius' palms and a strong smell of ozone filled the room. A pair of wickedly curved scabbards appeared at Marius' sides each with a blade within, the pommels and guards were polished bronze and the hilts were wrapped in leather the same color as his robes. With a flourish, Marius pulled the blades from the hilts and brought them forward in a loose battle stance. "The wonders of my people. These weapons are my pride and joy. I've named them Shame and Blame and they have aided me in every battle that I've ever fought. You see, I'm a Battlemaster of Drakengrad and have proven my mettle in singles combat many times. I welcome you all to now try your best to hit me with anything that you have handy. Make the shots count." Marius sunk farther into his posture and waited for the student body to take his offer. The first thing to reach the state was a large wad of paper, thrown by Nessa, which upon entering striking distance was turned into confetti in a single breath. The rest of the students began to join in with gusto. Cups, books, a random shoe, and a launched desk were soon flying towards the stage and Marius met each item with the same cold viciousness. Each item was met with Drakengrad steel and reduced to fragments of their former states. The desk proved a bit of a challenge, but Marius handled it easily as he cast a bemused smirk towards Alma. Of course Alma would be the one to throw a desk. Marius dropped his stance and sheathed his blades before bowing slightly. "Well done, I must admit, I was worried that you all would not want to throw things at the staff but you didn't even hesitate. I can respect that." Not taking his eyes off the assembly before him, Marius lightly touched his belt buckle and slowly removed it. He gently placed the belt and weapons aside on the ground before crumbling a slip of paper he'd taken from inside of his robes and casting it to the ground. A waist high square barrier flashed into being around Marius as he began to remove his breastplate and bracers. "I may be skilled with blades of all types, but that is not my sole ability. You'll find that I'm full of tricks." Marius was now out of his armor and had begun removing his other clothing, all hidden behind his paper screens. His form cast shadows on the sheets that hid his shame from the students giving only the slightest suggestion of his muscled body away. As Marius removed his robes a series of black, gold, and green tattoos became visible. Long chains of Draconic text interwoven with symbols and images of battle, weapons, and mysterious humanoids covered Marius from just above the elbows to his neckline and over every inch of his chest and back. Though no one could see it, the tattooing continued below his waist and stopped just above his knees. The tattoos stood out vividly against his pale skin, not just for their bold coloring but also for the texturing. They tattoos didn't appear to have been applied with needles but carved into his skin with a razor sharp blade. "Being an Aldra-Sa, I have a deep spiritual connection to an animal. That animal spirit gives me strength and allows me certain other abilities. Now, I must warn you, what you are about to see is a bit messy. Kilik, you may want to restrain Carlos for this." Marius began to change. The sound of muscles and bones popping and snapping screamed through the gym like nails on a chalkboard. The shadow of legs began to lengthen and fuse, arms grew longer and sprouted rough strips of scales. Long bones pierced Marius' shoulders, flesh followed that grew downy fluff and then feathers, forming a pair of impressive wings. His lower half behind the screen continued to grow into a single powerful trunk that coiled on top of itself. Marius tossed his head sideways and his hair visibly grew longer with the motion, his mouth opened far to wide in a smile the showed wicked, needle teeth. With a slight move the screen was pushed aside and the full appearance of Marius' transformation could be seen. His lower half had become a snake body patterned in gray and brown. Marius had transformed into a massive Naga-like creature that towered well above his former height. "This form isn't the most practical, but it's nice to let the beast out once in a while," Marius said in a much more gravel-filled tone, each 's' sound was elongated. "I feel that now I should introduce a few friends of mine. They will be my eyes and ears around campus." Hundreds of snakes began to slither their way in around the edges of the gym at their masters call. Vipers, pythons, and cobras of all types boiled into view from everywhere. None moved towards the students or staff, none even seemed agitated, but just watched. Their tongues seemed to whip out in unison as the mass of serpents took in the room before coiling back around and disappearing. Marius wore a huge grin that literally stretched from ear to ear. "Just know, I see everything that they see. Step off campus to cause trouble and I'll know about it. Run into trouble somewhere on the island and can't find help? Just speak out loud for the snakes, they will let me know where you are. Now if you'll excuse me, I must make myself more decent," Marius chuckled, or what sounded like a chuckle, as he retrieved his clothing from the floor and slithered out the gym door to transform and dress.
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Post by Silumas on May 17, 2016 9:36:36 GMT -5
Silumas took his snow cone and munched on it happily. It was a strange sensation he had to get used to; eating. It had been millennia since he had required food, so he had stopped eating to not waste time. His grievous wound suffered upon him by the being of darkness months ago now made him somewhat mortal again, so eating had become a necessity. He could still exist at will, but it required more effort than it had in a very long time.
The tiger's blood flavor had become his favorite in his short few months on earth. In fact, sweets in general had become somewhat of an obsession for the Magus. Cookies, baked goods, cupcakes, and especially hard candy had become a regular purchase of his. He had tried summoning them, which was easily done, but it just did not have the same delicious taste that something handmade did.
Marius began his demonstration, and Silumas honestly found himself impressed by the mortal being. It took a great deal of effort, patience, and discipline to master an art as the Boy's Dean had. Silumas was not certain, in fact, that in a duel of purely martial prowess Silumas would come out the victor. When the Battlemaster had finished, Silumas found himself nodding out of respect for the skill demonstrated. Marius' previous displeasure with the higher education teacher seemed completely missed or ignored.
Then there were snakes.
Silumas was not afraid of snakes, at least not that he would admit, but he was not pleased when they were around. He had commented before that snakes, at least in the common form they take on this plane, were a unique creation. Something Silumas had stated he was more than happy about. When Marius became a giant snake-like being, the Archmagus sighed. He had thought more of the Boy's Dean moments before, yet now, he was a slithery, slimy creature in a human's skin. Or, at the least that was how Silumas would view him from now on.
"We will now hear from our eldest instructor, Silumas," Thyra announced.
Silumas scowled at the woman for a few moments. Being the obviously most powerful among them, it would be only fitting that he finish out the demonstrations, despite how much he protested them being part of the school's orientation. Not only was Silumas the most power member of the faculty, he was the most powerful being on this plane of existence. He stared daggers at the superintendent who just stared back, their gaze carrying across the argument Silumas was too prideful, Thyra too professional, to speak aloud.
Finally, Silumas gave a small sigh, and rose from his place. The Magus nodded slightly in deference to her. The motion was a strange one on him, and it was obvious to most observers he was either unsure she deserved such respect, or he was simply unused to performing such a motion at all. The Elementalist slowly approached the stage, his motions obfuscated by his garb. With each step a breeze picked up pace faster and faster around the room until a noticeable current circulated the auditorium clockwise, casting paper and loose cups about haphazardly.
As he passed Thyra he leaned over, “You will want to speak with the local magistrate, advise them that their town is in no danger yet…”
Silumas made no obvious casting motions while this occurred, but it was apparent from previous experience just today that he was the source of the commotion. He said not a word, and still further strangeness occurred. A very deep red flame overtook the entire floor of the auditorium, and despite expectation, it merely made the room slightly warmer, even touching it bore no real harm to anyone save for a little perspiration. The heady scent of burning pine wood filled the room with the flame, but not a thing truly ignited. Before it was easy to become used to standing on harmless fire, it began to rain within the auditorium. It was a light, some would say pleasant rain that was the exact temperature of the mighty room within which they found themselves. The extremely perceptive would notice the dust unnaturally bowling towards the stage, gathering on either side of Silumas. A few moments went by with the light rain, harmless fire, and gusty breeze before the dust settled into small figures of toy soldiers on either side of Silumas. Small pieces of debris served as weapons: a straw here, a paperclip there, a bottlecap shield over yonder. They stood in a disciplined formation and faced each other, right against left.
Then, Silumas snapped the fingers on his left hand.
The couple dozen dust soldiers on his right roared tiny dirt roars and charged the left. Dust kicked up in small clouds as the little men fought, died, and performed a rather simple military assault on the other. For those versed in history it was reminiscent of an early roman attack on the Gauls, a pincer draw and surround. This little combat went on for a few interesting moments before Silumas waved his hand, briskly as though he were annoyed, and the wind, fire, rain, and dust settled into an eerie silence.
Silumas let that silence stand for a couple of long, agonizing minutes before he finally spoke, "Death, Fire, Life, Water, Earth, and Air. The six things that make up everything in this universe. They make up all of the universes. Those six quintessential forms ARE Creation and all her dimensions."
His right hand outstretched and a dark, vicious looking liquid began pooling in a sphere on his palm, "You have seen a small demonstration of what I am capable of with five of them: Air," the air began to pick up its breeze around the room again, "Earth," the little soldiers began to form beside him, though now they were entirely still. "Water," and the small droplets of rain began again, and a small smirk appeared on Silumas' face as this time the water was ice cold, while not necessarily painful it would be shocking, "and Fire." The fire caught along the floor again, still harmlessly warm it held no nasty surprises for the students and faculty.
"'But!' some of you are saying, that is only four!" Silumas smiled at a few of the students he knew had caught on to his 'miss count'. "Life," Silumas said and the little soldiers all snapped to attention at once, " and Death," he tossed the sickly, vile looking sphere of liquid in his hand casually in the air, "are the most difficult of the elements to control. Some of you would know them as Chaos and Order, but that is a lesson for another day." He clapped his hands, the ball of Death vanishing, the dust soldiers scattering into small piles of dirt, the rain, wind, and fire all snuffing out simultaneously.
"The..." he hesitated for a second, eyes narrowing in distaste for what he was about to say, " 'Power' I possess is a knowledge and skill with Elementalism, the ability to manipulate, control, and use the Six for my own interests. For good," and Silumas gave a dangerous looking smile, "and evil."
He began to pace the stage, though still it remained difficult to see if he floated there or gracefully walked, "Luckily for all of you, my 'Power' is not a unique one, nor a gift few can receive. It is a knowledge any being can possess, and can utilize. During your time with me you will learn the more scholastic," Silumas cleared his throat a bit and everyone could swear they heard the word 'boring' but it was impossible to say for sure, "pursuits, but also you will learn Elementalism, at least the very basic forms I can teach you in the all too short amount of time we will have. Through that discipline you will learn control of your more unique Powers. You will learn how to utilize what you know to help others, or yourselves, as you see fit."
Silumas stretched his hand out towards the large window facing the shore, “Creation, or as many on this world call her, Nature, is a powerful beast. The four primary pillars of Fire, Earth, Water, and Air are the least subtle and elegant, but carry tremendous power.” The skies outside had darkened several shades and far out at sea ominous thunderclouds flashed with wicked lightning.
“You have seen this power manifested in the disasters of this world. For instance: the hurricane,” Silumas’ eyes flashed and fingers wiggled. What seemed to be dozens of miles away was suddenly crashing ashore. The wind howled, seas rocked with wild waves, and yet the enormous freighter that had been tugging along seemed relatively unaffected. The various flora bowed beneath the might of the gale, the roof and windows rattling under the assault.
“Air is a powerful force, and Water moreso,” he said as those watching the hurricane noticed the ocean draw back from the beach by a hundred yards. The distant whine of the tsunami warning system could be heard. In the span of only a few seconds a wave the height of New York City skyscraper stood towering, but unmoving, a mile off-shore. It hung there like the shadow of a tombstone.
“It would be difficult for me to do such a demonstration with Earth or Fire without hurting someone, so trust me when I say a volcano or earthquake are simple tricks in the arsenal of a Magus. It is controlling these bringers of fate that is…” Silumas slowly lowered his arm and the hurricane died down to a gentle thunderstorm. The rogue wave threatening to demolish the nearby city carefully, incredibly, dissipated into a surfer’s dream and that was that. The freighter, frightened and shaken but whole, continued its journey. “...complex,” Silumas finished his sentence with a small exhale. No sweat, no strain to his voice, just the slightest release of tension and strain.
“I will teach you control. I will teach you discipline. I will teach you power…” Silumas gave the barest glimmer of mirth with a twist of his mouth, “over your Power.”
Silumas stopped and his face turned as dark and ominous as the storm he summoned, "But most importantly, you will learn respect. Of me," he glared at Garth, "of the faculty here. "
"And for each other," he almost growled, that frightening glare turning to the clique that was seated on the bleachers.
"I am Master Silumas, Creator of Isolation, Ruler of the Uncountable, Archmagus," he spoke as he glided or walked or some might say stalked to the edge of the stage back towards the faculty, "and I will be your instructor."
He finished speaking exactly when he reached the edge of the stage and again, it was hard to tell if he floated down or stepped down the stairs and back with the group of teachers. He turned back to the student population but he seemed lost in thought, not truly paying much attention to the aplomb or silence he would receive.
I have certainly chosen an ambitious project...
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Post by Yoshimitsu on May 19, 2016 16:41:38 GMT -5
As soon as he realized Silumas wasn't taking the stage, despite the undoubtedly meticulous scheduling on Thyra's part, Kilik pushed himself into a standing position. With a flick of his wrist to keep the ice-ball floating, just in case anyone else wanted another snow cone (not likely, given the staff left to perform), he strode over to the bleachers. Marius stood up, which didn't surprise him as much as he thought it would; Thyra was the obvious choice to diffuse the situation, he figured. Still, he'd started walking for a reason and he wasn't about to let any more trauma hit some of the most vulnerable kids. "Hey, Tallis," Kilik greeted casually, dropping into the seat next to him. The kid's grip had loosened on his friend's hand, but the fact that there was still contact... "Coach," Tallis said in response, though the easy confidence he'd been displaying earlier was gone now. Bravado, that's what it was now. He deliberately ignored the moniker (Silumas can abuse it as much as he wants, I've been called worse) and inclined his head slightly, angling his head so that his voice wouldn't carry. "Fair warning," Kilik said, keeping his tone light. "The Aldra-Sa general up there, he's probably about to tell you his weapons are called same and fame or something, but he's about to summon about a hundred snakes into this room." And even out of the corner of his eye, he saw the kid's entire body stiffen. Alright, not the most tactful approach ever but if appealing to fear was enough to stop another panic attack, Kilik could ignore the moral ambiguities for now. "Snakes? Really?" Tallis offered, and yeah, that was definitely bravado. "Yeah, I know," Kilik replied, easily keeping his tone fairly casual. "The gay dude controls snakes. Next thing, the bisexual kid can throw rainbow flames around. That one ace guy puts on the biggest display of colour. Crazy world." He leaned back to get a better look at the clique, the girl on the far end, Melanie, she apparently hadn't heard what was going on since she was picking dirt out of her nail-beds. The bigger boy, though, he'd noticed something was going on, if the glances at Tallis, Claire and their joined hands was anything. "Look, I get it, you guys can't just run from this shit," Kilik continued, leaning forward and adamantly ignoring the mental image of Thyra frowning at him for using a cuss word. He was barely five minutes older than these kids, he was pretty sure he was allowed to break the standard protocol when it came to their safety. If there was a standard protocol for a school for teenage Powers. Was there? Probably not. "So why are you telling us?" Claire said, and her voice was critical, stern, not quite cold but there was a definite chilliness to it. Kilik levelled his gaze on her, meeting her eyes. She didn't falter, not immediately, but her gaze dropped back to Tallis very quickly. She was concerned, and rightly so. He wasn't panicking, not yet, but it wasn't looking promising. "Because I can get Tallis out of this room without any questions asked," he said quietly, loud enough for the kids to hear but quiet enough for no one else to. Image was everything to them. Better to look like they were getting in trouble for something. "Claire, if you're not convinced I have his best interests in mind, you can come too. You gotta decide quickly though, 'cause Mister Same-And-Fame up there isn't waiting. Tallis, do you want to leave the gym?" And it was a tense moment. At the end of the day, leaving the gym was Tallis' decision. Kilik wasn't about to force him anywhere, neither was he going to try to convince his friends that it was the best course of action. Teenagers were teenagers, and these teenagers in particular could be stubborn in the worst ways. All that power with no outlet was never a good combination, and none of these kids came from particularly happy pasts. "Let's go," Tallis said. Kilik nodded once. He stood up and started the descent down the bleachers, making a conscious effort to ignore not only how Tallis and Claire were following him like lost puppies, but how a lot of heads turned in their direction, Thyra's included. He gestured vaguely at her, a twirl of his wrist that he meant to mean I got this, though it might have come across as my hand is spasming right now. Either way, he pushed through the doors of the gym and tried to remember the layout of the building. "In here," he said, pushing a door open after a few minutes of figuring out what eldritch monstricity had a hand in designing the building. Maybe he was just bad with directions, or maybe Thyra was fucking with him, either way he'd found a room that could be describled as defensible. As soon as Tallis and Claire were inside, he touched the door and let ice fill the gaps between wood and concrete. Ignoring the questioning looks from both of the teenagers, he pulled out his phone and fired of a text to Thyra to explain what was going on. As he expected, neither of the kids had much to say. Tallis looked like he was still on edge, which was pretty much how he'd been since Ben had transformed on stage (and again, Thyra, you thought that was a good idea?) and Claire... Claire's composure only dropped when she looked at her friend. Indifference to concern in the blink of an eye. How long had these kids known each other? "Why snakes?" Tallis asked, and the question threw Kilik for a second. Not the question itself, but the fact that Tallis had been the first one to speak. "He's from Drakengrad," Kilik replied, leaning against the wall next to the door, his arms folded. "They're all weird there, but he's part of their military. They always have something up their sleeves." "But snakes?" "Yeah, I don't get it either," he admitted, shrugging. "Best I can figure, it comes from the British dragon. The superstition surrounding them came from what the Brits feared at the time. Snakes happened to be a part of that." The silence fell again, and he wasn't really expecting anything else. Claire was sitting close to Tallis, but they weren't holding hands this time. Looking at the... boy wasn't the word, the teenager, he couldn't escape referring to him as a kid. Looking at the kid, Tallis, the way his shoulders were dropped, the way he was staring at the floor and never making eye contact with Claire, even when he did raise his head to speak to her. Claire's gaze was always on him, but he couldn't meet it. This kid had grown up so much more than he had expected.
"So what do we do with him?"
"The orphan?"
"Yes."
"What do you suggest?"
He saw the kid's shoulders raise, the pose change to something that was ready to either fight or run. He might have been wearing foundation once upon a time, there were still marks where the colour
"But it's the right thing to do," Illiana countered, fixing him with a stern gaze.
"If that's your decision, I'm with you," Kilik replied, extending a hand "What do you think's going on?" Claire's voice brought him back to the present, and Kilik shook his head, shaking the memory away for now. He checked his watch, estimating how much time both Marius and Silumas would take in their showboating. "Marius is probably done by now," Kilik said, after a moment. Tallis wasn't up for speaking at this point, he figured. Out of fear or panic, he didn't know, but the alternative was watch him enter his own personel hell. When all was said and done, Kilik was going to have a very long, very stern conversation with the other staff members about reading the bios of the kids under their care. Specifically, what not to do to trigger their issues. Stern gazes and finger-wagging would be essential. "I can't speak for Silumas, but he's probably at the point of his speech where's calling himself the Master of Italics, Ruler of an Abacus Somewhere," he continued, touching the closest shard of ice to the door and letting the entire thing unfreeze. "If you guys wanna return to see Thyra's demo, you can do. I'll make up some excuse if you don't want to, though." He watched them both hesitate, and that was all he needed to know. A couple of minutes later, he walked back into the gym and the doors swung shut behind him. This will probably go through editing later but I ain't havin' people wait on me
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Post by Tout-Perd on Jun 5, 2016 11:59:33 GMT -5
As Marius stepped up and called for attention, Garth slouched down and tried to avert it. After a moment of thought, he squeaked his desk over and angled it, placing Ben between himself and the Dean. It wasn’t a deliberate human shield thing, but having Ben watch his back made him a lot more secure than being left in the open around that cold-eyed soldier.
The disciplinarian drew two scimitars, each one looking too immense for Garth to lift with both hands, and set to cusinarting his way through whatever projectiles the students could muster. Almudena, bless her soul, got up and hurled a desk at him. Garth couldn’t be sure if it was her getting revenge for his own harsh treatment, or if she just really enjoyed the wanton destruction of furniture. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, the youth guessed.
As if that wasn’t enough, Garth’s favorite teacher began stripping down to demonstrate his next power, judging by the armor and clothes at the edge of the concealing screen. The bearer of the Ophiuchus Amulet couldn’t judge- His powers worked best when he took his shirt off to reveal the sigil his medallion had scoured into his flesh.
Marius emerged as a warped creature, half man and half serpent with immense feathery wings that belied his bestial nature. As he bared his fangs, Garth squirmed in his seat. That was... Just a little too close to home. He remembered Nopcsa telling him that the effects of the Zodiac Amulets varied from person to person, an expression of their innermost heart and soul through the filter of its power.
“In Mexico, we got bigger snakes than that,” Almudena noted smugly, with only a slight quaver in her voice, “Por supuesto, never actually seen one myself. It’s a shame... I could use un nuevo cinturon.”
Garth mostly tuned her out, nodding to show he’d heard her say something. Instead, the vision of the man Uca Argentis tearing his own face apart as crab jaws errupted through ragged shreds of his lips kept playing again and again. If he’d been different... If he became slightly different, could that creature on the floor be what he’d become?
Something tickled deep in the pit of his stomach, and Garth writhed uncomfortably. He braced himself- Belwyn had said she’d taken away his symptoms, but that they’d return. And the very last thing Garth needed was to puke all over Ben and Alma. The flutter moved up to his chest, and Garth went still. It wasn’t inside him, it was outside, and felt like it could be a bug of some kind, creeping its way up his chest. He’d need to discretely swat it, lest Almudena spotted la arana and hammerfisted it (and Garth) into oblivion.
Garth slapped at the tickle, in a surprising burst of golden sparks. The embers wafted towards the ceiling, brightening and coalescing into a sinuous form.
“Wait, what are you-?” Garth sat back up, as a small serpent crafted from iridescent flames spiraled through the air. It rose into the rafters, hovering passively, waves of fire shifting from green to blue as they flowed along its body. The serpent Ophiuchus joined its earthly brethren in abjection to the Aldra-Sa, bowing its head. The jet of white-hot celestial flame that served as its tongue darted out, tasting the air and mimicking the mortal serpents.
As Marius dismissed his legions, the living inferno exploded silently, fading sparks of violet wafting down from the ceiling.
“Muy bonito, Furball,” Almudena noted, casually swatting a burning mote out of the air.
“More liked muy boned...” Garth grunted, gritting his teeth, “I don’t know if you understand what just happened- But Marius-”
Garth tried to suppress a shiver, and failed utterly, shaking as if he was immersed up to his neck in ice.
“Alma... Marius can control my powers.”
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Post by ch00beh on Jun 5, 2016 13:45:51 GMT -5
As the handkerchief left Franky's hand, the boy blinked. The world was still when his eyes flitted open again. Alma had seemed to recoil from Deandre, and the black boy's eyes were looking everywhere besides the girl he had handed a tie. Franky took a good hard look at both of their reddening cheeks. "Well, that is interesting."
Leverage was the first word that came to Franky's mind.
Everyone started to move again and the staff started their presentations. The flip flops guy, Kilik, went up to do a snow thing. It was pretty fun to watch, but Franky wasn't too into snowcones so he didn't bother getting up. He made a mental note watching the spooky guy--Silumas?--nearly jump out of his seat to get one of the frozen treats.
The buff guy, Marius, went up and started talking afterward, though out of the corner of his eye, Franky noticed a couple of the kids, Carlos and Evelyn, were escorted out. Judging by the look on Kilik's face and looks from the rest of the clique, this was a move to avoid triggering something in the boy. Franky recalled reading something about animal abuse in Carlos' files, and the thought was reinforced when the auditorium was soon turned into Indiana Jones' worst nightmare. The rest of Marius' presentation had all the flair of a military parade. It reminded Franky of his dad to some degree, which didn't sit well at all with the boy. Eventually, the snakes disappeared and Marius was human again, headed back to the staff table.
"We will now hear from our eldest instructor, Silumas."
Tall, dark, and stormy himself contorted his face into a menacing scowl for the briefest of moments followed by a stilted nod. Silumas seemed to be someone who was used to being the most powerful person in the room, both in ability and standing, yet here was about to do a performance for a bunch of kids. At first, Franky expected something quick and dumb, but the swirling winds in the auditorium that simply came with Silumas just standing up gave the boy more chills than warranted.
Fire spread over the floor and Franky instinctively froze time before the flames could reach him. "I know you don't like us, but you're really going to make us all die in a fire?"
The boy then looked at all the desks ahead of him. They didn't seem to be catching fire, nor did the kids in them seem to be screaming in agony. Franky took a deep breath and let the world back into motion, and the fire engulfed his feet. It was actually less unpleasant than the wind.
Rain started coming from nowhere, and the burning floor ignored the patter somehow. Franky again froze time. He was definitely soaked, and around him were floating drops of water, catching light from the frozen fire below. The boy waved an arm through the rain in front of him, and each drop he touched seemed to realize the ridiculous state they were in and either soaked into his collared shirt or continued its journey to the ground. "Guess this isn't an illusion..."
The trail of empty space in the rain dropped to the floor as time began to move again. Amidst the other elements, motes of dust began to form little soldiers. With all the grandeur of Caesar at the arena, Silumas commanded them to fight. After tense moments watching a little guy with a paperclip spear fend off and defeat several other soldiers, Franky noticed that he was leaning hard into his desk, and his knuckles were white from gripping its sides so much. The awe Franky felt here was nothing compared to moments after, watching Silumas command a hurricane and tsunami without breaking a sweat.
"It would be difficult for me to do such a demonstration with Earth or Fire without hurting someone, so trust me when I say a volcano or earthquake are simple tricks in the arsenal of a Magus."
Simple tricks?
"I will teach you control. I will teach you discipline. I will teach you power..." Franky momentarily made eye contact with Silumas then the teacher continued moving his powerful gaze over everyone else, "over your Power."
"But most importantly, you will learn respect."
You certainly have my attention.
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Post by Loogs on Jun 15, 2016 14:46:02 GMT -5
BLAMThe double doors slammed against the wall as they swung out with great force, allowing entrance to an assembled team of adults, all wearing identical red jackets embellished with stripes of blue and white; they were wheeling in a balance beam, some hoops, gym mats, and other gymnastics equipment into the auditorium. Spearheading the cavalcade was a confident young woman in a matching red varsity jacket with a blue S stitched to the left breast and two patches, one embroidered with a megaphone and the other with a silhouette of a person performing a handstand split, on the right breast. While the team of adults merely walked into the room, the girl was swiftly and deftly cartwheeling and front handspringing toward the crowd, her long black ponytail whipping in arcs around her head. Ignoring the commotion they just stirred in the crowd, the team stopped next to the stage and waited with the equipment as the girl handsprung into the wings and landed steadily on her feet next to the seated Terminer staff. “Hi, sorry for the delay, took us a while to get all the equipment picked up and loaded and brought over here. I’m Río Mondragón from Seungri Academy in Permata,” she introduced herself, a beaming, anticipatory smile spread across her face despite the inconvenient tardiness. “Would you allow us maybe five minutes to set up for my demonstration here?” The response from the staff was mixed. Two scary-looking men, a wiry, silver-haired one in robes and a bald one also in robes, grimaced sternly at her. A spiky-haired young man in flip-flops merely raised a bemused but barely interested eyebrow. Only the woman in the ponytail and the gaudy apple earrings large enough to rival Río’s own dangling golden hoops seemed to share their excitement as her eyes lit up and she clapped her hands energetically. Finally, a woman in a suit and glasses turned around from preparations of her own and acknowledged the group. “Oh, Río! I’m glad to see you finally made it to Terminer.” She glanced over at the large group on standby near the wings, furrowed her brow a bit and slightly pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, student demonstrations are over, and I am about to close out the staff demos. I’m afraid there simply won’t be time for you to set up and perform.” Thyra offered a sympathetic look to the late arrival. Río was still beaming, but the corner of her eye betrayed a tiny twitch. “I’m sorry, excuse me?” “Miss Mondragón, I’m afraid we don’t have time for you to set up and do your presentation. My sincerest apologies to you and to the Seungri faculty who took the time to come here and--” “ Excuse me?!” Río’s voice, before a polite conversational tone, crescendoed into a piercing banshee shriek so shrill it caused some members of the audience to recoil in shock. The Seungri team now glancing at each other embarrassedly and wondering if they should intervene, she took a deep breath and launched straight into a fulminant tirade. ”I have been practicing this routine for five straight weeks, I have worked hard 24/7 to perfect every last move, we spent a fortune getting specially-made equipment shipped here, my coach canceled a big meet and flew in all the way from Baltimore to help us out, we have invested sO MUCH TIME AND EFFORT AND YOU ARE TELLING ME?! THAT DEMOS!!!!! ARE OVER?”Río was now on the verge of tears, shaking violently, with her teeth tightly gritted. Thyra was taken aback for a moment at the girl’s brazen display, but as always, regained her serene composure before continuing. “Miss Mondragón, I will have to ask you to please keep your voice down—“ ”NO! WE’VE PUT IN SO MUCH WORK! I WON’T FUCKING LET IT GO TO WASTE! I REFUSE! I CAN’T EVEN—“At last she hit the breaking point. Río’s words warped into a resonant wail and she erupted into tears, and before any of her assistants could stop her, she dashed off towards the exit bawling. Both schools’ staffs silently traded uncomfortable glances, no one brave enough to offer a solution for this unexpected complication.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Jun 15, 2016 17:19:52 GMT -5
"Well, EXCUSE ME young lady!" A woman's voice called sternly from behind Rio, the door swinging shut with a punctuating bang. The apron-wearing teacher, Emily, stood in the hallway, arms akimbo, her flip-flops firmly planted on the tile floor. Her sole apple earring swung back and forth like a pendulum, still jostled from the gymnastics she'd performed.
"We have rules in this school, and you can't just go parading about shirking them whenever you like!" Emily's feet slapped the floor loudly as she approached Rio, her chin jutting out. She looked Rio in the eye, "What is a shirk anyways? Is a shirk a kind of lizard? Or maybe it's some sort of shirt-skirt combo? Wait, that's just a dress, isn't it?"
Emily put a finger to her lips, deep in thought. After a moment, her brow furrowed, and she pointed that finger in accusation.
"Anyways, you broke the most important rule of our entire school! What do you have to say for yourself?"
At that moment, a cupcake dangling from a parachute made of napkins came wafting down from the ceiling. Rio reflexively caught it, feeling its solid heft in her hand.
"You left the gym without getting your cupcake-" Emily's pout turned into a sly grin, "For shame, Rio!"
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Post by Loogs on Jun 16, 2016 4:24:26 GMT -5
And so scratch scritchit began. After living BZZZZZZwith it for 16 years, Río had developed bzzzzza tolerance necessary for regular hmmmm day-to-day life. Under duress clack clACK, however, the symptoms became tap tapagitated, and quickly plop overwhelmed plopher plop. There was BA-BUMPno escape BA-BUMP, no matter BA-BUMP how badly BA-BUMPshe wanted BA-BUMPto rip BA-BUMPa hole and claw out BA-BUMPof her own skin BA-BUMPThe hallway sllshhHSHHwas currently abandoned wshh; not a soul lingered pshhhhhhhh. So thEN WHY?? WSHHHH hOW COULD IT BE HSSSHSHHSHSO LOUD? ?? Every last drip, every single clack, everything in the vicinity that made any sort of movement chhkkKHHH, Río could hear it with unbearable clarity. And the lights. The lights seared into her retinas, scorching through her nerves and incinerating her head in an excruciatingly painful manner. Closing her eyes was an exercise in futility. The light seeped through the eyelids and left her dizzy and disoriented, the agony pound pound pounding away at her temples incessantly.Río sniffed and tried to keep herself from sniveling further. She inhaled the mucus in her nose and sucked it into her throat, and hghHHHH oH MY GDO EUUUGHHH what a TERRIBLE move, the sliminess and saltiness of it instantly sent her retching and heaving. What a great first day so far! Flight delays ( HEURGH) and itchy seats ( HUHHHG) and horrific first impressions left for the faculty( UHHGHHG) Fan-fucking-( EEEECHH)-tastic, really. No, seriously Río, you’ve really ( AUUUGHH) outdone yourself this time thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thumpwhAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THAT RACKET COMING FROMShe wiped away tears from her eyes and could just barely distinguish through the fuzz the silhouette of a woman holding a lump. Now the formless phantom was trying to talk to her; Río could hear the timbre of her voice loud and clear, but the words were registering intermittently. “…rules……parading………shirk……you broke………..……..left the gym without getting your cupcake!” Río regained lucidity at last, just in time to catch the lump that was tossed in her direction. She regarded it and realized it was indeed a cupcake, frosted delicately in royal blue, a red-and-white striped candy ribbon draped over its surface, converging at a single point into a miniature golden cookie. “I made it unique and special just for you, you shining, gold-medal Olympic star!” Abrasive sugar peeling at her gums like sandpaper? A mouthful of dry, gravelly, crumbly cake to choke on? A cloying saccharine taste coating her tongue that was sure to make her vomit for hours? She offered the gift back to Emily. “Yeah, no thanks, I don’t really do sugary stuff—“ “No, Río, you must not have understood me,” Emily insisted as she pushed the treat back into her hands, “I really did make it just for you. C’mon, give it a bite. Trust me.” Río’s brow furrowed in frustration. What the FUCK did you not GET when I said “I don’t do sugary stuff— but something—desperation? exhaustion?—compelled her to take a hesitant nibble out of the cupcake, and ooOOOOOOOHHHH THAT IS HEAVENLYThe textures did not assault her senses; on the contrary, they felt absolutely divine. The frosting spread smoothly and softly across her tongue, the cake perfectly moist and yielding as she finished chewing through the bite. It tasted of mango and cantaloupe, with the frosting providing a melody of blueberries to the experience. And the taste was just right—not too sweet and not too tart like processed sugar and real fruit, but not bland and uninspired like the under-flavored foods she had long resigned to eating because it was either this or a violent upset stomach. Río enthusiastically munchchomped away at the mmmphrest of the cupcake smack smack. How did crunchshe do it? How hmghhdid she know? When at last GULPshe was left with nothing but an empty wrapper, she lifted up her head to regard Emily with sheer awe and admiration. “That… That was perfect… But how…?” The acrobatic wonder struggled to articulate into words the immense gratitude she was feeling. Emily didn’t really need an explanation; Río’s expression alone was enough to get her bouncing in place and clapping her hands together. “No… Nobody takes the time to… To do something like this… For me. Everyone just thinks I’m too… picky, too fussy, like I choose to… to not eat and drink regular food. I can’t even—“ Once again, Río’s words became garbled as they stumbled their way through the crying, although this time, her humbled voice was hushed and murmured.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Feb 21, 2017 14:32:11 GMT -5
CANDIDATE NUMBER TWO. <- MARIUS SOLEDAD SMTG SMTG OF DRACKENSMTG? BOYS DEAN N.B. GOOD W/ SWORDS. "SHAME & BLAME"... STRIP I.F.O. STUDENTS?? GIANT SNAKE – SNAKES E/WHERE – SURVEILLANCE SNAKES. MAJOR N.B. Deandre flinched as a young ball python wriggled along the perimeter of the room past his desk, leaving him to wonder at his own response. The snake wasn't full-sized, and anyway he didn't really mind them. But there were... reactions, revulsions, that came over his body sometimes, without feeling like they belonged to him. Memories of a different kind, he guessed, sense memories instead of cerebral ones. Someone else had recoiled from a snake, once, maybe standing on a sodden riverbank in Peru or a dusty country road in India or just an overgrown New Mexico backyard, and here he sat, fear tingling up his ankle to his knee, while a snake had passed by that was perfectly harmless-looking, even cute. But whether or not he could explain his own anxious reaction, it was clear that others in the room felt much the same. Garth was looking even paler than before, and discussing something in a shaky undertone with Almudena – who, for her own part, despite holding her head as high as ever, kept stealing cautious glances at the form of the ten-foot, needle-mouthed gorgon now exiting the auditorium. Titus Bolten, or Bolton, had drawn his lanky limbs as close to his body as they would allow, while some distance back on the bleachers, Mel's face was pinched with disgust. Dalisay Salazar couldn't be found, which probably meant she had taken refuge in a new hiding spot. The twins, Eira and Aiden (or something), were rattling their desks and shouting very dismissive words at the snakes zigzagging out of the auditorium. Even the staff looked more perturbed than not, apart from Miss Shwartzwald – who, Deandre felt, if the boy's dean could transform into a nightmarish half-snake, really should have transformed into something too in the name of fairness, like maybe some kind of cupcake-themed harpy. "They will be my eyes and ears around campus . . . I see everything that they see. Step off-campus to cause trouble and I'll know about it."What kind of schooling environment was this? What was it Mrs. Kostelecky had promised, a place of "trust and understanding", where the students would be able to come into their own as Powers and as people, free of judgment, and only now he was told this grand design included being kept under observation at all hours and in all corners? This was the best Terminer could come up with in sending a message of good faith to its students? With a sudden squirm Deandre thought of the boxes and boxes he'd brought with him from home in the states, now stacked in his room halfway to the ceiling – not that it was snakes getting into those boxes he was worried about, of course, but if Mr. Soledad's show was any proof of the school's casual attitude toward surveillance, then Deandre couldn't see anything stopping the boy's dean, or CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE, or anyone else from strolling in and unpacking his entire life at their leisure. And for what, nothing more than missing curfew...? Oh, he needed to hurry up, he needed to transcribe more onto his laptop... but then there wasn't too much protecting his laptop, either, as far as that went... and still the thought of actually discarding those years' worth of worn and wrinkled notebooks made him wince... There was no use dwelling on it now. The snake-man was gone, and Miss Russell was calling up CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE, and if any staff member's presentation demanded Deandre's full attention, it was CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE's. A gentle breeze picked up as the bald man took to the stage. Deandre delicately laid down his pen against the corner of his notebook to keep it open to a fresh page, then almost immediately had to hold the pages flat with both hands as the wind picked up to a forceful draft that swept an entire incoming class's worth of soggy paper cones into the air. A sudden speck of dirt that whipped into his eye made him squint, but he could still make out a strange sight on the platform: Even as the wind blew harder, the bald man's cowl and robe held eerily still, as fixed as his expression, save only for the fluttering yellow fabric against his right leg. Then the floor caught on fire. Deandre only had an instant to process the terror of this before realizing that the flames were no more than pleasantly warm and that they were neither damaging the auditorium nor spreading to anyone's clothing. Having felt he'd missed his opportunity to cry out in fear, he simply extended one leg and then the other, wide-eyed, watching the fire lick his sneakers harmlessly. There were gasps and screams from other students, but they gave way soon enough to astonished laughter. Almudena pounded her black leather slippers against the floor with a whoop. Only Flint, the ice-wielder from Greenland, leapt out of his chair with a hateful expression. That prompted a mild twitch of the lip from Mr. Silumas, but otherwise the teacher's face was as unreadable as before, while the orange patterns on his right sleeve danced and flared. No smoke issued from the fire, though Deandre could smell burning wood all the same – or was it only his nose stubbornly supplying the memory of a sensation just to spite this physical impossibility? He was still twitching his nostrils, his face upturned, trying to decide, when the first drop of water landed on his nose. He gave a start and slapped the notebook shut immediately, then stuffed it into his roomy front pocket and pulled the dark blue fleece hood over his head. The rain was an agreeable temperature, and a number of students stood up and stretched their arms out to enjoy it – Nessa Weir threw her gloved hands over the twins' shoulders from behind and shook her curly hair out in their faces, prompting a splattery tussle – but Deandre only drew the strings of his hoodie tighter and sank into his seat. Coming from seventeen muggy summer seasons in Savannah, he could appreciate a rainstorm for clearing the air, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy getting caught in it. One notebook left in a thin, meshy backpack, and turned into a bloated squeeze-box, had been enough. He folded his arms defensively over his belly, hunching forward, and watched the stylized cerulean raindrops zigzagging down Mr. Silumas's left leg. The fire was still ablaze a few inches up from the floor, which kept Deandre's sneakers dry, at least. Another thing he couldn't stand getting wet was socks. After a moment, the teacher made a fourth show whose theme Deandre could now predict: sure enough, he formed the accumulated debris of the auditorium into two armies of tiny earthen soldiers who launched into battle. Through the dust clouds kicked up by their collisions, Deandre could see the landscapes stitched onto Mr. Silumas's left sleeve contorting: valleys crumpled into mountains, mountains smoothed again into valleys. He was struck by the classical quality of it: air, fire, water, and earth, all ordained just as ancients from Greece and Babylonia to China and Japan had described them millennia earlier, when atoms were not yet an idea. There was an artifice here, Deandre thought. It couldn't have been that the teacher just happened to control the exact four powers that had been a cultural cliché for centuries. He must have chosen to cultivate these specific magical skills as a statement. And yet, when he finally began to speak, he described those elements (with "life" and "death" added in) as though they were indeed literally the components of existence – as opposed to, say, argon and zinc. Was Mr. Silumas speaking metaphorically? No, surely, Deandre could accept a sorcerer conjuring up a ball of oily black liquid in his palm, but to name that "death" and claim it was a fundamental substance of the universe... Was chemistry off the curriculum, then? Were they here to learn pseudoscience? Natural sciences had never been a strong spot for Deandre, but if it came down to five points on homework here or there, he was pretty set on identifying "fire" as an exothermic chemical reaction, not a cardinal element located inside candles and people with red hair... "Luckily for all of you, my power is not a unique one, nor a gift few can receive. It is a knowledge any being can possess and can utilize. During your time with me, you will learn the more scholastic pursuits, but also you will learn elementalism – at least, the very basic forms I can teach you in the all-too-short amount of time we will have..." Deandre drew in a sudden breath. Then he pulled his notebook back out, scoured the water from his desk with a wipe of his sleeve, opened back to where the book had been when the rain had started, and, paying no attention to the faintly damp quality of the page, began to write furiously. CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE would be teaching them the same powers as he had? I CAN'T DO MAGIC. But that was untrue, as far as he knew; after all, Mel hadn't gotten her powers from some paranormal fluke, she had simply studied magic until she was able to practice it herself. Spellcasters were the most equitable kind of Power, seemingly able to come from anywhere, even if Deandre had heard that few people had the aptitude to pick it up within any reasonable span of their lives... and why not him, why not any of the students in the room, who were already peculiarities in one way or another? All the same— I DON'T WANT TO DO MAGIC. The words surprised him even as he wrote them. That was really what it came down to, though: the fact that Deandre Clarks, whose power was already taxing enough as it was, who'd enrolled at Terminer Academy on the basis that it would help him and the other students control and refine their abilities, was unprepared for the stress of dealing with any more; that as fun as it might be to light a fire in his palm at will or carry himself away on a gust of wind, one power had already done enough to drive a slow and heavy wedge into everything in his life he had loved back in Georgia; and that (even if it "shouldn't have mattered" now that he was halfway on the other side of the world) he could barely even put together enough dread to imagine telling his parents that he was learning magical powers from a bald white wizard with the title of Archmagus and a fondness for corporeal punishment. And here you are. Right? And here they are. Your mom, sitting on one side, holding your hand, giving you a hopeful glance; your dad, on the other side, with his hand on your shoulder, but not having looked at you, not once since Mrs. Kostelecky sat down; she, on the other, smaller sofa, a wide-faced white lady with her hair up, sitting very straight, holding a briefcase on her lap. This is yours, right? Obviously. It's yours. "...trust and understanding, I assure you. Our goal at Terminer is to help students refine their powers for the goal of doing as much good in the world as possible. Naturally that begins with fostering an environment of goodwill within the school itself. Our administration is well aware of Deandre's gift. They're not going to be wringing their hands and talking about expulsion just because he, uh..." (Mrs. Kostelecky hesitates here) "...remembered an answer he shouldn't have on a calculus test. If we weren't prepared to take on students in the more cerebral range, we'd be closing our doors on some of the most promising Powers of tomorrow!" It's a sales pitch, mostly words she's been repeating in living rooms all throughout her tour of the states, and someday later you'll realize that, but right now those words are sliding away the rubble of years and bringing to light again a way of thinking about your power like you haven't since you were a child. It's your "gift", it's a chance to do "good in the world", you – you, Deandre, adequate essay-writer but horrible test-taker, extracurricular disappointment, hopeless sportsman, with teachers and friends alike slipping out of your grasp every half a year or so – are "one of the most promising Powers of tomorrow". But it will become apparent to you in time, looking back, that your father has already chalked this up as a commercial. His expression, the thin moustache pulled back in a very slight grimace, is more or less the same one he held while talking to the door-to-door home security salesman last week. "Have you ever met a kid who can do what he does?" he asks. "No, not specifically," Mrs. Kostelecky allows, "though that's really not a cause for concern. As I say, 'mentalism' is a very big tent, as diverse as any of the other kinds of Powers in the world..." "And what other kinds are those?" asks your father. "Oh, some of them are physically superhuman in one way or another, you know, super-fast, or super-strong, or so on. Then there are the morphs, who can transform their bodies into animals, or even other things... and plenty who can control a particular kind of matter, like water..." At this moment Mrs. Kostelecky evidently realizes she's gone off-script, and also notices that your mother is grasping your hand harder than ever. She quickly waves her palms. "Not that your son will be in any danger from them! We at Terminer are well prepared to shepherd all varieties of Powers. The core faculty are all Powers themselves, and more than capable of handling any unexpected situations and ensuring the students' safety. Our superintendent, Thyra Russell, has a gift that's – well, nothing but protective. She can form defensive barriers with a thought. That's her right there—" And Mrs. Kostelecky points down at the open pamphlet lying on the coffee table, at one of the headshots arranged on the page. She speaks very proudly. It will occur to you later to wonder whether Mrs. Kostelecky is specifically interested in making sure you notice Thyra Russell because she is black. Your father glances down at the pamphlet, but not for long. "I would guess you're a Power, too?" he asks rather directly to Mrs. Kostelecky, looking up. "I would guess," she says with a soft chuckle. "It's really very minor. In the literature they call it 'descrying'. I'm not so fancy, myself. I just say I've got a good old 'eye for it'. I know how to pick them out of a crowd. It's a kind of sixth sense, you see. Obviously why I'm in this line of work for the Academy." Her hands sweep expansively as she goes on: "But descrying is by far the most common ability. Do you know, the latest estimate is that at least one in ten thousand people can do it? In varying degrees, of course. That's hundreds of thousands of people, most of whom don't even consider themselves Powers! They just have a sense about it... Something attracts them to the supernatural, whether it's an environment, an object, or another person..." You want her to go on, to tell you whether she saw anything in you to confirm the Academy's fact-gathering – to reveal whether you were a blip on her radar or a spike – but your mother has a different question, and you can tell by the way that she lays your hand down and places both of her own firmly in her lap that she's steeling herself for it. "Has anyone ever... stopped being a Power?" Mrs. Kostelecky inclines her head slightly. "That's a very interesting question. Yes, some have, but not many, and science hasn't yet pinned down why. The closest I've heard is that people with especially dynamic powers seem to be more inclined to lose them early. It's as though the power is so fatiguing to the body that the body eventually rejects it. But we're talking about things much more volatile than Deandre's very stable ability. Anyhow – you wouldn't like to lose your power, would you, Deandre?" She smiles at you. You look back at her. You don't know how to answer. You know the answer that she wants to hear, but you also know in your heart that it's not the answer your parents want to hear... and when it comes down to the root of all, you realize that you truly can't tell whether you'd be relieved or heartbroken to wake up tomorrow with your mind entirely your own again. You hold her gaze, weighing your response, just long enough to see her wide smile falter a little. And now with a lurch you suddenly wonder whether she's afraid you're using your power on her right here. So you very quickly say: "No, ma'am, I wouldn't." "I'm sure I didn't think so," she says gently. To your mother, she adds: "By the way, in case this is why you ask, even if Deandre's power were to diminish or disappear completely in his time with us, he would still be welcomed to stay on at Terminer for the remainder of his education. His scholarship is fully paid up already, you see, along with boarding and the necessary air travel. Several very wealthy philanthropists in the Archipelago have invested sO MUCH TIME AND EFFORT AND YOU ARE TELLING ME?! THAT DEMOS!!!!! ARE OVER???????"Deandre blinked. A girl about his age whom he'd never seen until now, flanked by a parcel of adults in athletic uniforms, was screaming at Miss Russell. The red-faced girl broke into tears and fled the auditorium. How strange. After watching the double doors swing shut with a boom, it occurred to Deandre that he'd lost track of what he was thinking about. He'd also missed CANDIDATE NUMBER ONE dismounting the stage. All of this puzzled him, but he couldn't waste any time mulling it over. He quickly flipped back to the pages where he had been cataloguing the students, found an open space, and wrote: LOUD GIRL NO DEMO. Then he turned a few pages forward to the staff. Student demonstrations might have been over, but he hoped that didn't mean Miss Russell wasn't intending to give one of her own, to close out the ceremony. After the shock of the last two, he badly needed a reason to put his faith in Terminer Academy again.
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