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jokertrap-ran · 3 years ago

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(时空中的绘旅人—For All Time—) 司岚 SR 「欧洲纪行」 Clarence SR [Journey to Europe] Painting Story Translation: Of the Stonehenge and the Acropolis

*For All Time Master-list / Clarence’s Personal Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Card is from the [Ruins & Civilizations] series. *Yes, Clarence speaks really good English...

“Telling a story of a distant place.”

From England to Europe, he's just like a walking encyclopedia. But it's Clarence, so I suppose perfection is the norm; right?

Three weeks later, I got my Visa and started my journey to Ancient Civilization.

First, I'll fly to Europe.

The first stop will be the prehistoric site of the United Kingdom.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Regret didn't truly strike until I reached Stonehenge, and it did. Hard.

Being part of a TV Program wasn’t any sort of holiday at all; the work schedule starts the very moment we take off, and there wasn’t much time to rest either.

Starting last afternoon, we'd taken a plane to the airport in London, Heathrow, flying through the large part of the night; and then followed up with a bus ride to Wiltshire before we could even regain our bearings.

I felt a little dizzy and faint just gazing upon this large pile of rocks under the scorching rays of the sun…

▷Choice: Jet-lag sucks…

Despite having fallen asleep on the plane here, the jet lag still made me rather uncomfortable…

▷Choice: Long-distance flights suck…

The air was too stagnant for my taste, given that it was a long-distance flight. Plus, the economy-class seats were way too narrow. Hence, I didn’t sleep well at night...

Thinking about it now, Emerald had truly taken care of me well during all of my previous trips abroad. He’d buy me a flight ticket under the business-class, and even reserve plenty of time before the actual trip itself, enough so that I could recover from the jet lag.

I read the lines of the script that was to be recorded for the TV filming in a dead tone.

MC: Stonehenge is a renowned prehistoric monument made of bluestones in Europe. It was built between 4000~2000 BC, spanning an area of around 11 square meters…

Thankfully, my main job was painting. If I had to memorize this entire script, I'm afraid I'd fall asleep way before any of these words stuck to my brain…

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With that in mind, I snuck a glance over at Clarence, who was preparing to be on camera.

I heard that he'd come to Europe once during high school as an exchange student, and that his English capabilities were exceptional.

Hence, that was why he was in charge of explaining the whole story of the Ancient European Civilization.

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He listened intently to the Director's instructions, smiling as he stepped before the lens.

Clarence held an information booklet as he started delving into the explanation in front of Stonehenge.

What happened was truly something out of the realms of my expectations. Clarence had started with a paragraph of English narration.

Clarence: What can it be？

Clarence: The place was all doors and pillars, some connected above by continuous architraves.

Clarence: It is Stonehenge! Older than the centuries; older than the d'Urbervilles.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Clarence: In one of Britain's masterpieces, "Tess of the d'Urbervilles", this was the final destination of the runaway, Tess.

Clarence: The farmer girl Tess, who believed in god, laid to sleep peacefully atop the remains of the Altar built by the Druids.

Clarence: It is so solemn and lonely— after my great happiness with nothing but the sky above my face.

Clarence: It is at the very end of life, that all prayers, regrets, and pain comes to an end. Tess laid atop the Altar built by the Druids with only the sky above her head.

Clarence: That's right. This is the place where Tess had laid to sleep, entering a peaceful slumber. The people of ancient times had built their Altar here more than 2000 BC ago.

Clarence: As time passed, people started believing in the other gods and speaking other languages. Yet, the story of the vast sky that hung overhead and the towering rocks, are something that has been passed down from generation to generation...

Using "Tess of the d'Urbervilles" as an intro, Clarence delved into the main explanation of Stonehenge.

He subtly turned the topic back around, explaining the significance of Stonehenge in the histories of both architecture and astronomy alike.

He walked into the center of the stone monument as he spoke, explaining the principal axis of the pillars that made the Stonehenge. And about how the old path would fall in line with the morning sun of the summer solstice.

Meanwhile, the other two pillars paint in the direction of where the sun sets during the winter solstice.

Clarence's explanations were simple and easy to understand. It was intriguing enough that even I got enthralled by it despite how sleepy I initially felt.

Director: Amazing! Truly amazing! Your speech is way better than the script, Clarence!

Director: St. Shelter's University really did find a competent and suitable person for the job!

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I finally got the chance to talk to Clarence upon returning to the hotel in the afternoon.

He told me that he liked this whole plan about the Ancient Civilizations because he was once an exchange student here in Europe; hence, his familiarity with the European Ruins. He said that these ruins had managed to witness human civilization; and that this world only became much more interesting due to the footprints that humans leave behind.

——This view of his was similarly shared by Emerald himself.

Clarence: I was actually the one who suggested the next site to the Director and his team.

I glanced at the plane ticket.

MC: Athens, Greece…? Are we going to see the Acropolis?

▷Choice: Athens is where the European Civilization originated from!

MC: The European Civilization originated from Greek. And I heard that the Acropolis of Athens is a marvelous historical place to behold.

▷Choice: I once saw a show called “Saint X”...

MC: I once saw a show where all the Saints of X lived within a sanctuary, which happened to be the Acropolis.

MC: So, I think that the Acropolis should be a marvelous relic of history!

Clarence smiled wordlessly.

Clarence: You'll know once you get there.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After a day’s rest, we flew off towards Athens, Greece.

We then took a ferry from Piraeus Port to Rhode Island.

MC: I can’t believe that the Acropolis isn’t the historical relic of Greece… Fine. I should have known. I mean, you were smiling! But you never did reply to me...

MC: Still, how strange. What other historical remains are there on Rhode Island that are more valuable than the Acropolis itself?

Clarence: The Acropolis is indeed the largest ruin in Greece. However, I personally doubt that the ruins of civilization need to be shown through such grandeur.

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I was absolutely dumbfounded when Clarence walked right back to Rhode Island’s Port.

There was nothing else here… Other than the ordinary port and Castle erected by the later generations.

Clarence took one glance at the script before turning back up to face the cameras while explaining.

Clarence: This is Rhode Island. Standing here now, I can only see the peaceful harbor and the buildings built by the later generations.

Clarence: In 282 BC, a bronze statue of Helios, the Greek God of the Sun, was erected here. However, the statue was destroyed by an earthquake a mere 56 years later.

Clarence: Though it lasted for only a short period, it was still long enough for it to be recognized by Antipater, a traveler of the old, as one of the “Seven Wonders of the World”

Clarence explained about "Rhode Island's Sun God Statue". Based on his description, it was a colossal statue that towered at the height of 33 meters. It was made entirely out of bronze. The torch in its hand acted as a lighthouse, and its two feet, each on one end of the shore, served as the Port’s entryway.

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Based on Clarence’s descriptions of the place, I let my thoughts wander, bringing me to Ancient Europe. The grand statue seemingly reappeared before my eyes.

I raised my head to look at the statue. It stood between the blue sky and the sea, the torch in its hand blazing furiously, lighting the way for any passing ships and directing them towards the harbor...

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Clarence: After the fateful earthquake, the ruins of what remained of the God of the Sun laid there in silence for another thousand years.

Clarence: After that, Rhode Island was conquered by the Arabs, and the remains of the statue smuggled to Syria. The site of glory that was once behold became no more.

Clarence: Mankind creates miracles, yet destroys them all the same.

Clarence: We create prosperity alongside the development of Civilization, yet at the same time, we destroy what’s beautiful and well in light of our greed and desire.

I now know why he’d suggested Rhode Island instead for the filming location for the “European Civilization”.

The Acropolis was the origin of European Civilization.

However, the statue of the God of the Sun in Rhode Island tells us all, that no matter what Civilization it may be, it can all just be as easily erased by the hands of the very humans who built it.

#时空中的绘旅人 #For All Time #Otome #Translations #Netease #司岚 #Si Lan #Clarence #鳥海浩輔 #toriumi kousuke #Toriumi Kohsuke

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mothmanhamlet · 5 years ago

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Feelings are Fatal

I’ve decided to put all my fics here on tumblr, so here we go I guess

Logan is decidedly against love, but the very feeling he hates may just be his downfall.

Logince, 4231 words, Hanahaki au/High school au

Warnings: Major character death! Blood! Kinda swearing idk

Hanahaki Disease. It was just another fact of Logan’s life, the almost magical sickness that caused flowers to bloom in ones lungs as a result of unrequited love. He had to write a paper about it once, about when humans discovered it and how it affects humanity. He got a good grade on that paper, even though he didn’t understand it. Yes he understood the phenomenon, but how anyone could feel that deeply simply evaded him.

He used to pride himself on that, the fact that he always put logic and reason above emotion. It let him get good grades in every class he took, it made sure he focused, and it helped him get through high school without a hitch.

Well almost. Before he could glide through school into an Ivy League, he met Roman Prince.

Roman Prince was the resident drama star and popular kid. He was conventionally attractive, with his curly brown hair, unblemished skin, and light brown eyes. A hopeless romantic, he was dramatic and confident. He and Logan shared Literature and World History together for almost two years.

He could remember the day they first met, 2nd period English Literature. It was a rather bright room with handwritten posters plastered anywhere there was room. A giant messy whiteboard was at the front near the door with a square of desks facing it. The desks seemed to be one for every two people, an odd choice for a teacher but a completely average choice for that particular one. He remembers taking half of one in the front corner.

Once the bell rang to start class, the teacher, Mr. Picani, emerged rather ceremoniously from behind the desk. Immediately, he introduced himself and scribbled “Romeo and Juliet” on the board. From there, the class launched into a conversation about the story, most of them having already read it, which soon turned into a debate.

“It’s just so tragic, they were in love and had to die because of it, what could be sadder?” Roman announced, standing up and waving his hands around to accentuate his point.

“They knew each other for a month at best and then killed themselves, how is that a tragic love story?” Logan said with a scoff.

“How could you just say something like that about one of the greatest love stories of all time?” Roman gasped, turning his attention fully to Logan.

“Juliet was thirteen, she didn’t know what love was.”

“Oh and you would know better?”

“Actually-”

They continued their debate for almost all of class, ending with both of them literally out of their seats and yelling at each other. It was intense and probably not the best first impression. It also caused their suddenly pacifist teacher to switch around their seating, so they ended up right next to each other in a swift move Mr. Picani called the “Get-along-desk”.

For the first few months, it was a hell-scape. Their interactions were explosive, they always had different opinions and neither were willing to compromise. For a while, they just refused to talk to each other, after all it did seem like the logical move at the time. That didn’t last long, as being desk-mates meant being project partners and projects meant communication. If not for Logan’s refusal to disrupt his own learning, they probably would have been kicked out of class. Even in History they weren’t safe, somehow always ending up partnered together. Logan found it infuriating. Roman thought with his emotions, he relied on abstractions and was too stubborn to let go of them. Not to mention, arguing with him was like arguing with the personification of the Uno reverse card. Roman would say that he was the stubborn one, focusing on facts and figures exclusively. Four whole months went by and no one thought they were capable of getting along.

That was until Roman’s twin brother transferred into their class. Remus was everything Logan despised, doing everything thoughtlessly. He would place nightmarish takes on their reading, placing what ifs where they had no business being. Logan was sure he lacked the capability to take anything seriously. Roman could barely stand him too, Remus being the antithesis of him despite the fact that they shared DNA. If Logan hated Roman, he despised Remus.

So of course, when it was time to do team debates, Mr. Picani made the mistake of pairing them against Remus’ group. It didn’t matter how they felt about each other before, they were against a common enemy and needed to best him.

As rivals they were strong. As allies, they were damn near unstoppable. Every issue they had was put aside as they worked on an argument about the feminism of Pride and Prejudice. They used every second of class, discussing evidence and building upon ideas. They even went out of their way to work after class. Logan was finally able to see Roman’s strengths, how passionate he was, how driven he could be, and the creativity he had in every aspect. Sure enough, they got the highest grade in the class, and a friendship was formed. Albeit, it was uneasy and reluctant, but it was a friendship nonetheless.

Soon, unease and reluctance grew to respect. Respect grew to appreciation. After a few months, lo and behold, the get-along-desk had worked. They were not true friends, but they were doing better. They started to acknowledge points they made, even adding in some occasions. They made small talk too, Roman talking about his rehearsals or telling about another person he just had to meet (but ultimately never would). Logan would start to ramble about something he learned. It was little things like that that made their friendship.

It was mid-March when Logan noticed it. Everything had seemingly calmed down since Remus had gotten expelled for performing the macarena during an assembly for the 15th time, and he and Roman were slowly becoming at least acquaintances. They were in history class at the time, when Roman turned to him while they were working.

“European society really did peak in, like, the 1300’s huh,” Roman said nonchalantly, pointing to a knight’s uniform. Of course, Logan was annoyed with him. Somehow, he managed to forget the black plague, despite it being the focus of most of the unit. But it was a different kind of annoyance, more amusement than anything else. And of course Roman wanted to be a knight, he already had the chivalry and honor down to a tee. But he was thinking about that too much.

It was a weird sensation Logan didn’t entirely understand. He probably should have thought about it, as that would be the logical thing to do, however Roman had told him continuously that emotions were illogical and that same weird part of him wanted to listen to Roman. So instead, he ignored the feeling and lectured him on the black plague. It was easy enough to ignore.

He felt it again in English the next day, while he was reading The Picture of Dorian Gray. They weren’t required, he simply wanted to. He remembered Dorian reminding him of Roman. A little narcissistic, a bit vain, beautiful. Beautiful. His brain got stuck on that word for a while. He thought Roman was beautiful. But emotions were illogical, so he ignored it. It was easy to ignore.

It continued to be easy to ignore. Sure moments like that would pop up, more and more frequently as time went on, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter the bursts of unexplainable happiness that Logan felt when he saw Roman. It didn’t matter the times Logan lost the ability to articulate in his presence. It didn’t matter that Logan could see just how nice and charming and unique Roman was. It didn’t matter, because he could ignore it.

By the end of the year, he could safely say it was harder to ignore. What was once subtle, was now strong and demanding in his head. That was also the time Logan realized it was hopeless to even want what he now knew he wanted. Over the year, he learned that Roman was in fact, a hopeless romantic. However, the endless string of people Roman fell for had a few things in common. From what he heard, they were all emotional, dramatic, popular, and perfect. Just like Roman.

So, when the year ended, Logan did what he did best when it came to his feelings about Roman. He ignored them.

The summer passed as the summer always did. Logan did mathematics camps, biology camps, astronomy camps, anything that kept him busy and learning. It was almost boring, how routine it was. The only thing that kept nagging at him was his ‘crush’ (the others at camp had taught him the term) on Roman. It never went away as he had hoped, yet he still continued to neglect it. Unfortunately, like a wound left unattended, it would begin to fester.

The school year began, and Logan could almost remember the happiness he felt when it started again. Classes were where he found his confidence, where he was listened to and respected. He was good at school, because it let him use logic and reason generally without complication.

There was, of course, one minor problem. He was waiting in his new English class, coming off of the high that was impressing his orchestra class, as he sat down at an empty table. This teacher seemed much like his previous one, bubbly and energetic. There were more technicolor posters adorning the walls, but everything was less cartoonish. In addition to the spectacled teacher who insisted they call him by his first name, this class seemed to have a TA, a dark shadowy man who must have been a college student. Logan had to have been distracted while taking everything in, as he failed to notice someone sitting next to him.

“Hey Microsoft Nerd, ready to win English again?” Logan turned to see a smiling Roman facing him. Besides simply being startled, Logan jumped at seeing Roman again. He didn’t think Roman would actively seek him out like that.

“Roman, you cannot win English as a class, or a language for that matter, it is not a competition,” Logan said, adjusting his glasses. He forgot how pretty Roman was. It seemed his brain was at it again with this inconvenience.

“Au contraire, Pocket Protector, we can and we shall,” Roman said with a grin, his eyes lit up like candles.

So Logan had to be with Roman for another year, which was fine except for the fact that his feelings came back swifter and stronger. It was like his brain couldn’t stop noticing Roman and his smile and how he talked about the things he loved and how good he was.

He did fine, keeping it in the back of his mind, till around mid-October. That’s when he first noticed it.

He was in his bedroom, at the clean white desk doing his homework. He had a cup of tea next to him, his books in front of him, and everything in order. Standard studying procedure. He remembered taking a sip of tea and coughing violently, his lungs burning like a wildfire inside his chest. Coughing and sputtering, he remembered thinking it was the tea, that he attempted to breathe while drinking it. It wasn’t until the burning died down and he felt something soft between his teeth did he understand. Removing it, he could see how bright red it was, a thick petal with uniform teeth marks pressed into it. It had to be a poppy. Coughing again, he feels another, more curly petal. A red carnation. They looked striking on his desk, in a room of mostly neutrals and deep blues, they added color. They popped so strangely it almost hurt to look at. They were objectively beautiful, plump and bright, but what they symbolized horrified Logan. He had really fallen for him, there was no turning back, not now. There wasn't much he could do now.

Well.

Seeing as it was hopeless anyways, no one else needed to know. It was his secret, his mistake to be hidden. So, instead of telling anyone or getting a doctor or doing anything, he swept the red abominations into a little blue trash bin.

He remembered the next month at school being pretty easy, all things considered. He would go about his day as normal, minus the new addition of a water bottle for him to place the horrible beautiful petals. Roman would look at him or smile at him and his chest would ache, but he was sure it would get easier to ignore. He was very good at ignoring.

Harder than that, was explaining how his trash bin became full of scarlet, slightly damp, flower petals. It didn't completely sell him out though. No, that was a few weeks later, when he was in the middle of dinner. They sat rather quietly as usual, when Logan felt the recognizable burning in his chest, however this time was worse, feeling like lit kerosene all the way up his throat. He realized in that moment he was unprepared, no way to hide what would inevitably fall from his mouth. After a minute of wheezing, Logan looked to his plate to find a full, slightly bloodied, red carnation.

His parents stared at him with wide eyes, flitting between the plate and him. It was as if they couldn’t process what had happened. He didn’t want to tell them like this, but it was too late for that now.

“Logan, I think we should schedule a doctor’s appointment,” Logan’s dad said, clearing his throat. It was a simple announcement, one that ended the conversation as they went back into silence.

One week of mild suffering later, Logan was sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting for the doctor to come back with the results of his blood test. He didn’t know how it worked, or why they needed a blood test to determine if he had flowers in his lungs, but he decided not to question it.

The doctor came in with a serious face, as if he was about to deliver bad news and they didn’t already know the answer. He gave his parents a brochure, one with all the options they had, although there weren’t many. There were pills he could take, but they were new, expensive, and had a nasty habit of giving people cancer. There was the tried and true method of explaining your feelings in the hopes it wasn’t actually unrequited and you just thought it was. Then there was the option most people chose, the surgery. It was generally reliable and probably the safest option. It did remove your ability to feel most emotions, but to people with this kind of problem that was kind of a bonus. A security that it won’t happen again.

In the car ride back, Logan already knew what would happen. Sure, a confession would be easy, but even worse than his mild fear of humiliation was his parents’ strong fear of him getting a boyfriend. Or any romantic attachments for that matter. They were of the opinion that school and work came first and anything besides that was a distraction. He himself prided himself on a similar outlook.

“Logan, I think you should get the surgery, it may not seem ideal, but I promise you it will pay off in the end,” Logan’s mom said from the front seat of their car. It was nothing Logan didn’t expect, so he simply sat there looking out the window at the trail of cars around them.

“Ok.”

The next day of school, he was filled with a sort of relief. He would be rid of these emotions that had been annoying him for months and trying to kill him for weeks. He was more relaxed. Unfortunately, because no good thing goes unpunished, he forgot his water bottle in orchestra. Which meant, he wouldn’t have it till after his next class, which just so happened to be English.

He did alright, all things considered, until they were allowed to research for their essays. He felt a burn in the back of his throat that meant flowers were coming. He started to cough, attracting the attention of the others at his table, a blonde girl, a redhead boy, and of course Roman. The emo TA also started to look at him, which was one more step to explaining his… Condition to the class.

A solid minute of wheezing later, two bright red and bloody flowers appeared in his hand, a carnation and poppy each with some stray petals. That drew a little more attention. The teacher gave him a concerned glance, but after Logan shook his head at him, he retreated. A few straggling eyes were suddenly on him, but the ones he was focusing on were the ones sitting right next to him.

“So you do have a heart Lo,” Roman said, reaching out to touch a petal. He had to be dreaming. Roman couldn’t know. Roman wasn’t allowed to know. And Roman had many nicknames for him, but they were never his name. It was as if it were too personal. “I’m very sorry about whoever this is, and I would fight them anytime.”

Logan put on a brave face and straightened the blue tie he tended to wear. “Don’t feel too bad, I’m getting the surgery for it in a month or two.” Maybe if he didn’t look at Roman he would be better at talking about it.

“Oh, good luck then,” Roman said with a smile as Logan looked at him. He could have sworn he heard the slightest bit of sadness in his voice, but Logan was never very good with emotions.

Three weeks came and went without much notice, except for the occasional brave soul asking about his illness. Logan remembered the answers he gave to be extremely clinical, using a lot of logic for a emotions based affliction.

He sat in the doctor’s office, a cold and sterile room, waiting for the doctor to come back with his X-rays, just so they could make sure the surgery would go on as usual. His mother, sat next to him in a light colored chair, squeezed his hand.

“They’re going to fix you, don’t worry,” His mother whispered. Moments later, the doctor came back into the room, clearly trying not to look distraught.

“I’m afraid we ran into a complication,” the doctor said, looking at his mother, “Your son is extremely far along in the disease, and the roots of the flowers grew in an unfortunate place in your son’s lungs. Trying to remove them would cause extreme scarring that would inevitably lead to pulmonary fibrosis, as well as cause severe damage to the blood vessels. Not to mention the fact that his brain is still developing, which means that the alterations to his limbic system could result in abnormal developments. What this means is that your son does not have a high chance of survival, should this surgery go through. I apologize that we were not able to identify these things beforehand, and you still technically can go through with it, though I would not recommend it.”

His mother’s face fell. Logan himself could barely acknowledge what had happened, the words refusing to run through his brain. The pure cleanliness of the room became all the more oppressive, the walls were beginning to close in on him. This, Logan would remember as the beginning of the end.

The next week of school was weighted and dull. His parents started to fight about whether or not he should go on with the surgery, and every day he continued to cough more and more. His parents announced that the next week would be his last at school. It was the march of his last year at high school, it should have been the home stretch for him. In many ways it was.

His last week at school was possibly the most difficult part. He had to explain to his teachers that he would be leaving, he had to watch their faces drop as they realized why he might not come back. His English teacher, Patton as he insisted they call him, cried when he told him. He thought Logan couldn’t see him, but he was able to see the small drops of water in his eyes. Even Virgil-the-TA was a little sadder. He decided no one else would know, if he could help it. Except Roman. As much as he hated the thought of telling him, Roman was his friend, technically his only friend. He deserved to know, Logan decided. He deserved to know everything, or at least a shortened version of it.

Soon, it was Friday. His last day of school went without much fanfare, besides his teachers becoming sentimental. He had also neglected to tell Roman, effectively waiting until the last possible moment. It neared the end of English class, and Logan was prepared. When they were allowed to talk, he turned to face Roman.

“Roman, I’m going to be away from school for a while and do not know when I’ll be back, or even if I will return,” Logan said in his usual directness. It was… Odd talking about his likely death. “So if this is the last time we ever speak, I just wanted to tell you that I-” No. He couldn’t do it. Roman would blame himself for it, and Logan refused to put that on him. Roman didn’t deserve to blame himself for this. For him. “I always thought of you as a friend. A best friend I suppose.”

Roman looked at him with a mixture of shock and sadness. “Logan I li-” Roman said quickly before pausing, letting out a sigh. “Logan, I’m glad I could be your friend. A best friend.”

And that was it. Logan got on with the rest of his day, and went home.

That lead Logan to where he was now, around three weeks later. He was sat in the chair in his room, as usual, reading a book. It was Astrophysics for People in a Hurry, and he had read it hundreds of times. He always wanted to study space. The pristine whites and grays of his bedroom were tinged red from coughing fits in the middle of the day. Flowers could be spotted in the corners of his room, the only mess in his neat space. It used to feel comfortably organized, now feeling distant and damaged. Nevertheless, he essentially lived in his room, no reason to go outside when he was going to die anyways. No reason to leave his room when his parents were always fighting about him. They were still considering surgery, or at least his father was.

He felt another cough rise in his lungs. He had almost gotten used to the pain. Slowly stumbling up and to the trash can, he choked through the pain. He could feel the warmth claw its way up his throat, burning. Moments later, he could see two blood-soaked flowers, a poppy and carnation perfectly intact, stem and all. But they didn’t stop. A stream of blood followed, nearly filling his mouth, staining his lips and teeth red. In that moment, he realized just how little time he had left.

He turned over to the light switch, turning it off, then closing the drapes to his window. In the darkness he walked over to his perfectly made bed, and lied down. He could stare at the childish glow-in-the-dark stars he had placed up there, simply because they looked nice. He simply laid in the silence, staring at his own stars.

They say that before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. But a flash was the wrong word. No, Logan felt every moment leading up to this wash over him in a wave. Every mistake, every choice. He wondered if things could have been different. Maybe if he had never argued that first day, if he had never talked to Roman Prince, maybe he could have avoided all of this. He could have been on his way to a college, then to a job, and to a life. But it was too late for that. It was too late for him. It was almost over and he had lost.

Logan stared at the stars in thought. Soon, he lost track of time. He didn’t know how long he waited there before his vision started to blur. His vision started to fade, going darker and darker till he was staring into the face of the void. He felt his body lose the warmth it once contained, his energy dissolving. Despite it all, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, fighting for his life. Soon, it too gave up, slowing and stilling. He felt a soft pain surrounding his body, dulling his senses to numbness. Through the ache in his chest his breathing slowed. He gave out a small cough and a sharp breath in. As he released the breath, he felt himself let go. He released himself to the icy nothingness moving in on his brain. He couldn’t hear or see or feel anymore. He was still and detached and nothing anymore. He was finally gone.

#logince #major character death #mild blood and gore #hanahaki #sanders side fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #angst #sanders sides

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megwritesfanfiction · 6 years ago

Text

KWP - Supernova (BNHA, Kacchako)

Disclaimer: I do not own Boku No Hero Academia. I am not making a profit off of this.

A/N: Okay, Kirishima is becoming too fun to write...

This prompt continues: First Days Fragile Roses Rematch

AO3

“Dude…”

Bakugo sighed, jaw clenched as his hands tightened around his coffee mug. “I really didn’t take a three hour train ride to listen to you bust my balls,” he grumbled.

“Just…” Kirishima shook his head, folding his arms in front of his chest as he looked at his friend in disappointment. “How can I not bust your balls?”

The blonde scowled sinking further into his seat. He set his eyes to the window next to him, watching strangers disappear down the sidewalk. Bakugo couldn’t even argue with him.

“You didn’t kiss her!” Kirishima exclaimed, slamming his fists against the table. “I’m pretty sure the purpose of your three hour train ride is for me to bust your balls.” It had been about a week since the school year had ended, and Kirishima had been more than surprised when his hot headed friend decided to pay him a visit.

Technically, Bakugo’s train wide was two hours and thirty minutes. “Can you drop it?!”

“No,” Kirishima stated with an unsure shrug. “Isn’t that the reason you’re here for me to talk some sense into you?” Oh how the tables had turned.

Bakugo’s teeth ground together as a ragged hiss escaped him, “How the hell was I supposed to know she wanted me to kiss her?” What else was he supposed say? He couldn’t say he was here to hangout. For a moment, he considered telling the red head he was sick of dealing with his parents, but even that excuse felt weak at this point.

Honestly, Bakugo hadn’t planned on telling Kirishima about the missed kiss. He wasn’t sure how they’d started talking about it. Kirishima had mentioned something about school. The subject of school lead to their class. Talking about class lead to the subject of Uraraka.

Before Bakugo knew it, he was telling him about what happened during their sparring match.

How their match ended with him pinning her to the ground.

Not kissing her.

“From what you told me,” Kirishima cast him a small sorry-not-sorry frown. “You should have known.”

Bakugo growled.

“Dude, she got you chocolate for Valentine’s Da-“

“She got some for Deku, too,” Bakugo spat venomously.

“You also got her flowers that she happily took and then invited you to dinner after.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes huffing, “It was the cafeteria.”

“You all have been hanging out more since White’s Day!”

They really hadn’t hung out at all prior to White’s Day. “Tch.”

“Look, man up,” the redhead insisted, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

Bakugo tightened his arms in front of his chest, eyes narrowing murderously.

“You can look at me all pissy with your stank face if you want to, but I’m right,” Kirishima insisted, giving a hard glare of his own. “I get that it’s hard for you to embrace your feelings. And, you’re one of those ‘I’mma bite you before you can bite me’ hot tempered people. I get it, dude.”

“Are you finished, Freud?” Bakugo was suddenly regretting mentioning what had happened in the gym

“You’re an asshole.”

He wasn’t wrong, but… “Fuck you, shitty hair!”

“But, you’re not a bad person,” Kirishima told him. “Underneath that bundle of rage, repressed emotions, fowl language-“

“I get it! I have issues!”

“You’re a good guy,” the redhead told him seriously. “And if you keep hesitating and playing games, you won’t have chance with her.”

Bakugo sighed, exhaling some of the rage bubbling inside him, “So, what the hell do I need to do?”

That was probably as close to “Okay, you’re right” Kirishima would ever hear from him. “Ask her out.”

“Where?”

“Lunch, dinner…” Kirishima shrugged. “What does she like besides food?”

“She likes…” Bakugo’s lips twisted as he stared blankly in front of him. Why the hell was this hard? “Pink, mochi, stars…”

“So take her to dinner and go look at stars.”

“Really?”

“You asked for my advice.”

“I’m suddenly regretting it,” Bakugo huffed, running a tired hand over his face.

“I’m telling you,” Kirishima insisted. Placing his hands to his hips, he allowed a wide grin to overtake his face. “Take her to dinner, get some mochi, and go find a spot to look at stars. Find some constellations, planets, the moon, some supernovas, an-“

“How the hell are we supposed to find a supernova?!”

“Figure it out. You’re missing the point-“

Bakugo was pretty sure Kirishima must have missed the whole astronomy unit they’d taken this past year.

“The point is you need to ask her out! Dinner, mochi, and a supernova.” The redhead nodded proudly. “Keep it simple.”

“If we are able to see a supernova, that would probably kill the mood and us, you moron,” Bakugo informed as he pulled out his phone. “Not so romantic.”

“Whatever.” Kirishima snickered, “Then make sure she sees exploding stars behind her eyes when you kiss her this time.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t. You totally love me. You can say it.”

Bakugo snarled, pulling up Uraraka’s phone number, “No.”

“Well, I’m manly enough to admit it.”

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

“I love you too, bro,” Kirishima grinned, leaning over to tap his friend’s hand and ignoring the warning growl. “So, what are you going to say?”

Why was the hell was he friends with this idiot?

“Dude, don’t tell me you’re texting her?”

“I swear to god,” Bakugo mumbled, slamming his phone on the table. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, “Call her.”

“What?! Why!?”

“You don’t send a text message to ask a girl out. Trust me.”

No. No way. Not ever. No.

Kirishima snatched his phone, quickly pushing the button to call Uraraka and setting it on speaker. “This is your moment!” He slid the phone across the table with a grin. “I believe in you!”

“What the hell!?” Bakugo panicked hearing the ringing. “What did you do!?” He hissed.

“Hello?”

Kirishima pointed at the phone. “Answer it!” He mouthed pointing at the phone.

“Hello?”

Fuck. Goddamn it. Shit. Bakugo quickly picked up the phone, glaring daggers at his friend across from him, “Hello.”

“Bakugo?”

Why the hell did she sound so surprised? “Yeah. What’s up?”

Kirishima shook his head, brows wrinkling in confusion. “Really?” He mouthed. “Not manly! Did you think to try ‘How are you’ or-“

“I’m well. Just enjoying our time off. How are you doing?”

Bakugo pointed a warning finger at him. “I’m alright,” he spoke in the phone. “I was wondering…”

“Yeah…?”

“Yeah…?” Kirishima whispered giving a bright smile and two thumbs up.

“Did you want to hangout sometime this week?”

“Of course.” Her voice was soft and excited. “What did you wanna do?”

“I mean, you didn’t officially ask her out, but,” Kirishima mouthed. “Good job, man. Proud of you!” His hands clapped together quietly as he continued listening.

That idiot was a dead man.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“I’m happy you called me,” Uraraka smiled, turning her head to face him as she stretched out against the grass. Her hands rested against her stomach, heels clicking together before she looked back up to the stars. “I’m kinda surprised you did.”

Bakugo frowned, turning to face her, “Why?”

“You don’t strike me as a person who calls people,” she shrugged innocently as her eyes traced random dashes between stars. “I figured you were more of a text message person.”

He was.

“But, I’m glad you called,” she repeated, grin widening as she turned to him once more. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“Tch, I don’t mind.” If he could deal with train ride to see hair for brains, Bakugo could withstand the three hour ride to Suzuka.

“I could’ve met you halfway, you know.”

“I already told you I don’t mind.” There was an irrational nagging part of his brain that didn’t like the idea of her taking the train alone at night despite the fact that Bakugo knew Uraraka could hold her own.

He’d seen that girl lift twice her body weight and had experienced her fury.

He knew she could take care of herself, but couldn’t shake worrying about her.

“I had to take the train to get here anyway,” she smirked.

“Well, next time I’ll come to your town.”

The thought of next time made her heart skip a beat. “There’s not as much to do there,” she shrugged a little.

“Because we did so much today,” he scoffed with a little smirk.

“We did!” Uraraka cheered. “We had ramen, went walking, got mochi and now,” she drawled, poking his shoulder. “We are stargazing.”

It was honestly the best afternoon he had in awhile. “I’m sure we could do those things outside of Tsu.” His fingers dug into the grass as he sighed.

“I’m sure we could do those things in Tokyo, too,” she whispered, curling her fingers into his hoodie and giving it a little tug as she looked at him grinning.

“We can.” They would.

Uraraka rolled to her side, resting her forearm underneath her face as her other arm stretched out between them, “I wish there were more stars though.”

“You mean you wish there were less lights,” he smirked, turning to face her.

“Whatever gets me more stars.” She grinned as her knuckles brushed against his palm. Uraraka scooted closer to him as she tilted her face to meet his gaze.

“We’ll have to go the mountains then,” Bakugo told her softly. “A lot less light pollution.”

Uraraka sat up, leaning over him. She tentatively brought a hand to his face as she glanced down into red eyes. “You’ll take me sometime?” She whispered moving closer to him.

He nodded, swallowing loudly at the weight of her eyes.

“We’ll have a picnic?”

“Of course,” he breathed quietly, staring at her mouth. Bakugo never found himself hesitating until he found himself caught in her eyes. The sound of his heartbeat thudded in his ears as one of her hands tentatively crawled up his chest.

What the hell was he so afraid of?

Her lips curled into a slow smirk. Soft brown eyes falling at half mast.

He panted softly against her lips, paralyzed.

“Yeah,” she leaned down, brushing her nose against his.

Bakugo leaned up closing the distance between their lips.

Crawling to her knees, she cradled his face in her hands as they slowly moved away from each other. “You kissed me,” she murmured against his lips with a small smile.

“I did.” He sat up a little, touching one her hands resting against this cheek.

“About time,” Uraraka grinned as a soft laugh escaped her lips.

His eyes narrowed playfully, pressing their foreheads together, “Don’t start with me, cupcake.”

“What?” She whispered innocently, eyes shining.

“You know exactly what.” Bakugo placed another kiss to her lips. Pressing a little longer this time as he savored the feeling of his nerves dissolving.

She giggle into the kiss, tracing her fingertips to his hair. “I think,” she murmured. “I think we definitely need more stars.”

“I’ll do you one better,” Bakugo promised capturing her lips once more.

He’d show her a supernova.

#kwp #Kacchako Positivity Week #KacchakoPositivityWeek #kacchako #kacchako fanfiction #uraraka ochako #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x uraraka

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r5h · 6 years ago

Text

Little Witch Academia: Falling Stars

EPISODE 2: HOW TO MEET YOUR HEROES (PART 1)

AO3 LINK

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

NEXT CHAPTER

The dragon swooped down low over the students assembled in the Great Hall, and they screamed with fear.

But Chariot stood proud upon the stage. “Noctu Orfei! Audin Fraetor!” Her wand transformed into a magnificent bow, and she pulled the drawstring back. “Shiny… Arc!”

The arrow shot forward, piercing the dragon. It swelled comically, then exploded into a shower of lights, and the witches below cheered. All of them, even the ones who’d looked unimpressed at the start.

“Never forget,” she declared, “to believe in yourself! That is your magic!” She wove her wand again and disappeared into a vortex of light, which swirled away to nothing.

“Well, well, that was truly splendid!” Headmistress Holbrooke called out. “Let’s all give a big round of applause to one of our most famous and beloved teachers, Professor Chariot, for making this a very special convocation ceremony!”

The sound of clapping hands crashed like thunder.

Behind the curtain, Chariot sucked in huge breaths through gritted teeth. Her head was light, her eyes wide and strained, and she sagged to the ground against a nearby wall. All those people—missing their magic—

Shut up, she told herself. It wasn’t real, not this time.

But her blood pounded all the same, mingling with the cheers, the screams. She saw their smiling faces, saw little lights coming out of their chests—lights being stolen from their hearts, burning up—

“Pulse: elevated.”

Her head whipped up to see the floating red disk, whirring at her eye level. Out of it came a voice that was human, though still clipped. Sharp enough to cut through all the pounding. “Breathing: fast, irregular, increasingly shallow. Pupils: dilated. Diagnosis: panic attack.”

A hologram burst out from the top of the disk: Professor Croix, with her usual red cloak bundled around her. She was reading some sort of translucent display, but after a moment she waved it away. “These droids can be awfully redundant sometimes.”

Chariot tried to force a laugh, but it came out as more an exhalation. “Croix.” These rapid breaths were still coming.

“You did great.” Croix flashed her a smile. Light flickered across her face, suggesting she was near a fire. “It’s okay. No one got hurt, no Dream Fuel Spirits stole anyone’s magic. Not even actually using the Shiny Rod, just stage trickery. You did great. Deep breaths.”

Another flying roomba hovered close and beeped in a reassuring way. Chariot clutched it to her torso. It was comfortingly hot to the touch, and Chariot felt her breathing slowing down, if only a little. This felt real.

“Is that helping?” Croix asked, kneeling and leaning forward, her disk hovering closer. “It ought to be helping.”

“Yes. Yes it is.” Chariot took a shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow. “I can’t believe I let Headmistress Holbrooke talk me into this. I swore I’d never do another show, not after….”

“The moon?” Croix stood up and walked away, though her disk remained stationary, as though she were on a treadmill. She pushed open the flap of, presumably, a tent, and looked out at what had to be the sky—not that Chariot could see that through the hologram. “You know,” Croix said slowly, “I think I like it better this way.”

“Stop.” Blood pounding, hard enough she could hear it. Or was that the applause?

“I mean, the United States government is still furious with you for knocking over the flag, but that’s not exactly illegal. I think.” Croix shrugged. “Then again, what do I know about law? No one’s pressed charges against me yet.”

“Stop!” Chariot said, biting on her tongue.

Croix’s demeanor instantly changed from confidence to fear. “I’m sorry! I thought we were bantering! I…. Your show was great. Sorry to bring that up.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Chariot shook her head and forced herself to stand up. Still clutching the second disk to herself, she walked toward the back of the backstage and pulled open the drapes.

The moon greeted her, huge in the sky. The moon she’d put a scar in ten years ago. How hilarious: all those years, she’d dreamed of making her mark….

And she had made it, she reminded herself, clutching the disk tight. Akko and Diana were in the audience, and they’d cheered loudest of all. The school had more students now than in the previous thousand years. Magic was back.

“It was a good show,” she murmured to herself. Next to her, Alcor flew in and landed on the sill, and she patted him on the head. He felt real too.

Croix’s disk floated over beside her. Croix smiled, looking her in the eye.

“Where are you?” Chariot asked, smiling back, fighting down the panic and winning for once. “Last time we talked you were in Egypt, and then I got caught up preparing for the convocation… I wish I could have made more time these past few days to chat.”

“It wouldn’t have been that interesting anyway. I haven’t made much progress, I’m afraid.” Croix’s sigh quavered as she shivered. “And the Arabian desert, since you asked. These nights can get cold.”

Chariot hugged the warming disk a little closer to her body, and laughed a little. “Physician, heal thyself.”

“Good idea, but I want to conserve my droids’ power out here as much as possible.” Croix’s hologram flickered. She walked back toward the fire in her tent and sat down, wrapping her cloak tighter around herself. “Even after Yggdrasil came back, there’s some places where magic’s still thin on the ground, and I’ve walked into a dead zone here.”

“You know you don’t have to do this for me, right?” Chariot said, staring out the window. “I love that you are, but… you know I don’t resent you for any of it anymore. Not the Shiny Rod, not the Dream Fuel Spirit, not Wagandea. That’s all in the past.”

“Thanks, but that’s nonsense.” Croix sat cross-legged, her chin resting on her hands as her elbows pressed on her legs. She stared into the fire in front of her. “The past doesn’t stay in the past. It just keeps going until it becomes the present. You haven’t forgiven yourself either, have you?”

Chariot had no reply there. She just kept staring out the window, out at the cross-scarred moon.

“Yeah. So I’m going to find a cure for your curse.”

“While traveling the world. And continuing to be a professor at the most prestigious magical academy in Europe.” Chariot shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

“And making time to chat, don’t forget.” Croix looked up and winked.

“When do you sleep?”

“I don’t need much.”

“You mean you don’t get much.” Chariot rolled her eyes and turned to Croix. “It’s after midnight where you are, isn’t it, Croix? Get some rest.”

She leaned in for a hug, but the hologram fizzled as Chariot’s arms went right through it. After a moment to realize, she pulled away, and looked down. “Sorry,” she said. “I… wish you were here.”

“I’ll always be there for you.” Croix smiled, and tapped the ground at her side. “And here for you, too. Isn’t modern magic great?”

“Only as great as the witch using it.” Chariot put on another smile. “Good night, Croix.”

“Good night, Chariot.” Croix reached to her side and grabbed a cup of ramen; then the hologram fizzled out. The disk which had been projecting it floated away.

Chariot sighed and looked out at the moon again, still holding Croix’s other disk in a hug. The moon was beautiful. It was the same moon Croix could see, thousands of miles away.

For a moment, something else in the sky caught her gaze, and she frowned. Something about the arrangement of the stars….

Then she yawned, and turned away from the window. Alcor hopped onto her shoulder as she walked. She was tired, and classes were tomorrow and she hadn’t even eaten yet. Time for an early dinner and an early bed.

“Char, get up!”

“Nnnnn. Too early….”

“It is eight o’clock in the morning, which is a perfectly reasonable time for any young witch to wake. So get up!”

“Go away. Let me die here.”

“Not funny!”

Mani and Tiff each grabbed one of Char’s arms and heaved her up—from the bottom bunk. She had demanded Tiff switch with her the previous night, with some explanation about gravitational potential energy, and from there there had been a general reshuffling. Tiff had gotten the top bunk, and Mani had the large bed.

Char moaned, then glanced at the sun streaming through the window and hissed like a vampire. “Put me back.”

“Magical Astronomy is in an hour, and we need to eat first. So no, we will not put you back.” Tiff shook herself and released Char, who at least wasn’t trying to fall back into bed. Apparently, trying to snooze wasn’t worth fighting Mani and Tiff.

“Fine.” Char yawned widely. “Getting changed.”

“We’ll turn around,” Tiff said. Mani dutifully did so.

“Meh. Don’t care.”

“We’re doing it anyway.”

To her credit, Char didn’t take much longer than five minutes to get dressed. However, that was still five minutes of Tiffany standing awkwardly with her back to the bunkbed, which at least gave her time to look around half of the room.

She squinted. The room was obviously constructed in a classical style, to match the rest of the school. The Shooting Star rested upright against the wall in one corner, having returned from its flight sometime last night. The shelf by the window was filled with the books Mani and Tiff had unpacked—Char had done no such thing. Overall, it all looked as she’d expected… and yet.

She wasn’t sure how to articulate it, but the room lacked the sense of age the rest of the building had. Somehow the walls seemed too clean, the windows too clear—not the cleanness of having been cleaned, but of never having been dirty. It was like a new car.

“If I didn’t know better,” she said, walking out of the room with Mani and Char in tow, “I’d say this whole wing was built within the last year.”

“Good eye! Construction finished a week ago.”

The voice was disembodied but familiar. Tiff looked around, but no other witches were in the corridor around them. “They really had to rush the new dorms,” the voice continued, “what with the influx of first-years this time. Up here! Hi!”

Tiff glanced up and saw a mouse. A mouse with bangs and a half-do. “Gah!” Tiff yelled.

The mouse grinned with buck-teeth, then hopped down. One burst of smoke later, and Akko was standing before them, hands on her hips. “Don’t do that!” Tiff blurted.

“And good morning to you too!” Akko rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same. “I was wondering, do you need help finding the Great Hall for breakfast?”

“Why would we?” Mani asked.

Akko shrugged. “The last couple groups needed it. Come on, follow me!”

Or maybe, Tiffany thought but did not say, they just didn’t have the heart to say no. Yet she was walking behind Akko anyway, as she led them with the enthusiasm of a parade conductor, so apparently Tiff didn’t have the heart either.

“Is the Shooting Star around?” Akko asked, turning a corner. “I was wondering if I’d have a chance to say hi. Not like it would say hi back, but we’ve got a history, y’know?”

“It’s resting in our room. Maybe even brooms need sleep.” Tiff frowned. “You were chosen by the Shooting Star, weren’t you?”

“More or less, but it didn’t stick around for the afterparty. Which is a shame, since it was a really nice afterparty. We had cake! I guess it wasn’t hungry.” Akko chuckled, although Tiff felt like her little joke didn’t even merit a groan. “In any case, I have no idea why it’s so interested in you. Any ideas?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” Tiff sighed. “Never mind.”

“Well, I know someone who might know, and she’s basically the smartest and greatest witch of all time… but you’ve got classes first.”

They came to a spiral staircase and descended it. From there, it was only a minute’s brisk walk before they were at the great hall, yet Char was already grumbling behind them about the exertion. Tiff rolled her eyes and strode forward.

A blonde-green-haired witch glanced up as they approached the dining area. “Is that the last of them, Akko?”

“Think so, yeah. Morning, Diana!”

Tiff’s jaw dropped. The image flashed into her head once more: two witches, standing atop the Shooting Star, firing a giant bow at a magical missile. Akko had been one and this—this was the other. “Diana Cavendish,” she mumbled.

And then, as Akko leaned in and kissed Diana on the cheek, she wished she hadn’t dropped her jaw all the way to start out. She needed some way to escalate.

“You two—” she stuttered.

“Akko,” Diana said, blushing, “not in front of people, please.”

“Aww, but that’s the best part of dating!” Akko pouted, and then turned to the trio. “May I introduce my lovely girlfriend, Diana.”

Tiffany made up her mind and stuck out her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Miss Cavendish. They say you’re the best student in the history of Luna Nova!” Then she squinted: Diana seemed to have mouthed the last few words as Tiff said them. “I suppose you must get that a lot,” Tiff added, grinning nervously.

“Well, it’s true, in fairness.” Diana’s voice was even, without a hint of arrogance. She was stating a fact: no more, no less. Then she smiled, and took Tiff’s outstretched hand. “Well, it was true, once upon a time. It’s very nice to meet you, miss….”

“Tiffany Vandergard!”

“Ah, from the Vandergard family in New York.”

“New Amsterdam,” Tiff muttered before she could stop herself. Char sniggered behind her, and she felt heat rush to her face.

Diana’s polite expression didn’t falter. “Well, I’m sure you know best. I won’t keep you from your meal. Enjoy your first day of classes.” She took Akko’s hand in hers, with the unconscious ease of someone slipping their hand into their pocket, and walked away.

Which meant Tiff didn’t have to maintain her composure. “Cavendish!” she hissed, whipping around to face Char and Mani. “We just met Diana Cavendish! I mean, the family was on the wane in recent years, goodness knows, but she’s brought the name back in a big way!” She heaved a deep breath. “Oh, I think I need to sit down.”

“Cheers to that,” Char said, flopping into a chair at the nearest unoccupied table.

Mani sighed. “I’ll get you two some rolls.”

Tiff just breathed deeply. Diana was something like a household name in the magical community: not only a spellcasting prodigy, but an incredible flier. She’d certainly proved her mettle in the worldwide broadcast on the day of Starfall, deftly maneuvering her broom through a hailstorm of missile-fire. It looked like trying to dodge rain, and she’d come out dry.

Tiff forced another breath, and pulled out her schedule. First up on the list was Magical Astronomy, with… Professor Chariot, of all people. As in, that Chariot. This was going to be one star-studded morning.

“Aw, man,” Char said, glancing at her schedule in turn. “I don’t have any classes with the fish.”

“The fish?”

“Yeah, I don’t know her name.”

“Then how do you know you don’t have any classes with her?”

Char considered this, tapping a finger to her lip. “Good point. Oh, hey,” she added, leaning toward Tiff. “We’ve got most of the same classes. Magic Astronomy, Numerology… oh, this one’s weird.” She tapped the block on her schedule that came after midday break. “What’s Modern Magic, and who’s Professor Croix?”

“I haven’t the faintest.” Croix… the name pinged something in Tiff’s brain, some small cluster of neurons, but nothing came of it.

Mani returned, carrying breakfast for them. Tiff couldn’t help but notice that while Mani had piled her own plate high, she and Char only had a roll and a slice of butter each. “A little unbalanced, don’t you think?” Char asked, eyeing her roll.

“I don’t know what either of you like.” Mani set to cutting up her bacon. “If you’re hungry, go get something yourselves.”

“Fair.” Char shrugged, and went at her roll with gusto. “Rrrrrr,” she said through a mouthful of bread, groaning like a zombie. “Grains.”

Tiff rolled her eyes. Then she glanced up: the eye-roll had caught a flicker of movement near the ceiling.

“Maps here! Getcha maps here! Brawk!”

Mani squeaked and dove under the table at the sudden noise.

It was Akko, of course. She’d metamorphosed into some sort of large bird that Tiff didn’t immediately recognize—possibly an oversized toucan, but most toucans didn’t have bangs—and was flying around the room, dropping leaflets on the students below. Tiffany watched one flutter down to her table: on it was a detailed floorplan of Luna Nova, enchanted with a glowing red dot in the great hall. Tiff frowned, then grabbed the map and waved it around her head a little: the dot jittered accordingly.

Had Akko come up with this enchantment?

“Atsuko Kagari!”

Tiff’s head spun around at the harsh sound, which resonated like a gunshot. The teacher it came from seemed to have been born at middle-age, she wore it so well. “Need I remind you that there is no flying allowed indoors? And that includes under your own power, in case you’re thinking of being clever!”

“Sorry, Professor Finnelan! Brawk!” Akko the parrot flapped down toward a table—the one Diana was sitting at, incidentally—and perched upon it. A puff of smoke erupted, and Akko the human was crouched on the table in a similar pose, grinning. Diana rolled her eyes.

“I thought you were making an effort to be more responsible!” Professor Finnelan grimaced suddenly—distinct from her earlier frown in its intensity—and clutched her stomach. “Ugh, my ulcer is acting up again.”

“Sorry, Professor,” Akko said, a lot more contritely. “Do you need anything?”

“I need you to get off that table!”

Tiffany turned away and attacked her breakfast. This was the witch she’d thought was the greatest she’d ever seen? A girl who couldn’t go five minutes without getting in trouble at school, and saw nothing wrong with waiting outside a bedroom shapeshifted into a mouse.

A witch like that couldn’t possibly be the greatest ever, could she?

“Welcome, to the—of—nomy!”

The redheaded teacher winced. She detached a microphone from the neckline of her dress, turned a little dial on it, and spoke into it once more. “WELCOME, TO THE WORLD OF ASTRONOMY!”

Tiff and the rest of the class covered their ears at the shriek of feedback. Grimacing, the teacher took the microphone and tossed it on the floor to her side, producing another bunch of dull thuds from unseen speakers. “Well, I’ll have to talk to Professor Croix about this microphone experiment of hers, but in the meantime, I’ll just project my voice like normal. Welcome, to the world of….” She sighed. “Oh, you know.”

Tiff squinted. The teacher had introduced herself as Chariot, and her hair was the right color, but… apart from that, she couldn’t imagine anyone being more opposite. Shiny Chariot was as eye-grabbing as a fireworks show, whereas Professor Chariot was as eye-grabbing as a slow-motion car crash.

Maybe there’s a potion she drinks, like Dr. Jekyll, Tiff mused. Maybe she actually transforms for the show. Maybe she has a twin.

“So!” Professor Chariot said, smiling nervously. This seemed to be the only way she could do anything. “Obviously, before you can do Magical Astronomy, you’ll have to master the basics of plain old, boring, Astronomy. Except it’s not boring!” she added, quickly, as if someone was about to give up on the class right then. “It’s very interesting, or at least I’ll do my best to make it as interesting as it should be. As it is!”

Char was wincing beside her. It was a long, slow wince, and it seemed Char was willing to draw it out all class long. “Self esteem issues, much?” she whispered.

Tiff grumbled to herself as Professor Chariot waved a wand, and sheets of paper flew out from her desk among the students. As they landed on the desks, Tiffany saw they were worksheets. “So let’s start by, um… filling these out! Just as well as you can, so I can get a sense of the class’s aptitude.” Chariot was tapping her fingers together. “You have fifteen minutes, feel free to start.”

Planets, and a star chart for naming constellations. The planets were a cakewalk, and although she wasn’t a hundred percent certain about the constellations, she was pretty sure about half of them and reasonably confident in her guesses for the others. She sighed and flipped her paper over after only about five minutes, then reclined in her chair.

Nothing quite like a pop quiz at the beginning of class to make astronomy “interesting”.

After ten tedious minutes, a bell rang. “All right, time’s up,” Chariot said, and waved her wand. The worksheets flew her way. “And, just remember, this isn’t being graded,” she said, glancing at them as they approached. “It’s just my way of gauging where the class is with respect to knowing their cosmology.”

“Wasn’t done,” Char muttered, slouching over her desk.

The papers shuffled, floating, in front of Chariot. Her frown grew frownier with each one. “Mmm. Some standouts, but….” She shook her head. “Could you all do something else for me? Close your eyes.”

Tiffany closed hers dutifully, but squinted even so under her eyelids.

“Raise your hand if you’re from a non-magical family, or if you didn’t have magic until very recently.”

Around Tiffany, she heard the sound of many hands being raised. It sounded like more than half the class.

“That makes sense. Drop your hands, and open your eyes.” Tiff opened hers to see Chariot smiling. “Well, it’s quite all right if you don’t know the constellations already. This is a school, after all!”

She chuckled, and some of the students chuckled back, but without humor in their voices. Tiffany glanced around, and saw… well, it was like what she’d seen in her dorm, now that she was paying attention. The students all looked proper enough on the surface, but there were signs. Subtle slips in presentation, in how they wore their robes or carried themselves. There were a lot of newbies here.

“Not to mention, some of my greatest students started from the bottom,” Chariot continued. She tapped a piece of chalk with her wand, and it flew into the air and started sketching out a rough Copernican system. “So we’ll begin by going over the planets!”

Tiff suppressed a groan. If there was any way to make non-magical astronomy fun and interesting, then she was sure that spending a week recapping “Baby’s First Solar System” was not it.

It was going to be a long forty-five minutes.

Tiff snorted. “I still think it’s her twin, or something. No way was that Shiny Chariot.”

She trudged along the hallway. Mani and Char were in tow behind her. “I thought she was nice,” Mani said, “and she’s definitely a pretty good teacher—”

“In what universe?” Tiff rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe there’s people in that class who don’t know the planets. And she’s accommodating them!”

Char cleared her throat with a meaningful look. Tiffany stared at her. “Oh, not you too.”

“I forgot whether Pluto is one or not, okay? Cut me some slack.”

“Pluto is absolutely a planet,” Tiff said.

Mani raised her eyebrow. “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure it isn’t anymore….”

“Maybe to non-witches it isn’t, but in magical circles Pluto is still the ninth planet!”

“There are actually multiple schools of thought about the subject,” a fourth voice cut in. Tiffany glanced to her right, saw Diana walking next to them, and tried not to vibrate with excitement. Diana didn’t glance at them, just kept power-walking forward with the gait of someone with somewhere to be.

Tiffany had somewhere to be, too: wherever Diana was going. She hurried forward as Diana continued, “Since the non-magical International Astronomical Union decided it wasn’t a planet, and discovered multiple objects in the solar system with similar mass, a number of different astrological factions have emerged.”

She smiled as Tiff stared, looking at her for the first time. “Sorry to butt in, but your discussion was interesting. Might I recommend ‘The Case for Eris’ as a treatise about the ongoing debate on the matter? I know the library has a copy.”

“Thank you,” Tiff breathed.

“Not a problem. Enjoy your day.” With another flashed smile, she turned down a corner. Tiff stopped at the implied dismissal and watched her leave. The girl was the definition of grace, the personification of poise, the….

“Hey, Tiff. You’re kinda standing in the middle of the hallway.”

Tiffany blinked, and glanced behind her to see the myriad students she was blocking from walking through the intersection. She blushed and hurried forward.

“These are the lunar runes which have been used by witches since ancient times.” Professor Finnelan waved her wand, and row upon row of runes appeared on the blackboard behind her. “Can anyone here read the segmental script?”

Tiffany squinted. She was sure she’d seen this somewhere before, but… maybe if she had some time….

“Anyone? No?” Professor Finnelan sighed, and recited, “‘Bless the one who lets this stone remain untouched. Woe betide the one who moves it.’ It’s the inscription on the tomb of Scarlette, the Third Olde Witch.” Finnelan frowned. “I suppose we can’t have a Diana every year.”

“Of course Diana got it,” Tiff whispered, staring.

“Of course,” Char repeated with a yawn. “Little miss perfect.”

“She’s taller than you.”

“Big miss perfect.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being perfect. In fact, by definition—”

“Miss Vandergard and Miss Jones!” Finnelan’s voice was startling, like being interrupted by a fire alarm. “Feel free to continue your discussion after class, but here, we learn.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Tiff declared, and with a sharp nod she got back to her notes. This was exactly right. This was exactly what a professor should be. No guff, no chatter, just leadership.

“I like Chariot better.”

“What?” Tiff dropped her fork just as she was about to start eating, and glared at Char, who was leaning in her chair with her legs on the table. “She’s only better at stuttering! Professor Finnelan has all the competency Chariot lacks.”

“And she’s boring,” Char said, yawning halfway through.

“She’s direct! The subject itself is interesting! And get your feet off the table!”

“Chariot tries, though.”

“Tries and fails.” Tiff turned to face Mani. “Back me up on this, okay? Chariot’s a decent entertainer, I’ll grant her that, but who decided she ought to be a teacher?”

“I… think they both have their strong points?” Tiff hadn’t noticed before, but it was obvious now: Mani was squirming in her chair. “I wouldn’t say one is… better than the other, but….”

“All right, Mani?” Char leaned forward. “This isn’t that painful an argument, right?”

“No, it’s… I have to….” She grimaced. “How do I put this… let off some pressure?”

“‘Let off some pressure’?” Char snorted. “You don’t need a euphemism. It’s okay. Everyone pees.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Everyone also poops. Just… go to the bathroom.”

“But, I….” Mani sucked in a breath. “Okay, fine.”

She stood up, pushed her chair in, and hurriedly walked off: the kind of walk used by every child at the pool who’d just been yelled at not to run by a lifeguard.

“In any case,” Tiffany said, picking her fork back up, “I can say with confidence that Chariot is the worse teacher of the two. Possibly the worst teacher at the school, and if this is what we can expect from her, then I hope to have as little to do with Professor Chariot as possible.”

“Hi, Tiff! Come with me, we’re gonna see Professor Chariot!”

Tiffany looked up and saw Akko standing over her. “Gah!” she said, bolting to her feet. On the upside, Akko wasn’t a crocodile or a monkey or anything this time, but that didn’t excuse the definite downside of her being in Tiff’s personal bubble. “Don’t you have to go show some newbies how to tie their shoes, or something?” Tiff asked, backing away toward the table.

“Oh, tutoring? Diana’s actually helping a couple of students out. They seemed really excited to talk to her!” She smiled, took Tiff’s hand. “But I’ve gotta get you to Professor Chariot, pronto!”

“What?”

“And bring your new broom!”

“What?”

Tiff was helpless as Akko dragged her out of the dining hall.

#little witch academia #akko kagari #diana cavendish #chariot du nord #croix meridies #diakko #anne finnelan #fanfiction #falling stars

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cosmos-five · 7 years ago

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ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇʟʟᴏᴡ ʙᴏʏ » ᴄʜᴇɴʟᴇ 1/3

─ ʜɪɢʜ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ x ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴀᴜ

↠ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴛʜᴇ sʟɪᴍ ʜᴏᴏᴅᴇᴅ ғɪɢᴜʀᴇ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʟʟᴡᴀʏ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ ʙᴜᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ﹐ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

↠ ᴄʜᴇɴʟᴇ x ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ﹐ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴍᴇɴᴛ/sʟɪᴄᴇᴏғʟɪғᴇ

btw ;; the reader will be introduced in part two of this little series thing (ʃƪ'⌣’)

also credit to nakamotens for the cute ass gifset of nct dream omg

HELLO i’m here (sadly) with a headcannon kind of thing for this idea

it could honestly be a fanfic on it’s own but you’ll see more of chenle’s presence in the other nct dream stories i’m planning

moving along

chenle was such a happy person during his lifetime. a very lovable kid in his academy, his family, his close friends and outside of school

he made everyone smile no matter what the situation was and his hyper energy rubbed off on everyone else majority of the time

“sunshine” to “loud kid” went around the academy

he had a good amount of friends but of course! nothing replaced the dream for kids crew

dream for kids crew was for the boys in the academy who came here on scholarship or had a difficult home life

everyone in it valued the after school activities, random field trips to theaters or any other event someone mentioned and then the friendships everyone made with each other

the dream kids typically got their scholarship based on what they were strong in (e.g music theory, any instrument, sports, science, the art department, math, languages)

the academy particularly loves these boys (and girls because they have their own crew/program!) since they ended up usually being the success stories

chenle was determined to be one of those kids, the kids who had their photo taken for the wall with a ribbon on the side of it LOL

see chenle use to play the piano

he was really fucking good at it and he spent hours upon hours crafting the quality of the sounds that came out

his home life was a struggle but it was filled with warmth and love

chenle came from a pretty poor family consisting of his single father, his grandmother and younger sister who was only in pre school when he passed away

his mother had walked out on the family for another man so chenle didn’t really see her much except for holidays and sometimes birthdays if she wasn’t angry at his father

he didn’t really care if she did visit

his grandmother’s homestyle cooking, his father’s hearty laugh and his little sister whining to be held by him was all he needed

chenle discovered the piano when he entered into the academy

at first, he didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do since he was only six years old but as time went on… he was confused

he didn’t know what to do

he tried out astronomy with renjun but he wasn’t as stellar at it like his best friend

jaemin suggested joining the book club he’s in but after reading one chapter of a thick novel, he gave up

mark convinced him to do soccer but met with the words of “no thank you” because chenle knew those jerseys were itchy

jisung said to join the art community with jeno or come with him to an ap algebra class but chenle didn’t agree with any of those

haechan reminded him to be gentle with himself and wait it out

of course chenle got frustrated and vowed to be undecided for the rest of his life

until he heard the piano piece clair de lune and he knew he wanted to learn that instrument

so! he begged his father for a keyboard on his thirteenth birthday and wow! his father managed to buy it for him

he still owns the keyboard and yeah, it’s in bad shape but mark put all these stickers he got from the local dollar store plus jisung scribbled “butter fingers” on it so he’ll keep it even if it breaks

cliche but he loves playing für elise and that’s one of his go to audition songs

funny story : since it is mentioned that he auditions with that song, the teachers there always say “chenle, can you please pick another piece? we heard this last week lol” and he’s like “uh?? but you know you like hearing it so no!” they gave him this look so he starts playing a jazz piece bye

chenle’s pretty much self taught because taking lessons couldn’t happen for him

so he watched youtube videos and before you know it, he wasn’t tone deaf!

he learned any song ranging from twinkle twinkle little star for his little sister to stevie wonder’s isn’t she lovely

he finally knew where he belonged in the academy and what he wanted to be

he wanted to be a conductor one day

no one questioned him or made him feel crummy for it not being a typical dream job

but he didn’t care either way since it was his soon to be life, not theirs

the dream kids support him so much!!

jeno even lets him conduct his flute practices from time to time

chenle during the practice : ( ՞ਊ ՞)

jeno during the practice : (`_っ´) “chenle keep moving your freaking arms im off beat”

renjun wouldn’t let him conduct his percussion practices though lmfao

jeno and renjun would be like “band geeks united!” and chenle would have stood there pouting and mocking their handshake since piano wasn’t really in band or orchestra

it soon becomes “musical geniuses united!”

playing the piano made him feel safe

it was a whole new world for him besides his own earbuds and the dream kids

SPEAKING OF THE DREAM KIDS lets get mushy before the angst

chenle loved all of them

definitely jisung but he loved the slightly older kids like mark and renjun

jeno was his main dude though for arcade games if they had either enough spare change or they somehow smoothly talked the owner to let them in. sometimes the latter worked.

jaemin helped him tackle vocabulary terms in their english courses and taught him how to properly learn the difference between effect and affect

he still didn’t know

haechan helped him with science homework and actually helped him pass with a c-

jisung!! oh jisung!! was his childhood friend, basically since toddler days since their families mingled during community church meetings and such

jisung always told chenle that they are brothers and that no matter what happens, they wouldn’t live life to the fullest without each other

this is random but i forgot to mention that they live in really small town as well so everyone knew everyone. tight community i suppose

back to the mushiness

everyone in the group cherished and let me tell you, PROTECTED HIM WITH THEIR LIVES! jisung and chenle was everyone’s little brothers

chenle enjoyed teasing them and laughing with them with his iconic laugh (wow i really just heard his laugh in my own head bye) probably screaming too when mark didn’t get him ice cream

everything was to be kept light hearted and fun since things at home were pretty shitty for everyone

now for the angst

well sad angst

it was around the autumn seasons and it happened to be close to thanksgiving so school was out and families planned their own dinner parties

jaemin had invited all the boys to his house for the different tastings of breads and cheese his parents were serving

chenle ate a lot as per usual but everyone kind of already figured that would happen

jisung and chenle walked home together that evening whilst chewing on the sugar cookies jaemin’s mother left them

the little conversations they have are silly but calming

jisung and chenle pretty much talked about anything and loved adventures in general, even if it’s just these two they always manage to have fun

“when thanksgiving day is over, do you wanna go to the aquarium?”

“hm, sure, chenle. i’m gonna pay though. my dad gave me apology money.”

another random thing i forgot to mention but jisung and chenle have twinning skateboards i’m kinda crying about it

anyways

chenle’s aunt had decided to come down because she missed her brother and simply to eat her mother’s good cooking

chenle and his aunt were close you know, super close and whenever she came down to visit, they would go rollerskating

so she took him rollerskating and out for pizza before hopping back in the car to go home

on the way back, they did their own version of karaoke and it ended up being a huge laugh fest between the two

his aunt wanted to save this moment with him so she pulled out her phone

“we need pictures”

“yeah we definitely need pictures”

it was at a stop light

it wasn’t time for it change yet on either sides but the streets were empty and a car had decided to come through

during the pictures, in the camera finder, chenle could see the car swerving and coming straight for them

but before he say anything, all he saw was black and the white noise of ringing in his ears

his family had soon seen the manila folder with the words “hit & run, two dead, five minutes before death took place” labeled across it

chenle was identified by wearing a yellow hooded jacket and the receipt ticket from the skating rink lying next to his aunt with a small smile on his face

#chenle #nct dream #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #chenle scenarios #chenle imagines #nct dream au #nct au #chenle au #**my writings #**creations #this au makes my heart ache i love it so much im already working on the other boys

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andromedahawking · 7 years ago

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NaNoWriMo Day 4

6667 words! Apologies in advance, I wrote this in a sleep-deprived haze when nothing was real, so this probably makes absolutely no sense, but hey, it’s 1667 words. Enjoy!

It made Maria feel a lot better seeing how smoothly this meeting went. Nothing like the previous group projects she’d been a part of. Everybody contributed, everybody had something to pitch in.

“…but the deal with New York was, even though Mazer was really popular, they weren’t totally wooed, right? A bunch of people still refused to vote red…”

“…and in Arizona, it was pretty much guaranteed they’d swing towards the more liberal candidates, so Hanover was going to win no matter what, since she was the most liberal Progressive…”

“…the 29th Amendment only went into effect for this election, it was ratified back in 2046, so there was a 10-year delay before the changes went into effect…”

It was great to see everybody so involved, but as with any assignment, Maria left that day feeling mentally exhuasted. Her head was swirling with all sorts of maps and quotes, blurring together into a big mess of… bleh. She needed to spend a few hours without any heavy thinking and go to bed early.

She ended up doing exactly that when she got home. She went straight to her room, and took a nap for four hours before waking up and doing her homework for the next day. Then she ate dinner, and went back to bed again, not waking up until the next morning.

—

This time, the windows shone brightly with streaming sunlight when she woke up, unhidden by the fog that had conjured up yesterday. She tried to convince herself to get out of bed immediately, but the covers were so warm, and the sun was lighting her room just so… it was a little too intoxicating to let go of just yet. So she made sure her second alarm was set, and drifted off back to sleep again.

This time, when her second alarm went off, she was able to extricate herself from her bed and make her way downstairs. She was still awake before Thalia, although at this point, that was saying more about Thalia than herself. It was 8 already! Shouldn’t she be up too?

“Hey, Thalia, it’s already 8 in the morning! You have one hour to get ready for school, okay?”

“Mmmrrrmmm, school’s not ’til 10!”

“And it’ll take you another half an hour to get your lazy ass out of bed and start getting ready before your ride comes, I know you! If you don’t get up soon you’re going to be late!”

“I knooow!”

Maria sighed angrily. “I’ll be back around 18, don’t do anything too stupid while I’m gone!”

Today was Thursday, so that meant two things: she had both English and History today, and she had work in the afternoon. She tried not to let the familiar sensation of dread hit her too hard as she realised that, but it was… difficult. Work was always a bit of a grating time, but lately, it just seemed like everybody was being just a little bit more insufferable than usual, and it was getting hard to hold her tongue when they were being insufferable to her face. Nathan was her only saving grace at this point. How that man managed to deal with so many people who didn’t know the first thing about social etiquette was beyond her.

She walked into History class with just a few minutes to go before half past. “Mornin’, Professor.”

“Mornin’,” Monaca said back. “Have a good Wednesday?”

“Yeah. Got a good start on the project.”

“Good! I hope you’re ready to work on it today, too?”

Maria rubbed her eyes tiredly. “I hope so. I slept like the dead last night, so I would like to think that maybe I’ll be more awake today.”

“If only it were that easy,” Monaca sighed. “Find a menthol stick, that’ll wake you right up if you start nodding off. Those things are strong as all get-out.”

“Menthol sticks?” Adrien said. “That sounds like some sort of torture method the government would come up with.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, Adrien, ‘cause I also hate menthol with a passion,” Monaca said. “I’ve tried them once, and let me tell you, it woke me right up. Strongest taste out there next to black coffee.”

“That’s honestly frightening.”

—

“Okay, so, 2051!” Monaca said. “I know you guys were al saying that 2050 sounded like a very dull year, but 2051 has some stuff that should actually interest you.”

“Hurrah!”

“Quiet, Hank!”

Monaca laughed. “I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic. Now, in 2051, the groundwork for one of the biggest landmarks in today’s America got laid down: Teller City came onto the map.

“Teller City wasn’t exactly anything special before 2051. It was found in 2033, in the middle of Montana, and got started as a manufacturing city. It wasn’t very big, and it really didn’t have a reputation to speak. But that all changed in 2051. In February that year, a bidding process began for one city to become host to the second headquarters of a fledgling artificial intelligence company that some of you may or may not have heard of: Hawking/Turing Laboratories.”

The class laughed at that line. “Yeah, I don’t think many people really know about HT, Professor,” Hannah called out.

“I didn’t think so either,” Monaca tossed back. “The bidding process took only a couple months, and Teller City was chosen on July 28th. At the time, HT was starting to really get a name for itself, but it hadn’t gotten the reputation it has today just yet. Artificial intelligence was still far from perfected in 2051 and a lot of their resources were being allocated towards energy production to make a profit while their research and development department worked on the androids they’d become known for in the 60s. That meant whichever city won the auction for the second headquarters could count on a pretty healthy influx of jobs and population growth. Teller City had already gone through a pretty amazing growth spurt in the late 40s, but they were confident enough in their infrastructure handling that they were willing to take on another wave of workers coming in to work for Hawking/Turing Labs. They won the auction, and as predicted, there was a big uptick in job growth and population growth in Teller City over the next couple of years as a result of that win. But, that’s only one part of the reason this was such an important year for Teller City.

“Since they won the auction, that meant that this city, in the middle of Montana, which hadn’t really been paid too much attention in the past few decades, got put in the spotlight when President Plenard signed the Energy Restoration Act of 2051.”

“Wait, that sounds familiar,” Tatie said from the back. “Wasn’t the Energy Restoration Act the one that started the energy grid?”

“Exactly!” Monaca said. “The Energy Restoration Act gave a huge burst of government funding to a few energy companies based in the United States as a way to combat the growing energy crisis that was starting to cause major problems for electricity as a result of the oil shortage of the late 40s going into the 50s. And one of those companies was Hawking/Turing Labs, which meant that two cities were given a huge boost of productivity and publicity: namely, Columbia, South Carolina, and Teller City. They started mass-producing cutting-edge solar grids that were to be used to replace the power plants running on fossil fuels, and eventually became the two major hubs of today’s solar grid. In 2051, this was a huge deal, because something on this scale hadn’t been done since the middle of the 1900s, when the interstate highways were built. Teller City got most of the attention, because it produced by and large the biggest amount of panels, gridding, and infrastructure out of any of the other major manufacturing cities in the United States. They sort of had to, since Montana and the West in general is very sparsely populated, so to create a national grid meant they would have to reach all the way out to Washington, Wyoming, Utah, all the small states that have more land than anybody really knows what to do with.”

“Wait, so was this mainly a Hawking/Turing project that was funded by the government, or was this more decentralised?” Maria asked.

“Good question! Hawking/Turing was the main benefactor of the Energy Department’s funding, but a couple of th eother energy juggernauts like PG&E got some pretty substantial extra cash to work on this projet. It took until about 2056 for them to complete the grid, but when they did, it worked pretty damn well. Of course, anything on this level is gonna be rife with lots of little problems, but they did a pretty good job of making it work. Teller City has sort of been given a paragraph to itself in the history textbooks for being at the center of the whole thing. So, if you ever wondered what was so special about Teller City, now you know: they won the second headquarters for HT Labs, and they built a metric shitton of stuff for the solar grid as part of the Eneergy Restoration Act of 2051.”

—

“Okay, it’s official, this class is gonna murder my hands with all the stuff I have to take down,” Adrien said to Maria as they left. “Like, it's interesting and all, and I love it, but Jesus Christ she talks at the speed of sound sometimes.”

“She’s very easy to get excited,” Maria agreed. “Sometimes I wonder if we’d be better off if we put half a sleeping pill in that Snapple bottle of hers before class so we could maybe hear more than just every other word.”

“Ha! Yeah, that probably would help out at least a little.” He checked his watch. “Oop! Sorry, gotta jet, I’ve got Astronomy in five minutes.”

“What?! Dude, run! Run, run! Get going!” Maria exclaimed. “You’re not gonna make it if you don’t book it!”

“I know that already!” he said, already breaking into a jog. He sprinted across the courtyard, then vanished into the sprawl of buildings.

#NaNoWriMo #My work #My OCs

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writerspink · 6 years ago

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K-12 Words

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1.1

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1.2

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2.1

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2.2

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3.1

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3.2

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4.1

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4.2

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5.1

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5.2

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6.1

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6.2

prepared journey trade delicate arrived track cotton hoe furnish exciting view grasp level branches privilege limit wrong enable ability various moreover spoil starve dollars digest advice sense accuse pretty wasn’t industry adopt loyal suggested blow treasure cook adjective doesn’t wings tools crops loud smell frail wisdom fit expect ahead lifted deed device weight gradual respect interesting arrange particular compound examine cable climate division individual talent fatal entire advantage opponent wouldn’t elements column custom enjoy grace theory suitable wife shoes determine allow marsh workers difficult repeated thrill position born distant revive magnificent shop sir army struggled deal plural rich rhythm rely poem company string locate church mystify elegant led actual responsible japanese huge fun meat observe swim office chart avoid factories block called experience win crumple brilliant located pole bought conditions sister details primary survey truck recall disease radio rate scatter decay signal approach launch hair age amount scale pounds although per broken moment tiny possible gold milk quiet natural lot stone act build middle speed count consonant someone sail rolled bear wonder smiled angle fraction Africa killed melody bottom trip hole poor let’s fight surprise French died beat exactly remain fingers clever coast explore imitate pierce rare symbol triumph ancient cling disturb expose perform remote timid bashful brief compete consider delightful honor reflex remark brink chill conquer fortunate fury intend pattern vibrant wit

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capture remark western outcome risk current bold compare resident ambition arrest furthermore desire confuse accurate disclose considerable contribute calculate baggage literacy noble era benefit orchard shabby content precious manufacture dusk afford assist demonstrate instant concentrate sturdy severe blend vacant weary carefree host limb pointless prepare inspire shallow chamber vast ease attentive source frantic lack recent distress basic permit threat analyze distract meadow mistrust jagged prefer sole envy hail reduce arena tour annual apparent recognize captivity burrow proceed develop humble resist peculiar response communicate circular variety frequent reveal essential disaster plead mature appropriate attractive request congratulate address destructive fragile modest attempt tradition ancestor focus flexible conclude venture impact generosity routine tragic crafty furious blossom concern ascend awkward master queasy release portion plentiful alert heroic extraordinary frontier descend invisible coax entrance capable peer terror mock outstanding valiant typical competition hardship entertain eager limp survive tidy antonym duplicate abolish approach approve glory magnificent meek prompt revive watchful wreckage audible consume glide origin prevent punctuate representative scorn stout woe arch authentic clarify declare grant grave opponent valid yearn admirable automatic devotion distant dreary exhaust kindle predict separation stunt

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evade debate dedicate budge available miniature petrify pasture banquet pedestrian solitary decline reassure nonchalant exhibit realistic exert abuse dictate minor monarch concept character strategy soar beverage tropical withdraw challenge kin navigate purchase reliable mischief solo combine vivid aroma spurt illuminate narrator retain excavate avalanche preserve suspend accomplish exasperate obsolete occasion myth reign sparse gorge intense revert antagonist talon aggressive alternate retire cautiously blizzard require endanger luxurious senseless portable sever compensate companion visual immense slither guardian compassion escalate detect protagonist oasis altitude assume seldom courteous absurd edible identical pardon approximate taunt achievement homonym hearty convert wilderness industrious sluggish thrifty deprive independent bland confident anxious astound numerous resemble route access jubilation saunter hazy impressive document moral crave gigantic bungle prefix summit overthrow perish visible translate comply intercept feeble exult compose negative suffocate frigid synonym appeal dominate deplete abundant economy desperate diligent commend boycott jovial onset burden fixture objective siege barrier conceive formal inquire penalize picturesque predator privilege slumber advantage ambition defiant fearsome imply merit negotiate purify revoke wretched absorb amateur channel elegant grace inspect lame tiresome tranquil boast eloquent glisten ideal infectious invest locate ripple sufficient uproar

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apprehensive dialogue prejudice marvel eligible accommodate arrogant distinct knack deposit liberate cumulative consequence strive salvage chronological unique vow concise influence lure poverty priority legislation significant conserve verdict leisure erupt beacon stationary generate provoke efficient campaign paraphrase swarm adhere eerie mere mimic deteriorate literal preliminary solar soothe expanse ignite verge recount apparel terrain ample quest composure majority collide prominent duration pursue innovation omniscient resolute unruly optimist restrain agony convenient constant prosper elaborate genre retrieve exploit continuous dissolve dwell persecute abandon meager elude rural retaliate primitive remote blunder propel vital designate cultivate loathe consent drastic fuse maximum negotiate barren transform conspicuous possess allegiance beneficial former factor deluge vibrant intimidate idiom dense awe rigorous manipulate transport discretion hostile clarity arid parody boisterous capacity massive prosecute declare stifle remorse refuge predicament treacherous inevitable ingenious plummet adapt monotonous accumulate reinforce extract reluctant vacate hazardous inept diminish domestic linger context excel cancel distribute document fragile myth reject scuffle solitary temporary veteran assault convert dispute impressive justify misleading numerous productive shrewd strategy villain bluff cautious consist despise haven miniature monarch obstacle postpone straggle vivid aggressive associate deceive emigrate flexible glamour hazy luxurious mishap overwhelm span blemish blunt capable conclude detect fatigue festive hospitality nomad supreme

8.2

exclude civic compact painstaking supplement habitat leeway minute hoax contaminate likeness migration commentary extinct tangible originate urban unanimous subordinate collaborate obstacle esteem encounter futile cordial trait improvises superior exaggerate anticipate cope evolve eclipse dissent anguish subsequent sanctuary formulates makeshift controversy diversity terminate precise equivalent pamper prior potential obnoxious radiant predatory presume permanent pending simultaneously tamper supervise perceived vicious patronize trickle stodgy rant oration preview species poised perturb vista wince yearn persist shirk status tragedy trivial snare vindictive wrath recede peevish rupture unscathed random toxic void orthodox subtle resume sequel upright wary overwhelm perjury uncertainty prowess utmost throb pluck pique vengeance pelt urgent substantial robust sullen retort ponder whim saga sham reprimand vocation assimilate dub defect accord embark desist dialect chastise banter inaugurate ovation barter muse blasé stamina atrocity deter principal liberal epoch preposterous advocate audacious dispatch incense deplore institute deceptive component subside spontaneous bonanza ultimate wrangle clarify hindrance irascible plausible profound infinite accomplish apparent capacity civilian conceal duplicate keen provoke spurt undoing vast withdraw barrier calculate compose considerable deputy industrious jolt loot rejoice reliable senseless shrivel alternate demolish energetic enforce feat hearty mature observant primary resign strive verdict brisk cherish considerate displace downfall estimate humiliate identical improper poll soothe vicinity abolish appeal brittle condemn descend dictator expand famine portable prey thrifty visual

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stance vie instill exceptional avail strident formidable rebuke enhance benign perspective tedious aloof encroach memoir mien desolate inventive prodigy staple stint fallacy grope vilify recur assail tirade antics recourse clad jurisdiction caption pseudonym reception humane ornate sage ungainly overt sedative amiss convey connoisseur rational enigma fortify servile fastidious contagious elite disgruntled eccentric pioneer abet luminous era sleek serene proficient rue articulate awry pungent wage deploy anarchy culminate inventory commemorate muster adept durable foreboding lucrative modify authority transition confiscate pivotal analogy avid flair ferret decree voracious imperative grapple deface augment shackle legendary trepidation discern glut cache endeavor attribute phenomenon balmy bizarre gullible loll rankle decipher sublime rubble renounce porous turbulent heritage hover pithy allot minimize agile renown fend revenue versa gaunt haven dire doctrine intricate conservative exotic facilitate bountiful cite panorama swelter foster indifferent millennium gingerly conscientious intervene mercenary citadel obviously rely supportive sympathy weakling atmosphere decay gradual impact noticeable recede stability variation approximately astronomical calculation criterion diameter evaluate orbit sphere agricultural decline disorder identify probable thrive expected widespread bulletin contribution diversity enlist intercept operation recruit survival abruptly ally collide confident conflict protective taunt adaptation dormant forage frigid hibernate insulate export glisten influence landscape native plantation restore urge blare connection errand exchange

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feasible teem pang vice tycoon succumb capacious onslaught excerpt eventful forfeit crusade tract haggard susceptible exemplify ardent crucial excruciating embargo disdain apprehend surpass sporadic flustered languish conventional disposition theme plunder ignore project complaint title dramatic delivery litter experimental clinic arrogance preparation remind atomic occasional conscious deny maturity closure stressed translator animate observation physical further gently registration suppress combination amazing constructive allied poetry passion ecstasy mystery cheerful contribution spirit failed gummy commerce prove disagreement raid consume embarrass preference migrant devour encouragement quote mythology destined destination illuminating struggle accent ungrateful giggle approval confidence expose scientist operation superstitious emergency manners absolutely swallow readily mutual bound crisp orient stress sort stare comfort verbal heel challenging advertisement envious sex scar astonish basis accuracy enviable alliance specific chef embarrassed counter tolerable sympathetic gradually vanish informative amaze royal furry insist jealousy simplify quiver collaborate dedicated flexible function mimic obstacle technique archaeologist fragment historian intact preserve reconstruct remnant commence deed exaggeration heroic impress pose saunter wring astound concealed inquisitive interpret perplexed precise reconsider suspicious anticipation defy entitled neutral outspoken reserved sought equal absorb affect circulate conserve cycle necessity seep barren expression meaningful plume focused genius perspective prospect stunned superb transition assume guarantee nominate

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install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

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warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite

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serpent-bearer · 8 years ago

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Vivienne - Chapter 3 Flight or Fight

look: this, light spilling like honey

from our lips. this, stars finding homes

in the leftover curves of our necks,

bleeding something holy into our skin.

look: this, where you sang until the moon

fell in love with us too. where we wrote

all our sins and set them on fire and danced

until the rising sun kissed wings onto our backs.

look: this, the exit wound you healed

by telling me it was a place for the cosmos

to enter and make me whole again. this,

the castles we built in our heads for each other.

look: let’s go and splinter the stars.

let’s run until we can fit the light in our bodies

and teach it not to escape anymore.

let’s run until we can find our way home again,

until we realize home has been inside of us

the whole time, waiting for us to return.

- how to be whole again, Arlen C.

Astronomy was one of those funny subjects when taken in an academic environment.

When she was at the Academy of Magical Astrophysics, Aurora would spend one week in theory lectures and classes, and the alternate week continuing her practical research in one of the Academy’s many observatories. The alterative day/night routine suited her body clock much better than the shitstorm of the mixture of day and night classes Hogwarts had given her to deal with in her profession. In her younger days, she used the one week of free nights of catch up on readings (and perhaps a casual fling or two with a few extremely willing astronomer wizards…), and the free days to catch up on well needed sleep. It had worked well.

Under Dumbledore’s regime her sleeping patterns and mental health in general were not doing so well. Theory classes in the day and practical classes at night, coupled with the incessant worries about what currently lay in wait outside the walls of the castle had left her feeling nothing more than an empty husk of a woman. She could no longer look at herself in the mirror. The droopy bags and sharply deepened frown line was too much to take.

It had been a very thrilling afternoon for her seventh year N.E.W.T. students – they had just begun to get their final year research projects underway… projects that could consist of astronomical and magical theories and experiments of their choosing, projects that could gain one or two keen future astronomers entry into her old haunt of AoMA. The small group had spent the majority of the afternoon of her theory class huddled in chattering, excited groups over sprawled out pieces of parchment… musing on the brink of the rest of their professional and academic lives, seemingly without a care in the world but with all the murders and war that surrounded them this year Aurora assumed the cheeriness was nothing but a farce; a way to cope with the day to day. She knew the inside of that mask well.

Sinistra was glad that she could set them to task without much of her teacherly input today. She had been up half the night with the first years during their midnight lessons, and up the second half of the night tossing and turning in simultaneous hot and cold sweats… nightmares of Dark Marks burned into her abdomen and sounds of Severus screaming in bone chilling pain clouded the few moments of sleep that had been sanctioned to her.

Was it just her, or did the skies look greyer nowadays than they ever had before?

A vague ringing in her ears should have signalled the end of class, but it had completely washed over Aurora. It was only when one of the seventh years had called, “Professor Sinistra?” that she lifted her chin from her hands and snapped her gaze back into the classroom.

“Mr. Morgan?”

Mr. Morgan was currently gawking at her - clearly looking for the most refined way to say “can we get the fuck out of your class now?” – but he needn’t bother. She just caught sight of the clock.

“Oh… yes…” she sighed, running a trembling hand over her tired eyes. “Go. Get out. See you all next week.”

There was a sudden, deafening sound of about ten chairs skidding across the floorboards. A collection of noise that only ceased when the door to the classroom had slammed shut, leaving Aurora feeling just as alone as she had felt when the room had been fully occupied. She spent a few moments simply gazing, her eyes glazing over at the blackboard behind her: full of complex and blissful calculations… numbers that would never make her feel the way everything else was making her feel… numbers that wouldn’t attach their talons to her ribcage and refuse to let go…

Just as she felt the sting of bubbling emotion begin to well up in her eyes, a knock at the door shocked her back into dignity.

“Yes?” she called, straightening herself up in the chair and trying in vain to look remotely presentable.

And she almost laughed out loud at the sight of who stood there, because it was the last person in the world she was expecting to be standing outside an Astronomy classroom door at the present time.

“Good afternoon, Aurora” Professor Dumbledore called quietly from the entrance, bowing his head politely.

Is it now? She thought bitterly.

When he was met with nothing but indifferent silence, he continued.

“I was wondering whether I could perhaps come in for a little chat?” he motioned to one of the students desks directly in front of her.

Aurora gave an extraordinary melodramatic shrug. All manner of respect for the old man had long since flown out of the window.

“Can hardly deny you, can I? It’s your school.” We’re all property of Albus Wulfric Brian Whatever Manipulative Geniusbastard Dumbledore after all…

Ah, acquiring the skill of Occlumency gave her such vindictive pleasure sometimes.

Dumbledore faltered for just a mere millisecond (which gave Sinistra gratifying tingles in her belly) before allowing himself to stroll casually into the classroom, his sparkling blue eyes washed over all the slowly rotating planetary spheres and walls of equations as he did so.

“Ah, the perihelion and aphelion orbits…” he mused nonchalantly, taking note of some of her scribblings on the board. “The different ecliptic effects on various mind-alerting spells, I’m assuming?”

Sinistra nodded, rather disinterested in the casual talk. Dumbledore sighed audibly at the sight of the hundreds of little diagrams.

“Ah, to be a N.E.W.T. Astronomy student once again… if I recall correctly, my final research project comprised of astronomical units and the effects of the outer uncharted galaxy on various curses…”

Of course your project would comprise of the possible prospect of you boldly discovering new planets and systems, wouldn’t expect anything less.

“And as far I recall, there was no such effect. Not unless you refused to submit your findings to publishing and you’ve kept the secret locked away in one of your drawers somewhere,” Aurora replied tartly. She flashed an ironic smile at the old wizard, and she could tell by the way he was smiling back that he was thinking the exact same way about her but would die before he ever admitted it. He was far too noble for all of that, of course.

“May I sit?”

“Please. By all means,” she waved her wand and one of the many chairs sitting in rows skited across the floor in front of her. Dumbledore nodded a thank you and took his place in front of her desk.

“I’ve just come by to enquire how you are going with your syllabus for the beginning of the year. Are you managing to cope with everything?”

Aurora countered with a deep frown.

“Of course I am,” she shrugged. “I’ve been teaching the same subject for ten years – you’d hope I’d be able to manage it. Wouldn’t be worth my wages if I couldn’t, would I?”

“1986 when you first walked through these doors as a Professor, yes?”

“I believe so.”

Dumbledore gave another infuriating smile.

“You know, I cannot help but be slightly intrigued,” he began, leaning back in his chair slightly. “I remember you were rather… reluctant when I first wrote you offering you the position after Professor Alcor left us. You were off travelling the world researching for all the wizarding astronomy journals I can think of. I almost saw your name pop up weekly in British Magical Cosmology Monthly: Professor. A. N. Sinistra. You were a professor even before you walked through these halls and up into that tower; it was not a title simply bestowed upon you. It was earned. I never did quite ask you what persuaded you to change your mind, and more importantly…” his eyes glittered ominously at this “… what persuaded you to stay so long.”

Immediately she knew what he wanted her to say. But she would throw her most prized telescope out of the tower before she ever admitted the answer to the latter part of that question.

“I suppose I needed some stability for once,” Aurora said, absentmindedly scratching an old ink stain off her wooden desk. “Since… well… since my mother...” he voice choked at the mere mention of the woman who was so brutally taken away from her life. “Since I was taken in by my brothers – since leaving Mali and coming here -”

“Of course. It must’ve been hard for you.”

“Being completely displaced after losing my parents was not quite something I was prepared for at thirteen, no,” Aurora replied quietly. The tone had suddenly become far more serious than she would have liked and she could tell he was eyeing her with something remarkably close to pity and she wanted to slap it out of him.

Something happened then which Aurora would not have been prepared for in a million years of existence, and something which initially caused her to jump out of her skin. She felt a bony, cold, slightly trembling hand make contact with the back of the hand she was still using to scratch the bejesus out of the desk with.

He’s holding my hand? I mean, he’s HOLDING MY HAND?

“Er…” she mumbled cautiously, wanting so badly to pull away but simultaneously not wishing to seem completely startled and foolish.

“I remember it well, you know,” said Dumbledore. “That fateful day… ’73, or ’74, I can’t quite recall - ”

“’73,” Aurora muttered darkly. She certainly would never forget that year.

“’73…” Dumbledore nodded. “You arrived in my office, along with your eldest brother I believe. I can’t quite imagine how you felt. So much had happened to you all in that twenty four hours. Your mother, shifting entire continents to escape the massacres in Mali, an entire new school and new classmates who had already known each other for four years before you came along. It must have been quite the lonely existence.”

All this sudden outpouring of sentiment from the Headmaster, someone she merely considered her boss and nothing more, finally got the better of the Astronomy professor. She pulled her hand away from his and started ruffling through her seventh years’ project proposals.

“It was a long time ago. I don’t wish to delve into such things it if it’s all the same to you,” Aurora countered severely. “I have about a billion and half of these to read and approve to the AoMA board. Half of these students won’t get their approvals if I don’t crack on. Was there anything else you wanted to pity me for?”

“My caring about your wellbeing is not pity, Aurora.”

“Well, thank you for finally noticing my existence 23 years after the fact.”

She had no idea why this sudden anger was finally seeping out through every pore. She had always managed to keep it well under control, for all these ten years she had been employee under him; though she had always still felt it - ever since he had sorted her as a thirteen-year-old in his office, and marched her down to the Slytherin dormitories and never since bothered to check on her and her mental state again. Like she had been some soulless bacterium incapable of nightmares and excruciating loneliness and endless flashbacks of her mother being murdered right before her eyes. None of that had ever mattered to him… and now he obviously wanted something from her, false sentiment had reared its ugly head. And she could hardly bare to look at him.

“I can assure you I have noticed your struggle, no matter how well you attempt to hide it,” he replied as calmly as he could, though she could sense just a tiny bit of impatience in the back of his throat.

Aurora sniffed dubiously.

“Yeah,” she quipped, rising from her desk, “when it suits you, perhaps.”

She didn’t bother to look back at him as she collected all the students’ proposals from their respective desks – she could have so easily used a summoning charm to pull them toward her desk, but the thought of looking at him anymore made her feel nauseous. They spent a few tense moments in obstinate silence… but she could feel his piercing gaze upon the hairs on the back of her head; so much so that Aurora shivered uncontrollably.

“There are many dangerous forces at play outside these walls…” his voice finally carried to her from the back of the classroom. “I want all of my staff safe and out of harm’s way.”

Sinistra, at this stage, could not help a snort of contempt.

“Safe and out of harm’s way?” she echoed. “All of them? Or just us lowly mortals who are worthless to your great cause? Or is it just me you want ‘out of the way’?”

“Aurora… let’s not go down this path…”

“Why have you come here, then?” she snapped harshly. Finally ready to face him, she stormed back to her desk with the mountain of parchment in her hands and slammed then down between them.

“Was it to try yet again to have me give in my notice?” Aurora said with a mocking grin. “Or are you just going to give up the charade and sack me on the spot. To finally have me out of the picture?”

“You are one of the most competent teachers I have ever had the pleasure in hiring,” Dumbledore countered, his face remained impressively controlled, but the line between his twinkling blue eyes had deepened just enough that it transformed his entire demeanour. “Of course, I am not quite used to being so rudely spoken down to by such a highly-esteemed employee – but why on earth would I wish to sack you? I merely wished to give you a warning, as I have done with every single one of your colleagues and friends. To give you a choice.”

“And what choice is this?”

His stare would have split her skull wide open if she hadn’t the tools to protect herself. And she could tell by the way in which his shoulders dropped in disappointment, the way he gave a barely audible sigh, that he had found out her secret.

“It would not be wise…” Dumbledore said as diplomatically as he could seem to manage. “… to be seen to be associated with members of the Order. The Dark Forces that are amassing are greater than you could possibly know. Your life is in great danger by doing what you are doing, and I merely wish to warn you.”

Aurora shot him a look of complete bewilderment, as she worked harder than ever to prevent mental images from floating to the very top of her grey matter.

“Associated with whom, may I ask? I am associated with many members of your ‘Order’; a lot of them I would consider my very good friends, and who I worry myself sick over daily. You think He Who Must Not Be Named is interested in my measly personal concerns?”

“He will when he finds out.”

“Finds out what?!” Aurora had now completely lost the ability to keep her voice down. She beared over him and smacked her hand down threateningly on the table, just daring him to come out and say it, to stop his fucking charade, to be honest with her – with anyone – for once in his life. Sinistra laughed bitterly in the silent old man’s face.

“As much as I would gladly exchange war and gloom and pain and bloody Scotland for swimming naked under the stars in the Red Sea with copious amounts of booze – I’m afraid that for the time being, I am staying put,” she said defiantly. “My family is here. Therefore, I am here. No amount of threatening on yours or anyone else’s part is going to make me abandon him… them…” she corrected almost a millisecond after that unfortunate slipup.

Dumbledore continued to survey her cautiously. His chin rested on the one hand that was blackened and mangled – what the hell happened to that hand? She made a mental note to ask Severus before she remembered that she was avoiding him at all costs lately.

“My brothers and I are fighting in this war as well, you know,” she said, leaning back into her chair and attempting to further deflect where the argument was headed. “Maintaining a safe portal between Hogwarts and Uagadou is no easy feat.”

“No, I daresay it is not,” Dumbledore agreed. The tension between them starting to lift just ever-so-slightly. “But having that safe passageway for victims has been invaluable to the Order and the greater wizarding community.”

“Up until that point that he finds it…” Sinistra bit ominously. “Then it’s not just wizarding Britain who is at war - it’s wizarding Africa too. I am placing my birthplace in much danger by doing what I’m doing.”

“I think if we allow his to continue it will consume the world as a whole.”

Aurora nodded.

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Where are Mithras and Aion at present, by the way?”

“Safe, I hope,” Aurora sighed. An unwelcomed weight had settled itself once again in the pit of her belly. “Aion has been away for quite some time… helping to seal Uagadou in as many shield and protective charms as possible. We haven’t spoken for months. Last I heard he was busy gathering secret forces in Uganda, and back home in Mali and Ghana. But if wizarding war is unleashed in West Africa… I…”

Merlin, the mere thought set her nerves on fire. The utter chaos that even wizarding Britain could not fathom. The Muggle community in the sub-Sahara was not oblivious as British Muggles were. They were ready to find anyone of magical blood – they were ready for their own war. There would be nothing but bloodshed and death in every direction.

“It’ll be what happened to my mother all over again, by the hundreds of thousands,” she ended quietly.

The Headmaster almost looked as despondent as she felt. Good, I’ve finally been able to reach him, she thought. Maybe he realises how much this is going to cost me.

“I promise you,” he assured. “I and the Order are doing everything in our power to ensure that the greater community is protected at all costs.”

“It’s my brothers’ safety I am concerned about – not your ‘greater community’,” Aurora interjected, a slight tinge of venom on the tip of her tongue. “What price will they pay to keep that vessel open?”

“You are maintaining that vessel just as much as they. You are the one guarding the Hogwarts gate. What price are you willing to pay?”

Images of brothers who had raised her; a mother, long dead, who had loved her; the Ancient Runes teacher – Professor Lhoridi - who had become the best friend she never thought she could have; and the greasy-haired Arsehead who had inadvertently become her Everything in this arcane cosmos… all of them simultaneously walked into the room. They had become so tangible that she could almost reach out and hold them to her ribcage and never allow them to leave her presence.

“Me…” Aurora started, mental barriers still black and unfathomable behind her eyes. “I’d gladly step off the edge of the universe itself.”

The old wizard smiled, and finally she could feel something genuine radiate from him.

“I know you would,” he nodded frankly, pushing both mangled and healthy hands upon the arm rests and raising himself slowly from the chair.

“And I know he would do just the same for you…”

Aurora felt a sudden stab of validation deep within her.

Finally. He had finally admitted it, and she was still completely safe… he had not had to use Legilimency to find out the truth and it was sort of an unbearable kind of relief, even if he would still continue to drive them apart relentlessly.

But he would never drive them apart. Oh, she would make sure of it.

Dumbledore’s deep plum robes had almost skirted the edge of the door before he turned around.

“You are a most impressive Occlumens, Professor Sinistra. You must have had quite the gifted tutor.”

Ah… our games will never end, will they, Headmaster?

Aurora snorted as she began to scribble notes upon the first piece of parchment in front of her, entitled: Refuting the Significance of Sun Signs and Birth Charts – A Study to Completely Debunk the ‘Art’ of Divination: by Jessica Campbell. Well, Miss Campbell was going to get top marks for this, Sinistra was sure. Suck it, Trelawney, my N.E.W.T. students can eat yours for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“They might call themselves a gifted tutor,” she retorted without looking up. “I call myself the perfect student. And I think we both know who’s right.”

She heard him chuckling in the distance as the sounds of his footsteps drew further and further away down the corridor. Aurora tucked one wayward dreadlock back behind her ear and refused to muse on Dumbledore’s real intentions no longer… she would never get far, and she didn’t quite care to devote so much of her time to him anyway.

No.

She held out the anti-Divination thesis proposal in front of her instead and smiled emphatically at it.

This was definitely finding its way into Sybill’s pigeonhole tomorrow morning…

#Vivienne #Aurora Sinistra #Severus Snape #Albus Dumbledore #Half-Blood Prince #Severus Snape/Aurora Sinistra #Aurora Sinistra/Severus Snape #Hogwarts #Harry Potter #Sixth Year #pensieve

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magick-musings · 6 years ago

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Professor Nebulosa watched her students file into the room, badly masking curious glances but mercifully not whispering, yet. As fifth years, they had a good grasp on proper manners in the classroom, and they settled down without incident. As the last chair was scraping into place, she stood.

"Hello class, and welcome to the first lesson in Witchcraft held in Hogwarts in 3 centuries." Professor Nebulosa paused, and distantly noted a few uneasy students glancing towards the door. "My name is Professor Nebulosa, and I have been granted the honor of reintroducing witchcraft to the formal education curriculum in the British Isles. I have studied Witchcraft for the vast majority of my life. I was informally trained as a child in Bruxaria and Stregheria, which are the Brazilian and Italian folk magics. I attended the equivalent of my Hogwarts years deep in the Appalachian mountains (which is in the northeastern United States for those of you rusty on your geography). There are not many true boarding schools in the states, at least not for the younger crowd. We lived at home and attended standard mundane schooling a few days a week, in order to learn the standard reading, writing and arithmetic. I will hold all of you to a high standard of academic self expression, eloquence is absolutely essential in this murky field.

I then achieved my Mastery in witchcraft in the West Coast Academy, usually shortened to WCA and pronounced Wicca." Professor Nebulosa paused for laughter, but all she received were blank stares and a few tilted heads. She sighed deeply. "Clearly you have not received even a perfunctory glance at modern witchcraft, that one usually kills."

"Witchcraft, in this time, has gotten a rather bad reputation. After the muggle inquisitions and witch hunts, magicals made an effort to distance themselves from the stereotype and eschewed a whole branch of magic.

It is generally underestimated and overlooked as low magic, folk lore, women's work. Witchcraft is an umbrella term for any magic that does not use a wand. This includes Herbology, Potions, and Astronomy, as I'm sure you are all familiar with. It also includes Divination, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes, which you may have taken as an elective here at Hogwarts.

However, what has not been taught in Hogwarts are what I like to think of as interdisciplinary studies. The combination of all these branches of wandless magic will create more powerful spells than any one wizard could cast. Incantations are long and fickle, but not as bad as the runic transcriptions required to cast a proper circle.

Wizardry is neat, formulaic, and subdued. Most spells require a solid arithmetical base and precise magical control. Witchcraft is wild, messy, and raw. It requires a rabid ambition, a desperate and intentional grasp for power.

Wizardry is quite useful for creating charms to wash your dishes for you, that's most certain. I do not intend to minimize the endless conveniences we enjoy thanks to charms and transfiguration, the most precise forms of wizardry. But it does leave something to be desired, in my opinion.

Witchcraft, on the other hand, purposely eschews most conventions. Everyone's craft is different, there is no absolutely correct answer, and usually no sparks and lights to prove you've cast your spell. Effects are more long term and subtle. It requires astute observations, meticulous record keeping, and a deep knowledge in oneself in order to identify inconsistencies and changes.

Witchcraft has been overlooked for centuries in the wizarding world, for a number of reasons. The greatest was the pressing fear of the muggle witch hunts. Any similarities to muggle "witches" were outlawed in order to maintain the statute of secrecy in the paranoid time that necessitated the statute in the first place. Most wizardry can be contained in books, containing information, and wands, the only conduit they need. Witchcraft requires many physical components, from herbs to crystals to tarot decks to star charts to cauldrons to circles 10 feet in diameter carved into the ground. Witchcraft creates evidence.

Now, that we are no longer as blindly fearful and the mundanes, or muggles, as you call them, are no longer as bloodthirsty, we can start bringing back the old ways.

Wizardry has been sanitized. It disregards the wide varieties of magic practiced by people who aren't white males, and lately even shunning the spiritual roots. The simple magic of the cunning woman at the end of the lane to the deeply mystical wanderings of shamans deep in the rainforest has nearly been stamped out by colonialism and oppression.

I'm sure some of you may have heard of the controversy Dumbledore stirred when he banned our traditional holiday celebrations and replaced them with the christianized versions. The rituals of Samhain and Yule are half forgotten in this new generation, and I daresay even reaching to your grandparents' generation, and my aim is to fix that.

Witchcraft is so powerful even muggles can harness it, if properly motivated. Witchcraft calls on the power of the herbs and crystals and runes used to create the rituals. Witchcraft also calls upon the powers of ethereal beings, not unrelated the ghosts and poltergeists hogwarts hosts. They're a similar matter, incorporeal but occasionally visible to human eyes. They are more perceptible to our other senses, but it takes training to interpret those. Depending on who you ask, these entities may be Gods or Angels or Demons or Fae or anything in between. All mythology and folklore regarding them have some grain of truth. These entities, these expressions of divinity, exist universally among humans, yes even Muggles. The difference is the cultural lens we view them through. Not all gods are interchangable, some may be unwilling to work with you and some may demand your attention. This is part of what makes witchcraft so slippery, and dangerous, and supremely powerful. The first year of lessons will be comprised mostly of theory.

We will have a crash course on Ancient Runes, Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, for those who did not take those electives. This will occupy the first two weeks of class, we will be splitting up in order to only spend time on your needs.

Once we have sufficiently reviewed, we will begin the course work in earnest. Beginning with the study of cross cultural mythologies, we will begin close to home and spread out from there. This will occupy the entire first semester.

I know this may be intimidating, but I warn you. Do not discount the cultures you feel are irrelevant, or even primitive. Chances are, you will be contacted by an unexpected entity and you need a solid knowledge base to be able to identify them.

All units are a week long. I expect the reading on the subject to be completed by Monday, the first day of the Unit. You will be required to turn in a reflection and summary every Friday. I will be passing out the syllabus with the unit schedule and all the reading assignments. This will be a heavy course, you will be required to read and research more actively than most of your other classes. However, I did my best to limit the dry and ancient texts, for now. Most of our readings were written by my contemporaries, who did the tedious work of translating and analyzing and tweaking ancient magics to better suit our purposes.

Spring semester will be focused on methods of communication. This includes passive and active. Active communication consists of techniques to get their attention and express yourself to them. Passive communication is the art of listening, through a large variety of mediums. Not every medium may be compatible for you or your entity, so we will overview them in broad strokes. These methods include potions, runes, tarot, and more.

You will be learning all of this and more this year, and the following 3 years, should you decide to pursue your NEWTs. Technically, you are permitted to take only one year, receive your OWL in theoretical witchcraft, and call it quits. However, you will therefore not be certified to practice in private, and if you are caught you will face consequences from our dear Ministry. Now, I do not entirely agree with that punishment, but I do agree that supervised experience is essential.This is not standard procedure, in many other countries, especially the colonies that had their practices stamped out by the brutal boots of English invasions, they teach witchcraft to practitioners of all ages and provide safe and supervised environments to practice. There are many covens in the States, to varying degrees of secrecy and accessibility. I happen to have handfuls of contacts in most branches, which may prove useful to you should you prove yourself competent enough to keep up with the big boys.

Witchcraft is exceptionally dangerous. The hybrid of disciplines leaves much room for interpretation, yes, and even more room for disastrous results. Inexperienced practitioners risk hauntings, possessions, and absolute lunacy if they are unprepared for the burden of what they invoke.

Anyone caught dabbling in matters far over their head will answer to me, and it will not be pleasant. With that said, if you are drawn to matters far over your head, just tell me. I'd be delighted to point you in the right direction, recommend readings and supervise any extracurricular practice.

#mine

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brittnieprock-blog · 8 years ago

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Activity 4

Activity 4 Science Standards for the 4th grade. Standard A: Substandard A.4.1: “When conducting science investigations, ask and answer questions that will help decide the general areas of science being addressed.” • This standard is something that once I started to do in depth lab reports probably starting in the third grade. A hypothesis was made and then questions were supposed to be written down and asked to how the hypothesis was going to be answered. Almost all of the lab reports that I used to have to write up to eighth grade would involve asking the questions in order to successfully create a good lab report. Standard B: Substandard B.4.2: “Acquire information about people who have contributed to the development of major ideas in the sciences and learn about the cultures in which these people lived and worked.” • My chemistry class when I was a junior in high school, I remember doing a whole unit focusing on four or five major chemist. The only three I remember is Rosalind Franklin, Robert Boyle, and Dmitri Mendeleev. We had to research where they were born, what was their major contribution to chemistry, and if they studied somewhere. That is all I remember for specific detail but I do remember there was a small quiz asking questions about each person. Standard C: Substandard C.4.8: “Ask additional questions that might help focus or further an investigation.” • Once again in my chemistry class my junior year of high school in each lab report one of the questions that needed to be addressed in the conclusion was how the experiment could be further investigated. One experiment that I remember doing was on Valentine’s Day we made suckers from scratch. We had to boil the sugar to the right point and then a sucker would form. At the end of the lab in the conclusion as usual I was asked how this experiment could be furthered. Once again I don’t remember what I said but I do remember each experiment this question had to be answered. Standard D: Substandard D.4.3: “Understand that substances can exist in different states-solid, liquid, gas.” • In this class, Chemistry 105, the first activity that we had to do involved understanding the three different states of matter. With that this is not my first time learning about the three states of matter, I remember learning about it a long time ago. This is the first time that I actually did a lab that involved focusing and paying attention on how each state moves from one to another. Relearning this information is always nice because the three states of matter are basically seen in a person’s everyday life. Standard E: Substandard E.4.4: “Identify celestial objects (stars, sun, moon, planets) in the sky, noting changes in patterns of those objects over time.” • I took an astronomy class my sophomore year of high school. This class not only talked about the stars and the planets but it also talked about the geology of the Earth as well. For the astronomy part of the class every week or so I had to draw a portion of the sky and name the major constellations that was in that portion. One thing that I remember learning in the class that I still remember is that Orion’s Belt is only visible during the winter months, not during the summer months. Standard F: Substandard F.4.2: “Investigate* how organisms, especially plants, respond to both internal cue (the need for water) and external cues (changes in the environment).” • The only time I remember doing anything related to any of the substandard for standard F is when I took biology in high school. I remember placing a plant by the window and watered the plant every day. Then under a blue light, I believe it was, we placed the same type of plant and watered it every day as well. The object of this lab was to see in what environment the plant grows faster in. I don’t remember the exact outcome but this is one of the only science courses that I remember taking that covered this substandard. Standard G: Substandard G.4.5: “Ask questions to find answers about how devices and machines were invented and produced.” • Within standard G this substandard is the only one that I somewhat feel like I have learned something about. Not so much the ask questions part but I remember learning briefly on who invented major science machines and what impact they had on the evolving world of science. I don’t remember anything in details and that is about all I have in relation to this standard. Standard H: Substandard H.4.4: “Develop* a list of issues that citizens must make decisions about and describe* a strategy for becoming informed about the science behind these issues.” • Biology 111 here at UW-Stout the last unit that I did was learn how much I personally put an effect on the earth. With that there was a website that asked different questions like how long I shower per day, how many times I use paper towels, and how many pieces of paper I use, and etc. and by answering all these after a week of keeping track. This unit really puts in perspective how much a person uses daily and how much the earth is impacted by it. 1. One of the biggest changes that really caught my eye was the new science standards are really focusing on being able to relate what is being taught in the classroom to not only things that can apply to a lot of students in the real world but also gaining skills that can be used in other subjects as well. With that the old standards were more framed towards the students just understanding the history of science, and how to do labs successfully and how to do lab reports, etc. To me this is a good change because as a person who has always disliked science because I could never relate changing a penny to a gold color to the real world and how I would ever use that skill so I was never interested, and yes I actually did that as a lab. Another change is that past standards for each grades just assumed that ALL students learned what was supposed to be taught but that hardly was ever the case. 2. These standards are connected to math and literature because all subjects are trying to relate to one another. For example being able to do math calculations in the science lab and vice versa. With literature being able to read science labs and past reports and being able to have the skills to full understand what is being said. This is huge because being able to relate the core classes make it less far confusing because the subjects are actually related. 3. The biggest challenges I see that faces teachers with these new standards is that the world is always evolving and new technology tools are changing as well and not every teacher has the technological skills that they need to have. These new standards are focusing around technology and what comes with that is teachers need to be trained in new skills that they could potentially have never had any encounters in before. That’s why I think these new standards will be somewhat challenging to some of the teachers. 4. An opportunity I see for teachers to better engage students in the STEM fields is being able to relate what is being taught in the classroom to the real world. There is nothing worse than sitting in a classroom knowing that everything you are learning at that moment will never be used again unless it’s in a higher level course. Also being able to use new technology. Since technology is basically taking over this world students love it and want to use it, so take that to your advantage being a teacher and use tools that keep your students interested.

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luxe-ray · 8 years ago

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Water Wars: Book One Dilution. Chapter One

I was dead. So dead. I could already see Jesus waiting for me at the gates of heaven. I could only think of two words as I stumbled out of my bathroom.

Late. Dead. LATE. So dead.

I grabbed the first shirt and pair of sweatpants I saw before dashing out of my bedroom. I sprinted down the stairs causing loud stomping sounds to erupt from my feet.

“Calm down honey! You’re causing an earthquake!” my mom commented. Even in my panicked state, my mom still managed to make me cringe with her awfully clever analogies.

“I’m late, so late! Can I borrow your car? PLEASE MOTHER! If I’m late, I’ll get detention!” I pleaded. Yes, pleading, on my knees, eyes screwed shut, pleading.

My mother entered the foyer as she slowly sipped on her coffee. I was ready to yell again when she, tossed me the key card to the car. “Don’t speed. I do not want to receive telegram of your speeding ticket” she stated calmly.

“Thank you! Love you bye!” I said before running out of the house. Sparing no glances to the outside world around me, I slid the keycard unlocking the car with a click.

Good morning Zaera. A voice spoke. It was SAV. SAV stood for Speaking, Automatic Vehicle. It was in every flying car, although it only floated when there were actual passengers in it.

“Good morning SAV, take the shortest route to school” I stated as I began to get dressed in the backseat of the car.

Taking the shortest route to Skyline High School. All passengers put on seat belts, route beginning now.

Soon SAV had pulled out of the driveway and onto the empty street. As always I didn’t put on my seatbelt and fell down onto the backseat. I sighed deeply trying to make myself believe that I wouldn’t be late to school.

“SAV, why can’t you just fly over the other cars? I mean you are a flying car” I mumbled.

Zaera, you know it is against the law for flying cars to fly with passengers in them.

“Of course I know. It’s a stupid law that makes no sense at all. You are flying cars for christ's sake but you can’t fly! Are we almost there yet?” I said.

I just didn’t understand the concept of flying cars that can’t actually fly. Why upgrade something and then forbid the upgrade to use its full potential. It’s really a waste honestly.

You have arrived at your destination.

I slowly slid out of the backseat of the car. “Return home” I commanded before closing the door. I quickly shuffled towards the front doors of the school just as the bell rang. The pledge emitted from the speakers as I began to sprint down the hall. I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America...my lips unconsciously began to mouth the words as I closed in on my classroom. One nation under God, indivisible with liberty and justice for all...just as I opened the door.

“Ah, Miss Chandra glad to see you could make it to class. This is your third tardy-”

“I know Ms. Xiang, I promise it won’t happen again-”

“Do not interrupt me. Detention. After school today. Go to your seat” Ms. Yang reprimanded.

I lowered my head and hastily made my way to my seat. “Now today, we will finally be learning about the dreaded Water Wars. Put on your headphones and your readings will play” Ms. Xiang announced before settling at her desk. For about a minute or so, the classroom was filled with the orchestra of clicks and clacks made by keyboards. I casually scanned my class before my gaze fell upon on Emery. Emery was…intriguing. He, unlike a majority of people in our town, state...country, had dark brown eyes. His eyes were as dark brown as his hair, like smooth perfectly round chocolate balls. No one knew why his eyes were brown instead of the ice blue ones that everyone had. Because of that, a lot of people were scared of him-which was odd since he was sort of a lanky guy. Aside from that, he was always asking questions. Anything that had ears and could respond, Emery had probably already asked it a question.

He turned his head staring right at me causing me to freeze in my seat. His dark eyes were like the vortexes I had learned about in astronomy class...dark, empty and no one knowing what was inside. Like vortexes, Emery’s eyes were terrifying yet the curiosity pulled you in.

I continued to study his eyes wondering why they weren’t like everyone else’s. Realizing that I was still being a creep and ogling at the pale skinned boy, I looked away, my face becoming warm. Pretending that everything was fine, (and that I was not staring down one of my classmates) I put on my headphones and started my lesson.

“World War 3 also known as the Water War began in 2030 lasted for 30 years ending in 2060 leaving the world in complete ruins. Nations wiped out completely, first world countries turned into deserts, all because of water. Water that turned everyone competitive. Water, that corrupted the minds of every human on earth…water…”

My mind began to drift. I could feel Emery staring holes into the side of my smooth brown skin. I couldn’t help but bite the insides of my cheeks as if his eyes were actual lasers puncturing holes into my face. I nervously started to bounce my leg. That was all I could focus on. My leg. Bouncing quickly. Up, down, up, down, up, down, up, down, up.

“Finally, as the war came to an end…it was decided that water was toxic. As the world agreed to keep to themselves, trading stopped, wars stopped and all was well. It was also agreed by the former UN make water undrinkable by adding lead. Lead allowed water to only be used for bathing, cleaning of dishes…”

Again, my mind began to drift, but this time, I began to think about water. I began to think about how crystal clear it was. Water was like liquid diamonds, extremely reflective and beautiful to look at. Which also made no sense since lead was supposed to make it look brown. I began to wonder what it would taste like, but it was forbidden, the Leaders says it makes you crazy, water is what made our ancestors act in such harsh, violent ways.

“The only thing that made water valuable was the fact that it allowed us humans to continue to live by continuously circulating the blood flow of our bodies. But thanks to scientists, we created cider. Cider allowed us to continue living without the consequences that water brought, in order to live, one must drink one cup of cider everyday before one being their day….”

I gasped silently. Cider. I had forgotten to take my cider. My body reacted to the realization almost immediately. I could feel my body shaking. It was because my body was shutting down. My whole person, vibrating in the seat, getting ready to combust. I wanted to yell out. Go! Everyone! Run! Save yourselves! Save yourselves from my incredibly irresponsible mistake! But my mouth was dry. The dryness was taking over my throat. I could feel almost every vein in my body begin to slow down. Light yellow tears at the brim of my eyes.

My cheeks. I could still feel the penetrating holes in my cheeks. It was Emery, he was still watching me. His lips were moving but I couldn’t focus. I was dying! The last thing I wanted to do was decypher what the school freak wanted to tell me. My eyes dropped down to his rapidly moving fingers.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

He continuously snapped slowing bringing it up to his lips; my eyes following. Relax. He silently chanted the word. Relax. Relax. Relax. My horrid shaking began to stop. I blinked and one transparent yellow tear rolled down my puffed cheeks.

I wasn’t dead. No. I was alive. Very much alive. I didn’t drink my cider and I was still alive. I released a shaky breath. I said nothing, I just looked Emery in the eyes and he seemed to know.

The bell rang dismissing us from our first period class. Everyone shuffled out of class, except for me. I was waiting for Emery. After overthinking for the rest of first period, I decided it would be best to thank Emery to his face. I followed him as he left the classroom.

“Hey” I greeted after moments of walking down the bustling hallway in silence.

“Are you ok?” he asked, ignoring my greeting.

I paused for a moment. I didn’t actually know how I was feeling. After my meltdown in the classroom, everything went blank.

“I’m…I…I think I’m ok. I don’t really know” I answered honestly. We continued to walk in silence until I spoke up again.

“How did you know what was happening to me? Did you hear my gasps? How did you hear them if we were wearing headphones?” I questioned.

“You didn’t drink your cider did you” he stated. He didn’t ask but he announced it, as if he knew. The statement was said softly, almost inaudible but it felt as if the hallway was empty and the one sentence was bouncing off the walls.

“How did you know?” I asked. I was beginning to panic. Was it obvious I hadn’t? Would he turn me in? This morning was giving me a huge headache. Everything was shaking again.

“Your eyes” he whispered. Before I could question him anymore he scurried off to his next class, leaving me stunned.

The whole school day passed slowly. It didn’t just pass slowly, it dragged on. When you felt as if it was time for it to be over, there seemed to be another class. School was like a spiderweb, you think you’re almost out but there’s always one last string clinging onto your skin, refusing let you go. To let you leave. It was the same routine day after day for 180 days. Bell rings. Sit down. Computer lesson. Bell rings again. Up to your next class.

When the final dismissal bell rang, I hurriedly made my way to the detention hall. Our school, like other schools in the country, had a whole hallway for detention. Only to keep the same kin together. Those who had detention for tardies, like me…and others who had broken more serious rules.

D114. I placed my hand on the hand scanner and waited. Zaera Chandra, rule broken: tardiness. Punish time: 2 hours. The sliding door opened allowing me to enter. There weren’t many people in the room since most people weren’t tardy anymore especially after self driving cars, everyone took the long way to school and got ready in their cars. I stationed myself in the chair nearest to the door, already preparing myself to bolt as soon as my two hours were done.

The first 20 minutes were boring. I did nothing but use my phone. And then it died. I huffed as I placed the device onto the table and finally decided to survey the detention room. There were only three other people in the room besides the robot watching us and myself. One was on their phone, the other was sleeping and the last one…was staring directly at me. Just like Emery. The difference was she was a girl. An Asian girl with small almond shaped eyes and long brown hair that cascaded down her small body.

“You keep tapping for foot” she stated quietly.

“I know. I haven’t been able to stop all day” I replied calmly. I had only noticed my foot tapping during gym class as I was waiting to try out the new hoverboard and found myself wobbling on the board, because my leg wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I can make it stop” she said. I eyed her curiously. She was being odd. Emery odd. Why would she even want to help me? She didn’t know me at all. Would I even want her help? I definitely didn’t know her.

“Geez calm down. I’m not going to kill you,” she started, “After detention” she added before turning back around.

After that moment, detention seemed to only last for another 5 minutes. “You are now dismissed” the detention robot said and I bolted out the door. I needed to get home and drink my cider before it was too late.

“Do you not know what the word ‘wait’ means?!? In case you didn’t…according to the dictionary, it means to stay where one is!!”

It was the detention girl. I stopped and turned to her. “Who are you?” I demanded.

“Yve. The girl that is going to save your damn life if you just trust me Zaera” she explained.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME” I yelled. My voice echoed through the empty hallways. Yve didn’t answer.

“How, do you know my name?” I seethed.

“Because your mother….”

“My mother?!? What about my mother?!”

“Will you just shut the hell up for two minutes so I can speak?!?” Yve interrupted. There was more silence. Yve opened and closed her mouth multiple times.

“Come with me” Yve finally croaked.

Before I could respond, Yve was already down the hallway making her way outside. I, had no choice but to follow.

#writing #stories #my story #please read it #it would mean a lot #and also tell me what you think #I edited it and stuff from the last time so #water wars series

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