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Scribble Sunday – “Static”

Continuation of last week.


The machines were talking to me again. Hooked up to them, I couldn’t get away. Instead, I curled into a ball on the hospital table and closed my eyes tightly, imagining my normal life from before the fire. I was alone in the room, but the doors were not as thick as the staff thought.

“…the trauma awakened some mutation in her genome,” some doctor was telling the Fosters outside of the exam room. “I have a theory that many genomes have the ability to be mutated, granting people with extraordinary talents, such as Ms. Parker’s ability to hear electronics.”

“How did the trauma of a fire mutate her?” Mr. Foster asked.

“The fire was started from the lightning storm that night,” the doctor said. “Perhaps the electricity is what links Ms. Parker to the electronics, not the fire.”

“How can we help her?” Mrs. Foster asked.

“I don’t believe there is a cure,” the doctor said. “It’s quite a scientific breakthrough, actually. Imagine others with the ability to communicate with electronics. We could send robots to join the army with soldiers controlling them from a safe point–”

“We’re talking about a young girl, not a robot,” Mrs. Foster interrupted. “She just lost her parents–”

“Yes, yes, I apologize.” The doctor’s tone didn’t sound that sorry. “You may be doing all you can to help her now. Giving her a roof over her head, people she can rely on…”

But they’re not my family.

“…However, we would like you to continue bringing her here for testing,” the doctor continued. “We’ll do our best to find a way to alleviate these… uncomfortable sensations that she’s going through, perhaps learn more about it.”

“What about school?” Mr. Foster asked. “We’re still giving her some time off, but eventually she will have to go back. Will she be safe enough to continue at the high school?”

“That is to be determined, unfortunately,” the doctor said. “She’ll have to practice shutting out the electronics in order to function properly.”

Never thought I would want to go back to school, but if it meant getting rid of this damned mutation, then I’d do anything.

“Any suggestions on how she should practice?” Mrs. Foster asked.

The doctor paused before saying, “Just try to ignore them? Meditate? I’m sorry, but this is new to us as well.”

Thanks for nothing, Doc.

The door swung open again and I looked up at Mrs. Foster’s smiling face. I sat up without a word and let her pat my shoulder, resting her hand there while guiding me out of the hospital. My head was low, avoiding the other patrons of the place as we left.

Willow greeted me with homework once we returned to their house.

“I told the teachers you really weren’t up for it,” she said, “but they insisted that I bring this to you so you won’t fall too far behind. Mrs. Davis was pretty nice about it, actually, she said if you could just skim over this stuff, maybe read a bit of A Tale of Two Cities if you’re bored, then that’d be great. If not, don’t worry about it, she’ll get you caught up whenever you get back to school.”

“Thanks,” I said, and abandoned the pile of homework beside my desk and flopped onto my bed.

The mattress dipped down as Willow took a seat. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” I said. I rolled over to look at her. “It’s just… It’s all so weird. At first, being back here, it was like the sleepovers we used to have during middle school. Now, though…” Hot tears prickled at the corner of my eyes. “I’ll never see them again… God, Will, my parents are–!”

My words crumbled with the hiccups and ragged breaths I took while trying to control my crying. Willow moved around the bed, coming closer.

“I’m sorry, Si,” she murmured. “I know that we can’t replace your family… but we’re here for you. You are one of us, okay? We won’t let you go–”

Willow’s hands touched my shoulders and she screamed. I shrieked as static sizzled between my friend and I, and she collapsed off of the bed, electricity dancing in her thick hair.

“What happened—Willow?” Basil was suddenly there, kneeling down by his baby sister. He looked up at me.

“I don’t know!” I had retreated to the very corner of my room, my face soaked with tears. “I don’t know, she tried to put her arm around me, and there was lightning, and I didn’t mean to…!”

My babbling became incoherent as their parents came into the room, and we rushed to the hospital for the second time that day.

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Posted by on June 25, 2017 in Scribbles


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Sunday Scribble – “Ripple Effect Part Five”

Ripple Effect
Part Five

It didn’t take too much longer for Alex to get out of the shower or for dinner to be ready. All throughout dinner Alex spoke of his creation, of the different scenarios one could play through while wearing his V.R. goggles and gloves. Darrien barely spoke a word, but his quirked smile made me guess he was used to dinner being like that.

The plates were hardly off the table before Alex started tugging me toward the basement. I glanced at Darrien, about to ask if he needed help washing the dishes, but he just told us to have fun.

“Watch your step,” Alex said as he bounced down the stairs. Wall lights lit up the concrete steps and I held onto the bare wall while walking down. The landing veered off to the right, where Alex had already disappeared. I turned the corner and walked into a room that was a cross between a study and a junkyard for metal scrap.

A simple desk with a dual-monitor desktop computer was close by, a small rug under it and a shelf filled with programming books and knick-knacks next to it. Across the room was a large workbench surrounded by odd-looking devices. On the overhead shelf was smaller devices. A pen in a display case was the one that caught my eye.

“Here’s my personal Batcave,” Alex said from by the bench.

“It’s brilliant,” I said.

Alex blushed. “Thanks. Come here and put these on.”

He was actually the one to jam the V.R. goggles on my head, and it took me a minute to wrestle the gloves from him. With his excitement, he’d probably end up trying to put them on the wrong hands.

“Okay, take a seat.” Alex gestured to a chair by his workbench and he pulled out a keyboard from one of the bench’s drawers. I took a seat as he tugged up the top of the bench, revealing a hollow compartment and a flat screen monitor. He propped up the screen, turned the monitor on, and set up the some program while I gaped at the touch-screen technology.

While the keyboard and monitor searched for each other via the house’s wireless network, I watched Alex hook up my goggles’ wires to the back of the monitor.

“Where did you get these?” I asked, resisting the urge to touch the monitor’s screen.

“I built them,” he said. Before I could proclaim my disbelief, Alex tapped the side of the goggles. “I just hooked you up to the computer. I’ll be watching your brain waves while controlling the simulation. When you’re ready, just sit back, relax, and close your eyes. Let your thoughts take control.”

I nodded and took a deep breath before lounging back in the chair. For a moment, everything was dark after the goggles slid over my eyes. I was soon enthralled at a soft, pale yellow light steadily growing from the middle of the darkness until it completely enveloped me.

It felt like I was blinking as I gazed at the new room the light had transported me. The walls were the same yellow while golden streams of computer code ran up and down them. I was standing on a flat disk in the middle of it all. Within a few seconds, a small silver ball of light danced in front of my face.

“Good evening.” The masculine tone had a robotic drawl and it bobbed up and down as if bowing to me. “I am called Pip and I will be your guide.”

A trio of screens shot up in front of me out of nowhere, and a podium connected to the disk appeared by my right hand. There was only one button in the top left corner of it with a question mark label.

“I shall now explain the scenario,” Pip said. The screens showed off a city at dusk with tall skyscrapers blocking the setting sun. There was litter on the few streets that were shown, and shady-looking people smoking on street corners.

“The metropolis Goldshaft City,” Pip said, “is in dire need of heroes. Murderers, kidnappers, and robbers run rampant in the streets, and the mayor has issued a plea to any super being willing to aid the city’s police.

“Of course, it is not only the heroes whom have answered the call.” The side screens switched to play clips of citizens running and cowering in fear while powered beings fought each other by shooting lasers from their palms. “Villains also came to the city, looking for easy prey. You have answered the call as well, and have just arrived in Goldshaft.”

The movies on the screens faded away, and words appeared on the middle screen. Pip read the question aloud. “Are you a hero or a villain?”

A silly grin formed on my face as I contemplated being the bad guy, but I decided to play the hero the first time around. I was about to voice my choice when Pip said, “Please push the button of your choice.”

I looked at the podium and blinked at seeing two buttons in the middle of it. I pushed the one labeled “Hero,” and I almost lost my dinner as my hover disk soared straight up in the air.

The disk came to a sudden halt in a light blue room, and I swear I kept going before gravity came into effect. Pip had followed and made a sound as if he was clearing his nonexistent throat.

“Tech is working on that,” he said. A mirror was now in front of me and a giant menu was to its’ left. Names of various powers were listed in alphabetical order. There was accelerated healing, acid generation, aerokinetics, animal mimicry—

“Please scroll through the list and choose a power,” Pip said. I gaped at the silver light, wondering how I was supposed to go through every option. I glanced at my podium, seeing buttons in the shape of a control pad as well as the question mark button. I hit the latter.

“What is your question?” Pip asked.

“Is it possible to see these organized into categories?” I asked. Pip glowed white and the menu of powers suddenly changed to categories, such as physical-based, elements, and traveling abilities. “Thanks!”

“My pleasure.”

Although it still took me a bit of time, I eventually settled on the “technopathic” ability from the mental-based category. Speaking with and manipulating electronics wasn’t overused like super strength, and a power that had to do with computers was right up my alley.

A much shorter list of powers appeared on the screen within moments. “Please pick a secondary ability,” Pip said.

I looked through the list, noting that the powers had to do with my technopathy. There were abilities with robotics, super speed, high intelligence, even linguistics. I eventually settled for electricity manipulation; it’d probably be more helpful against a mugger than asking a street lamp to blind him, anyway.

After I made my selection, the menu changed to show thumbnails of pieces of clothing, the default being a leotard like Wonder Woman. I frowned at my reflection for wearing it, and quickly scrolled through to find a long-sleeved shirt, even if it did look tight. As I continued making a costume, I noticed most of the female pieces looking a bit skimpy, and vowed to speak to Alex about it.

“What is your question?” Pip asked after I pushed the question mark button again.

“Can I see the male costumes?”

Pip glowed white while rearranging the menu, and I noticed pieces of costumes from various heroes. I eventually picked out the standard one-piece spandex suit, and Pip brought out a menu of patterns and designs. Using the codes running along the walls as inspiration, the pattern along my costume looked like circuitry. I picked a deep green as the base color and a yellow-orange for the circuitry. The next menu was accessories, like masks and belts, and Pip recommended a simple domino mask around my eyes.

The accessories vanished and the mirror showed a simple text box. Glancing at my podium, I noticed it had morphed into a computer keyboard. Pip told me that it was time to pick my alias.

I looked back up at the mirror, at a loss for ideas, when I noticed words floating around the mirror. Lightning Lass, Thunder, Bolt, Shocker, Sparky… It took me a moment to realize they were name suggestions.

“Is your name Gigabyte?” Pip asked for confirmation after I typed in my choice. I pressed the yes button and the mirror disappeared.

“You are now ready to enter Goldshaft City,” Pip said as my surroundings began to fade into that soft light again. “If you need help, please call for me.” I vaguely wondered what time it was in the real world, but the thought disappeared as I began to see gray outlines of skyscrapers surround me.

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Posted by on April 16, 2017 in Scribbles


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Sunday Scribble – “Ripple Effect Part Two”

Ripple Effect
Part Two

It didn’t take me too long to find the central fountain in the mall, and I felt a bit silly pacing back and forth in front of the fountain with a Batman-patterned scarf. On the plus side, I probably looked irritated enough to keep the kiosk employees from bothering me.

I wasn’t sure if I was more anxious about meeting this Tech or about being stood up. When my watch indicated the appointed time, I began wondering if I was by the correct fountain in the right mall at the precise town. I started scrolling through my phone’s calendar while periodically looking around to be sure I had the right date when I noticed a peculiar young man walking toward the fountain.

He certainly wasn’t fashion-conscious, wearing a tan vest over a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. His short blond hair was sticking up at all angles, but nestled amid the mess atop his head was a pair of safety-goggles.


He looked at me, his eyes flickering to my scarf that I said would identify me, and smiled shyly. “Dynomite369? Forgive me, but I didn’t imagine you were a girl.”

Before I could retort, he stuck out a hand and said, “Hi. I’m Alexander Baker. You can keep calling me Tech, if you want.”

I shook his hand, replying, “Sierra Parker. It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s mine.” He adjusted the duffel bag he had over his shoulder and took a minute before saying, “Uh, want to grab a table at the food court and we can talk?”

I smiled. “Sure.”

We walked side-by-side in silence, both of us apparently uncertain as to what to say. I had hoped he would have been as talkative as online, but apparently his screen name had been his own mask. He seemed like a decent guy, though. If I had to guess, he was probably a few years younger than me, maybe just entering his twenties. Alex even attempted to pay for my food, which was more than what my last boyfriend did.

Once we got settled with our pizza at a corner table, we eased into a conversation with the generic, “How are you?” questions. Neither of us gave too much background information, a cue he seemed to pick up from me. Eventually, I pointed to his duffel bag that had occupied the third seat at our table.

“So, what did you bring with you?” I asked.

His face broke out into a grin, showing off dimples, and his soda nearly spilled from his duffel bag joining it on the table. I couldn’t help but share his enthusiasm as he pulled out items I’ve only ever seen in comic books, such as a mock Green Lantern ring (“It only glows,” Alex said, sounding thoroughly disappointed the light couldn’t materialize into shapes.), a visor that looked as if he stole it from Cyclops (“The lenses are actually made from ruby quartz just like in the comics!”), and even Wonder Woman’s bracelets (he laughed when it was obvious they were too big for me).

“I wanted to bring the Batarang and Green Arrow’s weapons,” Alex said as he packed up his toys a few hours later, “but I figured I’d get into trouble with security…”

I chuckled. “That was smart thinking.”

He paused a moment before saying, “Maybe we can meet up again? Somewhere else without the threat of police?”

“You sound as if we’re planning a crime,” I said with a raised eyebrow.

Alex gave me a crooked smile, but flushed as he considered my words. “Yeah, I suppo–”

“I’d love to,” I blurted out. We stared at each other, both of us wondering where my words came from, before he smiled.

“Great!” He hopped up from his seat and I followed suit. “I’ll message you later about it.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Conversation was much easier on the way out of the mall, and he walked me to my car. He seemed ready to hug me with all his enthusiasm, but restrained himself to a good-bye handshake before going to find his own car.

As I started my car, I shook my head as if the physical motion would settle my wild thoughts. Glancing at the time, I vowed to make my shopping trip quick to return to my laptop as soon as possible.

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Posted by on March 26, 2017 in Scribbles


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Sunday Scribble – “Ripple Effect”

I’ve played around with some of these characters in previous Scribbles. Ripple Effect, however, would most likely takes place at the very beginning of all those other stories.

Ripple Effect
Part One

I met him in an online chat room for people who were obsessed with superheroes. Among all the screen names that gave homage to Batman, Wonder Woman, and the X-Men, his was simply, “Tech123.” He didn’t contribute too much to the conversations. Rather, he corrected other people’s mistakes:

“Actually, Hawkgirl and John Stewart were only in the cartoon Justice League for gender and race diversity, I imagine. Aquaman and the Green Lantern Hal Jordan had been in their place originally.”

“The first X-Men were Cyclops, Angel, Beast, Iceman, and Marvel Girl (later known as Phoenix). Storm was recruited for the second team.”

“Barry Allen was the Flash before Wally West, not after.”

I noticed that anytime he wasn’t correcting some fan’s misconception, he would attempt to start a discussion about how the people behind the masks became superheroes. I don’t mean the heroes’ origin stories. This Tech guy was talking about the science behind all of it.

Could a man train himself to physical perfection like Batman? Could an Iron Man suit actually be made? Could a spider become radioactive and share its abilities with a human for a real-life Spiderman?

Not many others cared too much about the logic behind the comics (although there was one person whom animatedly spoke of creating a vat of toxic waste – the chat was fairly short that night), but Tech’s thoughts intrigued me. Like many fans, I often wondered what it’s like to fly, to run faster than light, to shape-shift into someone else entirely.

One night there were only a few of us in the chat room, and Tech was arguing with the toxic waste lover about the properties of lightning and its affect on various superheroes. When the argument seemed to be winding down, I interjected and asked if they thought a person’s DNA could be surgically altered to grant him or her powers.

That opened the floodgates. I initially felt guilty when the toxic waste person eventually signed off from being neglected, but Tech’s enthusiastic typing soon drove the thought from my mind.

According to Tech’s many theories, someone’s skeleton could be coated with adamantium like the Wolverine. The surgery would be difficult and the rate of the subject’s survival wasn’t very high, but it was apparently possible. He spoke of a bunch of technology, of actually creating live versions of superhero equipment, such as Wonder Woman’s silver bracelets, an arrow that deploys a net based off of the Green Arrow’s equipment, and even Batarang samples. There were plenty of topics I didn’t understand when he mentioned programs and codes, but he was always nice enough to dumb it down for me whenever I asked. He was just thrilled that someone else shared his interest.

Then the bomb dropped.

“Would you be willing to meet up?” he asked. “I’d love to show you some inventions.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Strangers always made me anxious. Why else would I talk to people on the Internet instead of bars and cafes?

“It would be out in public,” he added after I didn’t say anything for a moment. “Like, the mall or something. There’s no pressure.”

Instead of directly answering, I responded with, “How do you know if we’re in the same area?”

“My computer looks up the IP address of the people I talk to,” he said after a moment. He explained how the different sections of the IP address pinpoint the network and the area of the computer while I inwardly panicked. What else could he tell with an IP address?

“We don’t have to meet up if you don’t want to,” he said, apparently taking my silence as a negative. “I just thought you’d be interested.”

Great, he was making me feel guilty. Sighing, I figured I needed to go grocery shopping soon anyway, so I supposed one more errand wouldn’t hurt. He seemed fine, and there would be plenty of people in the mall so if he turned out to be a psycho, there’d be witnesses.

Before I could change my mind, I sent him a private instant message to figure out the finer details of our meeting. He was as excited as a puppy getting a steak. Perhaps, as an obvious comic book nerd, he didn’t meet too many fellow geeks.

We said good-night after agreeing on meeting in the early afternoon next Saturday at the local mall in the next town over. I shut down my computer and got ready for bed while hoping nothing extraordinary happened during our meeting.

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Posted by on March 19, 2017 in Scribbles


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Sunday Scribble – “After Effect Part 3”

After Effect
Part 3

It took Hazel’s new roommate over ten minutes to actually look her in the eye. Hazel wasn’t too sure why. As far as Hazel knew, she was being fairly friendly. She had even offered to switch beds if the other girl had wanted. Of course, it probably didn’t help that Hazel eventually started getting short with Skylar when Skylar barely spoke above a mumble.

“What is your problem?” Hazel eventually demanded. “Am I really that scary?”

That got Skylar’s attention and Hazel was treated to the other girl’s dark eyes. “No, not right now.”

Skylar dropped her bags and retreated to the bathroom down the hall, leaving Hazel with that cryptic thought.

Hazel rolled her eyes and shrugged before returning to her homework. It was actually much later when there was a knock on her bedroom door, so much later that she nearly forgot that she had a new roommate until she nearly tripped over Skylar’s bags to get to the door.

“I hope you’re here to tell me where that one got off to,” Hazel said to Alex as a greeting, jerking her thumb in the general direction of Skylar’s bags.

Alex ran a hand through his blond hair, looking out of his element. “Actually, I wanted to see if you had done anything to upset her. She doesn’t want to room with you.”

Hazel gaped. It took her a moment to find her voice again. “I didn’t do anything! I was just trying to be nice, showing her around the room, letting her know where the bathroom was, telling her about classes… I mean, I don’t know, maybe I talked too much or too loud or maybe my explanation of the exercise classes scared her—”

“That was my first thought,” Alex interrupted. He paused, and Hazel wondered if discipline wasn’t his usual job. That seemed to be more of a Darrien thing. “Did you draw anything that may have spooked her?”

“We didn’t talk about our powers at all,” Hazel said. “Never got a chance to before she ran out of the room. She barely spoke.”

“Well, you made her uncomfortable somehow.” Yeah, Hazel was sure Alex’s lack of tact in the teenage rearing department came from having no practice in the art. “I didn’t get much of a story out of her either, to be honest. I’m not sure if any of the other girls are willing to move at the moment, so I’m hoping that the pair of you will be up for trying to move in together again?”

“There wasn’t a first try,” Hazel said. “Whatever, though. I’ll try to be friendlier than I apparently was if she’s willing to come back.”

Alex gave her a relieved smile before disappearing and Hazel rolled her eyes as she returned to her homework. It didn’t take long before Alex returned with Skylar in tow. “Look, Skylar,” Alex said as the pair walked into the room, “Hazel was only trying to be friendly. Can we try again to get along?”

Skylar heaved a deep breath and looked at Hazel as if Hazel was nothing more than a squashed bug. “I’ll try, but I want a new roommate as soon as I can get one.”

Hazel glared. “We didn’t even talk for ten minutes. What on earth could I have done to earn this attitude from you?”

“It’s not what you did,” Skylar said. “It’s what you’re going to do.”

“Come again?” Hazel glanced at Alex for an explanation and, after a long clearing of his throat, he gave one.

“Skylar is clairvoyant,” he said.

“So, what,” Hazel said, directing her attention back to Skylar, “you can see me pulling a prank on you? What do I do, put your hand in warm water while you sleep to make you wet the bed?”

Skylar sighed. “No, you… I don’t really know what you do, I can’t see all of it, but I know I won’t like it.”

“You hate me and you don’t even know why,” Hazel pointed out. “Maybe I end up doing this thing that you don’t like in retaliation for the major attitude you’re giving me, ever think of that?” Skylar pursed her lips, and Hazel pressed on. “Maybe if we start over and just be nice to each other, that vision that you can’t see all of will go away one day.”

“It may be worth a try,” Alex said when Skylar didn’t respond immediately. “If that bad feeling doesn’t go away after a while, then we’ll figure out a roommate switch, okay?”

Skylar’s shoulders sagged. “Okay, fine… I’ll try.”

“Great!” Hazel’s enthusiastic agreement made Skylar jump, but Hazel paid it no heed as she stuck out a hand. “I’m Hazel White. Nice to meet you, roomie!”

The corner of Skylar’s lips twitched into a smile as she slowly returned the handshake. “Skylar Chen.”

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Posted by on January 15, 2017 in Scribbles


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Sunday Scribble – “After Effect Part 2”

After Effect
Part 2

Her bedroom was twice the size of the room she had become a squatter in back in the heart of the city. Of course, there was a second bed, and she was told not to get too used to having the room to herself. Apparently there was another girl that was slated to be her roommate within the next couple of days.

Hazel tossed her backpack onto the single bed next to the window and dropped her suitcase by the door. She pursed her lips at the plain bureau of drawers, of the neutral tan walls, of the gray carpet. Within a few minutes, she had her pencils and an old sketchbook out of her backpack where she began to scribble.

By the time someone had knocked on her door, her walls had purple stripes running diagonally across them, her carpet was a rich red, and her bureau had golden polka dots. When she called him in, the navy haired young man that had entered her room gazed around with an expression that was a cross between impressed and exasperated.

“Didn’t take too long to redecorate,” he commented, bringing his blue gaze back down to her.

Hazel grinned up at him. “It doesn’t take me too long to do much with these.” She waved around her sketchbook and pencil.

That earned her a crooked smile from the man. “I’m Roy. Roy Kingsley.”

“Hazel White.” She gave him a mock salute. “Are you the official welcoming committee? I mean, after that Willow girl? ”

“Not usually,” was Roy’s response. Hazel grinned, liking the honesty. “I was picked to come get you for dinner, though. Shall we?”

“Sure.” Hazel abandoned her supplies, kicked her suitcase out of the way, and reached Roy’s side. “It’s nice to be escorted to dinner by such a handsome guy.”

Roy gave her smile that was only polite as he walked beside her down the long hallway. Nonetheless, Hazel grinned and asked, “So, what do you do? Everyone around here does something fancy, right?”

“I’m hydrokinetic,” Roy said. “I do stuff with water. Control it, turn into it, shape it…” He ended his simple explanation with a shrug.

“Willow explained how she has a rapport with animals and shapeshifts,” Hazel said, wanting to hear Roy talk some more. “I also met Alex, who said he doesn’t do anything… Is that true?”

“Supposedly,” Roy said, “but he’s one of the smartest guys here. A few of my old classmates thought he had super intelligence, but the other teachers say that’s just him rather than an activated mutant gene.”

“Well, he’s smart enough to hang around mutants.”

“He helped found this place,” Roy said. “It was actually almost all him while the other teachers played the role of assistants.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hazel said, but Roy shook his head. “How can a human do all this for mutants?”

“His smarts and motivation,” was Roy’s response. “The other teachers are his best friends. More, in the case of Darrien. Did you meet anyone else yet besides Alex and Willow?”

“Just you.” Hazel gave him a playful nudge, to which he only gave her a crooked smile. It seemed that the physical familiarity that Hazel was giving him only made him uncomfortable. With that conclusion, she looped her arm around his. She ignored how he stiffened at the contact. “How many others are around here?”

“A fair amount,” Roy said, shoving his hands into his pockets, but allowing Hazel’s arm to remain where it was. “A few of my classmates have moved on, but some of them are still around to help out with your class.”

“Anyone special to you?” She smiled up at him as he raised an eyebrow down at her.

He gave her the unexpected, “Yes,” as the pair entered the dining room. The two were separated among the crowd as Hazel allowed herself to get swept up by a few teenagers closer to her age. She was shown the buffet-style dinner, going through the line to pick out what she liked to eat, before finding herself seated between a girl with hair that kept shifting length as it helped her grab condiments from down the table and a boy who was cutting up his meat with his elongated fingernails.

Hazel spotted Roy sitting in between Willow and another man about their age, and smiled as she began to eat. She could get used to a place like this.

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Posted by on January 8, 2017 in Scribbles


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Sunday Scribble – “Fall”

The names George and Lilah were randomly borrowed from one of Rachel’s current WIPs.


No one wanted to be awake at this time, not even super-powered teens. Not that Roy could blame them – it took him an embarrassingly long time to get used to the early morning school schedule, too.

“Where’s Lilah?” Roy asked, his eyes gazing from the empty seat to the rest of the class, trying to pinpoint someone who would answer him.

“I saw her at breakfast,” George offered. Roy thanked him, certain that if Roy had been a student with George, he’d be irritated at George’s goody-two-shoes behavior. As a teacher, though, Roy knew he could depend on George for information.

“So, she didn’t sleep through her alarm,” Roy muttered, looking at the clock on the wall above the door. He marked Lilah as absent. “Well, she can deal with Ms. Parker later, then.”

Out of his peripheral vision, Roy saw a few students fidget and he tried not to smirk. Sierra Parker, while he was used to her now, had always been a little frightening with her stern expressions and powerful electric-based abilities.

“So.” Roy snapped the attendance book shut. “Who wants to summarize section four of chapter one?” No one volunteered. Roy continued in a drawl, “You know, from your homework last night…?”

Unsurprisingly to Roy, George eventually raised his hand and began summarizing. While George was in the middle of speaking, a sudden gale of laughter soared through the open window, capturing everyone’s attention, including Roy’s. In fact, Roy was one of the first to look out the window.

There was Willow with her morning biology class, the group gathered around one of the estate’s many deciduous trees. A student was using her wind powers to make the leaves swirl in a flurry of red, orange, and yellow.


Roy cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Wrong class, Lilah!”


Posted by on September 11, 2016 in Scribbles


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Afterglow Games

Making games for everyone, and games for everyone else.

Extra Life

Independent game reviews


A home for my useless thoughts

I Played The Game!

Video games past, present and future.

Paper Thieves

stealing words for my soul

Old and New Reviews

Film, TV and Video Game reviews; old and new.



The Crafting Rogue

A Girl Gamer Reviews Games, Crochets, Sews, and Basically... Crafts!

Imagination in Print

you can find every answer to any question in a book

Pierina Reads

Books, Tips and Tags

MediGamer Blog

Matthew Bell

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