Running With A Devil (Part One)

by null0trooper

"How much trouble are you trying to get us in this time?"

"How much trouble you got?"

Meetings By Pale Moonlight

by null0trooper

Not everyone looks their part. Some don't even look for their part; it just comes for them.

Thursday evening, January 10, 2008,
The Nations Encampment, Whateley Academy

"How did I let myself get roped into this?" Mads 'Metro' Møller-Jensen asked himself as he trudged through snow in the early darkness of the New England winter.

Oh, right. Having the head of the Whateley Academy Mystic Arts department just happen to be where she could overhear his discussion with Ben Donner the other night left few excuses to be a no-show. Considering that it was her class that he'd have to be excused from to attend, an acute case of death might even be insufficient. It wasn't a matter of Mads having anything against the school's Native American cultural club; far from it. Maybe it was last night's replay of the loss of Vinland that kept him spooked? He hadn't had that set of nightmares for a couple of years now.

The longhouse fit in with the wooded setting, but the hide-covered tipis had been meant for a nomadic Plains way of life. Mads winced at the wiigiwaam covered in hides instead of wiigwaas and lake grass. Or was this meant to be a mide-wiigiwaam, but the builders ran out of birch bark? No. It was easier to come by here than, for example, in Manitoba. Nevertheless, the outer door flap was open, the fires were going inside, and having run out of every delay and distraction he could think of, he entered the longhouse.

A Whateley Academy 2nd Generation Tale

Keeping Cool

by

Wasamon

Part Two

----Wednesday, July 6th, 2016

--- Grammy

The clock struck ten in the evening, and she had the house to herself, as far as consciousness went. Young Patrick had gone down hard, once the adrenaline of the day wore off. She'd heard tell once that nervous energy burned more calories than anything else, and while she doubted it was true, the child was skinny as a stick with no sign of changing. Even the copious lunch Grammy had treated him and Lara to after mass didn't leave an ounce on him.

A Whateley Academy 2nd Generation Tale

Keeping Cool

by

Wasamon

Part One

--- Sunday, July 3rd, 2016

Rockets raced glaring red trails as they ripped across the dusky sky, and distant booms sounded a few seconds after the full light and power of the bursting bombs became apparent. It was the light show to end all light shows in the skies of St. Louis that afternoon, and it was a pity the villain known as the Malypense had no concerns for the festive calendar of the United States, because this performance left the pyrotechnics of that day and the next looking decidedly inferior.

A Whateley Academy 2nd Generation Tale

The Quantum Suicides

by

Wasamon

Part Two

----Monday, July 4th, 2016

--- Marcus

Whew, what a day. This Fourth of July had been light on the explosions, but oh man, what fireworks! Once the buzz over his adopted broth... er, Ches's big exit from his incubator had subsided, Dr. Dork had made Ches repeat that sneeze cannon trick over and over in the testing lab, until nothing more than sparks erupted from that arched nose. He'd helped out with the scanning equipment, which was the coolest part, and technically it'd been him who found the extra lump behind Ches's nasal arch. Dr. Dork said that it must be what allowed Ches to stock up electricity in there, but Myra said it just made him -- her -- look like a Bajoran, and then the whole thing turned into a "What Marcus needs to watch next" conversation for a while. Deep Space Nine sounded cool.

It was pretty late now. Myra'd ordered him to take a nap in the afternoon, and now he was glad she'd done that. There was no way he wanted to miss this! And the ice cream was good, too. He was trying that purple sweet potato stuff now, and it was alright, but he liked the salted caramel better. Ches was sitting nearby, finishing up his -- her! -- fourth bowl, though.