Writing Challenge: 100 Stories. 1 Month.

[Levi Xu]

7. Hum

When he had nothing better to do, at night--which was pretty much every night--Levi would volunteer to do the dishes, since the twins were nice enough to do all that cooking.

"Nice" is, of course, a relative term. And really, it was all the radio's fault. He put it on, and dammit, the song was catchy.

"You know it feels so dirty when they start talking cute. I want to tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot."

Levi's head started bobbing as he sorted out the silverware into the dishwasher, and rinsing the dishes. He didn't know how he knew this song, but he figured Nomi had played it at one point or another.

"And I'm looking in the mirror all the time, wondering what she don't see in me."

He hummed along, remembering only some of the words, the chorus. And when he reached it, he started singing.

"You know I wish that I had Jesse's girl. I wish that I had Jesse's girl."

There might have been a little dancing as well, between the table and the sink, as he cleared up the serving bowls. In fact, it probably would have looked pretty smoothly choreographed, with spins and tapping out the rhythm on the plates with his sponge. The song was so catchy, Levi couldn't help getting into it.

"I wish that I had Jesse's girl. I want, I want Jesse's girl.

He was too far into it to notice that his singing had disturbed a particular blond teenager.

Jesse stood in the doorway to the kitchen and growled, "What the fuck are you doing?"

***

Mr. Underwood originally planned to dock the money from the serving bowl he broke from his allowance, until Levi actually explained why he'd shrieked and dropped the thing. Then, Gabriel had been laughing too hard to punish him.

[L.C. Milliner]

54. Source

[/b][/center]

Dead. Dead and gone. Gone, gone, never coming back, gone.

How do you kill an invincible man? Drown him. That doesn’t make any sense.

My superman is dead.

---

Addie had been put into Hammel’s system, just like me. She was so alone and frightened. She cried and had horrible nightmares. God, they had turned her into me. A tiny, naturally blonde me. She said a lady and a man came to kill John. She only told me, because I’m her best friend and even though I don’t go to the school any more, I still visit her more than anyone else. She talked about a tall blonde lady and I sat back and thought about the wildfire of death that had gone through Hammel like a cannon through a house. Splinters were everywhere. Addie had found a friend in Niko, or at least she had tried. Niko was beyond reaching. So was Ginny.

Jackeroe was still sitting in Clarisse's office when I left, holding her spider. Darryl was in his classroom, staring at a picture that I knew was of him and Emiko. The place was depressing, and I had a a part to play too.

I curled up in John's desk chair and stared at his desk calendar, placed down on the top like a map or a battle plan. Saturday was circled in red.

'Dinner with Lyra.'

---

How dare they do this. How dare they destroy my home and call it compensation? How dare they roam free?

How dare I let them?

---

The gloves had been a good idea on both counts. Lyra pushed the blind woman to the wall by her throat, spikes at her face. The other girl, the alcoholic one, was already on the floor. She had stopped writhing in pain a few minutes ago, but she wasn’t dead because she was still whimpering and holding her stomach. She was trying to numb herself. The blood ran out of her like red wine.

“Where does she live.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand. She demanded compensation for this and she would get it. She drew her fist back and pushed it into the woman’s arm, twisting. The scream rocked her to the core, but the blind bitch wouldn’t budge.

This would be a long night.

---

The day Hammel buried their dead, Lyra did not attend the funerals. She did not like funerals in the first place, and she was far too busy for it. Some people called what she did ‘hunting’, but Lyra did not hunt. Hunting implied the possibility of failure. She could not, would not fail.

No. Lyra was going killing.

---

He loved me. I know he did, in his own way. He knew how to calm me down, how to make me feel better. He knew when to shut up and when to speak. He knew everything about me, my superman. He wanted the best for me, and wouldn’t take my shit. He and Addie, they were the closest thing to a family I had, and I still have a mother and a brother somewhere in this world. We had a dinner planned for Saturday, at Olive Garden. Him and I, no Addie.

Just us.

We used to go to church together some Sundays, after I had spent the night. But now I don’t know if there is a god. If there is, I hope he’ll forgive me.

---

The guards were easy. It was late and they were lax. She killed them quietly, sneaking up behind, cupping a hand around their throat, and sending a wave of spikes across their throat. They couldn’t even yell. She dropped them were they stood, leaving a wave of carnage in her wake, obvious to anyone who passed. She knew that the man was out of the house, but only for a short time. The woman, she could take care of. She was certain of it. This wasn’t just about John anymore.

This was about Dalton. James. Chase. Sean. Clarisse. Vincent. The people they had left behind.

Addie.

---

Lyra stepped across the threshold in silence, feeling her <fear> spike as she realized the woman was messing with her. It was obvious that she knew Lyra was there, the French doors were busted in and the front foyer had been torn apart. No, she had to be watching her, somewhere. She fought the emotion as best as she could and turned, snarling, because the Russian whore had made a mistake. When Lyra Milliner was afraid, she was also angry. She felt her <anger> attempting to smooth out, but it was turning to <rage> much too fast.

“Come out, you little soviet whore! Where are you?! Come out, COMRADE.” Lyra taunted, looking at the artwork on the wall before running a fist across the canvas, destroying the meticulous painting.

If she knew how she would pay for that, she would have shredded it while she had the chance.

---

<depression/hopelessness/suicidal/distress>

All of her emotions were tearing her apart.

<self-hate/destruction/mutilation/pain/melancholy/terror/need/loss>

She was on her knees in tears from the strain of holding them. She could barely breathe under their weight. The woman was kneeling in front of her, crooning. She was talking about Lyra killing herself, but not on the good carpet, she had to go to the bathroom so it wouldn’t be a mess. Her words were watery and Lyra couldn’t understand them, but she knew what she meant as she stood up and shuffled across the destroyed living room, through the demolished kitchen, and into the pristine bathroom. She sat in the bathtub and looked down at herself. The woman began to pat her hair.

<compliance/depression/suicidal/anxiety/dienow>

She could barely control herself as she began to tear up, letting the orbs spill down her face against her will. She never cried. What had she come here for? Why? Why? What had she hoped to accomplish? Killing people wouldn’t bring John back. It wouldn’t bring anyone back to her. She’d never hold them again. She’d never touch his face again, never roll her eyes and smile at his idiosyncrasies. She’d never be able to tell him that he wasn’t going to hell. Only he knew now. If he was, she would be joining him soon. She felt the woman’s grip on her tighten and remembered what she was supposed to be doing. She pressed two fingers to her temple, gulped shakily, and took a moment to pray. It was a moment too long.

<heNEVERlovedyou>

It was one little emotion that tipped her over the edge. There was one seed that had been planted that was just a bad seed. It was so unreal that it shattered the illusion. She couldn’t describe it. It was so false, it broke the spell that had been cast over her. In a single rush, Lyra remembered the sensation of John’s hands on her hair, the smell of his cologne, the sight of his crooked smirk. She had missed John’s funeral for this?

No. she had missed his funeral for revenge.

---

The <rage/diebitch/iwillfuckingkillyou/endyou> boiled over so fast and so violently Eva barely had time to blink before she saw the spiked palm aimed toward her face and tore it down to the bone, her jaw snapped and cracked, her cheek was torn clean off. She screamed, but it came out choked as Lyra jumped out of the bathtub and kicked her to the ground, stomping on her violently as she began to turn on the sink until it overflowed, the water searing hot as it spilled to the floor. Eva was in so much pain it hurt to feel. Her emotions hurt. Everything hurt. She felt herself being lifted and she found herself eye level with the girl and her piercing stare. Eva felt the <panic/fear/ohgodnotthis> leaving her and it touched the younger woman, just barely. Her searing rage destroyed it, and Eva knew her hold had been broken. She couldn’t get her way out of this.

“Now you can see how it feels, bitch.” Lyra plunged Anastasia Van Drakke’s face into her kitchen sink, the water spilling over in a swirling pink pattern as she thrashed, her attempts to qualm the younger girl’s <rage> failing miserably. She thought of Ivan and thrashed herder, but the girl’s hold had rooted deep in her neck, and soon, she had to let go.

It took less time than expected.

---

“You killed him in his kitchen sink.” She said to the body, fishing through the medicine cabinets. “I washed dishes in that sink. I splashed him with water from that sink.” She shook as she took a moment to brush hair back from her face. “We watched Addie play in the backyard in front of that sink.” It was obvious Eva had gotten to her. She was shaken, as if she were trying to get used to her emotions being hers again. She left to go find something to calm her. There was work to be done, still.

---

When Ivan came home from the liquor store with the celebratory champagne, he saw the destruction in the living room and followed it to the kitchen were the blonde girl was sitting on the counter. She was smoking a cigarette. It was Eva’s. “I hate to admit it, but she has great taste in smokes.”

He wanted to grab the girl right now and kill her, but he was too stunned. Eva was likely somewhere in the house waiting for him, knowing he’d finish her. He’d like to just leave the girl and find her first. But there was work to be done, and as he pulled out his butterfly knife, the girl remained on the counter. She was still smoking. That was Eva’s cigarette. It was not hers to smoke. He watched her, expecting her to fight, or at least run. He wanted her death to be worthy of memory. Messy. The killing was supposed to be over. But she looked complacent, almost as if she expected him to want her to flee.

“She yelled your name through the water. At least, I think she did. It was sort of strangled, because I did tear off her face.” She was trying to get a rise out of him. It was working. It was working very well. “I mean, you are Ivan, right? Because if not, well, those bottles will do you some good.” She paused, and then gestured with her foot to the light spilling out onto the hallway carpet. The normally white plush was flat with water and was stained pinkish. “The cadaver’s in the bathroom, if you want to look. I’ll be here when you get back. Take all the time in the world.” Ivan did not need to see the body. Eva’s tendrils of emotion weren’t touching him like they should have been, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

He dropped the bag of liquor and lunged for her, but she opened her arms as if she were expecting him. He sunk his knife into her back, once, twice, three times, but she did not move, other than to tighten her grip on him. He paused and shook her, but she was muttering something, wheezing it, mostly, blood starting to creep up out of her lips.

“See how lovingly... the blessed virgin opens her arms to thee? On her bosom thy hardened heart will be melted; there, thou wilt confess...”

Ivan had heard a rumor once that a girl called ‘The Iron Maiden’ ad graduated from Hammel in June, but had paid it little thought. To him, she was any other student. Now, he regretted it.

“You will confess.”

Spikes surrounded him. They tore into his front, into his back, they coated him in holes so quick that blood splattered on the counter, walls, floor, even on the ceiling. He couldn’t breathe. He felt her spikes pull free and he began to sink to the floor, but he had enough strength in him to plunge his knife into her shoulder before he fell onto the bottles. He blinked slowly and watched as she teetered over him and fell back onto the counter, trying to hold herself up, and he closed his eyes, hoping he’d be led to Eva soon.

He had an eternity to spend with her.

---

It’s too cold. John, it’s far too cold.

She sank into the counter, her breathing ragged. Her shirtfront was nonexistent, it was so full of holes.

John. It’s too cold here.

She had to go back. She had to tell Addie that she would be safe now. She had to visit John’s fresh grave and give him the flowers she had waiting in the car. They were roses. Red ones.

She said you didn’t love me. But you did, and now you’re gone.

She was fading fast.

I know I’ll be in hell, but maybe you’ll still look down on me and smirk. I would serve an eternity for that.

She stumbled into the living room and coughed up blood on the cream colored carpeting, almost out of spite. She was on her hands and knees, but she paused, sitting up to lean against the back of the broken couch. The bay window overlooking the valley was shattered. The breeze was cool.

I wanted to watch a sunrise with you but you didn’t like those sort of things, you British bastard. I’ll watch this one by myself...

---

When the sun rose over the destroyed manor, there were three bodies.

There was a beautiful woman clad in fashionable silk, curled on her side with half her face missing, expression caught in a panicked scream.

There was a handsome man in Armani, lying on the kitchen tile riddled with holes, grimacing and clutching a bottle of champagne.

Then, there was a plain teenage girl with mousy brown hair in black skinny jeans and converse sneakers, a t-shirt clinging to her thin frame in shreds. She was leaning back against a sofa. Her eyes were stuck half open and glazed over.

And as the sun’s first rays washed over her, the light showed a faint smirk on her face.
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Samuel Rixon]

32. Supernatural

Marijuana was never a good idea.

Especially when one hung out with Levi.

Sometimes, it puts strange ideas into your head.

Ideas like vampires.

Sam was a vampire.

Levi had told him so.

Unfortunately, that had led to… this.

“RAWR!” The pyro ran across the courtyard, arms spread wide. He was excited. He was a vampire! He was invincible!

… He was also running around like an idiot. He was dressed in black jeans, a black hoodie, and enjoying the summer heat. Levi had told him he sparkled in the light. That his touch was freezing cold. The latter, he had a hard time believing, but the sparkling? He was totally in for that.

“I’M SPARKLY, LOSERS!” He cackled as he raced past a group of frightened looking students, all younger than him. His antics weren’t quite known to the new students, but he didn’t care. That wouldn’t be the case for long.

He’d already demonstrated his vampire powers on Vincent, but the bastard had healed as fast as he’d bitten. He’d tried again, but to no avail. Vincent just wouldn’t stay bitten. Ember hadn’t let him try, he hadn’t wanted to turn Horus undead, because that just wouldn’t be nice to his boyfriend, and it just hadn’t worked with Levi.

In short, he needed new victims.

But he was banned from the library, Kilbourne had jedi mind powers and it probably wouldn’t work, Dr. Campbell was too worried about germs, Mr. Bond was still mad at him for the Sweeney Todd fiasco, and most of the students took off in the other direction when he came around.

Unless they weren’t expecting him, of course.

Sam found Evan near the pond, his hand twined with Levi’s. Though he usually avoided the hell out of the pond, because of the koi, this was just too good. It hadn’t worked with Levi, but maybe Evan would be a better vampire?

He took a running leap before landing solidly on the phaser’s back. “VAN!” before the boy had too much of a chance to react, Sam nuzzled his face against his neck before biting down.

“OW! SAM!” Evan flailed and tried to pry the pyro off his back. “Get OFF me!”

Sam just giggled, dropping from Evan’s back. “Now y’ a VAMPIRE! Y’ welcome!” Evan rubbed his neck, his fingers coming away clean. He really had no patience for Samuel’s antics. Sam glanced at his fingers, then his neck, looking crestfallen. “AWW MAN! I DIDN’T DO IT RIGHT! C’MERE! I GOTTA DO IT AGAIN!”

Evan didn’t need any more warning than that.

He took Levi’s hand and ran.

[JD Paerson]

Furthering the post-apocalyptic AU, continuing story of JD and Robbie after the student evacuation written by Jam. Apologies to Nu for stealing her character.

58. Mountain

It was better than no warning at all. JD just had to keep telling himself that as he watched the panic-filled eyes of the students being evacuated. He made sure to say good-bye to Josef, telling the guy not to worry. His brother said he wasn’t worried, but the speedster couldn’t tell if he really believed that or was just saying it to make everything easier.

Part of him wondered if the attack was coming now because they were busy trying to evacuate all the students. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that. But then, it was probably going to happen sooner or later. There wasn’t much they could do about it now, since the events had already been put in motion. There was nothing to do but wait, and waiting was something he had never been good at.

When he had a few minutes spare time, he ran off into the woods to try to forget all the stress and difficulties. While he was impressed with how Zac had stepped up in the situation and he was even glad to see the change, being around the once-playful billionaire only served as a deeper reminder of how much things had changed. He had to be alone, for just a little while, to pretend everything was going to be all right.

It was on one of these runs when he happened to find the cave. The entrance was hidden behind a lot of brush and on the backside of the mountain. It was big and dry, except for a small drip of water in the back room. It was what every runaway dreamed about and something he’d never expected to see in the tame woods of Vermont. But now that he needed it, it was suddenly here. He had to wonder if anyone’s power had caused it to come into being (Josef’s ability of probability came to mind), but he wasn’t going to question anything.

Instead he stocked up. He took food from the kitchen, anything that would last for a long time and a lot of other perishables that would hold them over. Flashlights, batteries, sleeping bags, blankets—anything that he could think of, he stashed it in the cave. Hopefully he would never need it, but it was better to have it just in case. He didn’t tell anyone about its existence, though he suspected some of the telepaths might know. He was careful not to think about the exact location so that if anyone was reading his mind, they wouldn’t be able to find the cave. It was an unknown—a safe place. Or at least it should be.

When the final attack came and JD was left on the ground, staring up at the helicopters, he forced himself not to cry. Not in front of Robbie, who would need someone to help him get through this alive. Since there was no longer any way out, he had to take the next best step.

“Robbie,” JD said, turning to the guy. “You want to find Estelle, right? But you can’t do that if you’re dead. So the first thing we have to do is get out of here alive. Got it?”

The weather manipulator nodded silently.

“I’m going to carry you out of here. Shut your eyes, because when I run I automatically create a field around my body, but you won’t be protected from the wind and anything else in the air.” He bent down so that the guy could ride piggyback, then he looked at the gates of the school. He took one last glance up into the sky.

Zac’s uncle was a mind-reader, and he probably knew that JD had a safe zone. That would have to be enough to comfort his friend. The speedster said a silent farewell. “Please let everyone else be safe,” he murmured quietly. Then he started to run.

He couldn’t go as far or as quickly when he was carrying someone, and they had to stop several times for Robbie to get off and walk on his own.

“What about Estelle? How is she going to find us if we’re not at the school?” he asked eventually.

“She won’t go to the school, not now. There’s nothing there. She’ll probably go to a town or stay by a road, so that she can get supplies. We’re going to start searching there, but first we have to get to safety ourselves.”

“And where is safety?” Robbie barked.

JD sighed. Both of them were scared and worried about other people. At least the speedster knew that his friends and family had been evacuated, but this guy still had someone missing. He had to remember that and try not to get upset.

“There’s a place up in the mountains. I don’t want to say too much in case someone is listening. But if we stay there, then the others can come find us. Chances are they’ll all end up heading that way—a mountain is a good stronghold.”

“Yeah? So how do you know the bad guys aren’t already up there?”

“I don’t. We just have to hope that we’ll be safe.”

Wasn’t that all anyone was doing now? Trying to be safe? And while they might never find anyone else, at least these two had a place to go, a refuge. They had their mountain.

[Jesse Adams]

41. Plastic

It had all started with a school trip. Three days of being outdoors, learning about stupid things like trees and nature and ecosystems. Really, it was stupid. Jesse wasn’t listening. At all. He could care less about photosynthesis and flowers and stupid shit like that.

The only reason he was even on the trip was because Nate had made him. He’d called it a good opportunity.

Jesse called it a poor excuse to have the house to himself for three days. Selfish prick.

He made a mental note to collect some poison ivy and shove it in his surrogate father’s underwear drawer.

He hated the trip. He wanted to go home, curl up with his video games. This nature crap was complete bull. He hated to admit it, but he even missed Nate. To a degree. He missed having someone to fight with. Someone around, even if they didn’t speak on good terms. His classmates didn’t count as company. Though he put on an act for them, inside, he hated them. All of them.

At least, he had hated the trip. Until there was mention of a trail ride.

Jesse had always had a bit of a passion for animals. It showed, when he lay snuggled with Gambit at night, his arms wrapped firmly around the massive dog as he fought sleep. His father had never seen the value in letting his son mess around with animals. They’d never had so much as a fish. He’d never gotten what he really wanted.

This was going to be interesting.

~

“MAX!” Jesse practically broke down the door as he came home.

“KENNY.” The DJ grabbed the teenager around the neck and mussed his hair. “Don’t call me Max,” he hissed. Jesse just smirked.

“Fine. Dad. Hi.” Nathan frowned. Jesse was in too good of a mood. This could not be good.

“Okay, what?” Nate let go of him. The teenager still had that goofy grin on his face.

“I want a horse.” Nate just stared at him blankly.

“’I’m sorry? You want what?”

“You’re goin’ deaf, old man. I. Want. A. Horse.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because horses are expensive. No. You have Gambit. He’s like a horse.”

“No, he’s not.”

“Gabriel spoiled you.” He saw the teenager wince, but he didn’t regret what he’d just said. “You aren’t having a horse.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re not my type.”

“… F… jerk.” Jesse stormed up to his room, slamming the door. In moments, the boom of the subwoofer started up.

Nate just rolled his eyes, flopping down on the sofa. Brat. But the more he mused over his ‘son’s’ ridiculous request, the more he started to get an idea.

~

“Jesse. Come here.”

“No. Fuck off.” Jesse tossed one of his sneakers at the door. Nate dodged it, crossings his arms.

“You know, that’s not the kind of behaviour I’d expect from the owner of a certain animal.”

“Why? What’d Gambit do now?”

“Not Gambit.” A knowing smirk was on Nate’s face. Jesse stared up at him, confused.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“What has four legs and whinnies?”

Jesse’s eyes widened. Nate grinned. “Where?”

“Here.” Nate brought one hand from behind his back and tossed something at the teen. “Happy now?”

Jesse reached for the item tossed at him. He blinked. In his hands was a plastic horse. Nate leaned against the wall, watching. The expression on the teen’s face was priceless.

“Her name is Spot.” He couldn’t help the little laugh that followed.

“You’re not funny,” Jesse snapped, flinging the model back at him. “Go away.”

Nate left the room laughing, scooping up the little model as he went.

Funny.

He wasn’t laughing the next morning, when he found the ivy leaves just a little too late.

They were accompanied by a little note. I still want my goddamn horse.

[Stella Pinyin]

88. Present


It was Stella’s 21st birthday, and she wasn’t to be found. Her uncle had decided that his ward needed a party so, as a present, he’d thrown her a party. Parties were not Stella’s idea of a good time; the invite list had been people her uncle thought would be good for her, rather then people she actually liked. Her list of people she wanted had been short though. Only two people. Dimitri was doing research in Sweden but had send her a tea set. Then, there was one person her uncle disapproved of. The one person who hadn’t RSVPed.

So Stella was hiding in the garden. Their back yard reached all the way down to a little river and so, knowing that her luminescence would make it hard to keep out of sight, the white haired girl had found a patch of soft grass behind the bushes to sit on.

The dim light made it impossible for her to see, but Stella’s other senses were kicking and she laid down on the grass. It smelt like earth and new things, and the blades tickled her nose. She could close her eyes and listen to the water, and breath in the smell of grass, and not have to worry about her uncle’s friends staring at her or having to think of things to say.

”Glowworm!”

Hair lying out on the grass, bone against emerald, Stella didn’t bother opening her eyes. It would be pointless anyway. She knew who it was. ”Hello Zac. I didn’t think you were coming.” The calm she’d been collecting was disappearing, and her mouth twitched into a frown. Without sight, she heard the grass bend even as she felt slight warmth on one side as he sat beside her.

”Course I’d come, Stella!” he sounded offended, but Stella could hear the defensiveness in his voice.

”You didn’t RSVP,” she mumbled, turning her face away from him slightly to let him know she was still mad. Her hair had fallen across her face and she hooked the offending strands with one finger and pulled them off her face.

Next to her, she could hear Zac’s breathing and heard him sigh and run his fingers idly through her hair. He was horrible at apologies. ”I brought champagne,” he offered, finding her hand and pulling the girl up. Stella’s eyes flickered open, still unseeing as they looked towards Zac blankly. He took her hand and pressed the glass into it, and Stella sipped, still looking put out.

”Your other friends are...” he started, and she could hear the laughter in his voice.

”They’re not my friends,” she muttered, sipping and letting the bubbles hit the roof og her mouth. ”They’re people I need to network with,” She paused for a moment, then took another gulp of champagne to help loosen her tongue. ”they’re not very, I mean, I don’t really have a lot in common...”

Zac laughed and patted her head and she frowned in his direction.

”You mean they're boring,” he smirked, and laughed out loud as Stella nodded slightly, blushing. She sipped again and held the glass back out, waiting until Zac took it, then lay back down with a sigh. ”Well now I’m here, my little glowworm. Your boredom is over!”

On the ground, the glowing girl giggled slightly and turned unseeing amethyst eyes back to her friend. ”But you didn’t RSVP!”

”Glowworm glowworm glowworm,” Zac said with mock sadness, ignoring Stella’s attempts to smack his knee, ”I am too important to RSVP.”

”Give me back my champagne,” She said, reaching out, ”Please,””

Feeling the glass back in her hand, Stella took another sip then threw the last little bit in the general direction of Zachary LaRousse. ”That is for not letting me know you were coming!” she exclaimed, then let the empty glass drop onto the grass and covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. She could hear Zac’s indignant gasping, then his own laughter as the shock wore off.

”Only just an adult and already making a mess,” Zac shook his head, and she could hear his grin in his voice. ”If you want me out of my shirt you only need to ask, Glowworm.”

Still giggling at her own daring, the pale girl shook her head. ”No, no, that would be a horrible birthday present,” she managed to get out between giggles, then shouted as an arm around her waist pinned her back to the ground. Squealing and hitting out with white hands, the birthday girl swatted Zac’s hands off and scowled in his direction. The expression sat oddly on her face and the arrogant animal mimic just laughed.

”I might not give you your present now,” he warned, ”Throwing expensive champagne on my shirt, insulting me like this,”

Stella shook her head and pushed herself up again. Her dress was going to have grass stains on it. A warm hand grasped her shoulder and Stella heard Zac shift over the grass, the warmth at her back. There was the sound of rustling and cloth and something cold set around her neck. Her hand rose to her throat, the night-blind girl tracing her fingers over a star. ”Pretty,” she said happily, then turned back to face Zac again. ”Thank you!”

His breathing had changed, a little. Slower, shallower. It sounded a little strange. ”Are you alright?” The boy cleared his throat, and Stella heard material rustled like a shrug.

”That’s your present,” He said after a moment. ”But I’m taking one too.”

”But it’s my bithd-” His mouth on hers cut off the rest of her complaint. She did not complain, after that.

[Germaine Sharpe]

59. Current

It was official; the beach was awesome.

Germaine has always been jealous when her classmates had come back from summer break, boasting about their trip to Florida or California and all the fun they had in Orlando or San Diego or Los Angelos. She wanted to go too, but usually her vacations consisted of camping trips or visiting relatives. Then one summer, when she was ten and her brother was eight, her parents announced their family vacation to California.

She had been thrilled.

The day they went to the beach, however, clearly stood out above the rest. She had been to theme parks before, and while none of them compared to Disneyland, they were still essentially the same. Rides, staff in character costumes, sticky foods...she had seen it all before. But the beach was something new. Colorado didn't have an ocean, and lakes really weren't comparable. There were many reasons for this; the seashells, the salt, the waves.

It was mainly the waves that Gerri liked. The way they crashed into the shore, singing a song with the seagulls that was soothing enough to lulled her to sleep as she laid in the sand. The way they seemed to stretch on into infinity, beyond the horizon to another country, another world that she would never see from the beach. The way they felt when they flowed over her toes or tossed her about in the water when she tried to belly surf on them. The waves were by far her favorite part and distracted her as she carelessly splashed about. She hadn't noticed that the farther she swam out, the farther the current carried her away from her parent's beach setup.

Still, Germaine enjoyed trying (and failing) to concur the waves in blissful ignorance. It wasn't until a particularly large one tossed her on her head and spat her back out on the shore that she finally gave up the fight. She dropped on the wet sand with a thud, rolling on her side so she could cough up the water in her trachea, the salt burning her throat and sinuses. A small hiss escaped her lips as she clawed at her hair in an attempt to free it of the sand clotting up her curls, but she quickly gave up on that. As she stood up to seek out her parents and retrieve her towel, she realized she didn't recognize any of the beach goers surrounding her. Whoa, how'd she get so far away?

Gasp!

The ocean must have been trying to kidnap her! It was a good thing she had escaped before it dragged her too far away, but now that she was free from it's grasp, she needed to figure out how to get back to her towel. Gerri quickly scanned the area to look for some hint that would point her in the right direction, but she didn't know which way the current had carried her. With little more than a shrug, the girl turned south and started skipping across the wet sand, hoping to stumble upon someone she knew.

She would have been content to skip all the way to Mexico, but suddenly her mother was there, scooping her up to smother her with hugs and kisses. It was awful. "Germaine, don't wander off! I was worried sick."

"Maaawwwwwwm," Gerri whined, "Stop it. I'm fine." She pushed her mother away with a small pout, and reluctantly followed her back to their claimed area. The ten-year-old scooped up her towel and wrapped it around herself as she looked out at the waves.

...Even though the ocean had tried to kidnap her, the beach was still awesome.

[/justify]

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#81 - Like

Driving lessons were officially canceled, for good this time.

Sean should have known better than to put Josh behind the wheel of a stick-shift, because of the additional c complications which came from changing gears and from having a clutch pedal. The clutch pedal had been the worst of it, because Josh had confused it with the accelerator. The telepath had been absorbed in the task of jetting his hand out the window to signal a turn – the turn signals on the old vehicle had been broken for a while – and he didn’t notice that they’d veered off course. Then Josh hit the accelerator and the car hit the tree.

The car was ruined; even if they could find all of the parts that had shattered, there was no reason to try to rebuild it when it was so old. Josh had walked away with a few scratches on his arms and face, but otherwise unscathed. Sean hadn’t been quite as lucky.

He didn’t remember the pain as his head cracked against the window. He didn’t remember calling out to make sure Josh was all right before losing consciousness.

He didn’t remember anything.

The doctors said that the amnesia was unexpected but they presumed it was temporary. While losing memory around a shock, particularly with a head injury, was common, the injury wasn’t serious enough to warrant complete retrograde amnesia.

He had taken everything on faith. He was Sean Neville, a psychiatrist who worked at a private school in Vermont. It was 2011 and he was in his fifties. His memory should return soon. Josh was a friend and his number was programmed into Sean’s phone and he could call him anytime. When Sean had flinched upon seeing the taxi that would take him back to his house, Josh had thought twice and told him to stay at his apartment, at least until his memory returned.

Now Sean Neville lived on a sofa.

He used a bicycle to get around; it belonged to Josh but the other man let him borrow it.

It had been three weeks but his memories hadn’t returned. His medical appointments had also gotten stranger. He would sit in a room with a doctor and a man who supposedly worked with him, and they would ask the same question. “What am I thinking?”

And he would give the same answer. “How should I know?”

Then the doctor and the man from his school would share a concerned look and schedule a new appointment. The doctor would give him a list of signs to watch out for, and remind him to call if he should experience any sign. Some made sense: headaches, memories returning or déjà vu symptoms. Others didn’t: voices in his head, savant moments and dreams of drowning.

He’d only had two dreams that he remembered since the accident: both were of car crashes. He was told this was normal.

He wasn’t allowed to return to work until he had made a “full recovery,” which left him alone on weekdays while Josh was at the office. He didn’t require supervision because his cognitive skills were fine; he had merely lost his memory. He spent the first few days looking for photographs, hoping that they might jog his memory, but Josh didn’t keep very many. Of the ones he had, almost none were of him or of them together. Perhaps they hadn’t known one another for very long.

He’d asked about it one night. Josh had grown uncomfortable and had muttered that they’d been friends for thirty-three years. Sean hadn’t asked anymore questions about their friendship.

He didn’t have many visitors. When Josh’s mother came over for Shabbat, she would ask how he felt and invite him to eat with them; she even let him borrow one of her husband’s yarmulkes. She was very pleasant if a bit talkative, and Sean was happy to sit there and listen. It was nice to have a family, particularly when he had no relatives of his own.

His parents were dead, he’d been told. He was unmarried and had no children. He had a sister but they didn’t get along. When he had asked why, Josh had told him that it was complicated. Sean had considered asking for her phone number but decided against it; what could he say when he didn’t remember anything about her? And if they didn’t get along, she would probably be happier if he didn’t reach out to her.

The only other people to come around to the apartment were Josh’s friends. There was the tall one named Riley who usually brought chocolate cake with him; he had a gentle face and never forgot to ask how his day was. Then there was the short one named Cobalt who made Sean feel like he was intruding. Since he didn’t have a room of his own to which to retreat, he would go out for walks or bike rides whenever Cobalt was over. He gave Cobalt a wide berth.

He wondered what he had done to Cobalt to make him so angry. Sometimes he wondered if Cobalt and Josh were lovers and if he resented that Josh had a house guest.

He knew that both men were gay, but he didn’t consider it a savant moment; he also knew it wasn’t any of his business and thus he never reported it to his doctor. Besides what possible use was it to his recovery that he knew gay people?

Nobody else came to visit.

Once, after Josh had come home after going out to supper with Cobalt and Riley and another man Ben, Sean had asked him about it.

“Was I a good person?”

Josh had been taken aback but had replied, “Well, yes, of course you were.”

“Did people like me?”

“Of course they did. You had – have – a lot of friends.”

Sean was used to Josh correcting his tenses, trying to differentiate between B.A. and A.A., before and after the accident.

“Then why doesn’t anyone visit?”

The other man had look uncomfortable again, almost frustrated before giving a non-response. “It’s complicated.”

Sean had waited for an explanation but none came. He prompted him, “Like with my sister?”

“No.” The other man had been quick to distinguish between the two situations. “Nothing like that. Your friends would come if they could.”

It had made no sense to him; surely his friends weren’t all in prison. “Why can’t they?”

“It’s complicated,” Josh had repeated. Sean had stopped asking, although he felt as though he had fewer answers than when he had asked.

He had begun having déjà vu moments. Nothing concrete; and he had difficulty describing them to his doctor. They all revolved around being in Josh’s apartment and cooking breakfast or supper and discussing something they saw on the news. The doctor told him that it was possible that this was only reminiscent of where his memories began with the amnesia, but to keep alerted if he had other feelings. It might be a good sign.

He felt conflicted. He wanted his life back; he wanted to regain his memories and to see people who he knew who weren’t there to visit Josh. At the same time, he liked living in this apartment, even if he was living on a borrowed sofa. It was all that he knew and he was afraid of being tossed out into the ether. As frustrating as unanswered questions were, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were better than complicated answers.

[Alice Perette-Johnston]

75. Applause


Alice reclined against the soft, hair-like blades of silver grass that grew in splotches over the stark white landscape she had only visited a few times. She gathered it was a dream, since her dream-walking roommate occasionally stumbled in to keep her company, but she didn’t sleep enough to become intimately familiar with the beautiful landscape-- The moonbeam grass, the oil-slick flowers, and the great yellow trees with parchment-paper leaves-- gorgeous, but foreign even for Alice.

She’d found, through some exploring, that the plants in this world lended themselves easily to music. All she had to do was brush her hand through the great translucent reeds and they would thrum with the warm baritone of the cello. She pulled one of the leaves down off the tree, watching as it warmed to a passionate red wherever her fingers touched, and rolled it into a thin tube. Sticking her tongue between her teeth and shaking the warped-looking wand a bit, it elongated and straightened into the best bow she could manage to fashion out of her bare hands.

Curiously, she drew the bow gently over the grass, giggling with glee as the reeds went rigid under the bow and brought forth a sound not unlike her beloved cello. With fervor she sawed at the reeds as if making to cut them down, but the beautiful, enchanting sound that burst forth was too sweet to cut away. She sighed to herself and surprised to hear a vague smattering of applause.

She turned to look about herself and found no one, yet the distinct fluttering sound of applause met her ears. She smiled graciously, her green eyes scanning the strange landscape. She dipped her head in a little bow and a chorus of shouting arose; faint, as if distant, but distinct all the same.

“A-lice! A-lice! A-lice!”

She smiled and turned, taking a deep, theatrical bow.

“ALICE!”

The blonde girl’s eyes shot open, only to find Autumn leaning over her with concern, her face pink from yelling. Alice blinked and tilted her head, grass rustling against her ears. Breathlessly, Autumn sat back on her haunches.

“I think you fell asleep and…and there was this sound…and all the birds flew out of the grass.” She explained, waving at a flock of geese that had moved just a little ways off. Alice looked at them and leaped to her feet.

The flock took off in a flurry of flapping wings sounding not unlike the flutter of applause. Alice grinned and took another bow to the only audience that had bothered to acknowledge her.

[Benjamin Rhodes]

84. Fossil

The trip to the dinosaur exhibition had been Sayesha's idea, something Ben's former intern had done a lot with her parents when she was younger. Ben was more than happy to bring his kids out despite Trent and Cobalt's grumbling about leaving the house at all. "Come on daddy!" Macy gave her most convincing puppy dog eyes, something Sparky had yet to be immune to despite having had the sweet girl for close to seven years now.

Ben wasn't helping Cobalt's cause by fiddling with the back of his husband's neck. Many hesitant grumblings later, the whole family [and this was meant for every single person in the Rhodes household] was crammed into the shared mini Sammy that hauled all seven of the two couples' kids to and from school and soccer practices and ballet recitals and science fairs [and then college and work and play dates...the list goes on and on].

With Ben at the wheel and everyone else chattering with Padma about college, he occasionally patted Cobalt's knees, trying to get him to smile. Every now and again, Ben would see a ghost of a smile appear on the other man's face and Ben's heart would go aflutter. Yes, he was definitely the woman in this relationship.

Once they procured the tickets for the dinosaur exhibition, they were split into groups of four. Ben with Drew and Henry, Yulia with Padma and Colbie, Sparky with Trent and Macy and Andrew with David. With everyone happy with who they ended up with to cover the whole place easier, Ben had to place a tight grip on Henry before the fifteen year old boy zoomed away from him and got lost.

"Dad, come on I'm fifteen!" the small boy protested at being held on to. "I quite honestly don't care if I need to give you a child leash, Hen. I'm not letting you out of my sight. You remember when we went to Disneyworld? Hmm? You unlocked the simulator door while it was moving."

"God, dad. Take a chill pill. I was nine." Henry whined, looking at David for support. The eighteen year old boy just grinned and shrugged. "Hey, you're on your own. I'm pretty sure what Big Ben's saying is legit. And besides, you inhaled like ten pixie sticks in two seconds. This is a place where it's mostly very precariously joint jigsaw pieces of bones just ready to fall."

Ben tried to hide a grin when Henry and David started to argue. They were both incredibly interested in discovering things, something the adults picked up on pretty early. But Henry's attention span was like a gold fish. As soon as he saw something remotely shiny, his attention would snap like a rubber band. It was amusing to hear him talk a mile a minute about the scuff in his shoe until a dog runs up and he would go into a spiel about how there are some dogs that are trained to be spies in some countries.

Within a second into their argument, Henry suddenly went: "Oh my God dad bones! Look!" This time, Henry was the one who grabbed at Ben's hand, tugging the old man close to a small box with a neatly aligned set of fossils in the shape of a tiny dinosaur. "Dad, this says it's a hundred and twenty seven thousand years old!"

Ben looked at the description beside the casing and laughed lightly at the information. He simply ruffled the boy's hair and with David in tow, they scoured the whole place without too much hitches, which Ben was surprised at. And once again, Henry tried to escape the simulator ride by opening the side door while it was still operating which earned him a whap on the head from David's pamphlet.

And as all of them regrouped, the younger kids started to whine about food and once again, they all piled into their minivan before driving to the lake near the house for a picnic. "Dad! Dad! How would you feel if you saw a dinosaur in your backyard?!" Henry asked as they set up their picnic things. Well, Henry was bouncing around, plucking grass from the ground before showering Marcy with it, while everyone else set things up.

Sparky looked at Ben and then looked at Henry with a grin. "He's talking to you," Sparky smirked at his husband who chuckled. "I don't-"

"You'll feel old that's what! It's funny see because you're old!" Henry giggled, to which Sparky snickered at. Ben shoved his husband's shoulder lightly. "Jerk." He rolled his eyes oh so maturely before cutting up some apples for Marcy. "Thank you daddy." The twelve year old girl smiled before accepting the cut apples.

"I'm just going to revel in the knowledge that fifteen thousand years from now, if they had exhibits on you, your genus would be jerkus maximus." Ben showed his excellent argumentative skills to which Sparky could only laugh at.

[A/N: I keep forgetting to apologise for stealing characters so I will apologise here and now ^^ Sorry Kayla and Claire for stealing your beloved Ben's loves ^^]

[Robbie Wilkes]

73. Old

- OOC: Continuation to JD's 58. Mountain prompt. Apologies for all borrowed characters. -

Shielding his eyes from the crawling sun, Robbie's other arm curled around a warm weight. The pillows under him rustled as his head turned to find a tuft of dark brown hair peeking under the dark red sheets. He pulled it down and grinned at the sight of the small girl whose cheek was plastered on to his arm. He pulled her closer, nuzzling the top of her head and sighing.

"You have to stop doing that sighing thing." Robbie looked up from the little girl's head to find the replica on a beautifully ageing woman. Grinning, he took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, taking in his wife's beauty. The tall woman climbed into bed and pressed her lips on to the girl's forehead before snuggling under the covers. "It's that time of year again..." Liv Wilkes nee Winston told her husband with a small smile.

Robbie's waned just a little before pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Forgive me for being a negligent-"

"Don't be an idiot. And don't wake Effy up." The dark haired woman chided Robbie, a smile peeking under the chagrin. He pulled himself up, placed a warm and tender kiss to the side of Liv's jaw and slowly extricated himself from under his fourth daughter, Effy.

"I'll call you when I get there. I promise. And Liv. I love you."

---

It had been thirty-two years since he'd first hiked these trails. The air smelled the same and everything looked untouched. But Robbie was a different man. And everything else had changed.

His body was aching when he finally pushed aside the brush that hid the sanctuary he had found refuge in so many years ago. He was surprised to see someone else was there.

Initially unrecognisable, Robbie's eyes finally adjusted enough to find that the figure was of a still physically fit Zachary LaRousse. Though his hair was graying and his face was slightly wrinkled every here and there, Robbie had to admire the fact that he still looked the same. "LaRousse." Robbie's voice bore a hitch before both grown men met in the middle for a hug. For awhile, all the years that had passed seemed to melt away, leaving the men clinging on to the embrace.

When they finally had their fill, they mutually parted, their eyes glistening with unshed tears. Zachary cupped both Robbie's cheeks, resting his forehead on the weather manipulator's and grinned. "You're alive. Damn it. I wasn't sure if you and JD had...damn it Robbie." And once again, they were in each other's arms, both still etched with disbelief that after so many years, this place finally got them back together.

This mountain. It was theirs.

---

"I wasn't sure how long after we were evacuated that I heard that both of you were missing. I tried to find you when I heard from JD. About this place. About you running away from this place. Why would you even do that?" Zac asked, throwing a small piece of rubble at Robbie's head on the other side of the cave with perfect accuracy.

"I had to find her, Zac. She was everything to me. She still is. I couldn't just stay in here and let her rot in wherever the hell she was. I had to find her."

"Ever the romantic, as always, Wilkes." Zac smirked but Robbie could tell it was a half-hearted one. He gave the other man a replicated smirk but meaning it even less. "Learnt from the best."

A sort of comforting silence enveloped them both before Robbie looked at Zac at the same time as the other man did and the look on Robbie's face was more than enough for Zac to understand. A slow shake of the head caused Robbie to sigh, his whole body physically slumping forward and his face scrunched up in a frown. "Last I heard from him, he left a wife and three kids. Remarkable bone structure." Zac tried to lighten the mood.

"So he did well for himself?" Robbie smiled, hinting at the sadness in his voice. "Extremely." Zac reassured him and Robbie nodded, finding it easier to swallow. "How did he..." the blond weather manipulator couldn't even finish his sentence but Zac knew what the rest of it was anyway.

"Offset of his power I suppose?" Zac answered unabashedly. The blond nodded, slowly swallowing to clear his throat. Robbie had been coming back to this place, the same day, the same time year in year out just to meet up with the man who had saved his life but JD never came. The weather manipulator just wanted to say thank you. For letting him live longer. To let him see four of his daughter grow up so beautifully. To find the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. All because he didn't let Robbie lose hope.

Estelle was never found in the end. A few weeks after Robbie left the mountain, he heard a body was found lying in a ditch. A young girl, eighteen years of age, Hispanic with long dark hair. Robbie tried not to think about it but slowly, the idea manifested in his head, leaving him completely wrecked for days, months... He couldn't even bring himself to go to the morgue or the hospital or wherever just to identify her. He just couldn't.

But he did eventually forgive himself. He found himself more grateful for life. Despite it all, Robbie managed to pull his life together. It was what Estelle would have wanted. For him to grow up, grow old and maybe grow a beard. He couldn't let that memory die with her.

Zac clared his throat, grabbing Robbie's attention. "I need to get back to my wife. If I disappear again one more time this month for her appointment, she will slit my throat." Robbie's look of confusion was enough for Zac to go into his spiel. "Stella. Pregnant. Second child. By the looks of it, boy. I don't know how she can still keep her figure after our firstborn but man am I glad. But seriously...I need to go. I...it's been so good seeing you."

The animal mimic stood up and extended his hand down to his friend, pulling him up before wrapping his arms around the other man. Robbie patted his back a few times before they mutually parted ways.

"I'm glad you're okay, Robbie." Zac smiled. Returning the smile, Robbie put a hand up to wave as Zac disappeared.

Looking around for something sharp enough to cause damage, Robbie finally found a thin sliver of a rock and he started chipping away on the cave walls.

"Thank you."

Robbie inspected his scratchy wall penmanship before turning around and trekking his way back home.