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The Micro-Scenes thread

3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #43103 by Rose Bunny
Rose Bunny replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Lucy Jensen looked around uncertainly as she held her tray of food. She had arrived early to check in with the medical staff and the house mother over at Hawthorne. She had had one embarrassing incident already, scaring her new advisor and counsellor with an unexpected outburst.

Opting for a table that looked out of the way, she sat down. Nearby there was a group of kids looking at her, one girl kept glancing over at her. She was a cute girl with brown hair and eyes, not an exemplar by any means but still cute. She looked as the girl nudged another one of her table mates,
a young asian girl with long black hair that couldn’t be more than 9 or 10.

The girl got up and walked her way. Lucy fretted, ever since her manifestation, she hadn’t really had any friends. Partly because of her being a mutant, and partly because her long-lost little brother kept embarrassing her.

“Hi, I’m Jade!”, the young girl said, in a cheery manner. “What do you do? my codename is Generator, I’m a devisor, and I have regeneration, and my sister is sort of a ghost.”, She looked Lucy, “I couldn’t help but notice your Rainbow Brite shirt. You like Rainbow Brite?”, she asked excitedly.

“I..it’s okay, I guess. I… I sort of go through clothes really fast. This was all I had to wear.” Lucy stammered, “I… I’m called Host. I’m just an exemplar with high regeneration. I have a brother, but he’s kind of a big pain.”

“My friends and I are in a group called Wondercute! You should join us, we defend the power of cuteness, and we watch anime and talk about cute things and beat up on the poopyheads here that pick on people because they are the enemies of cute!” Jade just babbled on.

Lucy looked around, hoping someone would save her from this midget motormouth. There was nobody around that looked willing to save her. Just about then she felt a couple of drops of blood trickle from her nose.

Jade looked at the girl in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly there was a squelching sound and a loud pop. Jade looked in horror as the girl in front of her literally exploded, covering Jade in blood and entrails and organ meat.

A loud scream carried through the largely empty hall as Jade and Wondercute fled in pure, unadulterated terror.

A small worm-like creature sat on the table, taking in the surroundings.

“At… at … least that … got … her … to stop… “, A small smile crossed Lucy’s lips before she passed out.

High-Priestess of the Order of Spirit-Chan

Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Rose Bunny.
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3 years 3 months ago #43336 by Kaitha39
Kaitha39 replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Doyle room 218
Friday 24th November

"So...Mrs. Hair Lady tells me you broke your... oh HEY! HIYA MISTAH COSPLAY!"

The little girl, dressed in a Disney(tm) Belle dress, yellow tights and gloves, with an actual rose tucked into her hair, threw open the door as fast as she could, and ran to jump up at the boy who was sitting on top of the bed. The boy had, at one point, been wearing a rather tight muscled t-shirt that seemed to be designed to pick out and highlight his toned body, some denim jeans, and some actual army issue combat boots.

At one point anyway. Before the point in time where he had decided to pick on the underdogs without noticing the unassuming form of a ginger headed, freckled young boy standing in the middle of the pack while they haggled the cost of Fixx upgrading Chimera's Kilt. Centurion had just noticed the foursome standing without a care in the world, smirked at Legbreaker and Anvil, sauntered over and pushed the devisor/gadgeteer to the ground, knocking over the (currently) female Yang as he fell.

It had taken Jimmy T all of three seconds to turn into an eight foot tall Godzilla facsimile and rip the shirt to pieces as a sharp claw pulled Centurion's arm out of its socket, ripping a severe gash as he tore through the boy's flesh before he could even power up.

"So tell me Mr. Cosplay, who did you try to beat up today?" Ceildih cried as she jumped on the bed and cooed over his shoulder, which had been hastily bandaged by the Doyle staff. She yanked and pushed the boy's torso too and fro, as she seemingly tried to get a better angle to look at him from.

"Siofra, you're not allowed to ask people that. And stop moving him goddamnit." Dave, the male nurse said from the doorway. "You're not meant to make people hurt more. It's part of the Hippocratic oath. Just heal him already." His admonishment was met with an overdramatic pout and a full-body sigh, with the kind of annoyed exultation of "okaaaaaay" that only an eight-year-old girl can manage. As she raised her hand and shot Centurion with a beam of light, he gave her as deathly a glare as he could, though he said nothing.

It became harder and harder to keep it up though, as underneath his bandages his flesh knit back together. He tried to keep it up even as he breathed out with his relief, and managed to at least keep scowling at her as she finished, jumped down from the bed, and yelled, almost as loud as she could at him. "Oh, you have to tell me at dinner what happened! I just gotta know how you got hurt Mr. Cosplay! I mean, I gotta find out who the actually really scary people are on campus. You know, I mean, anyone who can beat up such an awesome warrior as you, has got to be a great fighter!"

Throughout it all, Centurion said nothing, but scowled even harder as the girl turned, gave Dave enough of a real salute for it to be debatable whether she was trying to be mocking, and then became covered in blue hands that picked up by her wrists, ankles, knees, armpits, waist, and hips, and carried her out of the room. Slowly. Almost so slowly there was little point in doing it instead of just walking out.

"Do I need to ask what the hell was that about?" The confused nurse asked as he began checking the charts, doing his due diligence in defeating the bane of all workers everywhere: Paperwork.

He almost didn't get an answer, until in a very, very quiet voice and somewhat mulishly, Centurion spoke: "I was responsible for why she got her armband, and now she's trying to be a little bitch about it in the most annoying way possible."

Any stories or Characters I put out are available to write around. Feel free to borrow them!
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3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #43342 by Domoviye
Domoviye replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Los Angeles, California
January 18, 1994 (One day after the Northridge Earthquake)

"Bendis, get your platoon down to California State Univerisity, North Ridge, now. A mutant is causing problems at the emergency food depot and the police are asking for back up. Over," MCO supervisor Rictor said into the radio. He would have liked to go himself, but he was busy using the new MCO power armour for search and rescue. Even in the relatively cool January weather, with the AC at max, he was drenched in sweat and breathing in dust that made its way through the intake system, as he helped hold a pillar in place while rescuers dug a woman out of the debris.

By all rights he should be back in the emergency MCO headquarters, but with all the damage to the city the higher ups had everyone running around doing what they could to help out. And with the communication suite in his command armour, Rictor could direct everyone from anywhere in the city as long as the MCO blimps stayed in the air.

"This is Bendis," the radio crackled. "Getting weird signals and interference, please rep-" the static filled message was cut off by an agonizing scream and died abruptly.

"Bendis, report!" Rictor shouted into the mic. Tapping a button he opened up the frequency to the rest of Bendis' platoon. His demand for information was cut off by the sound of metal being ripped apart, screams and the shrieking of birds.

Frantically he looked at his monitor trying to see who was close enough and equipped to help his platoon.

"BOSS! On our six!" his wingman shouted.

Unable to drop the pillar without killing the woman and her rescuers, Rictor switched to the video camera in the back of the suit. A hundred metallic birds flew in the sky, their claws, wings and beaks gleamed razor sharp. In the center of the flock stood a blue knight in full armour, steam rose from the joints and it held a sword that glowed a horrific red.

Rictor dropped the pillar ignoring the screams that abruptly cut off and bolted for cover. Keying his radio he was met by screams and pleas for backup.

The knight, who was only known by the slaughtered MCO units he left in his wake, ignored the bullets that flashed against his forcefield. Raising an arm he pointed at the five armoured MCO agents and his birds attacked, cutting them open with lasers, claws and wings. Rictor tried to help, firing grenades and explosive rounds into the mass and at the knight, but it wasn't enough. The birds ignored their losses, while the knight casually walked towards him almost daintily stepping over the butchered bodies of the MCO and anyone foolish enough to fight back.

Knocking the gun away, the knight picked Rictor up by his neck. All that he could do was pound at the arm which was as effective as spitting in the ocean.

"You people hurt and murder children," the knight said in a booming voice. "Face your judgement, murderer."

Rictor howled as the sword cut through the best armour the MCO could create, piercing him through the stomach.

As the birds watched ensuring no rescue would come, Rictor saw his murderer fly into the sky.

His dying screams joined those of his fellow agents on the radio.
Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Domoviye.
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3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #43551 by Domoviye
Domoviye replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
(I've watched videos trying to prove each of these ridiculous ideas for the last week at work while folding laundry, my brain kept turning them around into a story. Enjoy.)

April, 2008

The four students wearing identical black and white uniforms sat at a table eating their lunch, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads in disgust as a fifth member of their merry little band excitedly talked with a well dressed man who was just as excitedly showing her a tablet and pointing at different things. Their supervisor, a well dressed blonde woman was trying not to laugh as the conversation went on.

"You see, Teri," the man said, "the Washington monument really is a sign of the conspiracy. It's an obelisk, those were used by the Egyptians and the ancient Syrians to celebrate their gods, and the Nephelim king Nimrod. This is a sign used by those in charge to show who is really in control, and as part of their ritual design of the city of Washington. And you know how we know this?"

"How?" Teri asked, grinning as the secrets of the world were imparted to her.

"It's masonry."

Her forehead furrowed. "You've lost me."

"Masonry, the Masons. George Washington was a Mason, they're part of the Illuminati. That's why we have all those hidden images on our money," he insisted.

"Oh," she replied the truth dawning.

"And do you know who is really behind the Illuminati?" he asked.

"No. Tell me!"

"The reptilians. After the Nephilim were destroyed in the flood, the Reptilians arrived and at first they started to try to mate with humans, but they couldn't." He pulled a picture of a tiny humanoid mummy with an elongated head up on his tablet. "See, this is proof of it, the Atacama humanoid. See the strange skull, and the tiny size, it's only 6 inches tall, but it was at least 7 or 8 years old when it died. How did it survive so long?"

"I can't believe anything would be that tiny!" Teri said in shock.

"Exactly. The head shape is clearly reptilian in origin. But it didn't work, so the Reptilians had to begin shape changing and turning our leaders against us, creating their debased religions and secret societies. They've only recently managed to manipulate the human genome enough to create mutants."

"But what about the Nephilims? I thought you said they were the creators of society and the first religions?"

"They were," the man insisted. "But they were destroyed in the flood because they were so evil."

"What did they do?"

"I'm glad you asked," he said, pulling up yet more pictures. "They destroyed most of the world, from their city in Atlantis. Here, see this mesa, now look at this tree stump."

Teri looked at the two pictures, one of a giant flat topped and smooth sided mountain, the other of a tree stump that looked remarkably similar. "They look alike!"

"Exactly. Before the flood and the disastrous destruction of the Nephilim, the world had trees dozens even hundreds of miles high, but they were cut down and destroyed. The deserts we see today are the dust and debris left after that deforestation. Even the tallest trees today are nothing but bushes that survived the devastation. And we can see this all over the world, the mountain ranges, groves of trees shattered for god alone knows what. Volcanoes are the toxic waste dumps that are still burning to this day."

"But I thought that volcanoes and mountains were caused by tectonic plates shifting and moving."

"That's what THEY want you to believe. Just like the transhuman cyberneticists want you to believe the Earth is really round."

A dark skinned girl rubbed her head awkwardly. "Teri stop encouraging the crazy man. Next he'll be talking about demons infiltrating society, instead of just killing everything and driving the survivors mad."

"But they are!" he insisted, pulling up yet more pictures of Asian girls wearing horns and shoes that looked like hooves. "Look in Japan how they worship Lucifer and the demons. They're trying to make demons cute to bring in worshippers."

All of the students looked at their supervisor who was now looking more annoyed than happy.

"I believe that that has been quite enough," the woman said. "Is everyone done their lunch?"

Everyone nodded, and Teri got an almost inhumanly large grin. "So we're going now? Can we show my good friend something really fun, Ms. Imp?"

The woman looked around carefully, a mischievous grin coming to her lips. "I think that would be appropriate."

Reaching into her purse the woman did something and the illusion dropped.

The mans grin turned to horror as he saw a tiny fairy flying less than three feet in front of him, two horned demons, one a dark black the other with scales on her cheeks and forehead, a girl that looked to be half cybernetic, a hulking stony girl, and one who looked like a humanoid lizard watching him with varying degrees of disgust and amusement.

"Y-y-y- AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" he screamed turning to flee.

"Well that was fun!" Teri said as the illusion returned.
Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Domoviye.
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3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #43673 by Rose Bunny
Rose Bunny replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Alyss was enjoying the cool fall air. She walked the path from the quad, passing Whitman. In her peripheral vision, she saw something move by a tall maple. It was a girl. Cautiously she walked over.

The girl was crying. When she got close, she saw the reason why. The girl was sobbing and hugging her knees. There was a puddle of dry blood on the ground, and scraps of what looked like various tissue and organ meat. Her shirt was torn to shreds, and she was trying unsuccessfully to tie the bloodied scraps around herself, to cover her bloody chest.

“Excuse me, Are you okay? Pardon my French, but what the fuck happened here?”, Alyss inquired.

The purple haired girl looked up with large teary indigo eyes. “It’s n...not my ffault. My brother… he... I … “ The girl was wracked with sobs and couldn’t continue.

“Um, my name is Alyss, and if your brother hurt you, tell me where he is, and I’ll have a word with him.” Alyss cracked her knuckles.

“L…Lucy. That’s m …my name. And he’s in here.”, She pointed to her chest, which Alyss noticed was rather flat, and had a scar across it that was slowly shrinking.

“My Power is th..that I’m a Regen 7, and when I… was … I’m … a Twin, and my brother lives inside… in my chest. He… he has to come out each… d...day… kinda rips me apart to do it. It hurts, and I’m running out of shirts, and … I can’t affort to get the blood out of all my underwear and pants, and I buy new shirts every day. I… I’m on … a scolarship, b…but the cost of clothing is gonna make me h….have to drop out … if ... if I can’t… “

Lucy whimpered and put her head down.

“That’s seriously fucked up… pardon my French again. I might just be able to help you though.”, Alyss said with a smile. “One of my powers is that I can make things out of fabric that I can manifest. They only last a day, but if you give me your sizes, I can whip up some stuff for you in emergencies.”
Alyss pulled out her phone, and handed it to Lucy, so she could put her number in.

Lucy stood up and went to hug the young girl in front of her, But she stopped, realizing she was covered in blood. Alyss shrugged, and concentrated on making a simple black tee for the girl to wear, until she could get inside. Taking her phone back, Alyss smiled and said goodbye, happy that she could help someone.

High-Priestess of the Order of Spirit-Chan

Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Rose Bunny.
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3 years 3 months ago #43692 by Cryptic
Cryptic replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Sara leaned back in her chair eyeing the young man seated across form her. The Youngling GOO was grateful for her rescue from that circular Limbo she'd been folded into years ago, and she was repaying the rescue by overseeing, of all the clubs, the Goobers. But the Old Man had a point; the last few Goober Grads hadn't lasted long due to their shoddy training under Englund and his successor. She wasn't thrilled with the position, but she had to admit that flipping the bird at a mechanization of a few of her more destructive relatives did feel kind of good.

Tapping her VI interface Sara skimmed over the student file for the young man, and Goodber recruit across from her. “So, Simon, it says here you are an Avatar who is immune to the effect of Class X exposure. May I ask how you came to possess your spirit, and what it might be? And how the hell you learned you where immune to stuff that makes your brains leak out of your ears?”

Simon shrugged. “I found an old journal that my Grandfather had inherited when we where cleaning out the house after Gran passed. It belonged to his mentor, the man that introduced him to Gran, and gave them the money to get married and go to collage. When I opened it, I guess I picked up his spirit somehow. It was either the book or the garden gnome. Or the stuffed parrot...” he trailed off looking thoughtful as he considered what might have let him connect to his spirit. “Maybe the sun glasses or the boots? Not sure why Gran let Grandpa kept those nasty boots...”

Sara nodded slowly as she leaned back in her chair. “You're not the first to pick up a spirit from an artifact. So what makes you feel like you can hack it as a Goober, and you still haven't explained the class x note.”

“Well ma'am, it's kind of tradition for the family. Granpa and Gran did it, my mom, their daughter, did it, and my dad's distantly related to the guy Egon Spangler was based on. Standing up to what wants to fuck over humanity is in my blood. And um... ma'am, The Old Man is a might agitated being around you. May I ask what you are?”

“The Old Man?” Sara asked softly, her skin rippling slightly as she put the pieces together. If she had had a stomach she would have been sick to it at that moment. “Your codename is Henderson, and your spirit is...”

“Yessum, Old man Henderson...”

“... He Who got Hastur High before Banishing It.” Sara finished softly, loosing control of her human form. Instead of being driven mad by her True Class X form, Simon Wifflehaus leaned forward for a closer look.


I am a caffeine heathen; I prefer the waters of the mountain over the juice of the bean. Keep the Dews coming and no one will be hurt.
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3 years 3 months ago #43767 by Katssun
Katssun replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
"That's not fair!" The boy in fatigues exclaimed. "She brought in a whole range bag! I was told only my regular equipment and any holdouts."

The instructor looked at the boy with a flat expression, bordering on annoyance. "Our records show that Beautician has had that equipment registered with campus security for at least a month."

"Yeah, I carry my kit everywhere!"

The boy looked confused. He knew the haircut girl was an underdog, and thought she was in survival. He hadn't heard of her being in any Team Tactics classes, or combat classes of any kind. "Well...make sure she didn't put anything extra in there!" He tried to save face as best he could.

"Do you mind?"

"Nope!" Darcy chirped and unzipped the large olive drab bag with colorful appliqués and patches sewn onto it, revealing an assortment of combs, clippers, aerosol cans, and a disturbingly large collection of nail polish jars.

"Is this acceptable to you?" the instructor asked.

The boy goggled at what the perky girl had brought into the arena. A smug look crept on his face. "Looks fine to me, thanks."

The two teens headed in separate directions and prepared for the match to begin. The freshmen Grunt checked the settings on his railgun while Darcy twirled her hip-length black hair around and around before pinning the mass behind her head with two metal chopsticks each topped with a glittering purple gemstone.


"I bet haircut girl doesn't even get a single hit on our boy!" said another boy in Grunts uniform. The hulking student with GSD next to him agreed with a nod.

"We'll take that bet," said the Hispanic girl in a lab coat in the seats behind them.

"You're on!" The four students launched the betting app on their phones and had the money transferred to the bookie escrow. Nearby, others followed suit with wagers of their own. When the transaction was locked, the dark-skinned girl in Grunts fatigues known as Green Zone started giggling. "There's no way that idiot remembers that my micro braids get redone every three weeks!"


The match began and a milky smoke filled the arena, but a clear view was shown to the spectators. It looked like they were going for a large scale urban raid scenario. Darcy had her bag on her shoulder, and looked for a safe building to enter. Survival had taught her there was no way she'd last out in the open, not with her abilities.

A twisting vortex of disturbed smoke bloomed just above her head, and Darcy heard a loud pop. It was a good thing she had put up her hair with the chopsticks she was given by that junior high French girl. They magically produced a large 'electro...magnetic?' field. 'Static dynamic?' 'Magno-dynamic?' 'Stagno-magnetic?' Either way. The higher the velocity of a metallic projectile, magnetic or otherwise, the further it got deflected from her head. Or something. It was way above Darcy's head, literally and figuratively. It was magic, it mostly worked, it kept her from getting singed hair, the sticks kept her hair up, and they looked pretty. That's all that mattered to her.


He'd missed. How the hell had he missed!? He had a solid bead on her with his quench gun. The sights were calibrated, he checked them once a day for finals. You never knew when you were coming up. He could still see her, center of mass, through the gun's optics.

He knew it. She was cheating! Or she had a PFG. An evil grin appeared. No PFG survived had more than two consecutive shots from the quench gun. He shifted it to burst mode. It would be cooling for three minutes after, but he wouldn't need it after her got her.

He sighted her body through the smoke. At this range, the second shot would be aimed at her head from the recoil of the first. He added a mental note, recoil compensator for the next upgrade on the gun.

He lowered the first shot to her knees, and hoped the arena safety systems held up.


She felt a blast of air between her legs as a deep furrow appeared seemingly out of nowhere a foot in front of her. The shockwave of the shot passing caused her to wobble, and the successive blast was deflected over her head. Darcy heard two quick pops, one after the other. Still, Darcy stumbled, landing on top of her bag before ending up on all fours. The impact caused one of the pins to fall out, and then the mass of her hair splayed out around her like streamers.

Darcy panicked, just a little. She didn't have time to find the lost pins, so she scrambled across the ground into her destination, a mocked up storefront. Darcy ran to the back and into the service hallways, getting time for a quick breather.

Darcy pulled the bag off her shoulder, and unzipped the slender compartment at the base of the bag. She slid out the thing, two plates sandwiching a bundle of electronics she didn't understand and a battery too small for general use. She didn't have time to use the AC adapter. Darcy rezipped her bag, grabbed a few things from the main compartment, and trotted around another corner. She tossed a few of the polish bottles toward the first corner and approached the opposite wall.

She pressed the plate against the wall, then rotated the upper plate counter-clockwise. It clicked, mounting to the wall, then she rotated it back clockwise, activating it. A faint whine emanated from the contraption. Hopefully the battery would last long enough. She jogged down the hallway, looking for an escape.


He barged into the shop, noting that the door to the service corridor was open. There was still two and a half minutes left on the cooldown of the quench gun, so he slung it over his back. He briefly considered drawing his sidearm, but since haircut girl was mostly focused on fleeing the area, he pulled out his Z7 Riot Control Baton instead.

He paused at the door, checking the corners. As he charged down the hallways, he noticed that there were scattered jars of nail polish on the floor. She had definitely come this way. Eager to put an end to this, he blasted around the corner, only to see a squarish object mounted to the wall, before he felt nothing but heat.


The howl of pain was heard right through the arena shielding. The two girls, one in lab coat, one in fatigues, called out simultaneously.

"Called it!"

Green Zone in particular, practically glowed with pride. Her man-portable Active Denial System had a better battery than she thought. She'd given the thing to Darcy as payment and for beta-testing, thinking that she'd use the AC adapter to keep would-be attackers away from her until the police or DPA could arrive. She had never imagined that Darcy might use it in a defensive/offensive manner, but Darcy was nothing if not unique.


The two instructors were busy chewing out her opponent as Darcy looked at the folded paper slip in her hand that revealed 'B-' as her grade.

"You got high marks for switching to non-lethal weaponry as well as aiming in a way that she had a higher chance of survival, but I cannot emphasize enough that you need to check your corners! What if it hadn't been non-lethal? What is it had been an IED or a claymore? You’d be paste! I expect a higher standard from you." The instructor's gaze shifted to Darcy.

"Beautician. We're glad to see that you opted to handicap yourself with non-combat items that you routinely carry and while your use of the tools at your disposal was admirable, once you were cornered, that was the end of it for you. I recommend that you consider taking Basic Martial Arts, at the very least, before you graduate. We will, however, commend you on using the bottles to ensure that you lured your opposition into the trap you placed. On the other hand, you lost your equipment that was clearly instrumental to you lasting through the initial attack." Darcy was handed back the two jeweled chopsticks. "I also recommend that you consider a jumbo hair-clip or scrunchie be added to your bag."

"Yes ma'am," Darcy responded. She noticed that the boy next to her had reddened skin from the plate-thingy that she was given by his own teammate. Darcy fussed through the contents of her bag until she found the bottle of skin cream. As the two walked out of the locker room, she handed the small bottle to her opponent, who took it without a single word.
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3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #43820 by Domoviye
Domoviye replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
"No, that is totally out of the question!"

"But Arnold, he might be able to help Alana."

A fist hit the table. "They caused it. Do you have any idea what this freak might do to our daughter?! Haven't they done enough damage already?"

Alana flipped the switch on her sound dampener, not wanting to hear the ongoing argument of her parent. A curse escaped her lips as she reached for a tissue to wipe up the blood that leaked out of her cracked, scarred, skin. The tissue was followed by special skin cream, specially made for burns. Moving more slowly, trying not stretch her skin anymore than she had to, she rubbed the cream in gentle strokes sighing as her dry skin cooled and became a little more supple. Her phone buzzed, letting her know it was time to take her pain medication again. She ignored it, the medicine numbed her mind, she could gut the pain until it was time for bed.

The cream treatment done, she picked up her tools again and set to work on her project. Her parents thought she was working on model robots, she had gotten specially made boxes implying just that, but the work was all hers.

With the screwdriver held in her thumb and forefinger, the only fingers still usable on her right hand, she tightened a screw on the audio devise that was in the base of the devise. Once satisfied it was holding the wire in place, she sealed it up and took a deep breath it was the moment of truth, seven months of agonizing labour to reach this point. Awkwardly she put the glove like devise on her right hand. Clamps pressed against her skin, holding it tight as the velvet like fabric went all the way up to her elbow. She had to adjust it a little so the sockets fit into the nubs of her fingers.

Once it was in place she switched it on the audio devise, twitching her muscles a single clear note hummed causing the sonic attuned metal to shift along the physics that she had created. The long silvery fingers of her new hand clenched into a fist before spasming into a a flurry of manic activity. Alana relaxed her arm and slowly the movement stopped. Carefully she thought about moving her fingers like she had before being burned. The fingers moved tentatively, twitching and jerking around, but they weren't completely out of control.

Hours later, dripping with sweat, her arm stiff and cramped, Alana wrote her name in small neat letters.

Tears fell down her cheek as she planned her next move. With two fully working hands she could do the more intricate work that her body required. Pushing her wheelchair away from the desk, she stared at the remains of her legs, already imagining them covered in the silvery metal, letting her walk, run and dance once more. She didn't care what her parents might say, she was going to be whole once more.
Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Domoviye.
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3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #43934 by Rose Bunny
Rose Bunny replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Lucy sat at her usual table on the lower floor of the Crystal Hall cafeteria, she was getting used to the solitude, at times she really didn’t mind it. She picked at her ham sandwich and was poking around at the chips, when she noticed a girl looking around uncertainly.

The girl was certainly a fellow freshman, and had that new look to them. She was holding a tray, and uncertain where she should sit. She saw Lucy looking in her direction and took that as an invitation to come sit down. Lucy nodded to the girl and gestured for her to take a seat.

“Hi, I’m kinda new here, I don’t really know anyone. Is it okay if I sit here? I saw you are alone, and thought it’d be nice to have company. My name is Trisha. What’s yours?”

Lucy looked at the girl, She wasn’t an exemplar, but she was cute, in her own way, She was maybe a couple inches taller than Lucy, and kind of thick, in that healthy but slightly overweight way. Her mopish brown hair fell down over her brown eyes.

“So, are you new here too?”, Trish asked in a bubbly excited way.

Lucy looked at her. “Y… yes, I’m new here t…too. My n… name is Lucy.”

Trish giggled with glee at making a new friend. “So, what do you do? I mean, what sort of powers do you have?”

Lucy squirmed uncomfortably. “I… I’m an Exemplar 3, and I have Regen 7. … Most people know me here for something else though… it’s kind of embarrassing…”

Trisha leaned in. “Ooh? It can’t be that bad…”

Lucy bit her lip. “ I sort … well, when I was… in the womb, I… I sort of absorbed my little brother… and now we… well, we are both mutants, and he occasionally… well… you ever see alien?”

Trish nodded confused.

“Remember the chest-bursting scene?”

“Yeah?… oh… OOH!… yikes.”

“Yeah”, said Lucy as she looked down. “My code name is Host, because of that.”

Trish gulped. “I don’t have my MID yet, I think I’m going to choose Backslide as my codename, because I’m a warper. I can push everything in a 50 yard radius away from me.”

Lucy looked up. “That sounds cool. oh, lunch is nearly over. I should get ready for class.”

Trish looked at her watch. “Yeah, I should get back to the testing, it was nice to meet you!”

Lucy watched as Trish got up and turned away. Her new friend walked away, with a slight wiggle that in the tight outfit she was wearing, clearly showed off a behind that would put to shame J-Lo and any number of Kardashian sisters.

“Hm… Maybe she should rethink using ‘Backslide’… “, Lucy pondered.

High-Priestess of the Order of Spirit-Chan

Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Rose Bunny.
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3 years 3 months ago - 3 years 3 months ago #44252 by Katssun
Katssun replied the topic: The Micro-Scenes thread
Dickinson Cottage, Late-October 2016, morning

Darcy was running her fingers through her absurdly long hair and occasionally removed a tangle with a wide tooth comb, like she did every morning as Viola Hartigan put on her makeup on the other side of the room. The only saving grace was Darcy actually knew how to take care of it. Viola probably would have begged to get moved if Darcy was one of those girls that just had like, gross, super-long hair. Ick. Darcy was humming to herself again.

God, she hated her.

Things had been so much nicer at the beginning of the year, when Darcy had been quiet, passive, and depressed. Viola got a lot of studying for her mystic arts classes done when Darcy spent most of her time moping on the benches in the quad or silently watching movies in the common room off to the side by herself, or just lying there on her own bed. It was basically like having a single. It was awesome.

She had even considered letting Darcy hang out with her, eventually. Darcy wasn't an exemplar like she was, and she had made it a point even before she manifested to keep a slightly dumpier girl around her for comparison. It's why she stayed friendly with some of the Whitman girls. Darcy would have been a good addition to her growing pool at Whateley. Why stay a 10, when you can look like an 11 or a 12 because of the person next to you?

At least, everything had been great until that day in September.

Darcy had come back from the quad...happy. And she'd been annoying as hell ever since. She couldn't stand it. True, Darcy was in the room even less than before, but it didn't seem right to her. Darcy was popular somehow, even when she was so useless. There were still ways Viola could enjoy herself. She still swore way more than normal around Darcy, especially while she did her homework when Darcy was in the room. It was funny watching Darcy start blushing, just from some unnecessary colorful language. What a little girl!

Someone knocked in the door. Viola rolled her eyes and pushed down the scowl she so deeply wanted to show. Same time every morning.

"I'll get it!" Darcy chittered. Of course you will. Idiot. It's the same time every day. Sure enough, Darcy's sophomore friends 'Cambion' and Fran poked their heads in the door.

"Breakfast, Dee?" asked Fran. "Wanna join us, Viola?" Viola looked at them through her mirror, and noticed the giantess' slight frown of disapproval toward her roommate. Good, at least the gadget-skank and she were on the same page.

"No thanks, I'll meet up with some of the Whitman girls like I usually do," she answered, carefully filling in the space between her two eyeliner swooshes, forming a perfect cat's eye.

"Bye Vee! See you after classes!" Darcy chittered as she put on her Burberry jacket and left for breakfast with that towering amazon of a gadgeteer friend of hers and her roommate. The door clicked shut behind them.

What. The. Fuck!

The two sophomores had taken Darcy to Boston over the weekend and she came back with that jacket. Viola wanted to steal it and mail it home, but she was certain that bitch 'Cambion' would notice it missing. Even Darcy might notice. It wasn't goddamn fair! Ever since mid-September, Darcy had gotten detention no less than thirty times. Thirty! Yet somehow, somehow, administration had approved a trip for her, Fran, and that bitch Cabochon to spend the weekend in Boston.

She finished her other eye and admired her handiwork. Perfect. Darcy had her hair, Viola had her makeup.

Now to complete the rest of her morning routine. She padded over to Darcy's side of the room, and rummaged around in the box of "thingamabobs" that Darcy kept under her bed. All stuff from the lab girls, and even a few of the boys. Viola dug toward the bottom of the box, and grabbed two of them. She'd pass them to her boyfriend Andrew during English, and he'd check to see if they were gadgets or devices.

It was a pity that Andrew hadn't turned out to be one of THOSE Vanderbilts, but he still made her feel good when they made out in a nook near his lab space in the tunnels. And of course he had his uses. The gadgets he'd take a look at, take some notes, and then return them to her to toss back in the box.

The devices? They had expiration dates, naturally, so she sent them off campus and they were "magically" converted into Viola's growing college fund. Darcy had no clue what she had, and Viola was pretty sure that Darcy didn't even care what was in the box. It worked as a system, but there was still one problem.

Darcy's bag.

Darcy's little "range bag," full of her hair and nail supplies, was actually heavily warded. The other thing of Darcy's with any magic to it in their room was Darcy's microfurnace. She dumped sealed bags of hair into and vented out their window. Even if Darcy took all the right precautions from a mage's perspective, Viola would never let that bimbo touch her hair. But that fucking bag!

Viola didn't know who the fuck did it, she wasn't sure that Darcy even knew, but the only person who could open the zippers on Darcy's bag, was fucking Darcy. And that was the big problem.

Viola wanted the hair chopsticks that Darcy got a week ago. They were in the bag.

Some little French junior high girl down the hall had given Darcy those. God knows what the hell for. Darcy had put them on once or twice since she got them, and Viola felt the significant working that had been applied to them. She'd asked around, and one of the upper classmen said that her friend swore that the French girl had gotten help on crafting them from Miss Reilly. Sister of a friend of a friend sort of thing. She couldn't believe it! THE Miss Reilly, helping out a little exchange student, for a gift to that vapid whore Darcy!

But Viola was patient, and Darcy was a moron. Eventually she'd leave them out. Then they were all hers.
Last Edit: 3 years 3 months ago by Katssun. Reason: whoops, can't spell!
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