Joe's pet theory was confirmed when Protz walked into Westbrook's technology lab. Against all reason, the devices held there hummed to life for the first time since Protz had left them with the varied gangs and scum to whom they'd been sold. What was odd was that Protz didn't seem to have known; he was genuinely shocked at the notion, though it had been easy to see the wheels turning behind his eyes, processing and adapting to the new information. It wouldn't be the first time opening his big mouth had proven to be a mistake for Mr. Max.
Now Protz stood beside Mr. Maximillian on the observation deck of the bunker, looking down on Nilesh Dutta sitting uneasily in a large padded chair borrowed from the commons. He had volunteered to go first, insisted even. However, the boy's bravado was gone here, where none of the other students could see him.
"If this doesn't work exactly the way you say it will," Mr. Max murmured for Protz's ears only, "you will spend the rest of your life wishing that the Council had gotten to you first."
Protz waved away Maximillian's threat. His confidence seemed to only be growing since his capture. The man still resembled a chipmunk more than anything else, but unlike the cowering rodent they'd found in the lab, this vermin gave every impression that he believed his was in control of the situation. "Of course it will work. It's flawed design to build an elevator that only goes up."
Joe nodded for him to proceed and Protz activated his device. It was less showy than slamming it dramatically on the ground in a room full of people. A few buttons, a flipped switch, and a firm press of his thumb, and the dizzying light flashed. The light originated with the device just like before, but as it faded out, it seemed to go into the Dutta boy, like water drawing into a sponge.
They would be up all night if need be, recreating and reversing the anomalous collision of magic, technology, and Protz's own newly discovered special ability, and the next days would be almost endless work. However, looking down at Nilesh, who was blinking away the afterimage and rising unsteadily to his feet, Joe imagined he could almost feel the tangled strands of 'wrongness' straightening out.
Now who to send into the room to test Nilesh's abilities?
Nothing's Improbable: Restore
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Faige Harrison
- Member
- Posts:212
- Joined:Fri May 13, 2011 5:47 am
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
Tuesday Afternoon;
Faige was sitting boredly in Chem, feet propped up on the lab bench as the teacher droned on about some formula they were supposed to be writing down when the speaker crackled. "Faige Harrison, please report the the bunker."
She swung her legs down and jumped up off the stool, giving a grin and a little salute to her lab partner. "If I'm not back in an hour, send a search party." This had been going on all day, kids being called down in pairs to have their powers restored. Faige was getting antsy, but finally... finally it was her turn. She walked quickly, almost running down the hall toward the bunker.
Donovan struggled with the geometry problem on his page. His brain refused to cooperate as he impatiently waited for his name to be called. Ever since last night, after they'd returned to campus, he'd been feeling anxious. With every name called, the anxiety rose until his left leg was vibrating with nervous energy. Finally, he heard what he'd been waiting for the whole morning, "Donovan Taffer, please report to the bunker."
Almost running out of the class, Don made his way down to the bunker. As he reached the entrance, he saw Faige just arriving. "Hey!" Don called out as hurried to catch up to her. "Looks like this is it, huh?"
Faige paused, turning a bit on hearing the "Hey!" and she smiled, nodding her head. "You nervous?" She rubbed the back of her leg with the opposite foot, laces of her loosely tied sneakers coming undone a bit. She stepped up in line behind Jitters and Eddie, who were chatting quietly as they waited their turn.
Turning and leaning against the wall, she gave a little wave to the pair. "Excited guys?"
Jitters shook his head. "Kind of but... not really? I'm not looking forward to being mister clumsy again." he chuckled. The bunker door opened and the pair of boys walked in, it closing and sealing after them. Faige watched curiously but you couldn't see anything from out here.
Watching the pair enter the bunker, Donovan shrugged, "Not really nervous, no. Just impatient." He rubbed the back of his neck as he paced a bit. "Do you think it'll be dangerous? I wonder why they aren't doing all of us at once. Maybe they want to leave little to chance? Or maybe it's just the way the machine is supposed to work..." He rambled on as he paced a bit.
Finally getting a hold of his mouth, Don chuckled at himself, "Alright, I'm a little nervous. You?"
Faige grinned at him, nodding her head. "I don't think it's dangerous, but yeah there's gotta be a reason why they're doing is one pair at a time. Maybe they just want to make sure people's powers actually go back to the right people or something."
As they spoke, the doors opened again and a gigantic Eddie followed by a normal sized Jitters came out. It looked like they''d had to swap uniforms, the one that Jitters was wearing hung slightly off of his shoulders as even normal sized Eddie was broad in the shoulders. Faige beamed seeing the success an waved "Hey guys!"
"We gotta get back to class." Jeff said, kneeling and picking up his backpack which promptly spilled all over the floor. The other kids waiting helped him refill and close it. He chuckled "Ahh, good to be normal" before wandering off.
From inside the bunker "Harrison and Taffer" was called from above. Faige straightened her back as she pushed off the wall, walking in.
Donovan was close behind her as they entered. The doors slid shut behind him, making him jump a little even though he knew it was going to happen. The whole situation had him getting more antsy by the minute. At this point, he really just wanted to get it over with.
Maximillian and Protz were waiting for them on the observation platform, the device Donovan's team had retrieved last night in the bunker with them. Fiddling with his gloves, Donovan stood in quiet determination as he awaited what the magic teacher needed him and Faige to do.
"All we need from you is to sit in the chairs there." Maximillian explained. "Don't touch the walls or each other."
As he said that, Faige sank into one of the chairs. "Is this gonna hurt?" She said, looking up toward the protective screen.
"No, it's perfectly safe." Maximillian said as he pressed a few buttons and flipped a switch.
Faige looked at Donovan, holding her breath.
Light filled the room as the device went off. It was very similar to the effect at the assembly. Donovan shielded his eyes from the glare and pressing back in his chair, steeling himself for what came next. The concussive burst the blew outwards buffeted their bodies, but not nearly as powerful as the first time. It was like standing in a strong wind.
At first, Donovan didn't feel anything. Then he felt cold. As if someone had just turned off the heat inside him. Then that was it. Somehow though, he knew that he was back to the way he once was.
Faige shook her head clear in the moment of "silence" before power restoration. And then she felt it, that familiar warmth spreading through the core of her body. She blinked, then put her hand on her chest and looked at Donovan.
Faige half expected Donovan to be in tears like she was when she discovered her power was gone, but it was hard to hide her rather obvious elation at having it back. "You okay dude?"
Don nodded with a smile, "I'm great. You?" Don stood from his chair, then moved to offer her a hand up but stopped and took off his gloves, revealing the light scarring on his palms. "Looks like you'll be needing these again." Don said, passing the gloves to her.
Faige jumped up and gave Don a hug. She was laughing. Her gloves neglected she just hugged him for a moment before she heard Mr. Max clear his throat above them. "We have a lot of students to get through, go on kids back to class."
Grinning, she released the poor guy and ran out of the bunker as the doors opened. As soon as she could, she took off, shooting into the air. "Oh my god I can fly!" She yelled, flying out over courtyard that was between the bunker and the main school building.
Watching his friend take to the air, he offered Maximillian a thankful wave before exiting the bunker. As Faige soared high above him, a twinge of jealousy shot through Donovan. Of all Faige's powers, Don was definitely going to miss the flying more of all. Still though, he was glad to be back to normal and seeing Faige happy made it more worth while.
As Don made his way to class, he felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket. Without thinking, he pulled from his pocket and touched the screen. Immediately, the world turned black then streams of data filled his minds eye. Contact lists, texts, missed calls, calendar dates and high scores flashed at him, his mind instinctively reconstructing the binary code into pictures.
Mentally, Donovan let out a sigh. Positive that he'd just faceplanted in the hallway, he realized that he was going to need to re-adjust himself all over again.
Faige finally dropped to the ground, heading back to class. She rounded the corner and saw Don's comatose body laying face down on the ground. Grinning, she ran over to him and knelt down, picking his cell phone up and placing it back in his hands. "Dooooonnn" she called out "get back in your body before somebody writes on your face."
Another familiar snap and Don's eyes fluttered open. His face was sore from where his cheek had connected with the tiled floor. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Don slide the phone away from him with his foot. "Well, that was embarrassing." He muttered as he fixed his glasses.
Looking up at Faige, he grinned a bit, "Remind me again why I wanted my powers back?"
"Because you enjoy faceplanting in the hallway in front of everyone." She picked the phone up, dropping it into the pocket of his jacket. "I gotta get back to Chem before they give me detention! See ya!"
And with that she ran off down the hallway and disappeared into one of the rooms.
Climbing to his feet, Don shook his head with a small smile, "If Jitters can be happy to have his powers back, I guess I can't complain." He mumbled to himself as he made his way to class. As he sat back down, Don stared at his calculator then at his math problem, "Still...it has it's benefits."
Faige was sitting boredly in Chem, feet propped up on the lab bench as the teacher droned on about some formula they were supposed to be writing down when the speaker crackled. "Faige Harrison, please report the the bunker."
She swung her legs down and jumped up off the stool, giving a grin and a little salute to her lab partner. "If I'm not back in an hour, send a search party." This had been going on all day, kids being called down in pairs to have their powers restored. Faige was getting antsy, but finally... finally it was her turn. She walked quickly, almost running down the hall toward the bunker.
Donovan struggled with the geometry problem on his page. His brain refused to cooperate as he impatiently waited for his name to be called. Ever since last night, after they'd returned to campus, he'd been feeling anxious. With every name called, the anxiety rose until his left leg was vibrating with nervous energy. Finally, he heard what he'd been waiting for the whole morning, "Donovan Taffer, please report to the bunker."
Almost running out of the class, Don made his way down to the bunker. As he reached the entrance, he saw Faige just arriving. "Hey!" Don called out as hurried to catch up to her. "Looks like this is it, huh?"
Faige paused, turning a bit on hearing the "Hey!" and she smiled, nodding her head. "You nervous?" She rubbed the back of her leg with the opposite foot, laces of her loosely tied sneakers coming undone a bit. She stepped up in line behind Jitters and Eddie, who were chatting quietly as they waited their turn.
Turning and leaning against the wall, she gave a little wave to the pair. "Excited guys?"
Jitters shook his head. "Kind of but... not really? I'm not looking forward to being mister clumsy again." he chuckled. The bunker door opened and the pair of boys walked in, it closing and sealing after them. Faige watched curiously but you couldn't see anything from out here.
Watching the pair enter the bunker, Donovan shrugged, "Not really nervous, no. Just impatient." He rubbed the back of his neck as he paced a bit. "Do you think it'll be dangerous? I wonder why they aren't doing all of us at once. Maybe they want to leave little to chance? Or maybe it's just the way the machine is supposed to work..." He rambled on as he paced a bit.
Finally getting a hold of his mouth, Don chuckled at himself, "Alright, I'm a little nervous. You?"
Faige grinned at him, nodding her head. "I don't think it's dangerous, but yeah there's gotta be a reason why they're doing is one pair at a time. Maybe they just want to make sure people's powers actually go back to the right people or something."
As they spoke, the doors opened again and a gigantic Eddie followed by a normal sized Jitters came out. It looked like they''d had to swap uniforms, the one that Jitters was wearing hung slightly off of his shoulders as even normal sized Eddie was broad in the shoulders. Faige beamed seeing the success an waved "Hey guys!"
"We gotta get back to class." Jeff said, kneeling and picking up his backpack which promptly spilled all over the floor. The other kids waiting helped him refill and close it. He chuckled "Ahh, good to be normal" before wandering off.
From inside the bunker "Harrison and Taffer" was called from above. Faige straightened her back as she pushed off the wall, walking in.
Donovan was close behind her as they entered. The doors slid shut behind him, making him jump a little even though he knew it was going to happen. The whole situation had him getting more antsy by the minute. At this point, he really just wanted to get it over with.
Maximillian and Protz were waiting for them on the observation platform, the device Donovan's team had retrieved last night in the bunker with them. Fiddling with his gloves, Donovan stood in quiet determination as he awaited what the magic teacher needed him and Faige to do.
"All we need from you is to sit in the chairs there." Maximillian explained. "Don't touch the walls or each other."
As he said that, Faige sank into one of the chairs. "Is this gonna hurt?" She said, looking up toward the protective screen.
"No, it's perfectly safe." Maximillian said as he pressed a few buttons and flipped a switch.
Faige looked at Donovan, holding her breath.
Light filled the room as the device went off. It was very similar to the effect at the assembly. Donovan shielded his eyes from the glare and pressing back in his chair, steeling himself for what came next. The concussive burst the blew outwards buffeted their bodies, but not nearly as powerful as the first time. It was like standing in a strong wind.
At first, Donovan didn't feel anything. Then he felt cold. As if someone had just turned off the heat inside him. Then that was it. Somehow though, he knew that he was back to the way he once was.
Faige shook her head clear in the moment of "silence" before power restoration. And then she felt it, that familiar warmth spreading through the core of her body. She blinked, then put her hand on her chest and looked at Donovan.
Faige half expected Donovan to be in tears like she was when she discovered her power was gone, but it was hard to hide her rather obvious elation at having it back. "You okay dude?"
Don nodded with a smile, "I'm great. You?" Don stood from his chair, then moved to offer her a hand up but stopped and took off his gloves, revealing the light scarring on his palms. "Looks like you'll be needing these again." Don said, passing the gloves to her.
Faige jumped up and gave Don a hug. She was laughing. Her gloves neglected she just hugged him for a moment before she heard Mr. Max clear his throat above them. "We have a lot of students to get through, go on kids back to class."
Grinning, she released the poor guy and ran out of the bunker as the doors opened. As soon as she could, she took off, shooting into the air. "Oh my god I can fly!" She yelled, flying out over courtyard that was between the bunker and the main school building.
Watching his friend take to the air, he offered Maximillian a thankful wave before exiting the bunker. As Faige soared high above him, a twinge of jealousy shot through Donovan. Of all Faige's powers, Don was definitely going to miss the flying more of all. Still though, he was glad to be back to normal and seeing Faige happy made it more worth while.
As Don made his way to class, he felt his cellphone vibrate in his pocket. Without thinking, he pulled from his pocket and touched the screen. Immediately, the world turned black then streams of data filled his minds eye. Contact lists, texts, missed calls, calendar dates and high scores flashed at him, his mind instinctively reconstructing the binary code into pictures.
Mentally, Donovan let out a sigh. Positive that he'd just faceplanted in the hallway, he realized that he was going to need to re-adjust himself all over again.
Faige finally dropped to the ground, heading back to class. She rounded the corner and saw Don's comatose body laying face down on the ground. Grinning, she ran over to him and knelt down, picking his cell phone up and placing it back in his hands. "Dooooonnn" she called out "get back in your body before somebody writes on your face."
Another familiar snap and Don's eyes fluttered open. His face was sore from where his cheek had connected with the tiled floor. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, Don slide the phone away from him with his foot. "Well, that was embarrassing." He muttered as he fixed his glasses.
Looking up at Faige, he grinned a bit, "Remind me again why I wanted my powers back?"
"Because you enjoy faceplanting in the hallway in front of everyone." She picked the phone up, dropping it into the pocket of his jacket. "I gotta get back to Chem before they give me detention! See ya!"
And with that she ran off down the hallway and disappeared into one of the rooms.
Climbing to his feet, Don shook his head with a small smile, "If Jitters can be happy to have his powers back, I guess I can't complain." He mumbled to himself as he made his way to class. As he sat back down, Don stared at his calculator then at his math problem, "Still...it has it's benefits."
This is my signature.
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Diya Behari
- Former Member
- Posts:211
- Joined:Tue May 17, 2011 1:55 pm
- Contact:
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
"I’m deeply concerned about this choice you’re making, girls.”
The scene in Mr. Herrera’s office was tense. The headmaster was seated behind his imposing desk, with Mr. Maximilian, looking tired after being up all night, standing to his right. In front of the desk sat Diya and Lauren, each staring down their headmaster, stone faced.
“Mr. Maximilian told me a little bit about what happened this morning, but I want to hear it from you two. Why don’t you want to undergo the procedure to restore your powers?”
Diya glanced at Lauren quickly before offering her argument first. “It’s no secret I didn't like what I could do. Muscle memory? Not only a totally weak power, but seriously? It ruined my whole life. If I can't just not be a mutant anymore, being one with useful abilities seems like the next best thing.”
"I'm with her,” Lauren said quickly. “I'm tired of dealing with the side effects. I'm tired of being a human space heater. If Diya likes those powers, she can have them!"
Diya nodded. "Lauren is doing way better with my old abilities than I did. I worked with Ms. Wilson on handling the side effects that come with my new abilities. I don't see why we should be forced to do anything if we're both happy."
“And we are both happy,” Lauren emphasized. “I like my new powers just fine, and Diya's been doing far better with hers than I did when I first got them."
“This isn’t about what makes you happiest,” Mr. Maximilian said, sounding as tired as he looked. “This goes far beyond the two of you. We have no idea what could happen if you two refuse. You could both lose your powers eventually. You could be killed. Diya with super strength and fire powers and Lauren with muscle memory were never supposed to exist in this universe. It’s quite possible the universe would try to find a way to correct itself - killing you or otherwise eliminating you from existence in the process.” He stated this matter-of-factly, not trying to scare the girls, but not willing to sugar coat the realities of the situation.
Lauren bristled at Mr. Maximilian’s warning. “Yeah, like we couldn't die in twenty minutes in a skirmish with some Skulls? Or turn down the wrong alley and get caught aware by one of Vhaz crackpot surgeons? And how about those little missions everyone went on last night? There was zero chance of anybody dying then, right?” It was a challenge, but one that the adults in the room let roll right past them.
"And I have fire shields now. Fire shields!” Diya repeated for emphasis. “I’ll take my chances with the universe. I figure I'm safer when up against the usual bad guys we face on patrol now than I was earlier. Since Lauren's okay with giving up that safety net, why does this bother you guys? It should be our choice."
“It should be our choice,” Lauren repeated, nodding in agreement. “You shouldn't get to choose when we're allowed to take risks and when we're not. It's not right for you to tell us we can risk our lives only on your terms.”
Mr. Herrera sighed and shared a look with Mr. Maximilian. Both men were frustrated and tired and the girls clearly weren’t in the mood to listen to reason. “Well, girls, I’m still concerned about this decision, I won’t lie to you. I strongly believe it is in your best interest to go along with the swap. Due to your status as minors, however, this isn’t a decision that is solely up to you. I shall be contacting your parents to ask their opinions and, if they agree with you, they will have to come meet with us in person in order to give their formal permission to allow you to do this against the better judgment of the school.” Mr. Maximilian didn’t look pleased, but nodded in agreement with the headmaster.
Mr Herrera glanced at his watch. “It’s time for you girls to be heading to class. Lunch period ended five minutes ago. Be prepared to hear from me again soon.” He nodded again to the girls to dismiss them.
Diya and Lauren filed out of Mr. Herrera’s office, silent until they’d turned the corner. “I think that went well,” Lauren said brightly.
Diya shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. I don’t know what my parents are going to say.”
They reached Lauren’s class first. The pair hesitated outside the door for a quick moment. “You okay?” Lauren asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Diya said quickly. “I’ll catch you later, I guess.”
“Yeah. Catch you later.”
The scene in Mr. Herrera’s office was tense. The headmaster was seated behind his imposing desk, with Mr. Maximilian, looking tired after being up all night, standing to his right. In front of the desk sat Diya and Lauren, each staring down their headmaster, stone faced.
“Mr. Maximilian told me a little bit about what happened this morning, but I want to hear it from you two. Why don’t you want to undergo the procedure to restore your powers?”
Diya glanced at Lauren quickly before offering her argument first. “It’s no secret I didn't like what I could do. Muscle memory? Not only a totally weak power, but seriously? It ruined my whole life. If I can't just not be a mutant anymore, being one with useful abilities seems like the next best thing.”
"I'm with her,” Lauren said quickly. “I'm tired of dealing with the side effects. I'm tired of being a human space heater. If Diya likes those powers, she can have them!"
Diya nodded. "Lauren is doing way better with my old abilities than I did. I worked with Ms. Wilson on handling the side effects that come with my new abilities. I don't see why we should be forced to do anything if we're both happy."
“And we are both happy,” Lauren emphasized. “I like my new powers just fine, and Diya's been doing far better with hers than I did when I first got them."
“This isn’t about what makes you happiest,” Mr. Maximilian said, sounding as tired as he looked. “This goes far beyond the two of you. We have no idea what could happen if you two refuse. You could both lose your powers eventually. You could be killed. Diya with super strength and fire powers and Lauren with muscle memory were never supposed to exist in this universe. It’s quite possible the universe would try to find a way to correct itself - killing you or otherwise eliminating you from existence in the process.” He stated this matter-of-factly, not trying to scare the girls, but not willing to sugar coat the realities of the situation.
Lauren bristled at Mr. Maximilian’s warning. “Yeah, like we couldn't die in twenty minutes in a skirmish with some Skulls? Or turn down the wrong alley and get caught aware by one of Vhaz crackpot surgeons? And how about those little missions everyone went on last night? There was zero chance of anybody dying then, right?” It was a challenge, but one that the adults in the room let roll right past them.
"And I have fire shields now. Fire shields!” Diya repeated for emphasis. “I’ll take my chances with the universe. I figure I'm safer when up against the usual bad guys we face on patrol now than I was earlier. Since Lauren's okay with giving up that safety net, why does this bother you guys? It should be our choice."
“It should be our choice,” Lauren repeated, nodding in agreement. “You shouldn't get to choose when we're allowed to take risks and when we're not. It's not right for you to tell us we can risk our lives only on your terms.”
Mr. Herrera sighed and shared a look with Mr. Maximilian. Both men were frustrated and tired and the girls clearly weren’t in the mood to listen to reason. “Well, girls, I’m still concerned about this decision, I won’t lie to you. I strongly believe it is in your best interest to go along with the swap. Due to your status as minors, however, this isn’t a decision that is solely up to you. I shall be contacting your parents to ask their opinions and, if they agree with you, they will have to come meet with us in person in order to give their formal permission to allow you to do this against the better judgment of the school.” Mr. Maximilian didn’t look pleased, but nodded in agreement with the headmaster.
Mr Herrera glanced at his watch. “It’s time for you girls to be heading to class. Lunch period ended five minutes ago. Be prepared to hear from me again soon.” He nodded again to the girls to dismiss them.
Diya and Lauren filed out of Mr. Herrera’s office, silent until they’d turned the corner. “I think that went well,” Lauren said brightly.
Diya shrugged. “Maybe. I dunno. I don’t know what my parents are going to say.”
They reached Lauren’s class first. The pair hesitated outside the door for a quick moment. “You okay?” Lauren asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Diya said quickly. “I’ll catch you later, I guess.”
“Yeah. Catch you later.”
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David Hurt
- Member
- Posts:370
- Joined:Wed Aug 24, 2011 9:36 pm
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
David didn't have to open his eyes to know that the last flash of light had faded. He didn't have to see it; he could feel it.
He could feel everything. The chair, the walls, the spinning blades of the fans, the spiderweb in the corner of the ceiling -- ew, and the spider and what might be her lunch. Gross, but at least the web was six kinds of geometrically amazing. He'd been locked in a closet, a tiny one for one month and six days, give or take a few hours, not that he was counting three or four times a day. He'd almost forgotten how big the world was and how many little things there were filling it up, but now the door was thrown open.
Matt, in the chair beside him, dropped off the radar. David still had no idea how he could do that so casually. After one month and six days of practice, he'd never shaken the fear of falling straight down and never stopping. Really, what was stopping him? The chair was solid, the floor was solid, and nothing was ever going to change that again. Ever. Never. Or else. Or else what? Not sure, but it would be something very bad and not at all fun. Best threat ever. This was why David was not the first, second, or forty-third choice for interrogation. Maybe forty-fourth if the other interrogators were having a really off week.
David felt the door open, this time the real one, not metaphor door from the tiny closet. Not a real closet, which would be some kind of child abuse. Not that the guy wasn't a criminal already. And not that messing around with the school like this probably shouldn't qualify as child abuse on some sort of level. Mr. Max's voice announced that they were done, in case they hadn't noticed, and that it was the next people's turn in the chairs, but David had a couple things he needed to do first.
Out of the small pocket of his backpack, a strip of gray satin hopped into the air and slid around under his collar while his shoelaces pulled apart and began twining around each other again. For the first time in one month, six days, David was going to fly out of the room properly dressed.
Oh god.
David was going to fly out of the room.
He was gonna fly!
He could feel everything. The chair, the walls, the spinning blades of the fans, the spiderweb in the corner of the ceiling -- ew, and the spider and what might be her lunch. Gross, but at least the web was six kinds of geometrically amazing. He'd been locked in a closet, a tiny one for one month and six days, give or take a few hours, not that he was counting three or four times a day. He'd almost forgotten how big the world was and how many little things there were filling it up, but now the door was thrown open.
Matt, in the chair beside him, dropped off the radar. David still had no idea how he could do that so casually. After one month and six days of practice, he'd never shaken the fear of falling straight down and never stopping. Really, what was stopping him? The chair was solid, the floor was solid, and nothing was ever going to change that again. Ever. Never. Or else. Or else what? Not sure, but it would be something very bad and not at all fun. Best threat ever. This was why David was not the first, second, or forty-third choice for interrogation. Maybe forty-fourth if the other interrogators were having a really off week.
David felt the door open, this time the real one, not metaphor door from the tiny closet. Not a real closet, which would be some kind of child abuse. Not that the guy wasn't a criminal already. And not that messing around with the school like this probably shouldn't qualify as child abuse on some sort of level. Mr. Max's voice announced that they were done, in case they hadn't noticed, and that it was the next people's turn in the chairs, but David had a couple things he needed to do first.
Out of the small pocket of his backpack, a strip of gray satin hopped into the air and slid around under his collar while his shoelaces pulled apart and began twining around each other again. For the first time in one month, six days, David was going to fly out of the room properly dressed.
Oh god.
David was going to fly out of the room.
He was gonna fly!
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Guillermo Espinosa
- Former Member
- Posts:84
- Joined:Tue Aug 16, 2011 7:46 pm
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
Espy stepped out of the lab like a refreshed man. He didn't have to do anything crazy to see if his powers were back. He didn't phase through walls, he didn't fly, he just...walked. Espy felt his muscles working better, every stride was improved, every glance he tossed around the room looked at exactly the point he wanted to. For a little while, it made him forget that losing his powers wasn't the reason he's been so sad recently, and he enjoyed the moments of peace before making his way outside campus.
Espy took a deep breath, and bolted. He immediately found a fire escape, and leapt onto the ladder, pulling himself as the ladder unhinged and dropped to its maximum length. He flipped himself on to the fire escape stairs, running up to the roof as fast as he could. He felt his lungs working perfect, all his organs in perfect unison. He walked to the edge, noticing the gap between the buildings. He took a few steps back before leaping onto the other building, and rolling his way to a standing position.
He continue to free-run until he got bored. There were other things he needed to test with his powers.
Espy took a deep breath, and bolted. He immediately found a fire escape, and leapt onto the ladder, pulling himself as the ladder unhinged and dropped to its maximum length. He flipped himself on to the fire escape stairs, running up to the roof as fast as he could. He felt his lungs working perfect, all his organs in perfect unison. He walked to the edge, noticing the gap between the buildings. He took a few steps back before leaping onto the other building, and rolling his way to a standing position.
He continue to free-run until he got bored. There were other things he needed to test with his powers.
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Arthur Rawlings
- Member
- Posts:939
- Joined:Sun Sep 26, 2010 3:08 pm
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
"Arthur Rawlings."
The boy shook himself out of his thoughts, or more accurately out of his lack of thoughts. None of it mattered. Which was stupid, he knew. None of it should matter. In a matter of minutes, seconds even, he would be perfect. All over again. And nothing in between would matter.
He pulled the drawstring on the shorts tight around his smaller, chiseled waist and adjusted the t-shirt to fall loosely from his sculpted shoulders. Without a word, he walked out of the bunker and into the night. He didn't have to think about the cold. He didn't have to worry about being seen.
In a dark corner, he sank to the ground and leaned his head against the wall. A red glow grazed the bricks by his eyes, but it shimmered and refracted, like sunlight passing through a pond. Nothing in between mattered. He had everything back, like it had never left. He was whole. He was perfect all over again. And he had no reason to cry.
He just couldn't make himself stop.
The boy shook himself out of his thoughts, or more accurately out of his lack of thoughts. None of it mattered. Which was stupid, he knew. None of it should matter. In a matter of minutes, seconds even, he would be perfect. All over again. And nothing in between would matter.
- He wouldn't miss the way memories came unexpectedly, unfocused, and unwelcome.
"Artie. Out." Papa wasn't really that big, and he never wore his hair that way.
The lab wasn't that dark, and the equipment only vaguely resembled the oversize kitchen appliances he saw here. Knowing the picture was wrong didn't fix it, just make it blurrier. The truth didn't replace the lies and couldn't block them out. The two folded over each other, blending and smearing at the inconsistent edges.
- "Artie. Out." They were busy. It was important. And the machines were big. And sharp. He hated those machines. And always would.
He pulled the drawstring on the shorts tight around his smaller, chiseled waist and adjusted the t-shirt to fall loosely from his sculpted shoulders. Without a word, he walked out of the bunker and into the night. He didn't have to think about the cold. He didn't have to worry about being seen.
In a dark corner, he sank to the ground and leaned his head against the wall. A red glow grazed the bricks by his eyes, but it shimmered and refracted, like sunlight passing through a pond. Nothing in between mattered. He had everything back, like it had never left. He was whole. He was perfect all over again. And he had no reason to cry.
He just couldn't make himself stop.
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Diya Behari
- Former Member
- Posts:211
- Joined:Tue May 17, 2011 1:55 pm
- Contact:
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
Diya had never realized how much effort it took to act normal.
It had been easy to disregard the quirks of switching back over the long weekend. Twitches and antsyness could be blamed on the awkwardness of spending a long holiday not only with someone else’s family, but three friends who, at best, were very disappointed in her.
She’d apologized to them before the big meal. Everyone had hugged and accepted each other and moved on cheerfully.
That was a lie.
Roach still thought she was an idiot. She wasn’t sure when they’d be back to normal.
But back at school, back in her normal routine, excuses for her quirks weren’t as easy to find. The way she tapped her pencil in perfect sync with her lab partner in science, or messing up a layup in gym class the exact same way as the person ahead of her, or walking with the mincing gait of the girl who wore high heels and rolled up her skirt too short.
Way back in elementary school, back before gymnastics had become a Serious Vocation and she was just another kid, Diya had been teased some for being a copy cat. She would fall off the monkey bars in the same spot as someone else, or constantly shift how she sat on her carpet square during story time. That’s when she was tested for ADHD. She didn’t have it, but she got put on Ritalin for awhile anyway.
The little pills did nothing.
It only took a few days for Diya to re-learn her old tricks, but those were days she spent feeling clumsy and foolish - decidedly un-Diya-like.
She spent most of the first week back from break hiding in her room. Which solved the problem of having to see people, but gave her too much time to think.
”This is preposterous. There’s no question. Diya, you will undergo this procedure without another moment’s delay.”
Her mom on the conference call in Mr. Herrera’s office, with Lauren and her parents sitting near by.
”There is no rationale, Jack. This is Diya being stubborn. Diya, you heard your headmaster’s warnings. I will not have you risking your life to satisfy some foolish fantasy you have. I do not know what that girl has said to you, but clearly you are not thinking straight and it is most likely due to her influence. I warned you, Jack, did I not, that we would have to keep a close eye on Diya at that school?”
The contempt in her mother’s voice when referring to Lauren - it was actually worse than Roach’s.
”We can’t trust people like that, Jack. And Diya should know better.”
And it had taken Mr. Herrera’s intervention to get her shut up. Tell everyone to take a break, they’d make a decision the next day.
No one had changed their minds. Wednesday afternoon, when most of the school was on their way to cozy family holiday dinners, Diya and Lauren were led to the bunker. A flash of light, a feeling of wooziness, and everything was “back to normal.”
It was now Saturday night, a week and a half after getting switched back. Her old tricks for looking normal, to not be a copy-cat, were second nature again.
She’d already worn out one pair of brand new gloves, having spent so much time fidgeting with them rather than looking at other people and risking mimicking them.
Saturday night was quiet in the dorms. She didn’t know where everyone else was - and didn’t really care, either.
Diya had been sitting on her bed with her phone in her hands for an hour, debating. Psyching herself up and then losing her confidence again.
At 9:01, Diya finally hit the speed dial button.
After three rings, Diya was about to hang up. No one was home, they were out having a livelier Saturday night than she was - “Hello?”
Diya tensed up. “Mom,” she said flatly.
“Diya! We missed you on Thanksgiving! We were hoping -”
“I called to tell you something,” Diya said quickly. If she let her mom start talking, she knew she’d lose her nerve.
“Yes?” Marie Behari’s voice was flat and cool. She didn’t like being interrupted. Diya knew that.
She didn’t really care right now.
Diya took a deep breath. “You’re done making decisions for me. You have no say over my abilities any more, okay?”
A moment of silence. “Diya Behari, you do not speak to me that way.”
“I’m seventeen years old, Mom!” Diya snapped. “I’m not a child. I can decide how to live my own life.” There was a click on the line. Diya pulled the phone from her ear to check if they’d been disconnected, but the call timer was still going. “I’m not an experiment. You wanted me to switch back even though I was happy with my abilities for once? Fine. I’ve switched back. I’m normal again. Not normal as you define it, but normal for me.”
Her dad’s voice suddenly interrupted. That must have been the click, him picking up the extension. “Diya, we were worried about you. As was your school. We’ve only ever made decisions in your best interest.”
“Really, Dad?” Diya snapped. “It was in my best interest to ship me off to boarding school rather than make Mom follow the doctor’s orders? Mom, I’m serious this time. No more tests. No more experiments. I’m not your guinea pig any more.”
“Diya Behari, you are a minor. We are responsible for you and will continue to make decisions as we see fit.” Marie was speaking through gritted teeth, Diya could tell. She was getting rattled.
Good.
“I swear, you suggest one more experiment to “fix” me and it will be the last time you say anything to me.”
“Diya,” Marie began again, but this time it was Jack that cut her off.
“Marie? We need to listen to her,” he said gently. “We almost lost our little girl once. If she says she’s done searching for a cure? We need to respect that.”
Marie made a few indignant sounds before hanging up abruptly. Diya was silent.
“You still there, Dynamo?”
“Yeah,” Diya said softly.
“I love you. And so does your mom.”
“Yeah,” Diya repeated.
“I know you don’t like the decision we made, Diya, but we couldn’t let you risk your life like that.”
Diya was silent.
“This I can support, though. You are old enough to decide what tests you want to take. And if you don’t want any more? I support you. If you change your mind? I’ll still support you.”
Diya had a thousand questions running through her head, most variations on “Why?” But she couldn’t get any of them out.
“You seem tired. We’ll talk later. I love you. Good night.”
Diya clicked off her phone without another word.
It had been easy to disregard the quirks of switching back over the long weekend. Twitches and antsyness could be blamed on the awkwardness of spending a long holiday not only with someone else’s family, but three friends who, at best, were very disappointed in her.
She’d apologized to them before the big meal. Everyone had hugged and accepted each other and moved on cheerfully.
That was a lie.
Roach still thought she was an idiot. She wasn’t sure when they’d be back to normal.
But back at school, back in her normal routine, excuses for her quirks weren’t as easy to find. The way she tapped her pencil in perfect sync with her lab partner in science, or messing up a layup in gym class the exact same way as the person ahead of her, or walking with the mincing gait of the girl who wore high heels and rolled up her skirt too short.
Way back in elementary school, back before gymnastics had become a Serious Vocation and she was just another kid, Diya had been teased some for being a copy cat. She would fall off the monkey bars in the same spot as someone else, or constantly shift how she sat on her carpet square during story time. That’s when she was tested for ADHD. She didn’t have it, but she got put on Ritalin for awhile anyway.
The little pills did nothing.
It only took a few days for Diya to re-learn her old tricks, but those were days she spent feeling clumsy and foolish - decidedly un-Diya-like.
She spent most of the first week back from break hiding in her room. Which solved the problem of having to see people, but gave her too much time to think.
”This is preposterous. There’s no question. Diya, you will undergo this procedure without another moment’s delay.”
Her mom on the conference call in Mr. Herrera’s office, with Lauren and her parents sitting near by.
”There is no rationale, Jack. This is Diya being stubborn. Diya, you heard your headmaster’s warnings. I will not have you risking your life to satisfy some foolish fantasy you have. I do not know what that girl has said to you, but clearly you are not thinking straight and it is most likely due to her influence. I warned you, Jack, did I not, that we would have to keep a close eye on Diya at that school?”
The contempt in her mother’s voice when referring to Lauren - it was actually worse than Roach’s.
”We can’t trust people like that, Jack. And Diya should know better.”
And it had taken Mr. Herrera’s intervention to get her shut up. Tell everyone to take a break, they’d make a decision the next day.
No one had changed their minds. Wednesday afternoon, when most of the school was on their way to cozy family holiday dinners, Diya and Lauren were led to the bunker. A flash of light, a feeling of wooziness, and everything was “back to normal.”
It was now Saturday night, a week and a half after getting switched back. Her old tricks for looking normal, to not be a copy-cat, were second nature again.
She’d already worn out one pair of brand new gloves, having spent so much time fidgeting with them rather than looking at other people and risking mimicking them.
Saturday night was quiet in the dorms. She didn’t know where everyone else was - and didn’t really care, either.
Diya had been sitting on her bed with her phone in her hands for an hour, debating. Psyching herself up and then losing her confidence again.
At 9:01, Diya finally hit the speed dial button.
After three rings, Diya was about to hang up. No one was home, they were out having a livelier Saturday night than she was - “Hello?”
Diya tensed up. “Mom,” she said flatly.
“Diya! We missed you on Thanksgiving! We were hoping -”
“I called to tell you something,” Diya said quickly. If she let her mom start talking, she knew she’d lose her nerve.
“Yes?” Marie Behari’s voice was flat and cool. She didn’t like being interrupted. Diya knew that.
She didn’t really care right now.
Diya took a deep breath. “You’re done making decisions for me. You have no say over my abilities any more, okay?”
A moment of silence. “Diya Behari, you do not speak to me that way.”
“I’m seventeen years old, Mom!” Diya snapped. “I’m not a child. I can decide how to live my own life.” There was a click on the line. Diya pulled the phone from her ear to check if they’d been disconnected, but the call timer was still going. “I’m not an experiment. You wanted me to switch back even though I was happy with my abilities for once? Fine. I’ve switched back. I’m normal again. Not normal as you define it, but normal for me.”
Her dad’s voice suddenly interrupted. That must have been the click, him picking up the extension. “Diya, we were worried about you. As was your school. We’ve only ever made decisions in your best interest.”
“Really, Dad?” Diya snapped. “It was in my best interest to ship me off to boarding school rather than make Mom follow the doctor’s orders? Mom, I’m serious this time. No more tests. No more experiments. I’m not your guinea pig any more.”
“Diya Behari, you are a minor. We are responsible for you and will continue to make decisions as we see fit.” Marie was speaking through gritted teeth, Diya could tell. She was getting rattled.
Good.
“I swear, you suggest one more experiment to “fix” me and it will be the last time you say anything to me.”
“Diya,” Marie began again, but this time it was Jack that cut her off.
“Marie? We need to listen to her,” he said gently. “We almost lost our little girl once. If she says she’s done searching for a cure? We need to respect that.”
Marie made a few indignant sounds before hanging up abruptly. Diya was silent.
“You still there, Dynamo?”
“Yeah,” Diya said softly.
“I love you. And so does your mom.”
“Yeah,” Diya repeated.
“I know you don’t like the decision we made, Diya, but we couldn’t let you risk your life like that.”
Diya was silent.
“This I can support, though. You are old enough to decide what tests you want to take. And if you don’t want any more? I support you. If you change your mind? I’ll still support you.”
Diya had a thousand questions running through her head, most variations on “Why?” But she couldn’t get any of them out.
“You seem tired. We’ll talk later. I love you. Good night.”
Diya clicked off her phone without another word.
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Westbrook Academy
- Faculty
- Posts:89
- Joined:Tue Sep 06, 2011 2:27 pm
Epilogue
Norman Protz couldn't remember the last time he had been this calm. His plan had failed, and spectacularly at that - backfires on almost every front, but failure wasn't new. He was actually rather glad he had encountered that ridiculous, interfering wizard in his highly enviable sport coat. Walking away with only a handful of powers instead of hundreds had all but sealed his fate, but what he ended up gaining had the potential to be even more valuable in the long run.
Prison wasn't so bad. He'd earned a little leniency, though not quite as much as anticipated, for surrendering and willingly helping to set things right. The flaw with so many of the people who ended up in here was the lack of proper planning, not just for success but for failure as well. Norman Protz never did anything he couldn't undo, and that all on its own had shaved years off his sentence. He'd also gained some good will among the inmate population by repairing the antiquated VCR. As long as he was in the room, they now had immaculate satellite reception.
As long as he was in the room. That was the kicker, in the sense that he could have kicked himself for not realizing it before. All that work, all the precious years and heartache squandered on proving something so simple, that he wasn't insane. Add to that the meticulous planning and effort dedicated to attaining something he had all along: power. He still had to stifle a chortle whenever he thought of it; too much gleeful laughter in this place led to specialized attention he preferred to avoid.
He'd been tested and confirmed a mutant as a part of his processing. He had been afraid for a number of years to consider the option that what he knew to be true might really be what all the stuffed shirts in their ivory towers had called it, the delusional ramblings of a madman. Even after constructing his first working prototype, proof that his theories worked in the real world, far more conclusive than anything Einstein ever had going for him, the doubts lingered in the unacknowledged, dusty corners of his mind. All that fear had been banished. True, he had been somewhat mistaken to make the blanket assertion that established laws of nature and mathematics didn't apply. In fact, as he now knew, they merely didn't apply to him.
He was still testing the limits and reaches of his abilities. Thus far, he appeared unable to exert direct control over them. No amount of will had yet caused a coin to land on its edge or the drops of water from the slow leak in his cell to fall in any path but directly toward Earth. However, now that he was paying attention, there were isolated incidents worth noting. A string of impossible hands at the poker game one table over, a sturdy ladder collapsing under the weight of a single person, a man's arms snapping in the gym mid-bench press. Some or all of them could be mere coincidence, but Norman had a new, vested interest in the unlikely. At least he had one reliable means of employing, if not controlling, his power.
Norman pulled the old VCR remote out of the hidden hole in his mattress and turned it over in his hands as he leaned back on his bunk. So many possibilities, but two things were certain. These walls and bars adhered strictly to natural laws.
And no law could hold him for long.
Prison wasn't so bad. He'd earned a little leniency, though not quite as much as anticipated, for surrendering and willingly helping to set things right. The flaw with so many of the people who ended up in here was the lack of proper planning, not just for success but for failure as well. Norman Protz never did anything he couldn't undo, and that all on its own had shaved years off his sentence. He'd also gained some good will among the inmate population by repairing the antiquated VCR. As long as he was in the room, they now had immaculate satellite reception.
As long as he was in the room. That was the kicker, in the sense that he could have kicked himself for not realizing it before. All that work, all the precious years and heartache squandered on proving something so simple, that he wasn't insane. Add to that the meticulous planning and effort dedicated to attaining something he had all along: power. He still had to stifle a chortle whenever he thought of it; too much gleeful laughter in this place led to specialized attention he preferred to avoid.
He'd been tested and confirmed a mutant as a part of his processing. He had been afraid for a number of years to consider the option that what he knew to be true might really be what all the stuffed shirts in their ivory towers had called it, the delusional ramblings of a madman. Even after constructing his first working prototype, proof that his theories worked in the real world, far more conclusive than anything Einstein ever had going for him, the doubts lingered in the unacknowledged, dusty corners of his mind. All that fear had been banished. True, he had been somewhat mistaken to make the blanket assertion that established laws of nature and mathematics didn't apply. In fact, as he now knew, they merely didn't apply to him.
He was still testing the limits and reaches of his abilities. Thus far, he appeared unable to exert direct control over them. No amount of will had yet caused a coin to land on its edge or the drops of water from the slow leak in his cell to fall in any path but directly toward Earth. However, now that he was paying attention, there were isolated incidents worth noting. A string of impossible hands at the poker game one table over, a sturdy ladder collapsing under the weight of a single person, a man's arms snapping in the gym mid-bench press. Some or all of them could be mere coincidence, but Norman had a new, vested interest in the unlikely. At least he had one reliable means of employing, if not controlling, his power.
Norman pulled the old VCR remote out of the hidden hole in his mattress and turned it over in his hands as he leaned back on his bunk. So many possibilities, but two things were certain. These walls and bars adhered strictly to natural laws.
And no law could hold him for long.
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Lauren Lombardi
- Member
- Posts:309
- Joined:Tue May 17, 2011 9:30 pm
Re: Nothing's Improbable: Restore
Please forgive my tardiness. This takes place the week of Thanksgiving.
Except for a few token attempts that fell flat, no one spoke during the drive home Wednesday night. Lauren’s parents insisted on going home shortly after forcing Lauren and Diya to undergo the procedure to swap their powers back.
Lauren had offered to take the bus home Thanksgiving morning, but neither of them would have it. Maybe they suspected that she was toying with the idea of not going home at all. Whatever their reason, Lauren was incensed at yet another exertion of control over her life. One night. They couldn’t even leave her alone for one night. She felt the same sense of bitter rage that washed over after she got Diya’s powers – rather, her own old powers – back. First she had felt feverish, then cold, and then a sort of nauseous feeling that usually meant she had ignored her hunger for too long. Then Lauren felt the anger that made her skin tingle and start to burn, forcing her to fight to suppress her powers or risk bursting into flames in the middle of the bunker.
She was certain if either of her parents said the wrong thing, she’d simply erupt, both figuratively and literally, right there in the back seat of their car. For some reason, the effect on the upholstery occurred to her sooner than the likelihood of causing an accident, and she wasn’t sure if she should be worried about that.
Thanksgiving morning dulled her anger but did nothing to brighten her mood. It was supposed to be a day to be thankful, but she couldn’t summon up anything to feel thankful for. Sure, she was alive, and the universe wouldn’t be out to get her. That should be something, right?
She stayed in bed way past her normal five or six o’clock wake up. She kept her back to the door and refused to look when she heard someone, presumably her mom, checking on her. “Lauren?” her mom asked quietly. “Uncle Bobby and Aunt Liza are here. Roslyn was wondering if you’re coming out.”
Gnawing hunger finally drove her from bed. According to her clock it was only a little after ten. Only. Normally I’d be up at least four hours ago.She threw on some jeans and a sweat shirt to ward off her chill and combed her hair with her fingers.
Lauren found her family gathered in the kitchen. Her arrival was greeted with a chorus of “good morning” and “hello,” to which she merely nodded, earning a mild disapproving look from her father. She took in each face in the room. Her cousin Roslyn quickly found something interesting in the wood grain of the table. Her aunt and uncle exchanged uneasy, worried glances. Only her parents were willing to look into her eyes. They knew, then. Likely everyone knew.
Lauren spun around to the refrigerator. How much did they know? Who cared? Behind her, Uncle Bobby resumed sharing the detail of his recent trip to Seattle. Eggs. Milk. OJ. Lauren found some mushrooms on the shelf and some fresh peppers in the crisper drawer. With a pinch of cheese, she’d have the makings of a decent omelet. Or a frittata. Sort of. What it would be depended on whether or not it fell apart when Lauren tried to flip it, if she even cared enough to put the effort into keeping it together in the first place. A banana and a couple of English muffins from the freezer would round it off.
“Excuse me,” Lauren interrupted. She forced what she hoped was a pleasant enough smile. “I’m going to make a little,” she started and then glanced at the clock on the microwave, “a little brunch. Would anyone like anything?”
She was trying to be polite. In truth, she didn’t care if anyone wanted anything or not, and she sure didn’t want to bother making anything more than necessary. She was relieved when no one took her up on it. Four eggs, a cup of diced mushrooms, two cups of diced peppers, and cooking time later, Lauren was finally able to sit down.
“A little brunch?” Roslyn asked quietly?
Conversation around the table ceased. Roslyn’s question was probably nothing more than good-natured ribbing from her tone, but it cast a sudden and palpable pall over the room.
“It’s all part and parcel of the whole hero gig.” Lauren tried to mimic Genie from Aladdin. “Phenomenal super powers!” Her mother smiled, but Lauren gave up the act and almost glared back at her. “Rather enormous appetite.”
“Lauren?” her dad started to question.
“I’m fine. I’m just hungry.” Her words sounded too bright to her ears, chipper enough that surely everyone would know she was lying through her teeth, but she plastered on a fake smile anyway before returning to her meal. Their conversation resumed around her, and for all of her involvement, she could have just as easily not even been there.
Lauren wondered if it might even have been better if she weren’t there. She felt like the proverbial elephant in the room.
With a quiet clank, the pan settled into place as Lauren finished cleaning up. She was staring at it silently when she heard her mom’s voice right behind her. “Would you mind helping me with something upstairs, Lauren?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Lauren followed her mom upstairs to her parents’ room. As her mom closed the door, Lauren sighed audibly. She knew another talk was coming.
“Lauren, honey, I know you’re upset over what...”
“Upset? You’re right I’m upset! How do you expect me to feel?”
Her mother might have been surprised by Lauren’s outburst but she kept her composure. “You should be upset. I know...”
“Thanks for your permission!” Lauren snapped at her. “Is there any other part of my life you’d like to control? Are there any other feelings I should be feeling? Maybe you’d like to tell what I’m allowed to think next?”
“Lauren, that’s not...” Her mother tried to get a word in, but Lauren wasn’t finished.
“And you don’t know, mom! You can’t know! How can you? How can you know how it feels to have to eat as much for breakfast as,” Lauren paused and considered her choice of words. “As some people eat in a whole day? How it feels to try to get to the cafeteria early enough to beat everyone else there or to stop someplace off campus so no one else sees? Or how it feels to be cold all the time? To have people look at me funny for wearing a jacket or a sweat shirt when they think it’s warm? Or how it feels to know I can’t even make a proper snowball.”
Her mother seemed baffled. “Snowball?”
Lauren heaved a frustrated sigh. It was an odd segue, she knew. “A couple of heroes did a charity thing a while back and made it snow in the park. I couldn’t even make a snowball right. It kept melting in my hands. I think I made one half-decent one the whole time. A few weeks ago, Abby made it snow outside the dorms. So I made a snowball, no trouble at all.”
Lauren sat on her parent’s bed next to her mom. Her mom reached for her, and Lauren allowed herself to be pulled close.
“I had a chance to feel normal, mom. More normal, anyway. And I could skate without worrying about standing still and melting everything. I had no idea how much that would mean until it happened. You don’t know how it feels, OK? So don’t tell me you know.”
Her mom nodded as she stroked Lauren’s hair. They sat together in silence. Jackie was the first to break it.
“Lauren, honey, it’s Thanksgiving.”
“I know.”
“Uncle Chris and Aunt Carlene are already on their way. Your grandparents will be here this afternoon.”
Lauren lifted her head and her voice came out filled with exasperation. “What do you want me to say? I know it’s Thanksgiving. I know people are coming over. That doesn’t change anything. You and daddy said it was my life, that I could make my own decisions.”
“I know we said that, but this... This was too big, honey. What happened to you and Dee and to all of your friends... It wasn’t meant to happen. I guess you could say it wasn’t real.”
Not real. How could it not be real? Lauren shook her head. “It was real to me.”
“Honey, if I understand everything Mr. Herrera and Mr. Maximillian said, it was like an illusion, but one that could have killed you.”
“It was real, mom. It was real!”
Jackie took her hand and gripped it reassuringly. “Whatever it was, it was wrong, Lauren. You know that. You might not want to accept it, but you know it.”
She was right. Lauren knew it. That didn’t mean she was ready to admit it. Besides, that wasn’t the important part. “It doesn’t matter. You didn’t give me a choice.”
“You’re right. We didn’t.” Her mother was very matter-of-fact in her admission. “We had to make our own choice, and in the end we chose to override yours. You know we were just trying to do the very best thing for you. For both of you. But you have a choice right now. It might not be a big choice, but it’s your choice. You can be miserable this weekend and maybe make others miserable along the way, or you can try to find some joy in the holiday this weekend.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Just try, dear. It’s been a hard month, but if you try to look at the good that has come from this instead of the bad, it will show. Everyone will understand if you’re having trouble adjusting.”
Lauren shook her head. “I can’t.” Maybe she was being selfish, but she wasn’t ready to let go of it. Dee was mad at her. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. Either way, they had been happier with each other’s powers. Fate had dangled a tempting treat before both of them and then cruelly snatched it away, and her parents had helped.
That was no reason to make everyone suffer for Thanksgiving, though. Was it?
“Lauren...”
“Look, if you don’t want me to ruin things for everyone else, that’s fine. If you want me to pretend I’m OK with everything? I’ll put on the best performance I can. But that’s all it is. It’s just a performance.”
“Lauren, I’m not asking you to pretend like everything is OK.”
“It’s all I’ve got. If that’s not good enough, I’ll go back to school.” Lauren summoned up a beatific smile. “Shouldn’t we get back downstairs?” she said cheerfully. “Isn’t it rude to keep everyone waiting?”
Jackie acquiesced with a sad smile of her own. “Yes, it is. We’ll talk later, honey.”
Peyton was always telling the squad during cheer practice to keep smiling no matter what else was going on, no matter how much whatever you might be going through hurt inside. Her mom knew it wasn’t real. Likely her dad would, too. Lauren just hoped no one else would.
Except for a few token attempts that fell flat, no one spoke during the drive home Wednesday night. Lauren’s parents insisted on going home shortly after forcing Lauren and Diya to undergo the procedure to swap their powers back.
Lauren had offered to take the bus home Thanksgiving morning, but neither of them would have it. Maybe they suspected that she was toying with the idea of not going home at all. Whatever their reason, Lauren was incensed at yet another exertion of control over her life. One night. They couldn’t even leave her alone for one night. She felt the same sense of bitter rage that washed over after she got Diya’s powers – rather, her own old powers – back. First she had felt feverish, then cold, and then a sort of nauseous feeling that usually meant she had ignored her hunger for too long. Then Lauren felt the anger that made her skin tingle and start to burn, forcing her to fight to suppress her powers or risk bursting into flames in the middle of the bunker.
She was certain if either of her parents said the wrong thing, she’d simply erupt, both figuratively and literally, right there in the back seat of their car. For some reason, the effect on the upholstery occurred to her sooner than the likelihood of causing an accident, and she wasn’t sure if she should be worried about that.
Thanksgiving morning dulled her anger but did nothing to brighten her mood. It was supposed to be a day to be thankful, but she couldn’t summon up anything to feel thankful for. Sure, she was alive, and the universe wouldn’t be out to get her. That should be something, right?
She stayed in bed way past her normal five or six o’clock wake up. She kept her back to the door and refused to look when she heard someone, presumably her mom, checking on her. “Lauren?” her mom asked quietly. “Uncle Bobby and Aunt Liza are here. Roslyn was wondering if you’re coming out.”
Gnawing hunger finally drove her from bed. According to her clock it was only a little after ten. Only. Normally I’d be up at least four hours ago.She threw on some jeans and a sweat shirt to ward off her chill and combed her hair with her fingers.
Lauren found her family gathered in the kitchen. Her arrival was greeted with a chorus of “good morning” and “hello,” to which she merely nodded, earning a mild disapproving look from her father. She took in each face in the room. Her cousin Roslyn quickly found something interesting in the wood grain of the table. Her aunt and uncle exchanged uneasy, worried glances. Only her parents were willing to look into her eyes. They knew, then. Likely everyone knew.
Lauren spun around to the refrigerator. How much did they know? Who cared? Behind her, Uncle Bobby resumed sharing the detail of his recent trip to Seattle. Eggs. Milk. OJ. Lauren found some mushrooms on the shelf and some fresh peppers in the crisper drawer. With a pinch of cheese, she’d have the makings of a decent omelet. Or a frittata. Sort of. What it would be depended on whether or not it fell apart when Lauren tried to flip it, if she even cared enough to put the effort into keeping it together in the first place. A banana and a couple of English muffins from the freezer would round it off.
“Excuse me,” Lauren interrupted. She forced what she hoped was a pleasant enough smile. “I’m going to make a little,” she started and then glanced at the clock on the microwave, “a little brunch. Would anyone like anything?”
She was trying to be polite. In truth, she didn’t care if anyone wanted anything or not, and she sure didn’t want to bother making anything more than necessary. She was relieved when no one took her up on it. Four eggs, a cup of diced mushrooms, two cups of diced peppers, and cooking time later, Lauren was finally able to sit down.
“A little brunch?” Roslyn asked quietly?
Conversation around the table ceased. Roslyn’s question was probably nothing more than good-natured ribbing from her tone, but it cast a sudden and palpable pall over the room.
“It’s all part and parcel of the whole hero gig.” Lauren tried to mimic Genie from Aladdin. “Phenomenal super powers!” Her mother smiled, but Lauren gave up the act and almost glared back at her. “Rather enormous appetite.”
“Lauren?” her dad started to question.
“I’m fine. I’m just hungry.” Her words sounded too bright to her ears, chipper enough that surely everyone would know she was lying through her teeth, but she plastered on a fake smile anyway before returning to her meal. Their conversation resumed around her, and for all of her involvement, she could have just as easily not even been there.
Lauren wondered if it might even have been better if she weren’t there. She felt like the proverbial elephant in the room.
With a quiet clank, the pan settled into place as Lauren finished cleaning up. She was staring at it silently when she heard her mom’s voice right behind her. “Would you mind helping me with something upstairs, Lauren?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Lauren followed her mom upstairs to her parents’ room. As her mom closed the door, Lauren sighed audibly. She knew another talk was coming.
“Lauren, honey, I know you’re upset over what...”
“Upset? You’re right I’m upset! How do you expect me to feel?”
Her mother might have been surprised by Lauren’s outburst but she kept her composure. “You should be upset. I know...”
“Thanks for your permission!” Lauren snapped at her. “Is there any other part of my life you’d like to control? Are there any other feelings I should be feeling? Maybe you’d like to tell what I’m allowed to think next?”
“Lauren, that’s not...” Her mother tried to get a word in, but Lauren wasn’t finished.
“And you don’t know, mom! You can’t know! How can you? How can you know how it feels to have to eat as much for breakfast as,” Lauren paused and considered her choice of words. “As some people eat in a whole day? How it feels to try to get to the cafeteria early enough to beat everyone else there or to stop someplace off campus so no one else sees? Or how it feels to be cold all the time? To have people look at me funny for wearing a jacket or a sweat shirt when they think it’s warm? Or how it feels to know I can’t even make a proper snowball.”
Her mother seemed baffled. “Snowball?”
Lauren heaved a frustrated sigh. It was an odd segue, she knew. “A couple of heroes did a charity thing a while back and made it snow in the park. I couldn’t even make a snowball right. It kept melting in my hands. I think I made one half-decent one the whole time. A few weeks ago, Abby made it snow outside the dorms. So I made a snowball, no trouble at all.”
Lauren sat on her parent’s bed next to her mom. Her mom reached for her, and Lauren allowed herself to be pulled close.
“I had a chance to feel normal, mom. More normal, anyway. And I could skate without worrying about standing still and melting everything. I had no idea how much that would mean until it happened. You don’t know how it feels, OK? So don’t tell me you know.”
Her mom nodded as she stroked Lauren’s hair. They sat together in silence. Jackie was the first to break it.
“Lauren, honey, it’s Thanksgiving.”
“I know.”
“Uncle Chris and Aunt Carlene are already on their way. Your grandparents will be here this afternoon.”
Lauren lifted her head and her voice came out filled with exasperation. “What do you want me to say? I know it’s Thanksgiving. I know people are coming over. That doesn’t change anything. You and daddy said it was my life, that I could make my own decisions.”
“I know we said that, but this... This was too big, honey. What happened to you and Dee and to all of your friends... It wasn’t meant to happen. I guess you could say it wasn’t real.”
Not real. How could it not be real? Lauren shook her head. “It was real to me.”
“Honey, if I understand everything Mr. Herrera and Mr. Maximillian said, it was like an illusion, but one that could have killed you.”
“It was real, mom. It was real!”
Jackie took her hand and gripped it reassuringly. “Whatever it was, it was wrong, Lauren. You know that. You might not want to accept it, but you know it.”
She was right. Lauren knew it. That didn’t mean she was ready to admit it. Besides, that wasn’t the important part. “It doesn’t matter. You didn’t give me a choice.”
“You’re right. We didn’t.” Her mother was very matter-of-fact in her admission. “We had to make our own choice, and in the end we chose to override yours. You know we were just trying to do the very best thing for you. For both of you. But you have a choice right now. It might not be a big choice, but it’s your choice. You can be miserable this weekend and maybe make others miserable along the way, or you can try to find some joy in the holiday this weekend.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Just try, dear. It’s been a hard month, but if you try to look at the good that has come from this instead of the bad, it will show. Everyone will understand if you’re having trouble adjusting.”
Lauren shook her head. “I can’t.” Maybe she was being selfish, but she wasn’t ready to let go of it. Dee was mad at her. Maybe. She wasn’t sure. Either way, they had been happier with each other’s powers. Fate had dangled a tempting treat before both of them and then cruelly snatched it away, and her parents had helped.
That was no reason to make everyone suffer for Thanksgiving, though. Was it?
“Lauren...”
“Look, if you don’t want me to ruin things for everyone else, that’s fine. If you want me to pretend I’m OK with everything? I’ll put on the best performance I can. But that’s all it is. It’s just a performance.”
“Lauren, I’m not asking you to pretend like everything is OK.”
“It’s all I’ve got. If that’s not good enough, I’ll go back to school.” Lauren summoned up a beatific smile. “Shouldn’t we get back downstairs?” she said cheerfully. “Isn’t it rude to keep everyone waiting?”
Jackie acquiesced with a sad smile of her own. “Yes, it is. We’ll talk later, honey.”
Peyton was always telling the squad during cheer practice to keep smiling no matter what else was going on, no matter how much whatever you might be going through hurt inside. Her mom knew it wasn’t real. Likely her dad would, too. Lauren just hoped no one else would.
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