A Second Generation Whateley Academy Adventure

A Goldfish in the Ocean

by

Malagua

Wednesday, September 21, 2016 - 6:10 am
Twain Cottage, Whateley Academy

The morning arrived with the first rays of sunlight that seemed to pierce through the horizon. For some people, it was a bother, like the day persistently telling them to wake up and get out of bed. Vic used to be like that, no more than a year past, now no matter his brain’s pleas for him to stay in la la land, he forces himself up by any means necessary.

A lot have changed, but that was the one that faced him at the start of every day.

Keeping up with his personal promise of self improvement didn’t seem to grow easier with every passing morning. Staying in bed and giving up to a good sleep always seemed appealing, even more so now that he slept on an actual mattress, but he knew that if he compromised on that, he would eventually stop at all.

A Whateley Academy Tale

You Don't Know Jak

by

E.E. Nalley

Part One

Yesterday and days before
Sun is cold and rain is hard
I know been that way for all my time
'Til forever, on it goes
Through the circle, fast and slow,
I know it can't stop, I wonder...
Creedence Clearwater Revival, Have You Ever Seen the Rain?

A Whateley Academy Tale

The Pillars of Foundation

by

E.E. Nalley

Medicine rests upon four pillars:
philosophy, astronomy, alchemy, and ethics.
—Paracelsus

November 9th, 2007
The Office of Milton Anderson, M.D., 2160 Center St, Boston, MA

The man on the screen didn't look like a super villain.

He was actually quite dapper, in a conservative silk suit of European cut and dark color, over a simple white shirt and his one concession to fashion a remarkably colorful tie of abstract polygons with a matching kerchief in his breast pocket. Neither did he look like the persona he frequently affected, the Mad Herr Doktor in a nineteen thirties white, off set breasted lab coat and high rubber gloves. But for the 'devil's horn' forelocks in his hair, he could have been a senior partner in a well established law firm. He sat at a magnificent desk, his hands clasped before him on it, speaking directly into the camera with remarkable sincerity and compassion. “Mr. and Mrs Dawson, now that your family doctor has had the technical briefing he needs, I would like to take a moment to have a word with the two of you. I am afraid I am unaware of the...progress...Alzheimer's has had on your wife, Mr. Dawson, so you may need to explain things to her, or make the decision yourself.”

A Whateley Academy Tale

Shenanigans Too

By Morpheus 

Part 1

Crystal Hall, Sunday late afternoon, Nov 25th, 2007

Amy stared down at her tray of dinner, feeling less than impressed. After being home for Thanksgiving and eating some of the food that Mrs. Lawrence had sent over, she was not thrilled about returning to cafeteria food, even if that cafeteria happened to be Crystal Hall.

“At least there’s always the kitchen in Hawthorne,” she reminded herself, making a note to check what ingredients were currently stocked up. With the way that supplies kept mysteriously appearing in her kitchen, she was often surprised at what she found there. “Who gives caviar to high school students?”

A Whateley Academy Tale

The Porcelain Mask

by

Morpheus

Whateley Academy, Tuesday early morning, Nov 27th, 2007

It was the latest hour of the night or the earliest of the morning, in the indistinct time when two days met and blurred into one another. Most of the Whateley campus was covered in darkness, though small pools of light existed near many of the buildings and paths. The moon was a thin crescent in the sky and what meager light it provided was obscured by the clouds.

A dark figure that was entirely black as tar moved across the school campus, slipping through the shadow with ease and avoiding the pools of light. When the figure reached the walls of Melville Cottage, it didn’t hesitate before it began climbing up the old brick wall as easily as if it had been a spider. It was only when the figure reached a specific window that it paused.

Long black tendrils began to grow from the figure’s body with the thinnest of them slipping through a small crack in the window frame and then unlocking the window from the inside. Once the window was open, the figure made no move to enter directly, reaching in with the black tendrils instead.