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Academy Redux³ [R]



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Fri Jun 22, 2012 9:20 pm
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Rosendorn says...



Dove | Cafeteria

That TWERP!

She had wanted to see what would happen with the vague trace of amusement around her. Dove flung whoever who had done that away to give her a chance to calm down. She yanked her hood back around her shoulders and looked around.

Only to see a very similar boy standing up, thoroughly dazed.

"Dougie."

He looked up, eyes wide, mouth set to go a mile a minute. "Oh hey Dove. Just thought I'd come over and see how you were doing. Not my best idea I know but—"

She cut him off. "You should know by now I Don't. Like. Pranks."

He smiled. "But pranks are fun! I've heard a story of two friends— maybe you've heard of them, they were at the superhero camp I went to every year, ring a bell? No? Well these two friends just kept pranking each other all the time. And you'd think they'd hate each other but when you actually talked to them— and let them get a word in edgewise, I suppose, that helps— then you'd know they were actually really good friends and liked each others' company—"

Dove tuned him out at that point. She could feel a knot of grief in her stomach at old memories. Dad loved pranks... I miss them. She blinked back tears when she remembered why he'd stopped, preventing herself from whispering 'Come back, Mom.'

She turned her back to him as he kept talking. When he finally realized she was walking down the hall, he jogged the few paces to catch up with her. "Dove, wait! I'm sorry, okay?"

She stopped, keeping her back to him. "For what, exactly?"

That actually seemed to catch him off guard. Dougie paused and thought about it. "Everything, I guess. I mean, I'm sorry I ran off when Steel went all crazy and I guess I'm sorry for pulling that prank on you but—"

"I'd have wanted you gone when Steel went out of control, either way."

She didn't give him enough time to respond before walking down the hall.
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.





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Sat Jun 30, 2012 8:25 am
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Lumi says...



Will McCoy | Greendale

Between the sonic squealing these little rodents were letting loose and the growls rolling out of Will’s mouth, he wasn’t sure which the students below would be more afraid of. It didn’t matter what was going on around him, how many times he got shot with paintballs or kicked in the nuts by some little pink four-armed alien--it just mattered that his team was going to win this fight.

While he gave scratches and swipes and leg sweeps to the little cretins, he couldn’t help but wonder what they’d even come to Earth for. They were so tiny, seemed so incapable of causing any real damage.

And that’s exactly the moment when a little blue one whipped out a remote and slammed his little hand on a big red button. The other aliens immediately stopped what they were doing. One unfortunate orange runt stopped dodging just as Will sent a roundhouse kick to the sucker’s face, sending him flying to another roof. But as the aliens stopped, slowly, Will’s friends stopped, too. And they all just stared at the sky, which was very quickly, very frighteningly becoming a deep shade of orange. Not peppy orange like from a football game, but evil orange, like a house fire--like the shade of dusk after a thunderstorm. Whatever it was, Will didn’t like it.

He pressed his hand down on his intercom button and tried to peel his eyes away from the sky. “Team, retreat immediately. To the base.”

“But Willllll--”

“GO!”

-- -- -- --

Not ten minutes passed before they had all returned to their cruddy hideout in the library wing. The others--save for West--had sat down, and were watching Will pace back and forth across the room, his hind paws making surprisingly fluffy noises as they padded against the carpet. When he’d finally had enough thought to himself, he sat down on the floor in front of the rest, tail tucked between his legs. He just stared at them.

And they stared back.

And his head drooped curiously to the side.

Andbutso just as Wayne opened her mouth to speak, the door to the study room burst open beneath West’s foot, kicked firmly into the knob. His arms were full of popcorn and Subway sandwiches. “I figured no one was gonna miss this, so I grabbed us some post-first-battle-pre-second-battle grub.”

Laila sat back and unwrapped a sandwich, taking a bite. “Sho Will,” she said, mouth full, “any great team-leader ideas, great team leader?”

“No,” he said, muffled, “not yet.” West dropped a bag of popcorn in front of him, and he leaned down, digging in without hands.

“What if we attack the aliens with Subway?” West dropped back into his own chair and kicked up his feet on Will’s back. “They’d never see it comin’, and they’d be so busy eating the crap that they wouldn’t even fight back.”

“Heavy must admit,” admitted Heavy, “Heavy would not fight back against not-so-pathetic humans wielding sandwich from submarines. Is good plan.”

Will left his popcorn and went to look out the window, watching the sky. As his energy finished draining out of him, his body began to return to normal. The paint looked even worse now than before, now that the mass of fur had screwed up the perfect coat. Now he just looked like a leper. He ran a hand through his sticky hair and crossed his arms, looking over his team. “My best guess is that they signaled for reinforcements, which just happened to be surrounding the campus. So the question is: how can we handle a few hundred of these guys?”

Addy scoffed. “We don’t. Remember how many cheap shots those little bastards took at us? Imagine what a hundred would do.”

They all fell silent, thinking. Will finally shook his head. “I’ve made a terrible mistake,” he said. “I’m totally clueless here--and to think I actually trusted Stark’s advice to just wing it.”

West shoved him down into a chair and stuffed a sandwich into his mouth. “Shut up,” he said, and turned the chair to face the window. West put his hands on Will’s shoulders and leaned down, getting creepy. “You’re Will Fuckin’ McCoy, and we’re all Super Fuckin’ Heroes. If Dr. Dawno’s final exams last year couldn’t stop us, a tiny fleet of aliens from a Disney movie sure can’t!” He spun Will’s chair around again and shoved a finger into his chest. “So, Will. What’s the plan?”

Feeling a sudden burst of inspiration, Will shot from his seat, planted his feet on the floor, and slammed his fist down on the desk beside him.

...inadvertently firing off the last paintball gun in their possession, covering his right hip in paint. Looking down, he groaned. “I just blue myself.”

West stood back, nodding. “Helluva plan, my good man.”

Will suddenly began thinking in the midst of everyone laughing.

Why would the aliens choose Greendale instead of any other city on Earth?

Why would they choose Greendale today?

What made Greendale special today, apart from any other place?


“The answer,” shouted Will, “is paint!”

The others stopped, grew eerily quiet, and stared at him.

-- -- -- --

It didn’t take long to gather up their plan of attack. Half had ransacked the cafeteria for reserve supplies of paint while the others raided the Dean’s office, finding stashes upon stashes of paint littered in his closet among Flamenco dresses and freakish dalmatian costumes. When they’d gathered everything up, they loaded it onto a cart and let Heavy push it into the parking lot.

And they waited.

“Are you sure about this, McCoy?” Laila seemed unpleased with the plan, and had spent the last ten minutes picking paint chips from her nails.

“Just have some patience, and wait for it. If I know irony, and this dimension seems to run on it, then we should be meeting their leader just...about...”

There was a long, inappropriately awkward pause.

And it kept going.

_____________And going.

__________________________And going.

Finally, when the Conga music had finally come to an end and Heavy had run out of things to pick from his nose, West vanished, returning a few seconds later with a small, blue, furry alien in an orange jumpsuit.

“Now,” Will said with a triumphant grin.

“Ik volokoff mishkrack!” Something on the alien’s suit beeped.

“Excuse me?” Wayne interjected.

“It means,” said the alien in a deep British accent, “Translation Activate. And it worked.” The little guy looked at Will and his companions. “Why have you sent your odorous companion after me?”

“We have,” said Will, taking another pause, “a gift. Laila?”

Laila pulled the tarp off of the cart full of paint, revealing all the colors they had gathered. If it had been full daylight, like in Will’s imagination, the paints would have sparkled. But it was twilight, and nothing sparkles in twilight.

“Oh my,” said the leader. “That is quite alluring. How were you aware of our chromatic desires?”

Will grinned and put his hands on his hips. “We honestly have no clue whatsoever!”

“Well, be that as it may, your peace offering is quite sufficient; however, I’m afraid there’s the matter of the ship your friend wrecked earlier...it cost quite a few, how do you say--pesos.”

“Ah--I, uh. Hm.”

West jerked his head to the side, hearing the faint sound of congas striking back up, and vanished once again, returning with a stereo ripped from a wall in one arm, and a CD labeled *~SUPA CONGA GROOVE~* in the other. “I think this’ll do!” He dropped both into the cart and crossed his arms.

“Is that your delightful music?”

“Afraid so,” West said.

The leader gasped. “Then it’s a deal!” The leader turned and took out a remote from his suit, pressing a big red button. “I wish you a happy life and many more fruitless conquests!”

And with that, the little blue alien, along with his fleet of invading ships, vanished into the dusk. West put an arm around Will’s pink shoulders, getting stuck there. “Good job, bro. You’re not a total screw-up after all.”

“West?” Will asked.

“Yeah, bud?”

“Get off me.”

West tugged against Will’s sticky skin just as the transport device began shining. “Team! Let’s go home!

Spoiler! :
End Chapter 2
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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eldEr says...



The Greendale Invasion
Chapter Three: Can You Teach Me How To Dougie?


Wayne | Meeting Room

Wayne tapped her foot softly- almost soundlessly- against the floor, going very tired of the stalling at a very rapid pace. She didn't care if it had only been three minutes, or if it had been an entire three hours, she wanted the beloved Doctor to just shut up and hand them their papers already.

She had things to tinker with. And freshies to find and continue to pummel (what? The kid obviously had to learn a lesson).

Finally, the papers were brought out with a dramatic flourish of hand and held out in an enticingly secretive manner. Wayne was practically drooling- running her tongue along the bottoms of her top teeth, heart fluttering, stomach twisting. It wasn't so much the revealing of the grades, but the squandering- the obliteration- the complete destruction- of her competition, that was getting her worked up.

She'd been resourceful. She hadn't sawed anyone's limbs off. And she hadn't squealed in delight and begged to take one of the enemy home, simply because it had cute eyes.

It was obvious that she was going to get the best grade.

She held the inside of her lower lip between her teeth, holding her breath as the Doctor ever-so-secretively handed a paper to West. Her eyes lingered on her teammate's face for a second, reveling in the unreadable expression. Unreadable expressions were usually a sign of negative emotions, right? Psh, of course they were. Had to be.

Laila was next. Wayne didn't bother watching the girl- no, because her paper was next.

The Doctor (damn him), seemed to pause for a second. The mischievous spark to his eyes, the-- what the hell were his eyebrows doing? Eyebrows were facial hair, not ballerinas, was he- oh, he was, too. Stalling. In reality, Wayne wasn't waiting any longer than the two before her- but God, she hated his slimy guts.

He didn't even have time to hand it out all the way before Wayne snatched it, a low hissing noise just begging to come out of her throat. She settled for a level glare and took a step backwards, shielding her paper from the others.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the corners, three of which were decorated (if you could even call something so hideous a decoration) with disturbingly adorable ponies. The multicolored glitter smeared all over the place didn't help things.

Wayne wrinkled her nose, eyes slowly drifting away from the distracting sparkles, hovering over a big, red B in the bottom-left hand corner.

B?

B?

There was a spark of anger, which quickly gave way to frustration, and then melted to some sort of gratification. B was probably still better than anybody else got, and as long as she'd gotten better, she'd be satisfied.

Mostly.

Either way, it made her jaw twitch. She glanced up, eyeing the back of Heavy's head, and then Addy's. She chose to grin, because grinning implied that she'd done exceedingly well.

And implying that she'd done exceedingly well added to her intimidation level, which ultimately added to her if-you-speak-to-me-you-die air. And she was, of course, rather fond of that air.

Wayne folded her paper and took the fraction of a step it would require for her to be back in her respectful position.

And then she saw- no, she heard Addy.

Addy was squealing.

Damn. You.

Wayne's grin fell immediately, ears twitching with that unfathomably awful noise. It was a noise of joy, and a noise made in joy could only mean so many things.

Addy was either 1.) overreacting without reason 2.) overreacting because maybe, just maybe her paper had informed her that she was on par with Wayne, or 3.) overreacting because her paper had informed her that she had exceeded Wayne.

Wayne pursed her lips, crumpled the paper in one hand and turned on her heel, headed straight for the door, ignoring every voice, inhale, exhale and awkward shift she was leaving behind.

She stormed down the hallway, fists clenched, jaw set, stride communicating a particularly pissy attitude with the world in general. All she could think about was her room. Or her lab. Ruining somebody's life. maybe she'd weld Addy's door shut. Steal her makeup. Shred every scrap of pink in her wardrobe. Break the heels off her shoes.

Breathe, Wayne.

Although, all of the formerly processed ideas sounded terribly delicious. Particularly the ones involving high heels and clothes-shredding. Wayne hated the clacky noises heels made, and she preferred not to be blinded by bright, happy colours.

A flash of bodysuit caught her eye, and her step slowed. Right on cue, there was a very Dove-like, "How was the meeting?"

Wayne only paused for a second to shoot her a look, stuffed her hands in her pocket and kept walking. "Great, until Addy started squealing."

Dove winced in Wayne's peripheral.

"Have I ever mentioned that she really, really pisses me off?" She almost spat to the side for effect, but thought better of it. "Because she does." Of course she knows. She's an empath. She knows everything.

All she got was a nod from the hovering super-in-training. There was a pause, neither saying anything, one fuming and the other contemplating. It was broken by an, "I've heard the sparring rings are open."

Wayne tipped her head up to the ceiling, just for a second, step stopping completely. Thank you for adding a dash of sanity to this hellhole of morons. She glanced at Dove over her shoulder, refusing to let go of her moody expression. "That so?" Okay, so she couldn't help but smirk a bit. "What the hell are we walking towards the dorms for, then?"
Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurl.

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Kale says...



Sorm | Hideout

After making a quick stopover to nab that fine turban pin, Sorm retreated to his hideout in the bushes outside the girls' dorm and proceeded to create his newly improved and ideal hat.

It was a long and involved process involving lots of sticky glue sticking to sticky claws and ribbons and glitter getting everywhere in places glitter never should ever get, but in the end, Sorm was satisfied. His hat glittered in the faint light of dusk, the feathers atop bristling in glorious color. The ribbons bounced gaily with their carefully curled curls, and the turban pin he'd spiraled by hand now sported a carefully dyed hair tassel, ribbon still entwined. All-in-all, it was perfect, and as Sorm held his marvelous creation up to the dying light, he smugly concluded that no one could resist the sight of such magnificence as this:

sormhat.png
Oh! The glittering glory!
Secretly a Kyllorac, sometimes a Murtle.
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Lauren2010 says...



Bri Stark | Bri's Workshop

Bri walked back to the workshop. She didn’t needed JARVIS’ nagging in her ear to know her power source was low. Despite everything she had done with every damn suit she made, she could never get the power source to last.

She sighed, recalculating and mapping new schematics in her mind as she walked. A good shouting match always did do wonders on clearing her head.

By the time she reached her workshop, she had almost entirely drafted a new design.

She yanked off the chest plate, gloves, and boots and tossed them into a heap of wire and metal on one of the tables in the workshop. Dimitri was still there, set at work on one Bri’s main computer with Connie sitting patiently at his side.

“Messing with a Stark’s computer, unsupervised?” Bri asked as she slid into her spinning leather office chair and twirled once or twice before coming to face Dimitri again. “You have a death wish or something?”

“No more than you do,” he said, tilting his head toward her slightly, shooting her a playful glance. “Testing a suit that’s not even a quarter finished.”

Bri shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a Stark.” She eyed Dimitri as he carefully navigated through her computer system. At her angle now, she could see Connie hooked into the system as well. “If you act like it’s gonna break, you’re gonna break something.”

He turned to her. “Excuse me?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

She groaned and pushed herself out of her chair. She nudged Dimitri out of the way and took a moment to glance over what he was working on. “Backup power system, nice,” she said. She started typing, her fingers flying over the keyboard without much thought on her part. “Dad programmed JARVIS himself,” she continued. “He’s called artificial intelligence for a reason. He can handle anything you throw at him.” She stepped back and nodded toward the monitor. The program was fully installed and already charging. “When you’re me, you kind of need something indestructible.”

Dimitri only laughed, shaking his head.

Before either of them could say anything else, Bri’s phone rang loudly from where she left it sitting on her workbench earlier that afternoon. She grabbed it, quickly flipping away from a previous conversation with Will as Dimitri leaned over her shoulder. It was a text from Addy.

Conversation: Addy Ellis
Addy: We’re off! Have a great time training! ^_^
Bri: Bah
Bri: Addy. Addy come back.
Bri: If you don’t come back I’m going to go insane.
Bri: I WILL DESTROY THIS TEAM AND BATHE IN THE RUIN OF ITS DESTRUCTION
Two New Messages
Addy: We’re back! Where are you?
Addy: I got a B!!!! Where are you? I want to celebrate!

She shoved her phone in her pocket and ran for the workshop door.

“Where are you going?” Dimitri called behind her.

She stopped in the doorway, unable to hide the grin from her face. “You can finish this on your own, can’t you?”

He nodded and she took off down the hallway. She slowed to a jog as she neared the transporter their team was scheduled to come in on. Wayne stalked down the hall toward her, a paper crumbled in her hand and a scowl as deep as space on her eyes.

Bri reached out and ruffled her hair, taking off in a sprint before she had a chance to react. “Good to see ya back, Techie!” she called as she rounded the corner.

“Bri!” Addy shouted as soon as Bri came around into the connecting hallway.

“Addy!” she shouted back, running and throwing her arms around the other girl’s neck. “Good god Addy I was this close to throwing Dougie off the edge of this goddamn asteroid.”

She only laughed and pulled back, flashing her B grade in Bri’s face.

Bri snatched the paper away and read her evaluation. “Damn, girl, you kicked ass.”

Addy beamed as she linked arms with Bri and pulled her down the hall in the direction of the girl’s dormitories. “And as I reward, I think I’d like some of your famous hot chocolate.”

Not even an hour later the two girls were lounging in Addy’s room, a whole thermos of hot chocolate sitting between them as Addy painted her nails and Bri sketched out plans for her suit. Some romance movie that Addy had in her collection was playing on the small television in the room, though neither of them were watching.

Addy was busy recounting their entire mission, and Bri was multitasking. She nodded along with Addy’s story, and her hand drifted over her notebook, but her mind was more focused on the frustration that was Dougie Meredith. With everything else going on with being a team leader and rebuilding her suit, she knew she didn’t have time to mess with getting Dougie up to snuff before their first mission. But she knew who did.

She grabbed her phone and flipped to her text conversations.

Conversation: Dog Boy McCoy
Will: I'm back at school, can't find you. Do you have cereal?
Bri: I'm going to destroy you, Dog Boy.
Bri: Couldn’t you have just thrown your dart at Dougie’s face?
Will: What was your dad thinking, making me a leader?
Bri: I will bury you in bedrock and dance on your early grave.
Will: Have you seen my toucan?

She slid her phone to reveal a keypad and started typing:
Bri: CHEER UP/HANDLE/KILL/DESTROY DOUGIE OR I WILL OBLITERATE YOU

“Oooh, who are you texting?” Addy asked, leaning over to watch over Bri’s shoulder.

Bri turned her phone away and shot her a glare. “Just Will,” she said. “He wanted to know if I had time to go over mission strategy later.”

“You should see if he wants to come over for hot chocolate!” she said. A blush rushed over her cheeks as soon as she heard herself. “I’ll text Dove and Laila, maybe West, and see if they want to come too.”

Looking at the obvious hopefulness Addy tried to hide in her expression, Bri groaned and reluctantly typed another message:
Bri: ...Addy says come over later for some hot chocolate.

She set her phone on the ground and looked to Addy as she poured them each the last of the hot chocolate in the thermos. “Addy,” she said. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Addy smiled and gave Bri’s hand a squeeze. “I missed you too, Bri.” She pulled her to her feet, the thermos still in her hand. “We need to make more hot chocolate if we’re going to have company!”

She skipped off toward the kitchen and Bri laughed, shook her head, and followed.
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Lumi says...



Will McCoy | The Showers

Will fell against the shower wall, teeth gritted together and muscles tense. His skin was beginning to burn from the friction, but he’d been at his task for an hour, and he had never been one to give up before.

No matter how hard he scrubbed, the majority of the paint wouldn’t budge. Defeated and frustrated, he gave the shower curtain a high kick, sending it flying across the bathroom and into another dude’s shower, eliciting a girlish scream. He gathered his things and wrapped a towel around his waist, and sulked off to his room. Taped to his door was a printoff of his grade report from the mission, but he didn’t even want to read it.

Truth be told, Will already knew his grade would be dismal. He clearly wasn’t cut out for a leadership role, and his team had nearly been blown to bits because of it. Without a doubt, Doctor Headmaster would be taking him out of his position ASAP.

He yawned, lying back on his bed and stretching his arms out behind his head. It’d been a long day, and he deserved a good, long res--

“SURPRISE, MOTHAFUCKA!” West barged into Will’s room with Maracas and a bottle of tequila, but lost most of his buzz when he saw lazy!Will lying in bed. West scrunched up his nose and put down the bottle of tequila, throwing a maraca at Will’s chest. He caught it and twisted the instrument around in his fingers, the beads inside rattling like raindrops. “We completed our first mission as a team! We deserve a little What-The-Fuckery!”

Will rolled his head to look at his buddy, and then slowly rolled up and out of bed, grabbing some clothes out of his closet. “You can drink until you puke girls’ phone numbers, but I don’t feel much like celebrating.”

West fished a fake mustache out of his pocket and smacked it on his upper lip. “I refuse,” he announced, taking a long-ass swig of tequila, “to take no for an answer.” West grabbed the other maraca from Will’s bed and stowed them somewhere inside his shirt. “I can’t risk your bad mood breaking my maracas. I spent twenty bucks on those bitches.”

“Your drunk ass will find a way to break them no matter what mood I’m in.” Will hobbled, bumping into his desk as he pulled on his jeans. They were uncomfortably tight, meaning his body hadn’t perfectly adjusted back to his more human appearance. Sometimes, Will wondered which was natural. He noticed his phone blinking at him from beside his laptop and plopped down into his desk chair, kicking his bare, blue feet up onto his desk, scrolling through alerts. “Huh,” he hummed, “text from Heavy.”

West tried to stand on his head across the room, using his hands to balance on the floor. “I’m surprised he can manage using a phone without breaking it in half.”

“Oh, he can’t.” Will pulled open a drawer in his desk. “He breaks a phone every week, and gives me the spare parts. I think he confuses me a lot with Dimitri.”

His conversation with Heavy was pretty easy to follow, if you spoke Heavy.

Big-Ass Dude From Russ: Lortle dog man where du I fond carfteria
Will: Just follow the smell of burnt cabbage, then turn around and leave Sorm’s room and follow the signs that say Cafeteria. Enjoy.
Big-Ass Dude From Russ: I wamt sausageq you shoq me sausager yes
Big-Ass Dude From Russ: leetle dogma nHeavy Mother callef and says Vulva makes new fun times and need Heavy back tonight goodbye thank your for sausages
Big-Ass Dude From Russ: Heavy means Valve, not Vulva. Dorm you ottocorrect

“Dammit!”

“What’d he say?” asked West before toppling onto his ass.

“He said he had to go home.” Will scrunched up his eyebrows and re-read the text. “So our team is out a tank.” He let out lots of incoherent, angry grumbles before grabbing a broken phone from his drawer and throwing it at the wall. It shattered, and West poked one of the remaining pieces with the handle of a maraca.

“Dude, if you wanna start throwing shit, I’ll go get my water balloons and we can give Bri’s workshop a little rainstorm.”

“No,” he said, dropping his head onto his desk. It hurt much more than depicted online.

Then his phone rang.

Glaring at the screen, he saw his favorite contact name of all.

Antichrist Devilhips

West ran over, leaning over his shoulder to read. “I don’t think you’re really in a position to call her the Antichrist when you totally almost bone—“

“—it was over a year ago, and she’s become assertively more evil since.” Will shot West a glare and grabbed the bottle from his hand, filling up a tiny paper cup on his desk and taking a shot.

“Is there something going down?”

“Nah, Dougie’s had it hard—don’t laugh at that—this week, and needs a friend. So I need to be gay for a night.”

West mulled this over, furrowed his eyebrows, and sat down on Will’s bed. “If that’s the case,” he said, “I suggest you take chapstick.”

“Chapstick?”

“Your lips are fuckin’ wastelands, dude.”

Will’s head drooped to the side. “How do you even know th—“

“Just do it.” He grabbed his stuff and stroked his fake mustache. “Tell Dougie I said hello, and to have you back by morning.”

Will grabbed a pair of shoes and a watch from his desk. “If I’m not back by then,” he tied off his shoes, “send for help.”

-- -- --

Will stood outside Dougie’s door with ears perked up at music rolling around inside and flowers that he’d stolen from the cafeteria tucked behind his back. Waiting for a break in the music, he tapped on the door.

And instantly, the music cut. In fact, Will couldn’t even hear the poor guy breathing inside, which was worrisome.

“Dougie?” he called, laying his head against the doorframe. “Dougie, it’s me, Will.”

There was a long, soft exhale inside, followed by several locks tumbling inside the door before it opened to a pair of terrified eyes. Will smiled.

“Hey there, Dougie. I hope you’re feeling dance-y tonight!”

Dougie’s eyes narrowed. “I always feel dance-y.”

Will nodded and pulled out the flowers. “Then come with me—we’re hittin’ the clubs tonight.” Really, in full disclosure, he winked. He winked and didn’t regret it.

“C-clubs? Clubs are full of people, and I don’t know if I can handle that kind of stress—I mean, they’re saying these days that stress equates to creating a fight-or-flight reaction in the human body, and I don’t really think that’s healthy in frequent situations. I mean, really, how often do you really need to run or die? Granted, the rate is much higher since we’re heroes and all that, even though Bri doesn’t think I’m much of a hero at all and all that, but still, I feel the same kind of stress the rest of you do, and I’m only, like, the worst hero ever! Speaking of which, how did you do on your mission revie—“

Will reached out and grabbed Dougie’s wrist, shaking his head. “Dougie,” he said, silencing him, “I just want to take you out tonight.”

“…really?”

“All the way to Earth.”

“But you’re not g—“

“I’m Will!”

Dougie pursed his lips and stared at Will’s face, watching for some kind of lie-tell. “Your face is not as Will-tanned as it usually is.”

“There was a paint incident.”

Dougie took his thumb and licked it, smudging it against Will’s chin and smearing a bit of the paint off. “We’ll work on that on the way to New York, yeah?”

“You can clean me all you want!”

Dougie raised an eyebrow. “If this is some attempt at indicating that you’re a dirty boy, be it metaphorical or literal—because honestly, given my fantasies, both can apply—then you’re being rather blunt about it, which leads me to believe that you may have something off-hand in mind for tonight, and I’m not sure you’re really up to that, but I should really stop psyching you out about this because I’m kind of excited.” He paused. “Let me get my bag.”
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


I am the property of Rydia, please return me to her ship.





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Rosendorn says...



Dove | Academy Halls

"What the hell are we walking towards the dorms for, then?"

Dove managed a small smirk back at Wayne. “So you can get your stuff to spar?”

Her former smirk was now a wicked grin. “That’s a stupid question, Dove, but I’ll answer it anyway. Yes. Yes I can.”

Dove chuckled, holding back the you’ll need those supplies line she’d given her friend a few dozen times already. “I’ll go snag the room.”

Wayne turned on her heel, speaking half over her shoulder. “Got it. I’ll be there in... oh, around ten point four minutes.”

With that conversation finished, Dove levitated and began flying towards the sparring wing. The halls were rather empty, with a lot of juniors and sophomores in classes. It was a quick flight and three rooms were open.

“Waiting for Rachel Wayne,” she told the staff member at the desk. “Tell her which room to go to.”

The staff member nodded, and indicated which room she’d selected. Dove walked the remaining distance and typed into the keyboard at the door.

Setting: Urban
Players: Two
Person 1: Rachel L’Roth
Person 2: Rachel Wayne
Match Type: Player vs. Player


The room would take a few minutes to build the hologram, which gave Wayne just enough time to show up.

By the clock in the hallway, Wayne, indeed, took ten point four minutes to arrive. Dove glanced at her. “Nearly ten point five minutes.”

She waved a hand, adjusting one of the batarangs on her belt. “I said ‘around’, didn’t I?”

Dove shook her head. “Since when do you use that as an excuse?”

There was the slightest trace of annoyance in her. “Since the staff forgot which room to tell me to go to and actually had to look it up. Now shut up and let’s spar.”

Dove opened the door to reveal the urban setting. It appeared to be a cross between Gotham and Jump City, which would give them different pockets of experience. It was a map they’d used before, and usually resulted in the most fun.

The voice inside the simulator spoke from somewhere above. “Do you want any other simulations?”

Dove glanced at Wayne, who looked indifferent. She looked around the city, then back at Wayne.

“Want to face a bunch of holograms on your own, in case this turns into a game of hide and seek?”

She snorted. “Why do you even ask me these things?”

Dove shook her head and called out, “Yes.”

The simulator spoke again. “Allies or foes?”

“Foes.”

A beeping sound began in the chamber. It began counting down from ten, giving them a chance to prepare.

“Begin.”

Dove levitated and turned towards Wayne, spell on her lips and magic beginning to form around her hands.

Wayne was pulling batarangs out of her belt. “Let’s dance.”

She didn’t give Dove time to respond before letting them fly. Dove threw up a barrier and held it, letting two explode against the magic. Wayne was already beginning to run around the barrier, trying her usual surprise attack.

“Azerath Metrion Zinthos!”

Dove let loose a blast that landed right where Wayne normally would've jumped for her kick. Instead, a punch came through the smoke and landed on the side of her ribs.

Dove grunted and sent blast straight to Wayne's chest, throwing her back. Before the girl could recover her breath, Dove let her soul come out of her body and fly her away.

Wayne tailed her— a fairly easy task, with a grey bird flying around— before ducking out of the streets. Dove could feel she wasn't standing still, not giving her a chance to lock on any target. She wasn't about to.

She touched down on a building's roof, catching her breath a moment. So long as she stayed above the situation and Wayne didn't plant any bombs higher up— which she would do— Dove would be fine.

After a steadying breath, she sensed a very familiar presence slip over the rim of the skyscraper and hide behind a building on the roof.

Of course.

"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" The building she was hiding behind pushed back, forcing Wayne to expose herself to a magic blast.

Right after she sent the bolt, Wayne triggered one of her explosives very close by. Dove couched to automatically form a bubble around herself, phasing through to the next floor of the building. After a quick look around the empty room, light provided by the hole in the ceiling, Dove phased down to the next floor.

Shortly after, she heard a groan.

She suppressed a chuckle as Wayne dropped down to the floor above. And, Dove knowing Wayne the way she did, knew there would be a black figure emerging from somewhere nearby. Dove phased down one more floor and ran through a few rooms to get to the window. An explosion rang out through the building from the floor above. One final phase later, and she was back to flying above the streets.

In very little time after, Dove sensed her chaser reach the window. Through the glass and from across the street she was able to hear, "Damn you, Dove!"

Dove simply smirked and waved over her shoulder. Wayne ran away from the window and came back with a piece of furniture.

She didn't wait around to watch Wayne shatter the window. She flew down a narrow alleyway, knowing full well it would simply provide the perfect places for that girl's grappling hook to latch onto. Which was exactly what Wayne did next.

Dove kept very careful track of where Wayne was swinging, waiting until she was committed to letting go and landing on a Dove-shaped target before acting.

Whispering her spell, she shifted into a bird and shrank, making herself an impossible target to land on.

Wayne sent out another grappling hook to prevent from falling and retaliated with flinging more exploding batarangs, which required a bit more effort in dodging. Dove slipped down closer to the road and turned down another side street, continuing to fly and get away as fast as possible.

The chase continued through grappling hook and flight. Wayne attempted to catch bird!Dove between her feet, which just got a smirk from her as she flew down to the ground. Once Wayne hand landed, she shifted again, into a tiger.

"At least you're an easier target," Wayne muttered, letting loose another explosive. Dove leaped up and shifted back to human, letting loose a two-handed stream of magic straight for Wayne.

She was quick to spin out of the way and change her attack to a lunge. Dove spread her hands, channeling her magic into a bar. Wayne simply dropped after hitting it and rolled, ending up under Dove to grab her foot for a takedown. She got another bolt of magic to her chest for her trouble.

The girl had too many batarangs. Dove used the same hand to throw up a shield. When there wasn't any reprise on her foot, Dove found it in her to kick the body armour covered arm Wayne had left exposed.

She grunted and let go, giving Dove time to get up and receive a kick to the chest in the process. The strength of the impact made her yelp. She couldn't say anything from the wind knocked out of her lungs, forcing her to send a much weaker blast towards Wayne; it only knocked her back a few paces.

But before either of them could move any farther, the setting itself seemed to vibrate. The buildings rippled, turning the space into a white room.

"Critical damage received. Simulation ended. Winner: Rachel Wayne. Margin of victory: Five per-cent."

Dove took a deep breath, filling what felt like bruised lungs with air, as Wayne let out a woop.

Dove shook her head, feeling spots in her vision from the magic strain she'd just put herself under. "That's what I get for actually trying to fight you instead of just tying you up when I'm feeling too tired."

Wayne just grinned. One of the few full grins Dove had ever seen her make. "What can I say? I'm sort of a beast."

Dove rolled her eyes. "After fighting me for how many years?"

She snorted. "Yeah, well. You can fly and shapeshift and you have magic and I *still* beat you, and right at this very moment, it's a very pleasing fact. Don't rain on my parade."

Dove just smiled and began walking out of the simulator. The idea had been to cheer her up, which meant refraining from commenting on a simple five percent victory. Mission accomplished.
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

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Sins says...



Douglas Meredith | Boys' Dorms

Holy mother of mackerel, never in my life had I received a more fabulous offer! As Will fabulously waited outside my room, I began packing my bag with all things fabulous. I even grabbed a handful of glitter because, well, you never know when you're going to need glitter. I shoved whatever else I needed into my bag and before I knew it, it was packed and I was ready to leave.

As Will and I began strolling down the hallway and out of the boys' dorms, he smacked my ass before resting his arm across my shoulder, and I almost exploded with excitement. At this rate, I was going to get a boner before we'd even left the academy.
* * * *

The journey to earth mainly consisted of me more than happily trying to wipe all the paint off Will's face, and if I may have said so myself, I did a rather smashing job. Ah... Will's face. I liked Will's face. It was a nice face. He had nice teeth too, and his hair was always so soft, and his voice was so insanely soothing, and his hands were really smooth too, and oh my life, I wanted to make sweet love to him and get married and buy a house and paint that house in purple glitter because pink was totally overrate--

"This place looks pretty sweet." Will's voice snapped me out of my fantasy.

We'd been walking around what Will called the party scene of New York in search of a good club to go to, and as I looked up, I noticed we'd stopped outside one whose logo looked like a croissant. That in itself enticed me.

"Fuck it, let's go in here," I replied with the biggest grin ever.

Once we were inside, although I was thoroughly disappointed to find that they didn't serve croissants, I figured the place looked pretty cool. They had this swanky red and black theme going on that made me feel butch, which really said something considering making me feel the slightest bit butch was like trying to cook asparagus using a popcorn maker. But seriously, don't ever try that.

"I'll grab us some drinks. You brought glitter with you, right?" Will asked as I sat down inside one of the table booths. I nodded with pride, which Will responded to with, "glitter vodka shots it is!"

"You know it, gurl!"

As Will pushed his way through the crowd to order our drinks, I didn't take my eyes off his ass once until it was out of sight. Not as nice as West's ass (I doubted that was even possible), but sure as hell good enough. Due to me being a butt pirate, a nice ass was vital, and Will sure did check that box. Once he was out of sight, I shut my eyes and started listening to the shit they were booming through the loudspeakers. My goldfish, Hammy-G, could've made better music than this, and he died when I was ten. I held a funeral and everything.

The music hadn't improved at all by the time I opened my eyes, but I did notice Will making his way towards me with two vodka shots and what looked like a Coke for himself. Will being Will, he knew the drill and so without saying a word, he handed me the vodka, I thanked him, reached into my bag, brought out my box of glitter and sprinkled the stuff over our table and into the shots like it was freaking popping candy. We both downed the drinks in seconds.

"This music's pretty shit." Will had to shout because our ears were currently being raped by the music he'd just offended.

Amen, I thought. Although as I caught sight of the dance floor, an idea shot into my head and a grin erupted onto my face. I was totally going to bring this place down with a little dance I liked to call the cha-cha-cha. Nightclub style.

"That is true, but Will, my dear old chap, don't you worry. Even the crappiest music is danceable when you're as fabulous as me."

Without waiting for his response, I jumped up from the booth and practically sprinted over to towards the dance floor. Luckily for me, there were a number of podiums dotted around the place and either everyone was too pussy to dance on them, or they weren't there to be danced on. Whatever the case, I hopped onto the one that was placed right in the middle of the room in classic Dougie style. By now, Will had left the booth and was watching me from afar on a raised platform. And so as the next song's beat began to play, I began doing what I felt was my purpose in life.

My god, you should've seen the stares I got.

Within the first minute of the song, I'd fully kicked in to the cha-cha-cha and my hips were at it like there was no tomorrow. I was never one to blow my own trumpet but as I danced that night, my lines were pretty damn slick and my feet were moving so fast, I was surprised I didn't start burning a hole in the podium I was on. Best of all though, it was all in time to the crap being played through the loudspeakers. I was having so much fun that I didn't even notice at first when some dark-haired chick with bazookas the size of steroid-fuelled watermelons jumped onto the podium and started dancing with me. Once I did notice her though, the dancing went up a whole other notch.

The poor girl had no idea what she was doing, but I was more than happy to lead her. My hips continued shaking as I grabbed her hand and spun her around, and although she didn't land the spin too perfectly, I made the whole thing look utterly delicious. The both of us danced away until the girl turned red in the face, but I didn't stop for at least another three songs. I was kind of glad when she finished though because her titties were distracting me, and considering I wasn't into the that, they weren't distracting in a good way. More of a 'spin the chick around and get a face full of boob' kind of way.

Many songs later, my time on the podium also came to an end and the majority of people just stared at me as the realisation that grinding wasn't the only form of dance struck them, although I did get a small applause from some groups of people. All fabulous people, of course. A lot of them were still staring as I casually strolled back towards the booth Will was once again sitting in, but most of them were back grinding again by the time I sat down. He'd drunk most of his Coke and by the looks of it, another vodka shot.

"Dude, was that chick up there with you then?" Will asked, nodding at the woman who'd almost blinded me with her tits. I nodded as Will started laughing a little hysterically. "You really need to teach me how to dance."

I couldn't help noticing that his voice was slightly slurred, but I didn't get the chance to think much of it as he grabbed my arm and yanked me down to sit on the sofa with him. What happened next though shit me right up. Will leaned into me, rested his head on my shoulder and began rubbing his hair against my neck in a very suggestive manner. Either he was high on something, I'd been dancing for far longer than I first thought, or he'd become the lightest weight ever and was simply off his face on alcohol (and glitter). Screw it, I sure as hell wasn't complaining.
I didn't know what to put here so I put this.





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StellaThomas says...



Adelaide Ellis | Bri's room

Conversation: Addy :-) to: Lailala XX, Turtle Dove, West! :-)

ADDY :-): Hey guys! Come over to Bri's, we've got hot chocolate and pedicure sets and we'd love to talk missions and training with you all :) x
LAILALA XX: Sounds good! As long as there aren't any games. I make games suck for everyone.
ADDY :-): You could never make anything suck! x
WEST! :-): YAY I LOVE TO PAARTAY!
ADDY :-): Funny, usually you're opposed to these kinds of events! x
TURTLE DOVE: Thanks for the invite, Adelaide. I may pop over.

"Looks like they're on their way. Any news on your end?"

"Will's out," Bri said dismissively. Addy stared. "I really don't understand your crush on Dog Boy."

"I do not have a crush on him. I'm twenty-one not... twelve!"

"Who has crushes at twelve?"

"It was palindromic. And besides... everyone?"

Bri shook her head. "Not me."

"Bri, remember that one time when we agreed that 'everyone' means 'everyone except for really angry geniuses'?"

"Genii," Bri corrected and Addy threw one of those toe-divider-thingymajigs at her.

West was the first to turn up. "Hey amigos! Look what I have!" And he held up a three-quarters-full bottle of tequila.

"West," Addy whined. "It's not meant to be that kind of party."

"It's going to be a GREAT party!" he said, waving his hands. "Because guess who I invited? RACHEL WAAAAAAAAAAYNE!"

"Oh dear lord, why?" Bri demanded.

"She'son our teaam. I thought she'd like to come."

"And is she?"

"Actually, that's not what happened." Wayne walked in after him. "He was banging into the wall beside my door for five minutes because apparently he thought I was hosting a 'part-ay' and then he realised that I, fortunately, am not Brianna Stark. Who failed to invite me to her party, I see."

"It's not really a party," Bri said. "Just a few friends over to talk about Team 1's mission-"

"I'm on Team 1. Perfect." And Wayne plonked herself down on the sofa. Addy and Bri exchanged looks but Addy shrugged and tried to make the best of it.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" Addy asked, holding up her Thermos.

"Yesh please!" West held out his hand and then on second thoughts took the whole flask. Addy left him to it to greet Laila who had just slipped in the door.

"Hi guys," she said. "I... West... Is that a sombrero?"

"I never leave the house without one," West said, putting the Thermos back and grinning with a mug in his hands.

"Right," Laila said and sat down. "Oh, and there was a slight problem- I was walking over here and-"

"Look at all zeze vimmin!" Sorm said delightedly.

"Oh, hi, Sorm!" Addy said. "Um, lovely hat!"

"Eez fabulous," Sorm said, smiling in that vague way he generally did.

"Addy why are all these people in my apartment," Bri said, teeth clenched.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get them all to come! On the bright side at least Atalant-wait, when did you get here?"

Ata smiled and waved from where she could have been sitting on a beanbag for five minutes for all Addy knew. She poured herself another mug and watched the troll nervously, sipping it. It tasted a little off but Addy paid no heed.

Dove was last to come. "Heehee!" Addy said. "Turtledove's wearing a turtleneck!"

"Turtledove?"

Addy covered her mouth. It was a fun!nickname that she kept to herself because... it was Dove. And Dove didn't seem like the type to appreciate fun!nicknames.

"Where's your wingman?" Wayne asked West. "Because I'm not looking after you all night."

"William- other William- is on a-a-a DATE," West said delightedly.

Addy stared at Bri, who seemed like she had known this all along.

"I, um, with who?" Addy asked West, trying to be nonchalant.

"A fabulous young man," said West and Addy paled.

"Do we know him?"

West only tapped his nose and shook his maracas. Addy's world began to blur. She wondered why. Only then did she notice the empty tequila bottle on the floor, and the liquid level in the Thermos being higher than it had been before anyone arrived.

She giggled. And giggled. And didn't really stop. Until she shouted, "Let's play Truth or Dare!"

Five words had never caused her more danger.
"Stella. You were in my dream the other night. And everyone called you Princess." -Lauren2010





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JabberHut says...



Dimitri | Bri’s Workshop

Dimitri chuckled to himself as she left at a run. So the other team was finally back from their mission. That means they’re one step closer to their first mission. And that means working out on the field. As a tank.

He went back to work on Bri’s suit. The mere thought of going Steel out in the field was making him nervous for his teammates’ sakes, and he always found this kind of work to be rather calming. Or distracting. Or both.

He regained control from JARVIS and continued working on his own terms. While he appreciated the benefits of having JARVIS do his work for him, particularly for Bri’s supervision, it took the fun out of it for him. Connie ejected herself as soon as Dimitri didn’t need her for the transfers any longer.

Some time passed as he worked in the code. He hadn’t really noticed it was getting dark until he casually checked the time on the monitor. Dimitri sat up from his chair, checking his phone for confirmation. He had been sitting in Bri’s Workshop all afternoon and well into the evening. He looked around for his companion. “Did Connie leave already, JARVIS?”

“She left two hours ago, sir.”

“I had better leave as well,” Dimitri said. He started picking up his tools, including that sonic screwdriver he still wasn’t sure what to do with. Perhaps he’d give it to the Doctor tonight. He saw no benefit in using…. He eyed the power source in Bri’s suit.

Nah.

He twirled the screwdriver and put it inside pocket of his jacket. “I have to admit: I could stay in here all day. It’s a playground for engineers.”

“Minefield is typically the word of choice.”

Dimitri laughed quietly. “Touche. Well, JARVIS, that program should be cleaned up and ready. I suppose you’re able to check the work and improve upon it, so feel free. Bri can download it tonight or tomorrow, then.”

“The energy capacity could still be further manipulated to store even more—”

“Hold on,” Dimitri said, putting up a hand to stop the bodiless voice. “If I hear anymore on this, I’ll be sitting in here all night, and facing Bri after staying all night in her Workshop isn’t a situation I’m willing to get into.”

“Understandable, sir.”

His eyes fell to the sonic screwdriver in his jacket anyway. It could easily increase the amount of power of the backup system. In fact, that was almost obvious – though Dimitri was disappointed at how easy it was. There was no satisfaction in that. And yet… Bri could benefit from a bit of extra help, as she explained with JARVIS.

He set his things down and, with jacket still on, and phased his hand through his jacket to pull out the screwdriver. “JARVIS, I think this sonic screwdriver the Headmaster lent me could help us in improving the backup.”

“Downloading program now, sir.”

Dimitri smiled at how JARVIS practically read his mind. It only took a few minutes before the program was fully installed. His fingers twirled the sonic screwdriver and held it up in front of him. “…I have no idea how to use this thing.”

“I’m afraid there is little information regarding the use of sonic instruments.”

Dimitri sat down on the stool and stared at it, twirling it around his fingers, and hoping the thing would sonic the instructions into his brain. Or JARVIS. He wasn’t a very daring person, but he recalled the Headmaster having just pointed it at something and pressing the button.

So he tried it.

“Energy levels multiplying,” JARVIS reported.

Dimitri smiled. “Excellent.”

----

After that success, Dimitri felt it appropriate to go out and celebrate with some late dinner. He picked up his toolbox, putting the sonic screwdriver back in his jacket pocket, and nodded to the monitor… ‘cause he wasn’t sure where else to acknowledge JARVIS’ presence. “I’ll talk to you later, JARVIS. Tell Bri I said good night.”

“Of course, sir. Have a good night.”

He left the workshop, closing the door behind him. He figured returning the screwdriver was probably the first thing to do tonight, but that could wait ‘til tomorrow, especially to make sure it wasn’t needed anymore. If the backup system had improved significantly with a click of a sonic button, the suit as a whole could improve incredibly.

What was he saying?

There was a perfectly non-sonic way in improving the suit, and while Bri would love the idea of just spiking it with a sonic screwdriver, Dimitri was given a powerful tool. He shouldn’t be using it so greedily. Though what other reason could the Headmaster possibly give him a sonic screwdriver?

Okay, he had to return it—

“Oh!” Dimitri phased promptly before a possible collision, Heavy walking right through him. Few people in the school made him feel short, and as Dimitri turned to look up at Heavy, this was one of those moments. He eyed the bag over Heavy’s shoulder, a large sausage link in his other hand. “I apologize. Are you heading home?”

Heavy nodded. “Mama Heavy call Heavy, so Heavy go home now.”

“I’m sorry to hear,” Dimitri said. “The school year only just started.”

“’Sokay, Heavy come back one day. I have present for friend.” Heavy put down his bag, shoved his sausage link in his mouth to hold, and dug in the large, bottomless pouch. Dimitri and Heavy never hung out in any way, but they were fellow tanks and shared quite a few classes together, especially at first. Dimitri still felt guilty for a Steel incident in freshman year which ended in Heavy getting beaten to a pulp – something he probably wasn’t used to. Heavy never seemed to hold it against him, though. It was oddly refreshing.

Heavy held up a bundle wrapped in newspaper, glitter all over the package. Dimitri smiled weakly, his brow scrunched with worry at how long glitter will be staining everything he owned now.

“Open!” Heavy said with wide eyes, nodding eagerly.

Dimitri’s mouth twitched in a smile, and he opened the bundle.

A bone. And a stuffed dragon that squeaked when squeezed.

Dimitri shook his head with amusement. Connie hated seeing new dog toys show up in their room. Even Dimitri wasn’t sure where they vanish to in the end. “Thank you, Heavy. I wish I had a gift for you, but I didn’t know.”

“’Sokay, Heavy di’n’ know, too. Heavy will miss school. Bye, friend.” Heavy dropped his bag and tackled Dimitri in a breathless hug. Dimitri patted him – well, as much as his locked limbs would allow.

Heavy left as quickly as he had come.
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Lumi says...



Will McCoy

“Y’know.” Neon lights danced around them in clouds, in blurs, in flashes of booming bass.

“Mmmh.”

“We can--” as the heat started rising as dancers, drunk off their asses, started heavy petting, “--take this somewhere else.”

Will felt in a haze. The drinks he’d had, they weren’t that many, that strong, and he wanted to feel that there was something else clouding his thoughts. That was easier said, of course, than understood. Really, whenever Will gave into drinks or drugs or whatever it was that West had bought off a Brooklyn dealer on any given night, he lost touch with a lot of things that made him...human.

And, as was apparent by his lips wrestling on Dougie’s neck, he was losing quite a bit of control. It was to Will’s disappointment, though, that when he reached out to Dougie’s chest instinctively, there was nothing to hold onto. Just hard, vertical chest. And though people were already watching, gossiping about the two dudes getting hot on the corner couch, they hadn’t actually kissed.

So it surprised Will when he finally pulled away, aligned their postures and leaned in--and Dougie stopped him by grabbing his ear. Shouting over the thumping music, Dougie said, ”I don’t think you’re doing this for the right reasons.” The bass was contagious, and had Will’s head bobbing with each drop. ”Can we maybe just go somewhere and ta--”

Will cut Dougie off as he crawled out of the boy’s lap and staggered a few steps away, banging his tail into the table loaded with shot glasses. His posture curved to the right, head and arms drooping, and he scratched furiously at his arms, lips formed into a confused snarl.

Dougie looked worried. “I-if you don’t want to, we don’t have t--”

“It’s a monster!” A nearby cage girl shrieked, threw open the door to her cage, and ran across the dance floor. The DJ, making one huge cliche of himself, scratched a record as the music stopped, and all eyes in the club followed the blinking lights to Will. Panting, slouching, with dark hair sprouting from his body, drunken, and probably drugged, he clawed at his shirt, ripping the fabric as his balance between human and animal cracked.

There were gasps--and then applause.

Dougie watched around the club as folks cheered the Super Dedicated Cosplayer. Among the nasty shouts about Twilight Being For Boys Like Dougie, the club pretty much instantly got over Will’s show-out, and the music kicked back up. Poor little invisiboy was almost too scared to pull him away from the public eye and out through the back door.

Once they were in the alleyway, Dougie leaned against the steel door and gathered his thoughts. The alley was dark and wet, a light rain still falling. Will was crouched a few feet away, discarding his clothes and shoes on the wet asphalt. Dougie hadn’t seen Will like this before--there was something primal, something detached--and he considered that he could be on a bad trip...of something. He let out a grumble, and Will turned, leaping to in front of where Dougie stood, and leaned in. He sniffed up and down the boy’s body before licking his face.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Dougie said, “but I would really appreciate you being a man again so I can properly lust after you in my own closeted way that isn’t so closeted, but is still kept to myself out of hollow respect of your personal boundaries, even though, honestly, your personal boundaries are pretty much all gray territory. I mean, you do whore around a lot, and I have theories as to why: like it could just be a cry for attention, or help, or maybe you’re just really horny all the time, or maybe it’s in your nature, that you tell people you care about them through intense physicality. And I gotta admit, that’s pretty damn sweet since it works out for you so well, but I’m a little surprised you’ve never caught an STD or someshit like that. I know from gossip you’ve slept with at least six girls at school, so I can only imagine how many more have come before and after that without people knowing. And then there’s the whole me thing going on. I mean, what are you thinking, taking me out on a date and raising a little bit of hope in a really desperate situation?”

And he paused. “Oh.”

Will crouched to his haunches again, panting. It was clear his energy was pouring out of him. Whatever form he was in, it was eating him alive faster than anything else he’d maintained before, at least from what Dougie could see. After a few more minutes of silence and rain, his body reverted to his average human build, sweat pouring down his pores.

When his change was over, Will dropped to the asphalt and curled over himself, holding his face in his hands and shivering.

“W-Will? Are you ok--”

“No,” he answered, voice hushed, “something was in my drink.”

“Yeah,” Dougie replied, kneeling beside him (and trying to keep his eyes away from strategic locations), “I picked up on that. I think you have some serious matters to consider next time you decide to have a fabulous night out with such a beautiful young angel such as me.” He beamed, putting a hand on his back. “I mean, really, Will! Your hormones totally got the best of you in there, and before I knew it, you were practically begging me for all sorts of dirty Canadian Sex Acts.”

Will looked up from his body huddle and cracked a smile. “Bri said you were having a fucked-up week. I wanted to cheer you up however I c--”

Dougie kissed him on the cheek. “I’ve never done that before, y’know.” He nodded and shrugged. “So despite you practically crawling on me all night, I still have maintained my shameless innocence for the perfect man for me.” Will swore his eyes sparkled.

Will waited a moment before the cold became too much for him to handle, and stood up, giving Dougie an eyeful. He grabbed his clothes from the ground and pulled what was left of them on while Dougie dug out the transport device. “I hope you don’t mind if we just head back now.” He checked an invisible watch and sucked on his teeth. “Project Runway is coming on, and I’ll be damned to sewing footballs in a He-Man Woman-Haters Club if I miss it.”

Will wiped sweat off of his face before hooking his arm through Dougie’s, leaning against his side. “Let’s go, buttercup.”

-- -- --

After Will had dropped Dougie off at his room and given him one final smack on the ass, he checked his phone out of habit.

Antichrist Devilhips: ...Addy says come over later for some hot chocolate.

He groaned, leaning against a Wall with his eyes closed. All he’d wanted the entire night was a nap, and that was still too much to ask of the universe. Just as he found his center of relaxation, something hard and smelly hit his chest, and he opened his eyes.

Enter Dimitri with a bone the size of Will’s arm.

Sleepily, Will looked to his at-times-metallic friend and licked his lips subconsciously. “This bone...”

“...is for you.”

Will watched the bone, almost expecting it to run off before he could grab it. And of course he didn’t grab it with his hands. He took it by his teeth, gnawed on it, and then held it in his hand. “Where’d you get this beautiful motherfucker?”

“Heavy gave it to me before leaving, apparently. And since Connie isn’t much for bones--”

“Heh, your mom isn’t much one for bones!”

Dimitri just paused, calculating the joke before cracking a quarter-smirk. “Funny. Uhm. May I ask why you’re shirtless?”

“Long story, bro. It involves romance, heavy music, and trippin’ balls on some kind of lose-your-friggin-mind drug.” Will licked his bone. “The better question is why you’re not shirtless. It’s all the rage these days.”

It was then that Will noticed that Dimitri smelled overwhelmingly of one Briana Stark, which immediately piqued his curiosity. Slowly, mischievously, he grinned. “So. You and Briana, eh?”

The dude’s eyes blew wide. “Wh-what?”

“Oh, c’mon bro, you can’t hide this kind of shit from my nose. You smell just like Little Miss Robotfromhell.” He tilted his head to the side, almost winking. “Tell me, how long did you spend in her room?”

Dimitri fumbled over his words, squeezing a squeaky toy in his hands.

And Will’s attention darted to it.

Dimitri examined the situation, sheepishly making the toy squeak again, and gauging Will’s reaction. He was just like a d--...right. Checking up and down the hall, Dimitri squeezed it once more before tossing it straight down the hall, sending his canine friend chasing after it on all fours.

Will barrelled down the hall after his prize, diving for the little yellow toy just as none other than Briana Stark left a nearby room--straight into his collision path. His eyes went wide, and he yelped as crashed into her, throwing the two of them into a tumble down the hall. When they stopped, they were a knot of legs and arms--the perfect sight for everyone pouring out of the room.

Addy giggled. “Looks like you don’t have to complete your dare of ‘See if Will will respond to a late-night booty call!’”

They all snickered.

Bri grumbled and swore at Will.

Will didn’t give a shit because he had his goddamn chew toy.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


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Lauren2010 says...



Issue Two: Dum Dum Dum Doo-Duh-Dum Doo-Duh-Dum Dum Dum Dum Duh-Dum-Dum Dum Dum Dum

Chapter One : Will the Kitten Hater (alternatively: Fight Club)


Bri Stark | Leadership Class

Bri swung around in her spinning chair, planting her feet on the ground and resting her elbows on her knees. She eyed Will who lounged in his own chair, his feet on the table. “You mean to tell me,” she said, standing and sauntering across the classroom. She leaned forward, bracing a hand on Will’s outstretched femur. “You mean to tell me,” she repeated, “that you don’t like kittens?

Will groaned, shooting a pleading glance to The Doctor where he sat on top of the desk at the front of the classroom. “Is this really necessary?”

The Doctor shrugged, twirling a sonic screwdriver in one hand. “Kittens are not only an integral part of leadership, but a defining point of humanity.”

“Come on, Will,” Bri said, tightening her grip on his leg. She leaned in closer, narrowing her eyes as she examined his face. “Even I love kittens.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “The almighty Briana Stark can love? How…interesting.” He drummed his fingers together, waggling his eyebrows as if he were out of some seventies mafia porn crossover. “Tell me,” he said, dropping his voice several octaves. “How do you feel about puppydog eyes?” He batted his eyelashes and Bri groaned, giving his chair a kick and cackling as he flew across the room and slammed against the wall.

The Doctor applauded. “Impressive! The way you led that conversation straight into Bri’s violent temper, Will,” he said. “And Bri, how you led Will straight into a possible concussion.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smiling triumphantly. “Academy leadership at its finest.”

“This class is a joke, isn’t it?” Bri half-muttered as she settled back into her own chair.

Will rolled back to his table, planting his feet on the tabletop again. A fine cloud of dirt was expelled from the bottoms of his sneakers and completed the fine layer of filth that was beginning to cover the table. “You’re a joke, Stark,” he retorted, eyeing her as she steamed in her seat. “I can hear you, even when you mutter.”

“Take a bath, Kitten Hater.”

“So delightful,” The Doctor said, leaning forward, his gaze flicking from one team leader to the other. “You two should date.”

Bri and Will shared a look of horror and slight embarrassment, though the comment effectively shut them up. The Doctor smiled and slid off his desk, pacing the room in front of them. “A good leader ought to respect the leadership of another leader. Only then can that leader feel secure in their own leadership, and that they, as a leader, understand precisely how a leader should operate in a position of leadership.” He glanced at Bri and Will. “Do you follow?”

“I’m afraid not,” Will said, his head cocked to the side like the damn puppy he was.

The Doctor nodded. “Yes, well, I’m sure we shall all understand in time,” he said. “I’ll begin work on an assignment that may more properly illustrate my point, but for now you’re dismissed. Will, I believe you’re late for a ballroom dancing seminar?”

Before Bri had a chance to smirk and mock him, Will jumped up from his chair. “Indeed I am,” he said, and pirouetted out of the room.

Bri stood to follow, only for The Doctor to hold her back. “Miss Stark,” he said. “I believe you’re aware that Will’s team just completed their first mission, and I’m sure you’re wondering when you will have your own chance to demonstrate your leadership abilities.”

Bri shrugged. “Honestly, my team is driving me--"

"Very well! I shan't keep you waiting any longer!" The Doctor interjected. He strode to the blackboard and began an intricate stick-drawing of a large circular object with lots of smaller Xs surrounding it. "This," he said, slapping a hand against the board and turning to Bri, "is your mission."

Bri crossed her arms over her chest. "Honestly, Doctor, what the fu--"

"Glad you asked!" he said, turning back to the board. "This is The Death Star. Now this is a rather peculiar mission, and not one I'm prepared to pass by a particular ironsuited super father." He glanced back at Bri, who simply shrugged. "It will involve great stealth, and a high functioning team that I know you can manage. You'll report for briefing in a few days!" He strode out of the room, leaving Bri to wallow in her loathing of her own team.

Finally she dragged herself out of the classroom and headed toward her dorm room. Her team needed Bri Stark's personal superhero bootcamp, and she wasn't going anywhere near that without her megaphone.
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StellaThomas says...



Adelaide Ellis- The Gym

With a deep breath, Addy ran and executed a perfect triple backflip, a cartwheel, went into a roundoff and stumbled on the last step, and fell. She heard a gasp of surprise from a watching freshman, but picked herself up, took a bow, and went up to the gallery to the trapezes and ropes.

Monday mornings for Addy were always for gymnastics and skills training. She did cardio work every morning before breakfast, climbed, abseiled and did zero gravity on Tuesdays, wore pink on Wednesdays, Thursdays she did water training, Fridays she measured and improved on her general running times and jumping distances, Saturdays she spent extra time in the shooting range (although she tried to make it three times during the week) and on Sundays, she sat in her room, watched TV and decided what skill she was going to pick up next. Being on mission would wreak havoc with her schedule. Just like being hungover was messing up her training right now. It was Monday. Monday. Truth or Dare had been on Friday. Friday. Gotta get down on-

She jumped onto the first trapeze and pushed it out of her head as she swung her way to the next one and just about caught it. Her head was still pounding. She did a few somersaults and switches but by the end, she just shimmied down the long rope and planted her feet on the ground. Maybe she could have a nap between now and her first class. Which was Luminology. Addy liked it! She got to learn how to make lamps and let's be honest, who didn't love lamps? She was going to give everyone a lamp for Christmas and they would all be so delighted- she had already decided that she would give Wayne a sheep shaped one painted sky blue with an orange floral print shade. It would really brighten up Wayne's room which was... well, dark.

"Did you hear what Addy Ellis said to Will McCoy?" It didn't take super-hearing to hear freshman gossip. Addy tuned in.

"No, but did you hear that Brianna Stark-"

"Hey guys!" Addy bounded over and put her arms around the two girls. "How are we today? I'm just peachy!" Which wasn't true. But Addy's non-just peachy was just about perky enough to pass for a normal person's just peachy, so it didn't matter.

"Uh, fine," said one of the girls, stunned.

"Got any interesting gossip? I love some gossip!"

"N-n-no," said the other. "None! We were just talking about shoes!"

"Great! I love shoes! Continue talking about shoes! And don't let Bri hear you telling tall tales about her because she's not nearly as nice as me." Addy gave them her biggest grin just as the doors to the gym opened and Bri marched her team in, calling on the megaphone, "LEFT, LEFT, LEFT RIGHT LEFT- HALT! DROP AND GIVE ME TWENTY YOU WORTHLESS BAGS OF S-"

"Bri, honey!" Addy ran over to Bri who was full absorbed in shouting, "I DON'T CARE WHAT TIME IT IS OR WHAT AGRICULTURAL SCIENCE CLASS YOU HAVE TO GET TO DOUGLAS, GET ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME-"

"Bri," Addy said, now closer.

"OH HI ADDY-" Bri put her megaphone down. "Hi! What's up?"

Addy shrugged. "The usual, floor, air, vault. I'm going to hit the showers and get to Luminology."

"The Doctor's confirmed we have a mission coming up. I need to get these USELESS PILES OF CRAP into shape for it!"

"Bri, don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"Of course I am! That's what I do!"

"But you should be nurturing and caring and loving and you should talk to your team about their problems and be understanding when they can't train due to menstrual cramps-"

"What?"

Addy shrugged. "Just an example-"

"I have menstrual cramps!" Dougie shouted. "Am I free to leave?"

"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, SOLDIER."

"Seriously, Bri. Relax."

"Yeah, because winging it did so well for you guys."

"Hey, I got a B! I'm not complaining!"

"So does McCoy listen to all your womanly problems?" Bri gave Addy a look.

Addy pursed her lips and tried to look dignified. "Considering I said enough to him on Friday night to constitute a lifetime's worth of conversation, I wouldn't know. I never plan on speaking to him again."

"Good team dynamic," Bri said and nodded sarcastically.

"I'm just saying." Addy laid a hand on Bri's arm. "Sometimes a gentler approach is more effective."

Bri did not look convinced but said, "Okay."

Addy went to the changing rooms and switched from her pink unitard to a white towel and from the white towel to a lilac tank top and jeans and put on her best smile, which was marginally wider than her normal smile.

"Lamps!" she said appreciatively to herself and went off to Luminology.
"Stella. You were in my dream the other night. And everyone called you Princess." -Lauren2010





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Lumi says...



Will McCoy

Today was the worst day for ballroom dancing. Will had never tried before: he’d watched it on TV back home, played around and pretended to dance at proms and dances in high school, but if he was completely honest with himself, which he always was, he had to admit that it was like reading French: he was completely lost.

Will turned a corner and shuffled down another hallway, stopping by a window as his stomach gave a quick lurch, jerking at nerves all through him. He shut his eyes and curled against the window, pressing his cheek against the cool glass. There were raindrops pelting the side, vibrating against him. Will lined up his thoughts, blacking out the pain in his gut, and let out a long, stale breath. He wondered who he’d be partnered with in the dance class. There was that new girl from the Rockman world, Roll. She was pretty cute...and would probably make a great dance partner. Light on her feet, probably even lighter on her lips.

Will caught himself licking his lips and dispelled the thought. It was only one dance class, and the chances of any girl in the dance hall finding Will a viable sexual candidate after watching him awkwardly twist around for an hour would have to be crazy. Granted, there were plenty of insane girls at the Academy who were justifiable on the hot-to-crazy meter. A perfect center would definitely be in the dance class.

He dug into his pocket, popping out a blue mint, and bit down on it, catching his lip with a sharp tooth. Letting out a yelp, he spat the bloody mint out onto the floor and gripped his mouth, staining his fingers red. “Dabbit,” he muttered, and stole away into a bathroom. His lip was sliced cleanly--just like knife work. He craned open his jaw and peered at his teeth: the four canines that had elongated into feral fangs. Not good. His stomach lurched again, doubling him over the sink. He dropped his messenger bag to the floor and slammed his head against the mirror, groaning.

It was like he was pregnant or something.

When his insides stopped wrenching, he grabbed his bag and hurried out of the bathroom, lip clotted with dark platelets.

Down the hall, he could hear the music of the first song ending. Peering through the window sheepishly, he caught sight of everyone finishing a warm-up. Will slipped through the double doors and slipped his sneakers off, dropping his messenger bag on a bench in the back. A quick slap across his back sent him toppling against the wall. He turned.

“I really, honestly thought you were going to pussy out on me with this, bro.” West had his Angry Face on, arms crossed over a bare, strangely oily chest, and leg propped up on the bench. Will moved his shoulders awkwardly, looking off at the other dancing people.

“Is there, like, a reason you’re wearing stripper shorts?”

West’s face lit up bright red. “Th--they’re compression...bike...dance shorts!” He tugged at the flame-printed red material. “I figured there might be some strenuous exercise in this.”

“Is there?”

“Not enough for flamio shorts,” he sighed.

“Who’s your dance partner, anyway? I’m sure she’s getting a real kick out of ‘em.”

West shrugged. “People’ve been taking this class all semester, man. Everyone’s paired up already.”

Will grinned. “So that means we get out of our dare without suffering!”

“Not,” West pulled out a slip of paper from the crotch of his shorts, “quite.” Unfolding it, he read Bri’s specific terms and conditions:

If by any chance no dance partners are available, I demand that Dogboy and One-Second West be partnered together in a fabulous gay dance orgy.

Will narrowed his eyes. “Those are oddly specific terms and conditions.”

“There’s also a clause about snow cancellation and the benefits of KY Jelly.”

Will shuddered. “The less I know about Briana Stark, the better.”

West smirked. “Yeah yeah, and the more you know about Double-D Addy, amirite?”

“Hello, boys.”

Will and West slow-turned to see the dance instructor: tan, curvy, and a little bit too deadly for West’s taste. The Academy had hired Irene Demova for her particular skills in the arts of agility and seduction...and she never...stopped...teaching.

Will closed West’s jaw and cleared his throat. “Miss Demova.” He threw a half-grin her way. “Nice to see you again.”

Irene puckered her lips, sucking on her teeth as she thought something over. “I am afraid,” she said in a deep, rich, sensual, enticing, warm, deep Italian accent, “that our girls have allll been partnered away.” She ran a finger against her lips. “So, if you two are not in the mood for some male bonding, I am afraid,” she turned back to her dancers, “that you may not have a place in today’s Tango Lesson.”

Will swallowed a lump in his throat as she sauntered away.

Together, the boys oozed out her name. “Irene Demova...hhhh.”

Will snapped to attention and looked at West. “We must impress her.”

West nodded. “We must prove to her.”

“That we are the best dancers.”

“Who’ve ever lived.”

Will’s eyes narrowed. “And then she will have to choose between the two of us.”

West nodded once more. “An honorable tradition dating back to the beginning of genitalia.”

Will held up a fist. “So let’s do this.”

West pounded his fist against Will’s, the music began.

The boys grabbed one another, both fighting quietly over the position of the man. After a quick eye battle, West headbutted Will, knocking him off of his stance so he could grab dominance. After adjusting, Will nodded. The two twisted into the center of the small crowd.

“Everyone is staring at your ass,” Will murmured. West twisted him to the left.

“Better than them staring at your freakish teeth,” West replied. Will stroked a leg up West’s back, nearly touching his shoulder with his heel.

“I didn’t realize they were still visible,” Will whispered. West dipped him, swiping his drooping hair across the hardwood floor.

On the uptake, West narrowed his eyes. “They’re like you’re in wolf-thing form already.” Will turned, West’s hands on his hips. Will grabbed West’s ass and dropped it low to the floor, twisting and coming back up to their original stance.

“Dougie taught me that,” Will interjected, “he called it a sex drop.”

West grimaced. “How can you take anything Dougie teaches you seriously?”

Will tucked his chin against West’s shoulder as they shuffled closer to Irene Demova. “It feels natural,” he said, “and it reminds me that I’m not like everyone else in that I don’t give a fuck about sexual protocol.”

The two switched directions back and forth before spinning. “That hardly seems appropriate to talk about when you’re sex-dropping on your best bro.”

Will stared at West’s face for a moment before noticing that the other dancers were watching them alone. “Being part dog, I must tell you that nothing makes me happier than hearing you call me your best bro.”

West glanced at Irene, and then back to Will, cocking his eyebrow. “Are you wearing some kind of fur?”

Will mirrored his expression before wrenching away from his buddy, his stomach gripping him on the insides once again. He crumbled to the floor, gripping his abs, and the music stopped.

Irene rushed over, shooing away the other students. West dropped to his knees, grabbing Will by the shoulders. “AH!” He shook, pulling his knees to his chest. From the back of his jeans, a plume of fur began to rise, curling around his abdomen.

“W-Will, your tail.”

“B-bathroom. Bathroom NOW!”

West hoisted Will over his shoulder, knocking Irene Demova to the floor, and dashed out of the dance hall.
I am a forest fire and an ocean, and I will burn you just as much
as I will drown everything you have inside.
-Shinji Moon


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Rosendorn says...



Dove | The Gym

Bri had decided that it would be a good idea to put Dove through her physical paces along with everybody else, which meant quite a lot of shouting directly in her ear as Dove held everybody up. After awhile, even Dougie was doing better than she was.

After the tenth time Bri had put the megaphone beside Dove's ear, Dove lifted her hand and crunched it into a ball, eyes glowing white.

"I'm a mage Bri," she growled. "I don't need to keep up physically."

Bri's eyes had widened, fixed on the hovering, grey-coated clump of electronics and metal. "You should still be able to."

Dove could feel the rage creeping up in her mind, but didn't care. "I don't think I should need to."

"If you have so much energy," Bri said, crossing her arms, "Drop and give me an extra twenty."

Dove brought up a second hand, coating the vault Addy had been using just a short while ago in charcoal. "How about no."

AT bounced up to the top of the vault. "Uh, Dove, looks like there are humans waiting to use this particular piece of equipment! How's about you use something eee—"

Dove had her in the air. "Stay outta my way."

She laughed. "Hey hey hey! Easy there! Don't want to wreck the gym again, do ya?"

Her pure elation at the thought of chaos cut through the rage. Dove froze as the realization of what she was doing sunk in full force, causing her magic to snap back and AT to drop next to a sophomore who'd strayed from the crowd for a closer look.

Dove shook her head and pulled up her hood, beginning to levitate back towards the doors.

"Get back in here, Dove!" Bri called after her.

No, no no no no no. I can't. Not after—

A howl cut through her's— and everybody else's— thoughts, bringing hands up to ears and everything from pained groans to paralyzing shock to the whole gym. The whole school. Dove fell to her knees and fought the surge of power, rage wanting to boil through the surface again just so that sound would shut up.

Long fingers ending in claw-like nails gripped her arm. "Shh, shh." One arm was forced away from her ears. "It's over now."

There was no more howl, but there was chatter as everybody tried to get their bearings. It felt just as bad, when mixed in with fear. Dove looked at AT, just to gather her thoughts, noticing earplugs in the troll's ears. How she'd been able to help in the first place.

"What the fuck was that?" a freshman asked aloud. It seemed like the whole gym shook their head in a collective 'I don't know'.

The question was apparently about to be answered by the time Dove had gotten to her feet. A staff member burst through the door, scanned the room, and trotted to Dove.

"Infirmary."

Dove frowned, still not quite able to get what was going on. "Why?"

"It's Will," the staff member continued. "He's... in pain. His powers seem to be out of his control, and he's trapped half shifted."

Dove felt her mind become completely quiet, heart slowly shredding as old memories and hyperawareness of her limits settled in. "I can't help him." She took a deep breath. "Let me know if he develops any open wounds, or goes feral."

The staff member nodded and walked back out of the gym. The conversation had attracted everybody's attention, and they began swarming.

AT, having never let go of Dove's arm, turned back and grinned at the younger students. Dove couldn't help but smirk at the response: everybody paused, looked between themselves, and went back to whatever they'd been doing.

Dimitri, followed by the rest of the team, were given the privilege of coming close.

"What is it?" he asked.

Dove shook her head. "Just... something I can't help with." Mom would've been able to, though. She could just take pain.

Bri didn't let the pause after hang long. "Back to work! You can't just stop everything at some weird noise on a mission. ...Where did Dougie go?"

"Invisible is a high probability!" AT said, jumping over to get back to work. "Should we go drag him back or continue without him?"

Bri sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Dove took the opportunity to float back even farther from the group, towards the doors.

She sensed Dimitri's concerned look in her direction, pausing and looking up at him. If they trained as a team, he'd likely be Steel. She could sense him shift, and come back in time to stop him, but it'd be an extra risk. Extra time he could damage.

"Drag him back here," Bri finally spat out. "We need to train as a team."

Dove sighed and focused on her magic again. "He's in the broom closet down the hall from the gym."
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