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The Micro-Scenes thread

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3 years 7 months ago #32031 by Kaitha39
Kaitha39 replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
A farm in Syria

Eliza knew that this would be the day she died.

It didn't seem fair. She'd only ever tried to do her best, and to love her parents as much as she loved God. In these final moments, it just didn't seem fair though. All her life, she'd never taken in just how unfair it was. Even when the rains stopped, and the farms struggled, she'd never considered it. Her family had been lucky when the devils first came through the town, and had been ignored. She knew a lot of people had run away, to the west. She'd seen on the TV, back when it worked, the opulent life lived by those godless heathens in the west. She hadn't really cared though, since she knew that their world could never be her world. Her father had taken the fact they'd been ignored by the devils as a sign that they'd be fine to stay.

“They're through there! They're hiding in the storeroom.”

“Don't let them escape!”

She could hear the devils approaching. It was the third time they'd come to her village, and they weren't ignoring her family any more. She knew they wanted to kill her, just because she read from a different book than them. This somehow made her unclean, and therefore deserving of death, or worse. That had never made sense to her. All three of the major holy books said to love each other, so it didn't make sense that people hated and killed each other.

And... just... why... her... ?

She'd always done her best, tried to live a good life, as it said to in the holy books. Well, in the holy book her parents read to her. She knew there were other holy books, but her parents told her they were false.

She knew that the people who read from those books, said the same thing about the holy book her parents read from. Worse, she knew that they were nicer about it, claiming that although the mighty Yeshua the Anointed was indeed a prophet, he wasn't the final prophet. Eliza didn't know why, but that sounded better than what her parents said about Mohammed. (Eliza still wasn't sure if she should add the 'Peace be upon him remark' that the Muslims added. Eliza knew they also added it to Yeshua the Anointed, but she didn't know if she should be adding it in return. Her father hadn't answered that question when she asked, instead reminding her that she had to help plough the grain fields.) It had almost seemed... rude when her father dismissed Mohammed as merely a crazy warlord who grew up surrounded in many religions, and many gods, and he decided to justify his conquest by claiming he had spoken to the divine, though he hadn't.

Was there ever even a way to know for sure, who had spoken to the divine? Yeshua the Anointed had lived twenty hundred years ago, and Mohammed had lived fourteen hundred years ago. Neither had actually written anything themselves, nor left any physical evidence that still existed. Everything was second hand accounts, or even third hand if some of the westerners were right. Who could say if what was written was what was said at the time?

So Eliza had decided that she would just try to be the best little girl she could be, and not worry about any of that. She'd remember the sermons, and remember what parts she had to say and do to be accepted, but she decided she wouldn't think about that stuff. It seemed like the church leader thought about it enough for everyone anyway, and she was just a little girl. The church father could read, even the difficult words of the holy books! She knew she didn't need to know how to read any more than the directions of the instructions in the cook book, or the road signs so she could help take the cattle to the market.

“They've locked the door! Bring up the battering ram!

Eliza hugged her sister Ruth closer, huddled as they were behind the pots. She knew that if they had gotten this far, then her father, her uncle, and her two brothers were already dead. Even little Thomas, young enough that he could barely lift the pistol. They had stayed at the entrance to the barn, hiding inside, to hold the entrance to the bunker with the family's rifles. It made her feel empty. She'd never be able to hug father again, or to share in the eucharist, or read over David's shoulder as he taught Thomas to pronounce the words.

She knew that if they were banging in the pantry door, then her mother was also dead. She'd stayed in the kitchen proper with Eliza's two aunts, hiding the girls in the bottom of the pantry, with sacks of grain between them and the door. It was uncomfortable, being squeezed in, but Eliza knew that it could save them if the devil men looked inside.

As she heard the ram smash open the door, and heard the arabic shouts obscenities about her mother's purity, followed by the boom, Boom BOOM of the shots she knew that her beloved mother was no more. She wanted to cry, but knew that she couldn't afford to make the noise, or the devil men would find her and Ruth as well.

Ruth... was too young... to share her concern as deeply.

“What was... in there! In THERE!”

The door was wrenched open, and the sacks removed, and Eliza was dragged out, and thrown across the kitchen.

The blood was everywhere. All over the cooking pots, all over the table. Where her mothers body was. The source of the blood. Eliza couldn't hold it anymore. She didn't need to hide from the devil men, because she was already found. The tears formed in her eyes, and she sobbed, the first of many, as the dam broke and she wept over her mother's corpse, no longer caring that the devil men were raising their guns at her.

She heard Ruth's voice, but she didn't care.

She was about to die. The devil men would shoot her, as she cradled her poor mother's body. It was coming. Any second now. It would come, and she would find out which of the holy men were right about what comes after.

Any second now.

It would come.

Any time now.

“E... Eliza, help me. We have to go. We have to go and meet the Western men. The one in the suit... he'll take care of us now.”

Ruth... Ruth was shaking her. She wasn't dead. She also wasn't in the kitchen.

Where was she? And why... why were her hands the colour of pure snow?

Any stories or Characters I put out are available to write around. Feel free to borrow them!
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3 years 7 months ago #32038 by null0trooper
null0trooper replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Because my own humor is just that twisted:


Later that evening, Back at the Bat Clinic

"Well, Jericho, this could be your lucky day after all!" The forced smile on the nurse's face didn't do much to encourage the boy - they'd obviously had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to avoid stapling ligaments and stitching skin back together. Conventional surgery was tried and true, but the healing time plus physical therapy would cut deeply into the gadgeteer's ability to complete his schoolwork.

Ignoring the boy's grimace - it was his fault Siofra couldn't help, after all - the nurse continued, "It turns out that Generator had one of her devises available to be recalibrated for hand injuries. Something about it being a good thing that her stomach wasn't making the rumblies - the kind only hands satisfy? Someone from Security is bringing it over now, so let's make sure the wound is clean."

A few minutes later, Joe Turner was treated to the cheerful sight of Officer Jensen carrying a sealed case marked "Sterile Medical Equipment - Do Not Open Until Needed", in crayon, and still-drying glitter glue. He'd thought his fate couldn't get worse until the rent-a-cop started scrubbing up. Wracked by visions of doom and disability, he didn't even notice the nurse bring in a sterile tray suited to minor injuries or that said rent-a-cop really was scrubbing up.

"I know there's a doctor on the floor this time of the day. Are there orders for an IM muscle relaxant? I can get Jericho back to Twain if that's an issue." Whispered to the patient, "They get all upset if I just slip the injured some painkillers. I've even got my own injectors!"

Oh, god. They were really going to do this. Mall cop field surgery, Wondercute medical devise, and all.

Removing the devise from the now-opened case, when did that happen?, "Handy Handlady: Activate!"

"Activated."

It's Official. The Universe hates him.

The next several minutes were filled with a barrage of medical jargon even the medtech-oriented patient had trouble following. Soon, but not soon enough, the horror show was over.

"Generator does good work. I'll need to tell her that some time. Handy Handlady: De-activate!"

Once the expended disk fell off, all Jericho had to show for it was a reddened mark, some sore muscles, and a Hello Kitty! styled hand brace.

"You still want to use the hand as little as possible for the next 24 hours. Don't worry, we've already sent notifications that you'll be wearing this to your House Parent, and to your Workshop instructors in case you want to work on projects over the weekend."

Jericho thought that was the end of it, but as always there was still paperwork to sign off on, and so forth. Just outside the Clinic doors, he felt a slap on the back of his left shoulder.

"Good going, Jericho. You handled that like a true trooper!" Auxiliary Security Officer Not-A-Frickin-Mall-Cop Jensen loudly announced. The short bastard gave him a tilted half-smile and a thumbs-up before heading off to wherever mall cops go on campus.

Not too much later, Mama Turner's loud-mouthed son had heard enough laughing behind his back to stop and take stock of where his wardrobe had gone wrong:

  • Company (blue) Shirt
  • Company Badge
  • Company Patch
  • Company Tie
  • Duty Belt
  • Black Pants
  • Black socks
  • Shined black shoes

And a fused hand and wrist brace, with metallic glitter complementing the Sanrio motif.

Ballistic-grade rip-stop cloth for the conjoined shirt and pants meant that Jericho should be damned glad that the "mall cop" comment had not been bad enough to skip the front-to-back three-way zipper. Finding out how a freshman would know about such things would have to wait for his so-called "friends" to stop laughing.

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3 years 7 months ago #32084 by Kaitha39
Kaitha39 replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Doyle Medical Center, room 120, Friday afternoon, November

Danny sat in the room in Doyle, waiting for this supposed healer to come. He could have gone to his sister, he supposed, but he didn't want to. If only because she'd either berate him for ignoring his spirit again, or because she'd find it funny where he was hurt. He felt like killing Gauntlet for pulling on Wihinape's tail, the damage of which had still remained in his human form, while attempting to shoving his claw where... No, best not to even think about it.

“So, Mrs Hair Lady said that you hurt your tailbone or something?”

The sound of the door opening caused Danny to break completely from the spirit world, where he was studiously ignoring Wihinape berating him for his abysmal performance in the fight. He gazed at the door, where a little red-headed girl looked like a picture in a pink princess dress, a pink tiara, and black Mary-Janes. Wihinape noted to him in a non-vocalised whisper, that her white under-shirt, opera gloves and tights made it so that the only open skin she was showing was on her neck and head. He didn't know what, but that symbolised something.

Inwardly, he cringed. He hadn't had much luck with the other junior high students. Okay, the goth silver-haired girl hadn't given him a second look, much less of a first. But the rest had been some of the worst offenders in what he was coming to consider the “Evil Petting People” - those girls who couldn't resist stroking him or touching him if he was the slightest bit furry. It was really starting to rankle – He had been told, both by PSA's by the school and by 'being raised right' by his parents, that he shouldn't touch girls in an overly familiar way if they didn't like it. So why couldn't the girls return the consideration?

Gender equality was sometimes somewhat loose, he thought.

“Well, what's the cringe-face for? Did you hurt your tailbone, or not Kitty-boy? You want to tell me where I should heal?” The little girl seemed slightly... vexed.

“You... you don't want to pet me first?” Danny was shocked. He had shifted to his half-kitty form, lacking the tail but having fuzzed up. It'd been the most comfortable state to remain, as painful as it still was.

“Mummy and Daddy told me it's unpolite to treat people different when they have GSD, even if their fur is soft like a cat's or they look like a vampire's nightmare. Like, Uncle James is a 'Beast-Boy' shifter and we're only alloweded to stroke his fur if he says it's okay. He usually does though. We're not alloweded to touch Uncle Bob at all though... But hey, we're in the healer building, so shall we be doing some healing? Where does it hurt?”

“You... you're not just trying to get my defences down, so you can hear me purr, are you?” Danny asked with some small amount of fear. He hated his purring.

“Mistah, I'm sure it's adorable, but I've just been speaking to Iron Jerk-face, and his poopyhead delusions. I'm wanna'ing to do some healing. So unless you want me to just blast you with enough strength to push you into the wall, you wanna just tell me where I should heal?”

“Okay, sorry. Just... Don't tell my sister about this, will you? I don't want her knowing what happened.”

“Mummy says I can only talk to Mrs Hair Lady and Dr. Betty about anyone I heal. Besides, I don't know who your sister is, so there.” She stuck her tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry as well. Danny figured that she must really have no idea who Kayda was, which was a relief, and a worry.

Even though the male nurse with the little girl had him have to take off his trousers in a most embarrassing way, and even though she needed him to shift through all of his forms to get his tail sorted out, for some reason, Danny didn't think he minded this little girl so much. At least in comparison to the others.

Any stories or Characters I put out are available to write around. Feel free to borrow them!
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3 years 7 months ago - 3 years 7 months ago #32119 by Schol-R-LEA
Schol-R-LEA replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
"Dammit, that's it! Imma so running that bitch down!", growled the faux redhead, as she glared daggers at Inquisitor. The former Peter Bradford, who had been taking her disgust at her own changeling transformation out on everyone around her - especially the one MTF student in their group who hadn't been altered in that way by her mutation - turned and sneered.

"Damn it, Carla, no!"

"Oh, yeah? Since when are you such a fan of Mary's, Ruth?"

"I don't give a fuck about her, but if you transform inside Poe, it'll trash the hallway again!", the RA cried, pointing at the damaged walls and tire marks already on the floor near where Carla had gotten her fenders stuck the last time she changed while indoors.

Out, damnéd Spot! Bad Doggy!
Last Edit: 3 years 7 months ago by Schol-R-LEA.
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3 years 7 months ago - 3 years 6 months ago #32157 by Schol-R-LEA
Schol-R-LEA replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
"Okami-samaaaaa! Ohayo!"

On hearing the young girl's voice behind her, Hikaru winced and even shuddered a little. Surely that thing couldn't have made it all the way here on her own..?

Turning to face the speaker, she saw exactly what she feared would be there: a young girl, no more than six from her appearance, in a baseball cap, a red blouse, and a denim jumper, and wearing a pair of oversized eyeglasses. Sighing inwardly, she said (in Japanese, of course), "Arare, how did you get here...?"

The android - a creation of one of her teachers, made when the woman was a student herself and built to look and act like a popular manga character - said, "I flew here, silly! Mama asked me to deliver this to you, she said it was very important." The robot held up a package longer than she was tall, and resembled a metallic version of the sort of tube which was used to carry posters or architectural drawings... but it also radiated considerable magical energy.

Hikaru's mind jumped between curiosity about the package, and irritation that Miura-sensei had decided to test out the robot's latest improvements without saying anything about it to her. "Thank you, Arare-chan, if you could please hand it over to me, you can be on your way."

"Mama said I could stay for a while! I wanna play around here, it looks like fun! I even made a new friend while I was waiting for you to come downstairs, she's from China and has a very pretty bell on her tail!"

Out, damnéd Spot! Bad Doggy!
Last Edit: 3 years 6 months ago by Schol-R-LEA.
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3 years 6 months ago - 3 years 6 months ago #32239 by Kaitha39
Kaitha39 replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Whateley Lakeside picnic site
Sunday October 21st 2007

“Catch me, catch me!”

The younger girls were playing joyfully in the clearing of the picnic area, as their older cottage mates were moving the veritable feast onto the bench table from the baskets. At first, their game seemed like it might have been some form of tag, but it soon became apparent that it had a few extra rules. For one, none of the girls seemed to be actually allowed to touch the ground, as a marker to “The ground is lava!”. The few who couldn't achieve some version of flight or levitation by themselves, seemed to be using a variety of gadgets and devises to keep aloft. For another, it seemed that the girls were transferring who was 'it' by means of silly string lassos.

As Maggie moved to catch Estelle before she crashed into the bench and ruined the food, four young men and one short girl stumbled out of the forest and into the clearing. Each with their clothing in tatters and, in several places, caked with drying blood. On their left biceps, all five wore a black band with red letters, spelling out U-V.

“Heh heh heh, what do we have here? Awww, are the little dollies having a little Barbie picnic?” The boy in the lead asked.

“Wouldn't it be such a shame... if something happened to it?” The girl added, reaching around the boy in a hug, while digging her nails into his side hard enough to break his skin.

“Bloodwolf. Maggot. Killstench. Hela and Necro. I have you all on video, and it's going straight to security.” Belinda 'Crystalline' Mathews said, pointing to her phone. “They're already on their way, so why don't you make this easy and piss off before they get here?”

“Ooooh, that sounds like a challenge. And you know how beating down a challenge makes me feel afterwards, don't you boys?” Whichever of the boys weren't salivating due to the thought of the oncoming fight they would start, was clearly made to salivate by that thought.

“... aunt Sammy, who're they? Can they play tennis with us later on?”

“Um... No, Ceilidh, they can't. Why... why don't you take Estelle and Miranda, and go help Maggie get the other basket from Hawthorne?” Samantha 'Beam' d'Cruz didn't so much question, as ordered and shoved the smaller girl in the direction of the buildings. But before the pre-teen could so much as take a few steps, Bloodwolf had shifted forms, and jumped in front of her path.

“And where do you think you're going, pup? Off to get your mummy? HAH. I'm going to enjoy breaking you... And your little band is pathetic. I'll have you know that I've the spirit of the werewolf. Even if you could hurt me, I'd heal faster than you could believe, and then return it.” He proceeded to grab her forearms, ripping off her own red and black armband, and lifted her to be eye-level with him, in quite a painful grip.

“Is that why you have that scar on you?” The petulant reply came, tinged with a spot of mirth, as the girl looked at his chest through his ripped shirt. “What does that even …. he, hehehehe, hehehehehehehehe, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”

The werewolf's hands dropped the little girl, but she didn't fall. She was instead surrounded by a blue glow, as the boy became surrounded by a red one. In seconds, he began screaming in pain, as blood began flowing from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth, and hundreds, if not thousands of little papercuts began opening all over him, just big enough for blood to flow out from.

The other boys rushed forwards, ignoring the other girls who were slowly, carefully backing away, to join in the fight, while Hela watched curiously from a distance. They managed to cover no more than half the distance between the giggling child and themselves, before they too were surrounded by a red glow. Before they too were screaming in pain, as they began bleeding from all their orifices, and they too received the papercuts. They were then sent shooting off into the lake, as the security forces arrived on the scene, gulping in fear.

A small globe of light came from the group of girls, huddled around the bench, striking Ceilidh in the chest, just as the papercuts on Bloodwolf began stretching into large, deformed sawblade-length slashes.

Any stories or Characters I put out are available to write around. Feel free to borrow them!
Last Edit: 3 years 6 months ago by Kaitha39. Reason: Spelling typo
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3 years 6 months ago - 3 years 6 months ago #32269 by Schol-R-LEA
Schol-R-LEA replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
"Hey, Narns, did you get a look at that horse guy?"

Matt gave his best friend Amy, a curious look. "Huh? No, I didn't. One of the froshes?"

"Yeah. He looks like one of those animal people on that TV show, the one about that island?"

"Oh..." Matt wasn't a big fan of Paradise Island, but he'd seen it a few times. "Oh! that must be the guy Toni told me about!"

"Tony? I thought he graduated last year..."

"No, I mean my sister Toni. With an 'i'. She said she'd gone down to Paradise Island to talk to one of the kids, because he thought he might have some kind of ki powers. Turns out he's an Energizer, and they're all confused because he's the oldest one of the Horse animen who wasn't, I dunno, transformed into it or something. They aren't sure what it means."

"So, wanna go meet him? I mean, he maybe one of the kiddies, but I bet he's..."

"Don't even finish that sentence, I don't want to know." Matt always wondered about Amy's tastes, after all, she wouldn't go out with him, so what's wrong with her?

Out, damnéd Spot! Bad Doggy!
Last Edit: 3 years 6 months ago by Schol-R-LEA.
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3 years 6 months ago - 3 years 6 months ago #32276 by Schol-R-LEA
Schol-R-LEA replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Whateley Academy, January 1968

Well, I have to admit, I had volunteered for this. I was really surprised to hear that none of the big Mad Scientist types in the Syndicate had done as much with computers as I had; it was an embarrassment, I tell ya. The ones who had? They knew only the ones they built themselves, and most of them were, eh, pretty iffy if you ask me, too dependent on stuff that didn't really work for anyone else. We really oughta come up for a name for that kind of thing.

Anyway, when the time came to check out just what the school was doing with the dosh set aside for their fancy new mainframes, I ended up with the job. I had no problem with that; if no one else could see how big a deal this stuff was becoming, all the better for me.

After meeting with Dr. Alexander in the main office, we took a ride down one of 'secret entrance' elevators to the computer rooms. Once there, I was surprised to be greeted by someone whom I knew.

"Dr. Morey! It's great to see you again, professor." I did not expect Alan, the guy who taught me about computers in the first place, to be down here of all places!

Dr. Alexander gave me a bit of a squinty grimace, but he knew better than to say anything. "Mr. Kotok! I wasn't expecting to see you here... Is that young Dave over there?" I added, pointing to a teen who had been hanging around the AI Lab last to time I stopped by to brush up on the latest tricks - tricks that helped me get one over on a pack of TAROT agents a few weeks later, as it happened. I seem to recall there was a lot of arguing over whether they really ought to be letting a junior high kid walk around the place and fiddle with robotic arms and such, but a bunch of the 'hackers' had taken a liking to the boy and wanted him to stay.

"Yeah... actually, he's the reason I'm here. He started here at the school this Fall, and he got to talking about me with one of the Engineering teachers, so they decided to look me up."

So, young Silver is a mutant? Can't say I'm surprised, it was pretty clear from the start that he was doing things no one else could figure out. "He's a Gadgeteer, then? I hope I got that term right."

Dr. Alexander interrupted, saying, "That's actually a matter of some debate among the faculty, actually. Since the school opened there has been uncertainty about whether there is only one such trait, or two. There's is talk of creating a separate category called 'Devisor' for those whose work appears to violate ordinary physical laws. Mr. Silver here is one of those who seem to work from ordinary principles, but in extraordinary ways."

I nodded; that information was worth the trip by itself. I turned to Kotok again and said, "Well, shall we get on with the tour? I hear you were one of the primary designers of these new model Ten computers, I'm sure you have a lot to say about them..."

Out, damnéd Spot! Bad Doggy!
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3 years 6 months ago - 3 years 6 months ago #32282 by Esar
Esar replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Friday October 13, 2006 :

Alex put a hand against the wall to support himself. He was desperately trying to avoid falling down, with moderate success. Each step was slower than the previous one. At this point he chuckled and wondered if he would make it home before the sunrise or if he would just drop to the ground along the way home and just sleep the booze off. Even he could realize that he had drunk too much tonight and despite his bravado during the party, teenagers were not meant to handle that much alcohol. Nobody was meant to handle that much alcohol. Or maybe those exemplars that Alex had heard of.

Paradoxically, it was in this advanced state of inebriation that he felt that he truely could see things clearly. He was on the verge of passing out from the alcohol when he left the party, and yet no one really cared about him. Or at least not enough to bother to make sure he would be ok on the way home. He was not even sure they would have taken his keys if he had come there alone by car. For all his so called popularity, his jock status was no more than a shooting star burning through the sky. The fall would be brisk and abrupt, causing a lot of destruction in its aftermath. Maybe it was still time to steer the wheel.

As if to extract him from this thought, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned back and found himself face to face with what he had to assume was human or else he would have to question his sanity. The stranger was tall and slender, with piercing red eyes glowing in the night. He allowed a few seconds to pass to let Alex gaze at him and bask into the oddity of the encounter. The eyes were not the only thing that screamed "mutant" about him. Even if in the dark of the night they were particularly captivating, his most distinctive features were rather his second jaw, his grey skin and while it could have passed for dreadlocks what was on his head was definitely not hair but rather some kind of bone-like formation.

This appearance coupled with the red tuxedo jacket he was sporting didn't leave much doubt about his identity in Alex's mind.

The obviously GSD affected mutant reached out his hand, "Hi. You must be Alex, aren't you ? You can call me John, I find the use of codenames in this kind of situation quite impolite. Don't you think so too ?"

Alex didn't shake John's hand, which didn't make John's wide grin falter. Those teeth looked awfully sharp to Alex.

He sighed, "Well, it seems politeness is a lost virtue among your generation."

Still not quite understanding what was happening to him, Alex stammered a weak apology.

"Nevermind, I am ambushing you while you are unmistakably still sobering up. At least you are not puking on my jacket, which I am quite grateful for by the way."

"You ... You're welcome."

"See ? We are already making progress here. It's the start of a beautiful friendship." John moved forward and put his arm around Alex's shoulder, guiding him toward a less lighted alley. "Alex, I must admit that I haven't come here just to admire your witty comebacks. I have a problem and I am hoping I will be able to smoothly fix it with a simple heart to heart conversation. Easy enough to follow so far ?"

Alex nodded, not wanting to contradict the man and not trusting his voice to not betray his fear.

"Cat got your tongue ? Nevermind, but I will have to hear your delicate voice at one point." He cackled. "Does the name Blake Newman ring any bells ?" Instantly, John's voice lost any trace of friendliness.

It hit Alex like a whip. "Yes, he ... he is a classmate." he answered, almost choking up now that he understood where the discussion was going.

"Would you say that you are both getting along ?" inquired John, his voice still devoid of any emotion.

"I wouldn't call us friends but there are no hard feelings between us." tried to lie Alex.

His inquisitor would have none of that. "Bullshit !" he yelled, from both of his mouths, which made the situation even more surrealist. But Alex was more focused on the right hand that had made his way around his neck, lifting him in the process. Claws were slightly digging into his flesh, drawing blood. But what truely alarmed Alex, and quite frankly made him instantly sober up, was the vision of the sacrificial knife that john pulled from his jacket with his left arm. The edge of the knife was glowing red and Alex couldn't look away from it.

John sighed and lowered the boy to the ground, but still kept his knife out in the open. He matter-of-factly apologized, "Sorry, I try to portray myself as civilised, to fight against GSD stereotypes, but unfortunately as a rager I still have sometimes some outbursts of temper." He left this last notion hanging the air, as if he meant it as an implicit threat. The grin was back.

"What do you want from me ?!" cried Alex.

"Don't be like that, it does not suit you. The thing is, normally I don't mind people like you. I tend to see you as a necessary evil." He paused, it almost seemed that the next statement was painful to admit. "Unfortunately, I am an hypocrite. See, I don't care much about other people. But if you target one of the two people I truely consider to be worth something ? I don't care about the hypothetical place you were meant to play in my representation of the world. I have to interfere."

Alex's eyes were still riveted on the knife. He saw the freak raised the hand holding it and brutally plunged it ... in his other arm. In a swift motion the arm was cut at the elbow and dropped to the ground. There was no effusion of blood. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. John seemed unaffected by the injury and simply turned his back on Alex.

He began to walk away but stopped to add, "I would have liked to say that it was a pleasure to meet you, but I try to avoid lying these days. As I said at the beginning, it is the start of a beautiful friendship. Or maybe not, who knows ?" He then disappeared.

Alex let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. However his relief was short-lived. The severed arm, still lying on the group started to throb. It crawled on the ground in his direction. And yet his legs refused to allow him to run away. He was mesmerised by the movement of the arm. Or rather what had begun as an arm because the piece of flesh was slowly morphing into something far more ... hellish.

When it launched at him, he couldn't help screaming.
Last Edit: 3 years 6 months ago by Esar.
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3 years 6 months ago - 3 years 6 months ago #32383 by Kaitha39
Kaitha39 replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Homer Gallery, Tuesday 28th August 2007

Eliza stopped in her tracks, looking around the room.

Her eyes tracked every exhibit, being marveled at the appearance of some of the items, the defunct death rays, the costumes, the portrait she barely spared more than a glance at, and coming to rest on top of the biggest pile of gold she'd ever seen.

It was so much gold, she thought it was so much that not even President al-Assad had as much in the palace! Not that Eliza had seen it. She hadn't seen anything except for her little farming village, the insides of the westerners transports, and now this school.

By the grace of Allah, what was she doing in an American school? She understood a little bit of the westerner's language, English, but had no idea at all how to read it, let alone write in it. She could barely write in Arabic. She'd never needed to. Would they need her to convert to using English all the time? Would... would she need to start using that strange western word, 'God' instead of 'Allah'?

Was it okay that she was going to be learning anything, at all? She'd always left that stuff to her father, her uncles and brothers, and to the church leader. Did... did she need to learn anything more?
It was all so confusing.

/It'll be fine for you to learn, dear one. It won't be a problem/

Eliza felt like screaming! There it was! That strange voice in her head again! She felt, despite what the man in the suit said, that she must be possessed by one of the servants of the seven princes of hell. Most likely Asmodeus, given what she was told she had done in the bunker by the man in the suit, and the new body she found she could take on. Or possibly Sathanus, given what she had done while they apparently were paralysed, with the hands over their groins.

/I may be a spirit, but I have no connections to any lower plains dear one. And that form is granted to you to protect you from those who would harm us, my host. Do not fear it./

Eliza knew that the souls of those men, if their own beliefs were true, were now in the Islamic version of the pit, for having been tempted by her body. She didn't know what actually happened there, but she knew they believed that she had been the one to condemned them. But she hadn't been able to talk to the church leader since the bunker, so she didn't know if she did carry their sins upon herself, or if they were just wrong. She knew that the Holy Bible held that each man and woman was individually responsible for their own sins, but she didn't know if some of the blame fell with her.

She wished she could talk to the church leader, or at least her father, to get them to explain these things to her. Though she knew she couldn't. It was blasphemous to think you could talk to the dead.

“Okay, so, this is what we're here to see. This is a picture of Lord Paramount, ruler of Wallachia over in Europe. He's an alumni, and a big donor to the school. But he has a rule that every new student has to see the picture within 24 hours of coming onto campus, so here we are.”

Eliza wished that Ruth was here, at least. She knew that Ruth had come to the states as well, but she was being looked after by some normal American family, not being shunted to this school. She wished she understood more English, written down, so that she knew what was written on the pieces of paper she had signed – with her own signature! - to be able to attend. The man in the suit assured her she had no obligations to come work for him when she was done, but she knew he expected it. She didn't even understand who he was, he'd introduced himself as something like “An agent of the 'Seeing A'” or something. She didn't understand his English words enough, and he hadn't had the Arabic to confer the idea clearly enough. But he would only find a home for Ruth if she put her name on the paper, so she did. Ruth needed looking after now that mother and father were with Allah, so she did what the man in the suit said, and now she was at this... was the word “school”?

/You'll be able to see your sister again Dear One. I can feel where her soul is. And this school is both necessary and dangerous. It has much to teach, but would be unsuitable for one as young as your sister. Do not worry for her./

Eliza felt like screaming again, to hear the voice. But it too, thought this place was a good thing. Eliza didn't know if that was good or bad. She so wished she could talk to the church leader again.

How decadent the west must be, that they can not only afford to let each and every child, even the girls, have time to go to school, and not also work in the fields! Let alone the decadence it takes to make a school whose entire lot of students were possessed by demons to grant them powers!

Any stories or Characters I put out are available to write around. Feel free to borrow them!
Last Edit: 3 years 6 months ago by Kaitha39.
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