Whateley Independent Fiction
Whateley Independent Fiction (WhatIF)
Chronicles of Fred, Part 1
Meet the Fredsons
Chapter 1: Emergence
October 18th, 2007
It’s a Thursday evening like any other in the small town of Vinita, Oklahoma. Fred is standing in line at the Walmart buying milk so he can cook some off-brand mac ‘n cheese for his two kids. Used to be Wilma would cook, and boy did she cook, but she’s been dead for more than eight years now. The kids aren’t suffering from malnutrition yet, so Fred figures he’s doing something right.
It's a Matter of Death and Life
by Camospam, editing by Wendy K,
Cameron opened his eyes and took in the early morning light, the suns first rays streamed through tall windows basking the room in brilliant colours. Outside the windows stood trees whose trunks framed a rugged mountain with snow dappled slopes leading to a sharp peak. Still with his head resting on the pillow he saw a white dress haphazardly strewn across a chair while another chair had a red uniform neatly folded upon it. A lithe arm was draped over his ribs with its hand intertwined with his own, the ring on the dainty finger caught the sunbeams the reflected light twinkled like stars on the ceiling.
He felt himself being pulled into a gentle squeeze and the delightful press of lips on his neck: “Good morning love” was whispered into his ear like a caress.
“Good morning Mrs. Burke” he whispered in response while pressing the intertwined hands against his heart.
It's a Matter of Death and Life
Tuesday, September 25, 2007. Whateley Academy: Schuster Hall
Elizabeth Carson’s face almost touched the muzzle opposing her, she felt the hot breath being exhaled in bursts as it washed over her nose, her vision was blocked by the nearness of the snout prominent on a wide furred face; the blackest black nose indented by flared nostrils met bristle ends of short fur running up the bears face. The beasts eyes where big and menacing, Mrs. Carson was checking those dark pits in hopes of seeing something of the girl: Elaine. Some indicator of the intelligence, compassion, any hint of the humanity that the teacher had come to love about the student. She found nothing; and that thought scared her most.
It's a Matter of Death and Life
Sequel to "A Matter of Fact"
Friday: September 24, 2007; Whateley Academy: The Quad
A rising sun is normally an indicator of mornings arrival, unless you’re talking about teenagers; who honestly are completely oblivious. In fact most parents believe that an alarm clock needs to have the most obnoxious noise imaginable set at maximum volume to even begin to be effective at wakening a sleeping teen, that or any Brass Monkey tune will suffice.
However, the insistent tapping of a truncheon against Cameron’s foot did manage to get the boy’s attention, the act of raising his eyebrows dragged open a single eyelid which revealed a uniformed man standing above him.
Dirty Business Done Cheap
A WhatIf story by Crazy Minh
I smiled as I walked into my cottage, Biskit riding on my shoulder. It had been several weeks since the library incident, and things were going really, really well. I had just made a business transaction, destroyed a potential terror threat, and managed to get filthy rich all in the space of a single day. In retrospect, the detention I had just received from Carson was kinda a damper on my good mood. But, there was a story to all of the above things…
Enter the Shadows
By Crazy Minh
My friends gave their assent as we sat round the table in my underground lab. As part of Devisor Workshop, I had been assigned a personal lab in the tunnels to work on projects in. Seeing such a space available, I had installed a Replicator cabinet from the Star Trek universe, a workbench with plasma cutter assembly and a toolchest, a large free-standing console, a couch and TV and a large, round table at which me and my friends were currently sitting at. On the table were five bags of polyhedral die, four core rulebooks for Shadowrun: Fifth Edition, three plastic cups, two bottles of Sprite, a pile of Pizza boxes from a pizzeria in Boston, four trays of Tim-Tams, a folding screen, and a assorted collection of character sheets, paper, rule supplements and pens. In essence, all we needed for a late-night session of tabletop gaming.
Code Whateley: Jayden of the Rebellion
By Crazy Minh
In anticipation for Code Geass: Lelouch of the Resurrection (coming April 2018)
Hi. My name is Jayden Reynolds, and I’m a mutant. I suppose you already knew that, seeing as you had the guts to poke your nose into my private vlogs, but meh, not as if I have much to say that would be interesting to a big-nosed drekbag like yourself.
On that note, you have around 55 second to leave the room now before my computer immobilises your arse and calls security. Failing that, you have a additional two seconds to have your life flash before your eyes before you are unceremoniously shot by me, as I enter the room you are in, and shoot you in the face.
However, if you are me (or a alternate version of myself with the same admin password, DNA, voiceprint, BMI, biosignature, thought patterns and appearance) then Congrats!!! You earn a cookie. <Nom>. Ahh... that was a nice cookie.
Anyway, this is my first person account of the events pertaining to, and leading up to my training team’s first official sim match. Listen carefully children…listen.
Author’s note: Sorry about the wait for this chapter; been busy with other things over the Christmas holiday. Also, ignore the ‘call to arms’ from the previous chapter: got my knuckles rapped by the mods about that. Sorry guys!!! Anyways, enjoy part 4/4 of WoW!!!
Whateley of Warcraft Part 4 of 4
By Crazy Minh
When I got back to my bedroom that evening for the clan meeting, I managed not to smile to hard when I found Biskit trying to hack my computer. He had his paw hovering above the keyboard, and a cluster of black wires branching down into the gaps between the keys. He didn’t see, or hear me come in, and I watched for a bit as he struggled to hack the complex encryption of my Laptop.
“Biskit…what are you doing???”
He jumped, inadvertently opening my email as he did, and quickly retracted the wires that were connecting him to my computer.
“I’m very sorry,” said the small robot, looking down in what I assumed to be his apologetic expression. Even though he was programmed with dog expressions to make it easier to understand what he was expressing, he obviously had done some recoding. I prayed to whatever gods may or may not exist in this dimension that I hadn’t inadvertently created Skynet or the beginnings of a Borg Collective. Robots reprogramming themselves is not usually a good thing in any circumstance.
Light's Promise (Part 6)
Chapter 21 - Aleppo
Fred hit a ramp that veered off to the right and the helicopter swung around to be seen clearly from the passenger window.
“Hey, the chopper is the other way!” I said more shrilly than intended.
Derek snorted. “Fourteen kilometers of proper highway versus eleven through the Old Quarter and possible crowds? Chill. Fred knows what he’s doing.”
Light's Promise (Part 5)
Chapter 17 - Song
It wasn’t working.
Trying to infuse the book with more energy just caused the pages to flake more quickly and fall away. The hills surrounding the lake rumbled and cracked, colorless fractal lines spreading outward.
Light's Promise (Part 4)
Chapter 13 - Beacon
Tsáyidiel knelt upon the stone with two sets of dark wings covering an otherwise bare and human back. The air was warm, and the bright sunless sky stretched above with fluffy clouds hinting at towers and walls. The grass tickling bare toes was the first indication that my attire had changed.
One look and it was decided that if the subconscious had chosen this outfit, me and her were going to have a chat. At length.
Light's Promise (Part 3)
Chapter 8 - Memories
Once the stomach agreed to at least a temporary truce, I’d gone back to the hospital to sit with Danielle. Now that I knew her spirit wasn’t there all I could sense was the hollow absence. Her body lay in the bed, heart pumping and lungs moving, but it was empty like a still life painting where the fruit bowl’s contents had been cruelly ripped from the canvas. What was left was only a blank outline of where Danielle’s spirit should have been.
It was wrong. So very wrong.
Light's Promise (Part 2)
Chapter 4 - Price
“Jordan, perhaps you can elucidate to the class how the emergence of powered individuals has disturbed the foundation and premise of the law and structure of the United States?”
Rabbi Kirov was picking on me again. When I had picked up my schedule I’d discovered he had wedged his own class onto the list: The Ethics of Super-powered Beings. Now we were at the end of the second week and he already had established to everyone that I was some sort of teacher’s pet. He kept selecting me non-stop to answer questions or to reiterate the passages in the assigned reading texts. It had gotten out of hand, and I was so going to yell at him at our private magic practice session come Monday.
Light's Promise (Part 1)
Chapter 1 - Brotherhood
A cool breeze hinted at Autumn’s approach being only weeks away, although the direct sun had yet to relinquish its warm grip on Summer. The campus had been busy with the rush of vans and cars signaling the arrival of students both new and returning in a frenetic dance of luggage, computers, personal accessories, and even a few fancy stereo systems. By now almost all had moved into their respective cottages and gone through the required orientations for the upcoming school year. I say ‘almost’ because we were missing one very important student.
My niece, Danielle, had yet to arrive.
Xanadu 1: Challenges and Changes
They stared at themself in the mirror, turning their head this way and that, looking at their body critically. Still smooth. Still undefined. Muscular, but that was a side effect of their hobbies and not the invasion of adulthood. Face still soft, hair a little longer than they liked on some days but androgynous. They swallowed as their imagination overlaid gender, driving them into a box, making this simple ease of just being impossible. For the last two years, since they’d turned nine, since the community center Sex Ed classes, they’d been growing increasingly anxious. Someday, someday soon, their body was going to start changing, and there was nothing they could do about it.
Shivering, they turned away and swiftly pulled on shorts and a sport shirt, foregoing the ugly little bra that Mom made them wear by the simple logic that under a tight sport shirt, and given that they were still flat as a board, it would go unnoticed. They slipped into their climbing shoes, threw a towel, water bottle, and their gear into their backpack, and ran down stairs.
“Bella, are you-” Mom yelled out just as they came into the living room. “There you are. Ready to go, sweetie?”
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