"You sure about this?" asked Biter.
"You doubting me?" retorted the dragon. "Just do as I say and there won't be any.... problems. Got it?"
"I just... don't know if I'm qualified for this. I mean, I am exceptionally good at killing people, but--"
"Just shut up already! Alright?" the dragon replied. He muttered something extremely offensive about dinosaurs not having the guts to do what they need to, and flew off.
Biter didn't mind the view, though he wasn't happy about his job. Guarding the castle. Feh. Sounded like work for a knight, not for a genetically enhanced lizard whose specialty was killing everything and anything. Actually, it seemed more like a job for a dragon... the coward.
But he couldn't help but relax as he watched the sun set over the horizon from the balcony of the terrace. He always loved being up high. He had a strange half-fear of heights that always confused him; if he was standing on a ladder, or something at a similar height, he was always terrified of falling. He knew it was dangerous, and it scared him to think of the consequences if he acted poorly on that account.
But if he was, say, up as high as he was -- which he estimated to be at least 300 feet up -- he felt invincible. He could see everything, like he was a god, almost. And it felt thrilling. The biting wind just added to his bliss. He never really minded the cold, which was odd for a lizard, being coldblooded and all. Plus, you know -- the wind was biting. It was his name, of course he liked things that bit.
"So, what's the deal?" asked an annoyingly familiar voice. Biter turned from his kingdom to see who it was, and to his surprise, he was staring at the star guy... what was his name? South? North? Didn't matter anyway, it wasn't like he remembered anyone else's names.
"Ugh," said Biter, sounding disgusted, or at least as much as he could manage. He was more surprised than anything else. "I thought you were dead."
"Thanks for the vote of luck," said North, grudgingly.
"Uh, it's, 'thanks for the vote of confidence,'" corrected Biter. "And anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you were in the doghouse. Myself, on the other hand, hit it off with the old bag of scales. I'm pretty sure. Hard to tell with him swearing like a sailor."
"Ah," said North. "That is one thing I would know about."
Suddenly a new voice rang out, echoing through the cylindrical terrace, becoming clearer as it got closer. "What is going on here? I hate to barge in -- oh, wait, no I don't. Who are you imbi-- ah. Should've known." By now the owner of the voice had made it to the top of the balcony, becoming clearly visible in the red, fading light.
It was The Super. Well, not actually. He looked almost exactly like him, though. Biter remembered having lunch with him a few times, but he never really said anything. Ever.
The biggest difference between this guy and the real Super was the color of his skin. Rather than having the blue-green tint of The Super's skin, this guy's complexion was more of a yellowish-orange. The cape he wore was a deep blue, instead of red, and his cap (to be honest, it looked like it was fitted with an old-fashioned TV antenna -- what was with that, anyway?) was red, in contrast to the famous hero's purple one. Plus, this dude had the wickedest evil grin Biter had ever seen before.
"Uh," said Biter. "Hi, again. Never caught your name before."
"That is simply because I never gave it to you."
There was a pause.
"Usually," cut in North, "this is where you tell us your name."
"I have no use of such things," sniffed the guy. "But, if you simply cannot continue without such a piece of information, call me simply: The Villain."
"Wow, so much useless information to get two stinking words," griped Biter. "And I thought you were the quiet one..." He scratched his head as he turned back to face the wind.
"Where is the blue one? He is not around.... is he?" The Villain asked tentatively.
"No," said Biter. "He appears to have disappeared. Two more things," he added, turning around to face the others again. "One: His name is The Blue Octo. Two: Are you... scared of him, or something?"
"No," answered The Villain, a little too quickly.
North burst out laughing. "Are you jesting? That lump of tentacles couldn't hurt a bee!"
"It's 'fly,' and: no one calls him a lump of tentacles but me. Also, ew. I'd say he's more of a mop, anyway." said Biter. "But seriously. What's your glitch with T-Bo?"
"Ah... T-Bone? Excuse me?" asked The Villain.
"HA!" shouted North. "I'm not the only one!"
"What?"
"Look, okay," said Biter. "Why're you such a scaredy-cat about The Blue Octo? What makes you so nervous about him? He's like, the most intellectual one of any of us, for crying out loud."
"It's... a long story."
Biter gestured at the empty castle, the barren plains around them. "We have plenty of time."
"What is our assignment here, anyway?" asked The Villain.
"What kind of name is 'The Villain,' anyway?" retorted Biter.
"No, seriously," said The Villain, the words slow in his mouth. He obviously just borrowed them from earlier in the conversation.
"No, seriously," repeated Biter, much more naturally.
"...It was a name I gave myself. The Super had earned his name; I felt I should have a fitting title such as that as well."
"Hm..." said Biter, over-exaggerating thinking about this information. "Doesn't fit nearly well as 'The Super.' Or 'Biter.' Or, heck, even 'North,' for crying out loud."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well," said Biter, "as you said, The Super earned his title. North was given his name, too, by the people of this planet. And I, I was given the name Biter in my earlier stages of development because of certain... tendencies... before reaching adulthood. All of us had our names layered carefully on top of our current titles and accomplishments. But you just sort of shoved yours in there, moving over what already existed. You might have tried to hide it, but the edges still stick out a bit. Make sense?"
"...In a way, I suppose," said The Villain. But now that I have answered your question, you must answer mine."
"Oh, must I?" sassed Biter, but North elbowed him.
"Okay, fine," said Biter, giving in. "I actually don't know much. The plan is to really just hang out in this castle, until the 'good guys', including The Super-- come close enough. Then we just, I dunno, battle. If we start losing we can retreat to the next castle and hang out there, doubling the forces for the next round of fighting."
"Sounds like a pretty skimpy plan to me," grumbled North.
"What makes you say that?" asked Biter.
"I mean, we'd need at least four guys to battle them."
"And what makes you say that? There are only four of them, surely we could--"
"Five." The Villain stared off into the distance, and it wasn't clear if he knew he'd said it out loud or not.
"Uh," stammered North, "what?"
"There are five of them. The Super, the older girl, the younger one, the boy, and then... a fifth party. I can't quite tell... Blast. Lost them. The Super must be keeping them as far away from my sight as possible, the nerve..." The Villain trailed off as he searched the empty air with his eyes, looking for something that as far as Biter could tell never existed in the first place.
"What are you talking about? It's not like you can see them from this far away. Right?" Biter wasn't so sure what was going on.
"That is exactly what is going on," said The Villain, lost in thought. Suddenly he perked up, as if a cloud had gone from his head and he could finally see again. "When did you say the blue tentacled creature disappeared?"
"Last night," said Biter. "This relevant, in any way, whatsoever?"
"Were any objects of yours missing?"
"Nothing, except for..." Biter suddenly froze with fear. A fifth party... Oh, T-Bo...
"Except for what?"
"The map I'd found yesterday morning. I assumed I had just misplaced it. But now..."
"My friends," said The Villain, "and I use that term lightly, by the way; it appears that your good friend The Blue Octo has gone rogue."
Hey, guys. I've got a slight fever. I can't sleep; I keep getting too hot or too cold. I can never find a comfortable position, either. It's just really frustrating. So I wrote something to help my nerves. (Sorry, Mom.) And nothing is more fun than writing about Biter.
So, yeah. Expect more writing to be happenin' next week, and the week after that. Because I don't have school then -- Yay, Christmas! -- so I'll have a lot more free time on my hands.
And sorry about the last post being so long... I just couldn't end the thing. It was kind of annoying, actually. Maybe that's why it never got more than three views. And I think two of those are mine.
I hope you're reading this one, though. It's significantly shorter, and more fun to read, I like to think.
So, enjoy. And have fun, and stuff.
~PolarFarina.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Monday, December 8, 2014
Chapter Eighteen: Caught
Rose swept her long hair out of her eyes. She wondered where was really was, and who that short-haired girl had been. She had looked so familiar...
Rose looked around the room, dumping the heavy backpack on the floor. She has here now; and at any rate, the time traveling device was fried. It only lasted for one jump, as planned.
The room was very purple. So purple, in fact, she wondered what this room was even for. So much purple could serve no practical purpose as far as she knew. There was a door, also purple, on the far end of the room, carved into the wall. It seemed that this room didn't have a door to begin with... and someone had added it in later. There was a crisp white sheet of paper taped to the door, which stood out. It was the only thing besides her in the room that wasn't purple.
She walked over to it, and read what had been handwritten in purple ink on the white sheet of paper:
"Hi, it's me. That girl you just ran into. I just disappeared, most likely. For you, it'll just have happened. But for me, it hasn't happened yet.
There's some stuff you need to know before you move on. There's going to be a lot of things going on at the same time, so I took the liberty of writing this note to prepare you for what's next.
Okay. So here's the deal:
I'm actually you.
No, really. It might sound weird, but it's true. How many things do we have in common?
Too many for it to be coincidence.
Besides, I know I'm you. Because I've already done everything that you're about to.
Confusing? Yes. But also the truth.
It'll turn out okay. Some stuff might go wrong, but as long as you keep your eyes on the prize, it'll work out fine.
Here's what you need to do:
Go through this door. Talk to the general. I've put in a good word or two for you, so all you need to do is say, 'Hi, I'm Rose,' and she'll take everything from there. Do as she says. You'll need to. Even though she's evil.
Well, not really evil evil. She's just on the wrong side. But you still need to do as she says, up to a point. Which point is that, you ask? I don't know! I can't remember that part. But you'll know when to defy her.
Take the time travel machine she'll offer you. Trust me, it works hella better than the one you built, and it won't make you sick. Double-bonus, there.
This is the most important thing you'll need to do: become a soldier. Join their forces. Because even if they don't realize it yet, they're going to need you. They'd lose without you. And they're so stupid for not seeing it yet.
Don't get too worried, though. I'll be there here and there, when you really need me. Trust me, I know how it works. For now, just follow these orders like a good soldier, and it'll work out okay. Ish.
I've got to end it here. You're about to arrive, and you can't see me writing this note. It'd make it all screwy.
Good luck.
–Future Rose :)"
* * * * * * *
Rose sat back down on the orange, rocky, ground. She ran her hand through her short, sweaty hair. It was really, really, hot here. The Super was still arguing with The Blue Octo. It seemed they didn't notice her absence.
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a yellowed, crumpled piece of paper. It had been ripped many times, and patched back up with tape, so much it was difficult to make out what it said. But Rose didn't need to make out what it said. She knew those words by heart.
"Hi, it's me. That girl you just ran into..."
And so on.
Rose turned the paper over, where on the back, many notes were scribbled. These were much more recent, and slightly easier to read than the front side. Some in pencil, others in varying colors of pen, one or two in charcoal. These were obviously all written at different times, some in those of desperate peril, others on nights when the atmosphere was too dark to bear. Others were in times of emotional crisis. Basically, they were notes to a certain person when they were needed most.
The first one read, "This should work, I think. Probably. So I need your help, Rose. You know why. They're coming for me. And... I don't know what to do. Please come help me."
There was a set of coordinates at the end of this, which no one else needs no know. Rose doesn't need anyone else screwing with her timeline. She's got that part handled herself.
Rose sighed. She held up her left arm as if looking at a watch, and pulled her sleeve back. She lifted the screen protector off of the time hacker, and, slowly, carefully, punched in the coordinates.
And like that, she was gone with a zap.
* * * * * * * * * *
Rose woke to the familiar sound of faces being pounded. She opened her eyes wide, looking around the dark bunker. On the top bunk, she examined the other two bunks to the left. The others remained asleep. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Rose had always woken at the drop of a pin. At home, if the house creaked, she'd be awake in seconds, thinking there was a burglar in the house. Of course, there never was. When she had been really small, she used to walk into her parent's room, and crawl in bed with her mom.
Mom...
She shook herself. Definitely not the time to be wondering how her family was doing without her. She listened. Maybe she had imagined hearing such violent noises...
Nope. They were just coming from outside. Accompanied by some muffled shouts.
Immediately, she knew they were here for her. If there was anything she'd learned in the past six months, it was that she was illegal. Just existing in this universe, in this time, as she did, was against the laws of time. Yet she stayed. Where else was she supposed to go? Besides, she had her orders from her future self. She wasn't just about to disobey them.
But she also knew she couldn't take these adversaries on by herself. They had to be pretty tough to be messing up those guards outside. There was only one thing to do...
She silently crawled out of her bed, slipping across the room to her bag. Rummaging through it, she searched for the piece of paper she swore she would not lose. Her fingers closed around it; and it crinkled horribly loud. "Shhhh!" she whispered to it.
She scrambled for a pen, and hurried over to the only desk in the room. She turned it over to the blank side, and scrawled:
"This should work, I think. Probably. So I need your help, Rose. You know why. They're coming for me. And... I don't know what to do. Please come help me."
She did some calculations, wrote down what she hoped were the correct space-time coordinates. She folded the paper and put in her back pocket. She then took shelter underneath the desk -- slightly cowardly, but then again, it would be silly to wait for the Time Police to find her standing dumbly in the middle of the room. Of course, they weren't actually called the "Time Police," that would be silly, really. But she never stuck around long enough to learn their organization's name. Why the heck would she? They'd never even seen her face. And they weren't going to.
Rose waited nervously. Where was she? Rose couldn't delay very much longer before they showed up. She heard their footsteps in the hallway, getting closer, opening every single door they came across. Come on....
There was a flash of light, multicolored beams swarming together, glowing white. Rose had to shield her eyes, it was so bright. When it had faded, she opened her eyes again. She frantically examined her bunkmates, making sure they were still asleep. They were.
She turned her attention to where the flash of light had come from. Standing in front of her was the teenage girl she had met six months ago... Same short hair, same smug smile, even the same exact outfit that she had been wearing before.
There were some shouts coming from outside the door, and they both froze. They has seen the flash through the tiny crack beneath the door.
"No time," Rose whispered.
"I'll keep you safe," assured Future Rose. "Just... whatever you do, don't touch me."
"Why...? Do I get germophobic all of a sudden?" asked Regular Rose.
"No, it's just... See, we're both the same person, right? There's this law you'd have learned about in Chemistry if you stayed in school, I forget what it's called. Basically, it says that no two things with the exact atom makeup can exist in the same place at the same time. And we're both made up of the same atoms. If we don't touch, we're safe. But if you do touch me, kablooey! We both cease to exist. So you have to be really careful, okay? And I'll try not to kill any officers here. They made me who I am; if they die because of me, that's a paradox. And we can't have paradoxes. Deal?" Future Rose stuck out her hand, giving her a thumbs-up. Then the door blasted open.
"DUCK AND COVER!!" both Roses shouted at the same time. By now, everyone in the room was awake . Their sleepy brains lapped up the orders like a cat would milk; and they all hid under the bunks. They were safe, for now. As long as they didn't forget about them later.
"Well, well, well," said a deep voice. A silhouette came through the doorway, shrouded in a hat and trench coat. A typical comic book villain, ugh: Rose hated these guys already.
"What do you want?" she asked. She already knew the answer to that question; but sometimes it paid to stall.
"Ha ah ah ah!" laughed the man. "You know what I want. I want the illegal contraband. I want you. And both of you in the same place! How convenient!"
"Can I at least know who you are, first?" asked Regular Rose. Future Rose hung back, but never took her eyes off of this shady character.
"Very well," he said. He flipped the light switch, making everyone cringe at the sudden presence of so much light. He took off his hat, and then his coat, revealing his trim suit and carefully styled blond hair. He handed off his things to one of the men behind him. You'd think he'd be some kind of businessman; he looked to be about thirty. If you just looked at him, he seemed harmless.
But his eyes said something else. His eyes glinted harshly, without mercy. He was already guarding himself against them, even when he didn't know who they were yet. Or, worried Rose, maybe he did know who they were... That idea scared her even more, though she tried to not show it.
"Look," he said. "I don't want it to come down to me having to do anything drastic. So far, you've been doing okay. Let's be cooperative, shall we? Come with me, and everything will become clear."
"No way," said Regular Rose. She stared at the man. He seemed a little familiar, like she'd seen him somewhere, maybe in ads... But she couldn't put her finger on it.
"Whatever," said the man. "Like we weren't going to do this anyway. At least I can say I tried." He snapped his fingers, turned, and walked out of the room, leaving behind his goons. They proceeded to grab the Roses by the arms, and dragged them out of the room as well.
Regular Rose watched her bunkmates as she was forced down the corridor. She saw their confused and worried eyes peeking out from their hiding places... She hoped they wouldn't be punished for what she had done.
The door was pulled shut, closing her off from her only friends in this world. She was going to miss them...
"Wait!" shouted Future Rose. Caught off guard, the goons paused. Just long enough for Regular Rose to jump into action. She started by knocking them off their feet, and then proceeded to--
"STOP!" bellowed Future Rose. "Doesn't anybody here understand English? Do you not comprehend what the word 'wait' means?"
"But I thought you were--" started Regular Rose.
"No," interrupted Future Rose. "We can get out of this clean, with no other laws broken. So shut up for a second. Please."
Regular Rose shut up.
Future Rose looked at the weird businessman, whose expression only conveyed pleasant amusement. He smirked and said, "Nothing you say will get you freedom. But by all means, go ahead. I just love wasting time."
"There's another one of me," said Future Rose. "One that, I have to say, is unique all on her own. She is from a different universe, but she's not in the right place or time, either."
"Why would that make a difference?" asked the man, though obviously interested.
"Because she," said Future Rose, "has superpowers. Also, her being where she is in... about four years... will be illegal. And there's no way on Earth anyone's stopping her from getting where she'll be. Thought you might want to know. "
"What are you talking about? Do you think I'm stupid? Why would I believe you?"
"You heard of The Super?" asked Future Rose.
"N-no," replied the man, looking uncomfortable, as if being interrogated. Which, Regular Rose guessed, kind of was the case.
"Don't worry," said Future Rose. "You will." She turned to Regular Rose. "You, don't worry either. It probably looks like I got you into more trouble than you otherwise would have... But the truth is, it'll be okay. You'll get out of this mess. Trust me. I gotta split. See you on the flip side."
She turned back to the weird businessman. "As for you," she said, pointing menacingly at him, "I want you to think seriously about what I talked to you about today. Plus, you're not even that intimidating. A real officer of the space-time law would have already carted us off to headquarters. But not before removing a certain piece of equipment..." She held up her arm, revealing the space hacker.
"You idiots!" shouted the man at his henchmen. "Why didn't you confiscate her illegal time-travel device?! Oh, you are so fired!"
"Sorry, man," said one of them. "But we were just doing what you told us to do. If you're gonna fire us, we quit. It's been on our minds for a while, actually. You treat us like..." he looked at the younger Rose, who with her long hair and goofy glasses probably looked to be twelve. "Really badly," he finished. Regular Rose grew very irritated with the goon. She didn't need his pity-censoring.
"Yeah, what he said," the other one spoke up. "We're gonna leave now." They both took off their jackets and hats, dropped the items on the floor, and headed off in the direction they'd come from. "Bye."
"But... You CAN'T quit!!"
"Doesn't matter," said one of them, "you fired us anyway."
"Very professional." Future Rose made an okay sign with her fingers. "You're obviously in the top of your class. Well, as my favorite fictional character likes to say, allons-y!" She typed some numbers into her space hacker, and in a burst of white light, was gone.
Regular Rose brushed her hair out of her eyes. What now?
"Uh... Well then," said the evil businessman police officer guy. "You're coming with me."
Rose rubbed her nose. It always got itchy when she was in a super-intense situation. She hoped future her knew what she was talking about... otherwise, she was dead meat. The evil businessman grabbed her arm and dragged her down the corridor.
"You... are not... getting away... not this time!" he growled as she tried to get free. Eventually she gave up and just walked alongside him.
"Hey, I do have one question," she said.
"Ugh... what?"
"Why do you have to be so cliche? I mean, come on, you're seriously predictable."
"Well, if I'm so predictable, then how come you haven't escaped yet?" he said.
"Oh, no! It's not like I could've attached a mini holographic projector to your suit while I was struggling, and slipped away into a passing room! That's impossible!" Suddenly, the image began to flicker and fade. "Oh, wait... No, it isn't." And then the hologram shut down completely.
It revealed her, still trapped in his strong grip, as tight and constricting as ever. She sighed. She had hoped that would've tricked him. Well, then.
"What kind of idiotic stunt was that?" asked the man.
"I was hoping the mind-ception would work," replied Rose. "I really did attach a holographic projector to you. But there was no way of escaping. So, you know, I figured, confusion would be the best bet."
"Huh," said the man. He kept walking, forcing Rose to do the same. She sighed... Guess all she could do was use brute force. Wasn't her favorite, but... She stopped walking, stood her ground, and in one move flipped the man over her head and face-first into the ground.
"HA!" she gloated, and then ran. Oh, man, did she love the running part.
Yup. Just another day in the life of a time-traveling rebel doppelganger teenager out to find a superhero.
Holy cow, that was long. This took multiple days to write. Sorry about the delay. My little sister has pneumonia. Sue me.
I've been working on some sketches of characters. I'll finalize them and probably have them up sometime during Christmas Break. It'll be cool.
I'm excited to be writing again. It feels like months. But it's really only been a week and a couple days.
Thanks so much for reading! See you in the next chapter...
~PolarFarina
FYI: I updated some stuff on this post. Because I'm an idiot, and I realized that I had some major errors with consistency. So I fixed those issues for you guys. Also added some stuff to make it more sensible, and just little extra bits in general. This post was so outrageously comical I just had to fix some things. You're welcome.
Rose looked around the room, dumping the heavy backpack on the floor. She has here now; and at any rate, the time traveling device was fried. It only lasted for one jump, as planned.
The room was very purple. So purple, in fact, she wondered what this room was even for. So much purple could serve no practical purpose as far as she knew. There was a door, also purple, on the far end of the room, carved into the wall. It seemed that this room didn't have a door to begin with... and someone had added it in later. There was a crisp white sheet of paper taped to the door, which stood out. It was the only thing besides her in the room that wasn't purple.
She walked over to it, and read what had been handwritten in purple ink on the white sheet of paper:
"Hi, it's me. That girl you just ran into. I just disappeared, most likely. For you, it'll just have happened. But for me, it hasn't happened yet.
There's some stuff you need to know before you move on. There's going to be a lot of things going on at the same time, so I took the liberty of writing this note to prepare you for what's next.
Okay. So here's the deal:
I'm actually you.
No, really. It might sound weird, but it's true. How many things do we have in common?
Too many for it to be coincidence.
Besides, I know I'm you. Because I've already done everything that you're about to.
Confusing? Yes. But also the truth.
It'll turn out okay. Some stuff might go wrong, but as long as you keep your eyes on the prize, it'll work out fine.
Here's what you need to do:
Go through this door. Talk to the general. I've put in a good word or two for you, so all you need to do is say, 'Hi, I'm Rose,' and she'll take everything from there. Do as she says. You'll need to. Even though she's evil.
Well, not really evil evil. She's just on the wrong side. But you still need to do as she says, up to a point. Which point is that, you ask? I don't know! I can't remember that part. But you'll know when to defy her.
Take the time travel machine she'll offer you. Trust me, it works hella better than the one you built, and it won't make you sick. Double-bonus, there.
This is the most important thing you'll need to do: become a soldier. Join their forces. Because even if they don't realize it yet, they're going to need you. They'd lose without you. And they're so stupid for not seeing it yet.
Don't get too worried, though. I'll be there here and there, when you really need me. Trust me, I know how it works. For now, just follow these orders like a good soldier, and it'll work out okay. Ish.
I've got to end it here. You're about to arrive, and you can't see me writing this note. It'd make it all screwy.
Good luck.
–Future Rose :)"
* * * * * * *
Rose sat back down on the orange, rocky, ground. She ran her hand through her short, sweaty hair. It was really, really, hot here. The Super was still arguing with The Blue Octo. It seemed they didn't notice her absence.
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a yellowed, crumpled piece of paper. It had been ripped many times, and patched back up with tape, so much it was difficult to make out what it said. But Rose didn't need to make out what it said. She knew those words by heart.
"Hi, it's me. That girl you just ran into..."
And so on.
Rose turned the paper over, where on the back, many notes were scribbled. These were much more recent, and slightly easier to read than the front side. Some in pencil, others in varying colors of pen, one or two in charcoal. These were obviously all written at different times, some in those of desperate peril, others on nights when the atmosphere was too dark to bear. Others were in times of emotional crisis. Basically, they were notes to a certain person when they were needed most.
The first one read, "This should work, I think. Probably. So I need your help, Rose. You know why. They're coming for me. And... I don't know what to do. Please come help me."
There was a set of coordinates at the end of this, which no one else needs no know. Rose doesn't need anyone else screwing with her timeline. She's got that part handled herself.
Rose sighed. She held up her left arm as if looking at a watch, and pulled her sleeve back. She lifted the screen protector off of the time hacker, and, slowly, carefully, punched in the coordinates.
And like that, she was gone with a zap.
* * * * * * * * * *
Rose woke to the familiar sound of faces being pounded. She opened her eyes wide, looking around the dark bunker. On the top bunk, she examined the other two bunks to the left. The others remained asleep. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Rose had always woken at the drop of a pin. At home, if the house creaked, she'd be awake in seconds, thinking there was a burglar in the house. Of course, there never was. When she had been really small, she used to walk into her parent's room, and crawl in bed with her mom.
Mom...
She shook herself. Definitely not the time to be wondering how her family was doing without her. She listened. Maybe she had imagined hearing such violent noises...
Nope. They were just coming from outside. Accompanied by some muffled shouts.
Immediately, she knew they were here for her. If there was anything she'd learned in the past six months, it was that she was illegal. Just existing in this universe, in this time, as she did, was against the laws of time. Yet she stayed. Where else was she supposed to go? Besides, she had her orders from her future self. She wasn't just about to disobey them.
But she also knew she couldn't take these adversaries on by herself. They had to be pretty tough to be messing up those guards outside. There was only one thing to do...
She silently crawled out of her bed, slipping across the room to her bag. Rummaging through it, she searched for the piece of paper she swore she would not lose. Her fingers closed around it; and it crinkled horribly loud. "Shhhh!" she whispered to it.
She scrambled for a pen, and hurried over to the only desk in the room. She turned it over to the blank side, and scrawled:
"This should work, I think. Probably. So I need your help, Rose. You know why. They're coming for me. And... I don't know what to do. Please come help me."
She did some calculations, wrote down what she hoped were the correct space-time coordinates. She folded the paper and put in her back pocket. She then took shelter underneath the desk -- slightly cowardly, but then again, it would be silly to wait for the Time Police to find her standing dumbly in the middle of the room. Of course, they weren't actually called the "Time Police," that would be silly, really. But she never stuck around long enough to learn their organization's name. Why the heck would she? They'd never even seen her face. And they weren't going to.
Rose waited nervously. Where was she? Rose couldn't delay very much longer before they showed up. She heard their footsteps in the hallway, getting closer, opening every single door they came across. Come on....
There was a flash of light, multicolored beams swarming together, glowing white. Rose had to shield her eyes, it was so bright. When it had faded, she opened her eyes again. She frantically examined her bunkmates, making sure they were still asleep. They were.
She turned her attention to where the flash of light had come from. Standing in front of her was the teenage girl she had met six months ago... Same short hair, same smug smile, even the same exact outfit that she had been wearing before.
There were some shouts coming from outside the door, and they both froze. They has seen the flash through the tiny crack beneath the door.
"No time," Rose whispered.
"I'll keep you safe," assured Future Rose. "Just... whatever you do, don't touch me."
"Why...? Do I get germophobic all of a sudden?" asked Regular Rose.
"No, it's just... See, we're both the same person, right? There's this law you'd have learned about in Chemistry if you stayed in school, I forget what it's called. Basically, it says that no two things with the exact atom makeup can exist in the same place at the same time. And we're both made up of the same atoms. If we don't touch, we're safe. But if you do touch me, kablooey! We both cease to exist. So you have to be really careful, okay? And I'll try not to kill any officers here. They made me who I am; if they die because of me, that's a paradox. And we can't have paradoxes. Deal?" Future Rose stuck out her hand, giving her a thumbs-up. Then the door blasted open.
"DUCK AND COVER!!" both Roses shouted at the same time. By now, everyone in the room was awake . Their sleepy brains lapped up the orders like a cat would milk; and they all hid under the bunks. They were safe, for now. As long as they didn't forget about them later.
"Well, well, well," said a deep voice. A silhouette came through the doorway, shrouded in a hat and trench coat. A typical comic book villain, ugh: Rose hated these guys already.
"What do you want?" she asked. She already knew the answer to that question; but sometimes it paid to stall.
"Ha ah ah ah!" laughed the man. "You know what I want. I want the illegal contraband. I want you. And both of you in the same place! How convenient!"
"Can I at least know who you are, first?" asked Regular Rose. Future Rose hung back, but never took her eyes off of this shady character.
"Very well," he said. He flipped the light switch, making everyone cringe at the sudden presence of so much light. He took off his hat, and then his coat, revealing his trim suit and carefully styled blond hair. He handed off his things to one of the men behind him. You'd think he'd be some kind of businessman; he looked to be about thirty. If you just looked at him, he seemed harmless.
But his eyes said something else. His eyes glinted harshly, without mercy. He was already guarding himself against them, even when he didn't know who they were yet. Or, worried Rose, maybe he did know who they were... That idea scared her even more, though she tried to not show it.
"Look," he said. "I don't want it to come down to me having to do anything drastic. So far, you've been doing okay. Let's be cooperative, shall we? Come with me, and everything will become clear."
"No way," said Regular Rose. She stared at the man. He seemed a little familiar, like she'd seen him somewhere, maybe in ads... But she couldn't put her finger on it.
"Whatever," said the man. "Like we weren't going to do this anyway. At least I can say I tried." He snapped his fingers, turned, and walked out of the room, leaving behind his goons. They proceeded to grab the Roses by the arms, and dragged them out of the room as well.
Regular Rose watched her bunkmates as she was forced down the corridor. She saw their confused and worried eyes peeking out from their hiding places... She hoped they wouldn't be punished for what she had done.
The door was pulled shut, closing her off from her only friends in this world. She was going to miss them...
"Wait!" shouted Future Rose. Caught off guard, the goons paused. Just long enough for Regular Rose to jump into action. She started by knocking them off their feet, and then proceeded to--
"STOP!" bellowed Future Rose. "Doesn't anybody here understand English? Do you not comprehend what the word 'wait' means?"
"But I thought you were--" started Regular Rose.
"No," interrupted Future Rose. "We can get out of this clean, with no other laws broken. So shut up for a second. Please."
Regular Rose shut up.
Future Rose looked at the weird businessman, whose expression only conveyed pleasant amusement. He smirked and said, "Nothing you say will get you freedom. But by all means, go ahead. I just love wasting time."
"There's another one of me," said Future Rose. "One that, I have to say, is unique all on her own. She is from a different universe, but she's not in the right place or time, either."
"Why would that make a difference?" asked the man, though obviously interested.
"Because she," said Future Rose, "has superpowers. Also, her being where she is in... about four years... will be illegal. And there's no way on Earth anyone's stopping her from getting where she'll be. Thought you might want to know. "
"What are you talking about? Do you think I'm stupid? Why would I believe you?"
"You heard of The Super?" asked Future Rose.
"N-no," replied the man, looking uncomfortable, as if being interrogated. Which, Regular Rose guessed, kind of was the case.
"Don't worry," said Future Rose. "You will." She turned to Regular Rose. "You, don't worry either. It probably looks like I got you into more trouble than you otherwise would have... But the truth is, it'll be okay. You'll get out of this mess. Trust me. I gotta split. See you on the flip side."
She turned back to the weird businessman. "As for you," she said, pointing menacingly at him, "I want you to think seriously about what I talked to you about today. Plus, you're not even that intimidating. A real officer of the space-time law would have already carted us off to headquarters. But not before removing a certain piece of equipment..." She held up her arm, revealing the space hacker.
"You idiots!" shouted the man at his henchmen. "Why didn't you confiscate her illegal time-travel device?! Oh, you are so fired!"
"Sorry, man," said one of them. "But we were just doing what you told us to do. If you're gonna fire us, we quit. It's been on our minds for a while, actually. You treat us like..." he looked at the younger Rose, who with her long hair and goofy glasses probably looked to be twelve. "Really badly," he finished. Regular Rose grew very irritated with the goon. She didn't need his pity-censoring.
"Yeah, what he said," the other one spoke up. "We're gonna leave now." They both took off their jackets and hats, dropped the items on the floor, and headed off in the direction they'd come from. "Bye."
"But... You CAN'T quit!!"
"Doesn't matter," said one of them, "you fired us anyway."
"Very professional." Future Rose made an okay sign with her fingers. "You're obviously in the top of your class. Well, as my favorite fictional character likes to say, allons-y!" She typed some numbers into her space hacker, and in a burst of white light, was gone.
Regular Rose brushed her hair out of her eyes. What now?
"Uh... Well then," said the evil businessman police officer guy. "You're coming with me."
Rose rubbed her nose. It always got itchy when she was in a super-intense situation. She hoped future her knew what she was talking about... otherwise, she was dead meat. The evil businessman grabbed her arm and dragged her down the corridor.
"You... are not... getting away... not this time!" he growled as she tried to get free. Eventually she gave up and just walked alongside him.
"Hey, I do have one question," she said.
"Ugh... what?"
"Why do you have to be so cliche? I mean, come on, you're seriously predictable."
"Well, if I'm so predictable, then how come you haven't escaped yet?" he said.
"Oh, no! It's not like I could've attached a mini holographic projector to your suit while I was struggling, and slipped away into a passing room! That's impossible!" Suddenly, the image began to flicker and fade. "Oh, wait... No, it isn't." And then the hologram shut down completely.
It revealed her, still trapped in his strong grip, as tight and constricting as ever. She sighed. She had hoped that would've tricked him. Well, then.
"What kind of idiotic stunt was that?" asked the man.
"I was hoping the mind-ception would work," replied Rose. "I really did attach a holographic projector to you. But there was no way of escaping. So, you know, I figured, confusion would be the best bet."
"Huh," said the man. He kept walking, forcing Rose to do the same. She sighed... Guess all she could do was use brute force. Wasn't her favorite, but... She stopped walking, stood her ground, and in one move flipped the man over her head and face-first into the ground.
"HA!" she gloated, and then ran. Oh, man, did she love the running part.
Yup. Just another day in the life of a time-traveling rebel doppelganger teenager out to find a superhero.
Holy cow, that was long. This took multiple days to write. Sorry about the delay. My little sister has pneumonia. Sue me.
I've been working on some sketches of characters. I'll finalize them and probably have them up sometime during Christmas Break. It'll be cool.
I'm excited to be writing again. It feels like months. But it's really only been a week and a couple days.
Thanks so much for reading! See you in the next chapter...
~PolarFarina
FYI: I updated some stuff on this post. Because I'm an idiot, and I realized that I had some major errors with consistency. So I fixed those issues for you guys. Also added some stuff to make it more sensible, and just little extra bits in general. This post was so outrageously comical I just had to fix some things. You're welcome.
Saturday, November 29, 2014
A Day in the Life of a Tomboy
Wake up;
When will the sun rise?
Eat a bowl of Cheerios dry
Run outside barefoot
To the neighbor's
Spend the morning
Running
Shouting
Here comes Iron Giant;
There goes Little Bunny Foo-Foo;
Come along, my pack of wolves;
When is lunch, again?
Bare feet slap against concrete
Here we go, racing once more
Who will win this time?
The sun high in the sky,
Too hot even for us
Time to head inside.
Hand-crank the snow-cone machine
Mix all the flavors together
The taste of being crazy.
Still scorching out there...
Up on the second floor
It becomes a palace;
Red cape flashes
She is the hero.
The evil villain captured her friend
And sister.
Time to act
But she gets bored too quickly
So she transforms into a dragon
Much stronger, much more interesting
She breathes fire, tries to burn the enemy
But two can play at that game.
And he becomes one himself;
The roars echo throughout the kingdom
As the damsels sit bored, reading books,
Talking about the new Wii.
Late afternoon;
Break out the water guns.
Soon everyone's soaked,
And they head back inside
To make more snow-cones.
The phone rings, breaking the silence
Interrupting the clink of spoons
Time for her and her sister
To head home.
Dinner is eaten,
A movie watched
And then, the sun not even close to setting,
Crashing in bed
Waiting for sleep that will not come.
Sneak a notebook and pencil
Sketch a new comic idea
No one knows how much she loves drawing;
Her late-night secret.
The light fades
Through the window she sees the stars.
Music long over
Eyelids long since droopy
She relaxes, finally
Closing her eyes
Falling into oblivion
Waiting for the next day of excitement to come.
If only summer lasted forever...
Yes, I know it's not summer. And none of this is recent in the least; That "New Wii" is currently nearing seven years old. Ah, to be nine again...
Point being: I recently read some stuff that really made these memories resurface; some article about what toys kids grew up playing with and how teaching little girls that they can be the hero, too, is so important. It made me think about how many times I've played the role of the knight, how many times I've spent the whole day out of my own house because I was so engulfed in my world that I would forget to do things, like, eating, and I was pretty underweight because of that. Of course, I didn't care. It wasn't because I was trying to fit anyone's standards. I just forgot there was such a thing as lunch. And sometimes I'd skip breakfast, too, I was so engulfed in creating my own imaginary worlds.
Just keep in mind this: You are the hero. YOU can do anything. And I'm not just messing with you; you can literally make anything happen, as long as you're determined enough. And you have the capacity for that determination. I'm glad you're here. Because you represent everything that will happen, everything that can happen. You represent the infinity of possibilities that make up the future; just by being here. You've opened up my eyes to so much. And I know you'll open my eyes to even more.
Thank you. For everything.
~PolarFarina
I wrote this as a tribute to the simple days. I wonder how much the people I spent that time with remember.
(Maybe I did borrow that speech from Markiplier... maybe I did... But it was a touching speech... I thought it fit here just as well, anyway.)
When will the sun rise?
Eat a bowl of Cheerios dry
Run outside barefoot
To the neighbor's
Spend the morning
Running
Shouting
Here comes Iron Giant;
There goes Little Bunny Foo-Foo;
Come along, my pack of wolves;
When is lunch, again?
Bare feet slap against concrete
Here we go, racing once more
Who will win this time?
The sun high in the sky,
Too hot even for us
Time to head inside.
Hand-crank the snow-cone machine
Mix all the flavors together
The taste of being crazy.
Still scorching out there...
Up on the second floor
It becomes a palace;
Red cape flashes
She is the hero.
The evil villain captured her friend
And sister.
Time to act
But she gets bored too quickly
So she transforms into a dragon
Much stronger, much more interesting
She breathes fire, tries to burn the enemy
But two can play at that game.
And he becomes one himself;
The roars echo throughout the kingdom
As the damsels sit bored, reading books,
Talking about the new Wii.
Late afternoon;
Break out the water guns.
Soon everyone's soaked,
And they head back inside
To make more snow-cones.
The phone rings, breaking the silence
Interrupting the clink of spoons
Time for her and her sister
To head home.
Dinner is eaten,
A movie watched
And then, the sun not even close to setting,
Crashing in bed
Waiting for sleep that will not come.
Sneak a notebook and pencil
Sketch a new comic idea
No one knows how much she loves drawing;
Her late-night secret.
The light fades
Through the window she sees the stars.
Music long over
Eyelids long since droopy
She relaxes, finally
Closing her eyes
Falling into oblivion
Waiting for the next day of excitement to come.
If only summer lasted forever...
Yes, I know it's not summer. And none of this is recent in the least; That "New Wii" is currently nearing seven years old. Ah, to be nine again...
Point being: I recently read some stuff that really made these memories resurface; some article about what toys kids grew up playing with and how teaching little girls that they can be the hero, too, is so important. It made me think about how many times I've played the role of the knight, how many times I've spent the whole day out of my own house because I was so engulfed in my world that I would forget to do things, like, eating, and I was pretty underweight because of that. Of course, I didn't care. It wasn't because I was trying to fit anyone's standards. I just forgot there was such a thing as lunch. And sometimes I'd skip breakfast, too, I was so engulfed in creating my own imaginary worlds.
Just keep in mind this: You are the hero. YOU can do anything. And I'm not just messing with you; you can literally make anything happen, as long as you're determined enough. And you have the capacity for that determination. I'm glad you're here. Because you represent everything that will happen, everything that can happen. You represent the infinity of possibilities that make up the future; just by being here. You've opened up my eyes to so much. And I know you'll open my eyes to even more.
Thank you. For everything.
~PolarFarina
I wrote this as a tribute to the simple days. I wonder how much the people I spent that time with remember.
(Maybe I did borrow that speech from Markiplier... maybe I did... But it was a touching speech... I thought it fit here just as well, anyway.)
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Chapter Seventeen: Rose
She got out her keys to unlock the front door. Just a normal day; a normal girl talking to normal friends, going to normal classes. Riding a normal bus home, coming home to a normal house.
But today is anything but normal for the girl. Hardly anyone in her daily life even knows what today is, because she never told anyone. Just never crossed her mind.
She got in the door, dropped her stuff on the floor, and went upstairs. When she got into her room, she stepped out of her shoes, climbing over her bed to get to her window, which she promptly opened. She removed the screen, and crawled out onto the roof.
She relaxed a while, just sitting there, listening to the rustling of the trees. There was one in front of every house in the neighborhood; once too small to climb, now the branches too high to reach. She took in a deep breath: the smell of last night's rain, the dirt that was just sort of everywhere, and the moss growing on the very roof she was sitting on. Running her hand through her hair, she listened to the sound of birds, of school buses and small kids running through their own yards.
She liked moments like this: moments where time seems to stop, even though it's clear it still passes. The feeling of knowing there's nowhere to be tomorrow, nothing to be done tonight. No promises made, nothing demanding attention. It's a time when you can just pretend your life doesn't exist, just for a few moments. And how relaxing those moments are.
She sighed and stood up. How she wished she had a sibling. Maybe things would be different. Wishful thinking aside, it was time to get moving. How sad this would be... for everyone.
She climbed back inside, onto her bed. It had seemed like a good idea to put it next to the window at the time, but now it was obviously cumbersome. She replaced the screen, closed the window, and set to work.
Hours later, she had the supplies she needed ready. She had to go. It wasn't easy, leaving, but she had no choice. She'd been called. And her parents, she knew, wouldn't allow that. And they especially wouldn't allow what she knew she'd eventually become. She'd have to go a certain way.
She had braided her longish brown hair into the two simple braids she liked so much, to keep them out of her face while she packed. The device had fit so nicely into her backpack, and it was then she devised a plan. She tied her shoes back onto her feet, slipped the now extremely heavy backpack onto her shoulders, and went back downstairs. By now her mother was home, and she stopped to talk to her.
"Hey, Mom, is it okay if I go to Munchkin's house? We wanna work on that comic some more," she said.
"Sure," said her mother. "I'll call you when dinner's ready. Which should be... Six thirty. Ish."
"Cool," she said, and shoved a warm hat over her ears. She grabbed a coat, too -- didn't know what the weather would be like. She walked outside, stiffly, strangely, as if her legs were warning her this was a bad idea. She told herself that this was for the best, that if she didn't die here, then her parents would go searching for her, which would be even worse. Of course, either way, she wouldn't actually be dead. Probably. But she wanted everyone else to think that she was. Because after she did what she was going to do, she might as well be.
She walked right out into the street, where there was a car conveniently driving down the road. She waited for it to get closer, then screamed loudly, dramatically, to get her mother's attention. In two seconds, her mother was out on the porch, looking to where the scream had come from. Her mother saw the imminent collision, and shouted, "CASSIE!"
She glanced up at her mother for a moment, then turned back to watch the car, waiting, waiting...
Just before impact she pressed the button.
For a fraction of a second, it felt like she was turning inside out. Her stomach churned, her head ached like her brain was trying to escape, and the pressure in her ears skyrocketed. She would've screamed in agony, but the moment she opened her mouth it stopped, and she collapsed on the ground, ears ringing, head spinning, trying not to lose her lunch.
"Hey," said a familiar voice, though not her mother. No, this was a voice she felt she heard more often than even her mother's voice. But who could she know better than that? "When you come 'round, please tell me, 'cause I have a schedule to keep. Not even supposed to be this far back." The voice, belonging to a teenage girl, mumbled the last bit.
"Whuhh?" Everything was a blur. She couldn't think.
"Man, I know that my first trip was bad, but I don't remember it being this bad. If this takes any longer, I'm going. Supes is going to wonder where I am."
She shook herself awake, and jolted into an upright sitting position. She was ready for her mission. Sort of. She was still bleary-eyed, but she could deal. "Where um I?" she blubbered.
"Ah! Finally!" said the teen. "You've done great work so far. Couldn't have done better, myself. Now, you know why you're here?"
She nodded.
"You know this is dangerous? You know that it's not guaranteed to work? Do you recognize the importance of this mission?"
She nodded again, her vision clearing up. She was sitting dumbly on the floor of an empty concrete room, the walls painted purple for some reason. "Why am I in this room?"
"Don't ask me that!" the teen replied. "It's your machine! You appeared in this room, like you were supposed to. Do you know that this mission will be long? That it may take years to complete?"
"Yeah," she said. She was looking at a teen of an age she was uncertain; she could have been anywhere from eighteen to twenty-five. Her extremely short brown hair reminded her of the color of her own. And this teen had brown eyes so deep they were almost black, just like she did. And the freckles? Coincidentally, they both had those, too. This teen had an all-knowing twinkle in her eye, and a friendly smirk -- if smirks could be friendly. She looked really strong and stood sturdily, like a rock in place. She wouldn't to mess with this girl over anything.
"What's your name?" asked the teen. She watched the girl like she already knew the answer, and just wanted to see what she said.
"Ca-" the girl started, then stopped. Cassie was dead, gone with the car accident. She was a new person, and she needed a new name to match that. She stood there for a moment, trying to think up a new one.
The teen almost laughed. "Take your time. If it's a challenge or something, let me know."
"No, it's just... Rose. My name's Rose," said the girl.
The teen grinned. "Great name, Rose. I happen to like it a lot, myself. Nice to meet you." She stuck out a hand, a gesture Rose always dreaded. She didn't really know why; it just wasn't something she did often, and she supposed she was scared of getting it wrong. But she shook anyway. The teen took it gracefully, warmly, and without criticism.
"So," said the teen, "you ready to save the world? 'Cause I'm ready!"
"Sure, I guess," said Rose. Which was a lot of enthusiasm. She wasn't very outwardly emotive.
"Don't worry, you'll get more confident. And I know that if you just keep trekking on, even if you don't believe in yourself, you'll make it. Just keep going. Here are the coordinates." She handed Rose a piece of paper, punctuating her strange psychic comment with something real and explainable.
"Okay," said Rose. "Wait, how do you know all this? Who are you?"
"That," said the teen, "is something that you will find out on your own, young padiwan. Oh, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to use that kind of reference! Nobody around here knows about anything cool; it's so boring. But I know you can deal. Point being: I have to go now. I've been here too long already."
"What?!" Rose shouted. "You're just gonna leave me here?"
"That's what my mentor did," said the teen. "So I'mma do it, too. If I didn't everything would go all screwy, anyway."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Spoilers," said the teen. "Yes! Another one! Woo! Feels so good!"
"Another what?" asked Rose.
"Reference! Didn't you get the -- with the spoilers -- and the -- Oh, whatever. Oh, by the way: that clever code of yours, using middle names and all that? I think you better start changing that. Keep Rose; I like it a lot. But, man, you better keep a low profile, and if you have to use passwords or anything, make up new ones. Be safe. Do what the nice fisherman says. And bring that guitar home by 10:47 or all heck's gonna break loose."
"Wha--"
"It will all make sense one day. Trust me on this. Now, I gotta go for real. Live Long and Prosper." She keyed in some numbers on the band she was wearing around her wrist. "Man," the teen said. "I'll miss talking to you. I wish--"
And then she was gone, leaving Rose standing in an empty purple room.
Hey!! So the 19th was my birthday-- happy birthday to me! :) :)
Seriously, though, how do you like this background? Doesn't really fit into where the story is right now, but it kind of does at the same time... Hey, I get to do what I want on my birthday.
It's been a while since I've written an update, and to be honest, there's not much to say. I've been inconsistent with my writing. I feel like I keep repeating myself in these "Updates" so that's why I stopped writing them, really.
Also I got another sinus infection, but you don't want to hear about that. I'm almost completely better now, anyway. Hence the writing.
That's really all for now. See you in the next post.
~PolarFarina
(References were to Star Wars, Doctor Who [Twice, if you catch it], and Star Trek. They don't belong to me. So there.)
But today is anything but normal for the girl. Hardly anyone in her daily life even knows what today is, because she never told anyone. Just never crossed her mind.
She got in the door, dropped her stuff on the floor, and went upstairs. When she got into her room, she stepped out of her shoes, climbing over her bed to get to her window, which she promptly opened. She removed the screen, and crawled out onto the roof.
She relaxed a while, just sitting there, listening to the rustling of the trees. There was one in front of every house in the neighborhood; once too small to climb, now the branches too high to reach. She took in a deep breath: the smell of last night's rain, the dirt that was just sort of everywhere, and the moss growing on the very roof she was sitting on. Running her hand through her hair, she listened to the sound of birds, of school buses and small kids running through their own yards.
She liked moments like this: moments where time seems to stop, even though it's clear it still passes. The feeling of knowing there's nowhere to be tomorrow, nothing to be done tonight. No promises made, nothing demanding attention. It's a time when you can just pretend your life doesn't exist, just for a few moments. And how relaxing those moments are.
She sighed and stood up. How she wished she had a sibling. Maybe things would be different. Wishful thinking aside, it was time to get moving. How sad this would be... for everyone.
She climbed back inside, onto her bed. It had seemed like a good idea to put it next to the window at the time, but now it was obviously cumbersome. She replaced the screen, closed the window, and set to work.
Hours later, she had the supplies she needed ready. She had to go. It wasn't easy, leaving, but she had no choice. She'd been called. And her parents, she knew, wouldn't allow that. And they especially wouldn't allow what she knew she'd eventually become. She'd have to go a certain way.
She had braided her longish brown hair into the two simple braids she liked so much, to keep them out of her face while she packed. The device had fit so nicely into her backpack, and it was then she devised a plan. She tied her shoes back onto her feet, slipped the now extremely heavy backpack onto her shoulders, and went back downstairs. By now her mother was home, and she stopped to talk to her.
"Hey, Mom, is it okay if I go to Munchkin's house? We wanna work on that comic some more," she said.
"Sure," said her mother. "I'll call you when dinner's ready. Which should be... Six thirty. Ish."
"Cool," she said, and shoved a warm hat over her ears. She grabbed a coat, too -- didn't know what the weather would be like. She walked outside, stiffly, strangely, as if her legs were warning her this was a bad idea. She told herself that this was for the best, that if she didn't die here, then her parents would go searching for her, which would be even worse. Of course, either way, she wouldn't actually be dead. Probably. But she wanted everyone else to think that she was. Because after she did what she was going to do, she might as well be.
She walked right out into the street, where there was a car conveniently driving down the road. She waited for it to get closer, then screamed loudly, dramatically, to get her mother's attention. In two seconds, her mother was out on the porch, looking to where the scream had come from. Her mother saw the imminent collision, and shouted, "CASSIE!"
She glanced up at her mother for a moment, then turned back to watch the car, waiting, waiting...
Just before impact she pressed the button.
For a fraction of a second, it felt like she was turning inside out. Her stomach churned, her head ached like her brain was trying to escape, and the pressure in her ears skyrocketed. She would've screamed in agony, but the moment she opened her mouth it stopped, and she collapsed on the ground, ears ringing, head spinning, trying not to lose her lunch.
"Hey," said a familiar voice, though not her mother. No, this was a voice she felt she heard more often than even her mother's voice. But who could she know better than that? "When you come 'round, please tell me, 'cause I have a schedule to keep. Not even supposed to be this far back." The voice, belonging to a teenage girl, mumbled the last bit.
"Whuhh?" Everything was a blur. She couldn't think.
"Man, I know that my first trip was bad, but I don't remember it being this bad. If this takes any longer, I'm going. Supes is going to wonder where I am."
She shook herself awake, and jolted into an upright sitting position. She was ready for her mission. Sort of. She was still bleary-eyed, but she could deal. "Where um I?" she blubbered.
"Ah! Finally!" said the teen. "You've done great work so far. Couldn't have done better, myself. Now, you know why you're here?"
She nodded.
"You know this is dangerous? You know that it's not guaranteed to work? Do you recognize the importance of this mission?"
She nodded again, her vision clearing up. She was sitting dumbly on the floor of an empty concrete room, the walls painted purple for some reason. "Why am I in this room?"
"Don't ask me that!" the teen replied. "It's your machine! You appeared in this room, like you were supposed to. Do you know that this mission will be long? That it may take years to complete?"
"Yeah," she said. She was looking at a teen of an age she was uncertain; she could have been anywhere from eighteen to twenty-five. Her extremely short brown hair reminded her of the color of her own. And this teen had brown eyes so deep they were almost black, just like she did. And the freckles? Coincidentally, they both had those, too. This teen had an all-knowing twinkle in her eye, and a friendly smirk -- if smirks could be friendly. She looked really strong and stood sturdily, like a rock in place. She wouldn't to mess with this girl over anything.
"What's your name?" asked the teen. She watched the girl like she already knew the answer, and just wanted to see what she said.
"Ca-" the girl started, then stopped. Cassie was dead, gone with the car accident. She was a new person, and she needed a new name to match that. She stood there for a moment, trying to think up a new one.
The teen almost laughed. "Take your time. If it's a challenge or something, let me know."
"No, it's just... Rose. My name's Rose," said the girl.
The teen grinned. "Great name, Rose. I happen to like it a lot, myself. Nice to meet you." She stuck out a hand, a gesture Rose always dreaded. She didn't really know why; it just wasn't something she did often, and she supposed she was scared of getting it wrong. But she shook anyway. The teen took it gracefully, warmly, and without criticism.
"So," said the teen, "you ready to save the world? 'Cause I'm ready!"
"Sure, I guess," said Rose. Which was a lot of enthusiasm. She wasn't very outwardly emotive.
"Don't worry, you'll get more confident. And I know that if you just keep trekking on, even if you don't believe in yourself, you'll make it. Just keep going. Here are the coordinates." She handed Rose a piece of paper, punctuating her strange psychic comment with something real and explainable.
"Okay," said Rose. "Wait, how do you know all this? Who are you?"
"That," said the teen, "is something that you will find out on your own, young padiwan. Oh, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to use that kind of reference! Nobody around here knows about anything cool; it's so boring. But I know you can deal. Point being: I have to go now. I've been here too long already."
"What?!" Rose shouted. "You're just gonna leave me here?"
"That's what my mentor did," said the teen. "So I'mma do it, too. If I didn't everything would go all screwy, anyway."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Spoilers," said the teen. "Yes! Another one! Woo! Feels so good!"
"Another what?" asked Rose.
"Reference! Didn't you get the -- with the spoilers -- and the -- Oh, whatever. Oh, by the way: that clever code of yours, using middle names and all that? I think you better start changing that. Keep Rose; I like it a lot. But, man, you better keep a low profile, and if you have to use passwords or anything, make up new ones. Be safe. Do what the nice fisherman says. And bring that guitar home by 10:47 or all heck's gonna break loose."
"Wha--"
"It will all make sense one day. Trust me on this. Now, I gotta go for real. Live Long and Prosper." She keyed in some numbers on the band she was wearing around her wrist. "Man," the teen said. "I'll miss talking to you. I wish--"
And then she was gone, leaving Rose standing in an empty purple room.
Hey!! So the 19th was my birthday-- happy birthday to me! :) :)
Seriously, though, how do you like this background? Doesn't really fit into where the story is right now, but it kind of does at the same time... Hey, I get to do what I want on my birthday.
It's been a while since I've written an update, and to be honest, there's not much to say. I've been inconsistent with my writing. I feel like I keep repeating myself in these "Updates" so that's why I stopped writing them, really.
Also I got another sinus infection, but you don't want to hear about that. I'm almost completely better now, anyway. Hence the writing.
That's really all for now. See you in the next post.
~PolarFarina
(References were to Star Wars, Doctor Who [Twice, if you catch it], and Star Trek. They don't belong to me. So there.)
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Eating Cheerios is a Big Deal (Don't Look At Me, I Didn't Make It That Way) Also, One Of My Classmates Might Be An Alien
You know, sometimes it seems that other people are just weird. Like, so weird that you end up wondering if they're actual people, and if they are, how they made it this far in life without it occurring to you earlier that there's something funky about them.
Take the other day in my history class. It's the first class of the day (Sometimes, it depends on what day it is) and a lot of times I don't have enough time to eat breakfast before heading to school, so I grab something quick to munch on in class. This particular day I had brought with me a plastic bag full of Cheerios. I waited to start eating them until about twenty minutes into class, when we began watching a movie about Andrew Carnegie (A whole 2 and a half hours -- three days of just watching a movie! Score!), because I have a weird thing where I concentrate better when I'm eating, especially if I'm watching a movie. I'd been munching on my Cheerios for about ten minutes when the girl across the aisle leaned over and asked, "What are you eating?"
This girl, while one of the more popular ones who loved to talk and socialize, had never even spoken to me before. It was weird because I had two other classes with her, and though not particularly smart, she saw herself as dumb. Of course, she wasn't, even I could see that. But I wasn't about to explain it to her.
I thought the reason she didn't talk to me before was because I was a "social outcast." I am part of no clique, and am practically invisible to most people. But you know, there's a reason for that. And I'm okay with it.
But all of a sudden this girl who's never even spoken to me -- heck, she doesn't even know my name (I know hers, but hey, she's popular, everybody knows her) -- leans over and asks me about my choice of breakfast this morning.
"Uh... Cheerios?" I say, stunned that someone's trying to speak to me. The movie's in the middle of explaining how Andrew Carnegie basically screwed over his best friend so he could keep his own business. It's actually pretty interesting, explaining how his life began in Scotland, and that iron (and eventually steel) companies put his family out of business, throwing them into poverty. Pretty ironic, considering he eventually became the biggest steel company in the world. But this girl just won't let me watch peacefully.
"What do they taste like?" I look at her to make sure she's serious. Excuse me? What does she think they taste like?
"Like Cheerios," I say. By now we're getting some looks; mostly just the guy sitting behind me and the football players sitting one row over -- they're always looking for a distraction. Even if they don't realize it.
"No, but I mean," says the girl, "do they taste good?"
"They're Cheerios," I say. "That's it. That's what they taste like." I keep eating. What? Conversation never stops me from feeding my appetite. The video's busy talking about how Andrew Carnegie profited by making his workers run the steel factories 24 hours a day, seven days a week, paid with bare minimum wage, with one day off -- Independence Day. (Also known as the Fourth of July.) Dude, this guy was ruthless.
"No, no... I mean..." the girl says, trying to explain, "what are they?"
At this point, everyone's like, why can't she let it go? They're FRIGGING CHEERIOS.
"Stop it, man," says a football guy. "They're just Cheerios."
"But what are they?" she asks.
"Can you just shut up?" asks one of the other football dudes, less polite than the rest of us.
"Yeah, man," says another one, two seats behind me. "Just leave Cassie alone." (This guy I actually knew as a person -- in fact, I never learned he was a football player at all until he wore his jersey to school one day.)
"But I wanna know--"
"Is there a problem here?" asks the teacher. Everyone immediately turns to face forward. She isn't actually the teacher -- she's just a student from the college downtown, learning to be a teacher. The real teacher, so far, has just sat in the back and let this student do the work. It's a weird setup. While this "student-teacher" isn't the best person to be feeding you information, she sure can make you feel like you're in trouble.
"No," grumbled Cheerio Girl. We all turned our attention back to the movie.
Haven't spoken to her since.
It's just weird. I'm not sure where she expected to go with this. It's not like she couldn't see the Cheerios sitting on my desk, or me putting them in my mouth, or hear everybody else yelling at her to shut up about the Cheerios already. But she just kept asking what they were. I dunno; maybe her brain short-circuited. I honestly thought she had eaten Cheerios before. Maybe she hadn't, and that was her problem. If so, that would have been a very sad childhood.
It's just really confusing to think you know someone and then have them prove you completely wrong. And that's when you start wondering if they're actually an alien that's been pretending to be that person, and they just broke their cover.
Oh, no... Cheerio Girl is an alien!
~PolarFarina
P.S. Cheerios are awesome. Anyone who says otherwise is an alien, and should meet up with Cheerio Girl so they can plot to get to their home planet(s) safely.
Take the other day in my history class. It's the first class of the day (Sometimes, it depends on what day it is) and a lot of times I don't have enough time to eat breakfast before heading to school, so I grab something quick to munch on in class. This particular day I had brought with me a plastic bag full of Cheerios. I waited to start eating them until about twenty minutes into class, when we began watching a movie about Andrew Carnegie (A whole 2 and a half hours -- three days of just watching a movie! Score!), because I have a weird thing where I concentrate better when I'm eating, especially if I'm watching a movie. I'd been munching on my Cheerios for about ten minutes when the girl across the aisle leaned over and asked, "What are you eating?"
This girl, while one of the more popular ones who loved to talk and socialize, had never even spoken to me before. It was weird because I had two other classes with her, and though not particularly smart, she saw herself as dumb. Of course, she wasn't, even I could see that. But I wasn't about to explain it to her.
I thought the reason she didn't talk to me before was because I was a "social outcast." I am part of no clique, and am practically invisible to most people. But you know, there's a reason for that. And I'm okay with it.
But all of a sudden this girl who's never even spoken to me -- heck, she doesn't even know my name (I know hers, but hey, she's popular, everybody knows her) -- leans over and asks me about my choice of breakfast this morning.
"Uh... Cheerios?" I say, stunned that someone's trying to speak to me. The movie's in the middle of explaining how Andrew Carnegie basically screwed over his best friend so he could keep his own business. It's actually pretty interesting, explaining how his life began in Scotland, and that iron (and eventually steel) companies put his family out of business, throwing them into poverty. Pretty ironic, considering he eventually became the biggest steel company in the world. But this girl just won't let me watch peacefully.
"What do they taste like?" I look at her to make sure she's serious. Excuse me? What does she think they taste like?
"Like Cheerios," I say. By now we're getting some looks; mostly just the guy sitting behind me and the football players sitting one row over -- they're always looking for a distraction. Even if they don't realize it.
"No, but I mean," says the girl, "do they taste good?"
"They're Cheerios," I say. "That's it. That's what they taste like." I keep eating. What? Conversation never stops me from feeding my appetite. The video's busy talking about how Andrew Carnegie profited by making his workers run the steel factories 24 hours a day, seven days a week, paid with bare minimum wage, with one day off -- Independence Day. (Also known as the Fourth of July.) Dude, this guy was ruthless.
"No, no... I mean..." the girl says, trying to explain, "what are they?"
At this point, everyone's like, why can't she let it go? They're FRIGGING CHEERIOS.
"Stop it, man," says a football guy. "They're just Cheerios."
"But what are they?" she asks.
"Can you just shut up?" asks one of the other football dudes, less polite than the rest of us.
"Yeah, man," says another one, two seats behind me. "Just leave Cassie alone." (This guy I actually knew as a person -- in fact, I never learned he was a football player at all until he wore his jersey to school one day.)
"But I wanna know--"
"Is there a problem here?" asks the teacher. Everyone immediately turns to face forward. She isn't actually the teacher -- she's just a student from the college downtown, learning to be a teacher. The real teacher, so far, has just sat in the back and let this student do the work. It's a weird setup. While this "student-teacher" isn't the best person to be feeding you information, she sure can make you feel like you're in trouble.
"No," grumbled Cheerio Girl. We all turned our attention back to the movie.
Haven't spoken to her since.
It's just weird. I'm not sure where she expected to go with this. It's not like she couldn't see the Cheerios sitting on my desk, or me putting them in my mouth, or hear everybody else yelling at her to shut up about the Cheerios already. But she just kept asking what they were. I dunno; maybe her brain short-circuited. I honestly thought she had eaten Cheerios before. Maybe she hadn't, and that was her problem. If so, that would have been a very sad childhood.
It's just really confusing to think you know someone and then have them prove you completely wrong. And that's when you start wondering if they're actually an alien that's been pretending to be that person, and they just broke their cover.
Oh, no... Cheerio Girl is an alien!
~PolarFarina
P.S. Cheerios are awesome. Anyone who says otherwise is an alien, and should meet up with Cheerio Girl so they can plot to get to their home planet(s) safely.
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Chapter Sixteen: Villian
Cassandra and The Super touched down on the ground, Rose not even turning around from her spot on the ground; she was still looking over The Blue Octo. A third pair of feet settled on the ground, and upon hearing this, she turned, and was met with Alfonso.
"Oh, great," said Rose. "Another person you've neglected. Seems to me it's my turn; I'm waiting."
"Ha, ha," said The Super, sarcastically. He was sick and tired of her passive-aggressively lecturing him, but then again, every argument she made had some pretty good evidence supporting it. He just couldn't get mad at her; he only related to her opinions. But that didn't mean he couldn't act mad. The Super saw it this way: he'd rather have everyone leave his personal life alone. If he led them to believe he was sensitive, maybe they'd give him some space, respect him a bit. Or, maybe not. It was an experiment in progress.
See, he wasn't trying to be mean in any way, shape, or form. He just sometimes got so focused on things that everything else melted away, and it wasn't his problem anymore. Except they didn't really melt away, and he knew it. But that didn't stop him.
He didn't used to forget about people, or how many years it's been since that thing happened; this was a recent development, started when he signed on with the new people. He'd started degrading since then, really -- he needed to quit that organization soon. It had seemed like a good idea to him, as a new, inexperienced hero, but now he knew it was just oppressive. Plus, he didn't know who he really was working for. The world may end soon, he told himself; it was time for change.
He turned his thoughts toward the creature lying in front of Rose, unconscious for the fourth time. "Well?" he asked. "Have you gotten anything?" Though he did fake most of his anger, his frustration with The Blue Octo was very real. Just the fact that the thing was here reminded him of his past, before he lost so much. It was a physical link to the past, shouting in his face the mistakes he could never forget, reminding him so vividly of a better past, shoving his mind into a tiny box that contained an old world.
He didn't need more containment; he needed freedom. But he couldn't walk away. He couldn't just stop being the hero he was, or act insane without rhyme or reason. He couldn't disappear without warning and come back days later. He couldn't be who he really wanted to be: free of these huge commitments, able to do so much more with less responsibilities. He knew where he came from -- sort of-- and he had pictured himself living there, maybe even starting a family. But then he'd gotten a call about The Blue Octo, and he came back to Earth to stop him... and he'd never left. Maybe he should quit herowork altogether...
He felt the rage toward The Blue Octo grow again, rising up inside of him, and he managed to trap it, but not before it got to his eyebrows. Man, he could feel those things furrow so deep he thought he might not be able to see through them.
Rose looked into The Super's eyes, and he saw fear glint in the back of her eyes, just for an instant, and then they glazed over. They lost their shine, hardened in their sockets, and Rose pulled a mean face. She was the kind of person who looked nice... until you saw her grimace. This specific grmace, however, seemed to be hiding something. Of course, he was just speculating, anyway -- what did he know about humans?
Rose turned back to stare at Octo, and said quietly, "Not yet." For a second, The Super wondered what she meant, but then he realized she was answering his own question. His mind could move so fast, yet he could remember so little....
"Fine," said The Super. "We'll take him back to HQ."
"And how, exactly, are we going to do that?" asked Alfonzo. "There's only two people with powers here. Unless you can levitate objects with your mind--"
"You seem to forget," interrupted The Super, "that I can carry just about anything I want, whether it be human, octopus, or continent. Don't insult me with your under-estimations." What a fool! Treating him like he was less powerful than he was... this boy should be taught a lesson. He started heating his eyes for laser execution, but then he stopped. What would that accomplish? It would only hinder the saving of the world even more. His mind cleared, and he felt shame. He was turning into the kind of person he used to fight against; he was becoming what he had feared would happen... He stopped thinking in riddles, remembered that Alfonso had enough of The Super's torment for one day.
The Super sighed. "Sorry. Just, you know, rough day and all."
Alfonzo gave him the kind of glare that said his apology was not accepted. "Let's just go."
The Super picked up Octo and Rose climbed onto his back. "Get ready for a bumpy ride," The Super said quietly to Octo, who of course was still unconscious. "Old friend."
Rose gave The Super a look, and The Super pleaded with his eyes for her not to mention what he just said. She nodded, with the smallest hint of a friendly smile, and then they were in the air, sailing over a bright orange terrain colored even more vibrantly by the setting sun. They'd been out here all day; the others, back at home, were probably worried.
Well, then, thought The Super. Better hurry home. Don't want to be late for dinner.
~PolarFarina
"Oh, great," said Rose. "Another person you've neglected. Seems to me it's my turn; I'm waiting."
"Ha, ha," said The Super, sarcastically. He was sick and tired of her passive-aggressively lecturing him, but then again, every argument she made had some pretty good evidence supporting it. He just couldn't get mad at her; he only related to her opinions. But that didn't mean he couldn't act mad. The Super saw it this way: he'd rather have everyone leave his personal life alone. If he led them to believe he was sensitive, maybe they'd give him some space, respect him a bit. Or, maybe not. It was an experiment in progress.
See, he wasn't trying to be mean in any way, shape, or form. He just sometimes got so focused on things that everything else melted away, and it wasn't his problem anymore. Except they didn't really melt away, and he knew it. But that didn't stop him.
He didn't used to forget about people, or how many years it's been since that thing happened; this was a recent development, started when he signed on with the new people. He'd started degrading since then, really -- he needed to quit that organization soon. It had seemed like a good idea to him, as a new, inexperienced hero, but now he knew it was just oppressive. Plus, he didn't know who he really was working for. The world may end soon, he told himself; it was time for change.
He turned his thoughts toward the creature lying in front of Rose, unconscious for the fourth time. "Well?" he asked. "Have you gotten anything?" Though he did fake most of his anger, his frustration with The Blue Octo was very real. Just the fact that the thing was here reminded him of his past, before he lost so much. It was a physical link to the past, shouting in his face the mistakes he could never forget, reminding him so vividly of a better past, shoving his mind into a tiny box that contained an old world.
He didn't need more containment; he needed freedom. But he couldn't walk away. He couldn't just stop being the hero he was, or act insane without rhyme or reason. He couldn't disappear without warning and come back days later. He couldn't be who he really wanted to be: free of these huge commitments, able to do so much more with less responsibilities. He knew where he came from -- sort of-- and he had pictured himself living there, maybe even starting a family. But then he'd gotten a call about The Blue Octo, and he came back to Earth to stop him... and he'd never left. Maybe he should quit herowork altogether...
He felt the rage toward The Blue Octo grow again, rising up inside of him, and he managed to trap it, but not before it got to his eyebrows. Man, he could feel those things furrow so deep he thought he might not be able to see through them.
Rose looked into The Super's eyes, and he saw fear glint in the back of her eyes, just for an instant, and then they glazed over. They lost their shine, hardened in their sockets, and Rose pulled a mean face. She was the kind of person who looked nice... until you saw her grimace. This specific grmace, however, seemed to be hiding something. Of course, he was just speculating, anyway -- what did he know about humans?
Rose turned back to stare at Octo, and said quietly, "Not yet." For a second, The Super wondered what she meant, but then he realized she was answering his own question. His mind could move so fast, yet he could remember so little....
"Fine," said The Super. "We'll take him back to HQ."
"And how, exactly, are we going to do that?" asked Alfonzo. "There's only two people with powers here. Unless you can levitate objects with your mind--"
"You seem to forget," interrupted The Super, "that I can carry just about anything I want, whether it be human, octopus, or continent. Don't insult me with your under-estimations." What a fool! Treating him like he was less powerful than he was... this boy should be taught a lesson. He started heating his eyes for laser execution, but then he stopped. What would that accomplish? It would only hinder the saving of the world even more. His mind cleared, and he felt shame. He was turning into the kind of person he used to fight against; he was becoming what he had feared would happen... He stopped thinking in riddles, remembered that Alfonso had enough of The Super's torment for one day.
The Super sighed. "Sorry. Just, you know, rough day and all."
Alfonzo gave him the kind of glare that said his apology was not accepted. "Let's just go."
The Super picked up Octo and Rose climbed onto his back. "Get ready for a bumpy ride," The Super said quietly to Octo, who of course was still unconscious. "Old friend."
Rose gave The Super a look, and The Super pleaded with his eyes for her not to mention what he just said. She nodded, with the smallest hint of a friendly smile, and then they were in the air, sailing over a bright orange terrain colored even more vibrantly by the setting sun. They'd been out here all day; the others, back at home, were probably worried.
Well, then, thought The Super. Better hurry home. Don't want to be late for dinner.
~PolarFarina
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Chapter Fifteen: Smirk
Cassandra frowned, trying to block out the noise. Rose and the Super were arguing, again. Great.
She looked out over the desert, trying to picture what it would look like during a sunset. She didn't know why, but she loved sunsets-- something about the way the colors melted across the terrain and sky, saturating the world with color, maybe. It was just so pretty, but almost impossible to draw. She'd tried lots of times, but they never turned out how she wanted.
She thought about what Rose had said; how she wasn't really here. But that didn't make sense, because she could feel the sunlight, smell the dry air, taste the dust in her mouth. She heard the wind whistling through the canyon, and felt more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life. How could this be a dream?
She thought back to how her life used to be: school, spending time with her best friend, Elizabeth, with all her crazy curls. She remembered spending free time drawing, anything, anything as long as she could get it down on paper. She remembered climbing trees at recess and digging in the dirt, poking sticks into the little holes the moles made. She loved to climb; she even used to climb the swing set, which was about twenty feet high, but the duty teachers got mad at her for doing that. That used to be so much fun.
She wondered what Elizabeth was doing right now. Was she waiting for Cassandra, whether or not she was physically gone or just in a coma? Had she finally moved to Rhode Island, where her family had been planning to go for years now? Would she ever get to see Elizabeth again? Or had she found a new best friend altogether? Aside from these people she'd only known for a day, Cassandra had no other friends than Elizabeth. If Elizabeth had moved on, how would Cassandra be able to cope when she went back? Or -- this scared her even more -- what if she really was in a coma and she suddenly woke up? Would she put those on this side of reality in danger? How could she go back to normal life, after all this? And there was more to come, for sure... She couldn't bear the thought of leaving all this behind.
Someone shouted a word Cassandra wasn't allowed to use, which of course grabbed her attention. It was silent for a moment, and then Rose said, "Did... did you forget how many years ago you put this guy in jail? You forgot hoe long it's been since you last fought your first nemesis?" Mumbling on The Super's part; Cassandra couldn't quite hear what he said. They continued their heated conversation as she wandered in thought again.
Cassandra guessed she should be worried, too, but she knew why The Super had so much trouble with memories. It's his curse: he only knows what he is now, in this moment. He can't remember anything before he became the person he is currently, and since he's alien, it's impossible to tell how old he is; or how many personality changes he's gone through. It's an awkward thing for him, she guessed, because no one here really is an alien; at least, not in the way The Super is. Rose and herself were both human, native to Earth, if from different timelines. Alfonso-- well, she didn't know much about him yet. Even The Blue Octo was just a genetic experiment, using organisms native to Earth. People just don't get it without The Super having to explain it in detail, and then they just think he's weird and that they'd be better off not having wasted twenty minutes on something so boring.
Cassandra stopped for a moment and wondered how she knew all of this. Most people would think it was just wistful guessing, but for some reason, she knew those facts to be true. And this troubled her. Today was her first time meeting The Super, and she should only know what the others did -- maybe even less, considering how childishly he treated her -- but yet it seemed she knew everything.
"Aw, man, that's just sad," Rose was saying. She sighed and turned back to treat The Blue Octo.
Suddenly some movement on the floor of the canyon caught Cassandra's attention. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. After some concentration, it suddenly clicked-- Alfonso. The Super had just left him down there, not even bothering to bring him along. Say what you will about heroes, but sometimes, they're complete morons.
The Super had started talking again by now, but Cassandra wasn't listening. She stood up and took flight, zooming almost silently forward, then braking so she could change direction. She still didn't have the steering down completely, even though she'd had her powers for a couple years now. She angled herself and shot diagonally to land on the floor of the canyon.
Hmm, thought Cassandra. If I am in a coma, does that mean I can control what happens? Can I control the environment, like I would in a real dream? Her thoughts were interrupted by her feet touching down on the ground. She shuffled her legs a bit as she walked, trying not to stumble from the sudden solidness below her feet. She got close to Alfonso, who had his back turned, so she poked him in the shoulder. He jumped about ten feet in the air.
"Alfonso?"
"Eh? What do you want now? Are you coming to tell me that you're sorry, but I can't come with you, that you've found that blue replacement and that you're going to leave me here to die? Because that wouldn't be the first time."
"Wow," said Cassandra. "You are such a ray of sunshine. Come on, I'm here to give you a lift back. People seem to have forgotten about you."
"Yeah," said Alfonso. "happens a lot." He straightened his leather jacket, tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes. He stared at the ground, the sky, the cliffs, anywhere but at her. It was weird, because she had noticed he was usually pretty direct. But now he was avoiding her gaze. Why?
"Don't worry, though," said Cassandra. "They don't know I'm gone. If we hurry it'll be like you just materialized there." This got a smirk from Alfonso; the closest he'd ever come to a real smile so far.
"HEY!" came a shout from back the way Cassandra had come.
"Oh, well," she said. "Looks like I've been spotted. It's too late for me, you'll have to go on alone." She swept her hand dramatically through the air, her hand resting on her forehead. She heard a puff of air come out of Alfonso's nose, which could've passed as a laugh. When she looked at his face, though, it was serious. For a second, there almost looked like there was a twinkle in his eye, but then it disappeared.
Whatever, Cassandra thought. She knew she'd made Alfonso a friend. Something she couldn't say for anyone else here.
The Super gracefully landed next to them, and Cassandra felt a pang of jealousy; how come he got to be so graceful? "What are you two doing?" The Super growled. He really was in a bad mood; The Blue Octo was unsettling in general, but man, no one else could get The Super this mad.
"Doens't matter," he said. "Get up here, T-Bo's going to wake up for real soon. And why's Alfonso down here, too? Did you carry him?"
"No," Cassandra said, "you did. And then just left him here. To starve to death."
"Oh," said The Super, obviously not sure what to say. "Well, get up here. We'll need you both." He took off again, blasting both Alfonso and Cassandra with hot air.
"Well, then," Cassandra said, facing Alfonso. "Let's go interrogate a blue octopus mutation experiment to find out the hidden location of thousands of escaped criminals running free in the desert, led by a feirce dragn and his best friend, the kid sorcerer."
"Sounds fun," said Alfonso.
"Oh, it will be."
"Are you sure I'm the only one who's a bit crazy?" asked Alfonso.
"Well, I am a superhero who dosn't actually exist. Plus, you know, I'm eight. So stop treating me like I'm ten. Also, did I mention that Rose is my future self who was born before I was? I think I deserve some crazy-slack, okay?"
"Wait, what? What you just said made literally no sense to me," said Alfonso. "At all."
"Trust me, it will. Someday. Now hop on the Crazy Bus. We have an interrogation to catch."
Here you go: Alfonso. He's now an official character that you get to know. Don't pretend that I didn't know his character was weak. I fixed some of that here, or at least, I think I did. Let me know if you think he needs some better development.
Also, I did some fixing of random stuff in earlier chapters to make the storyline work better. Thought you might want to know.
I'm tired. This took me three days to think through and actually write. I'm tired and I'm going to bed. Thank you, and good night, everybody.
~PolarFarina
She looked out over the desert, trying to picture what it would look like during a sunset. She didn't know why, but she loved sunsets-- something about the way the colors melted across the terrain and sky, saturating the world with color, maybe. It was just so pretty, but almost impossible to draw. She'd tried lots of times, but they never turned out how she wanted.
She thought about what Rose had said; how she wasn't really here. But that didn't make sense, because she could feel the sunlight, smell the dry air, taste the dust in her mouth. She heard the wind whistling through the canyon, and felt more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life. How could this be a dream?
She thought back to how her life used to be: school, spending time with her best friend, Elizabeth, with all her crazy curls. She remembered spending free time drawing, anything, anything as long as she could get it down on paper. She remembered climbing trees at recess and digging in the dirt, poking sticks into the little holes the moles made. She loved to climb; she even used to climb the swing set, which was about twenty feet high, but the duty teachers got mad at her for doing that. That used to be so much fun.
She wondered what Elizabeth was doing right now. Was she waiting for Cassandra, whether or not she was physically gone or just in a coma? Had she finally moved to Rhode Island, where her family had been planning to go for years now? Would she ever get to see Elizabeth again? Or had she found a new best friend altogether? Aside from these people she'd only known for a day, Cassandra had no other friends than Elizabeth. If Elizabeth had moved on, how would Cassandra be able to cope when she went back? Or -- this scared her even more -- what if she really was in a coma and she suddenly woke up? Would she put those on this side of reality in danger? How could she go back to normal life, after all this? And there was more to come, for sure... She couldn't bear the thought of leaving all this behind.
Someone shouted a word Cassandra wasn't allowed to use, which of course grabbed her attention. It was silent for a moment, and then Rose said, "Did... did you forget how many years ago you put this guy in jail? You forgot hoe long it's been since you last fought your first nemesis?" Mumbling on The Super's part; Cassandra couldn't quite hear what he said. They continued their heated conversation as she wandered in thought again.
Cassandra guessed she should be worried, too, but she knew why The Super had so much trouble with memories. It's his curse: he only knows what he is now, in this moment. He can't remember anything before he became the person he is currently, and since he's alien, it's impossible to tell how old he is; or how many personality changes he's gone through. It's an awkward thing for him, she guessed, because no one here really is an alien; at least, not in the way The Super is. Rose and herself were both human, native to Earth, if from different timelines. Alfonso-- well, she didn't know much about him yet. Even The Blue Octo was just a genetic experiment, using organisms native to Earth. People just don't get it without The Super having to explain it in detail, and then they just think he's weird and that they'd be better off not having wasted twenty minutes on something so boring.
Cassandra stopped for a moment and wondered how she knew all of this. Most people would think it was just wistful guessing, but for some reason, she knew those facts to be true. And this troubled her. Today was her first time meeting The Super, and she should only know what the others did -- maybe even less, considering how childishly he treated her -- but yet it seemed she knew everything.
"Aw, man, that's just sad," Rose was saying. She sighed and turned back to treat The Blue Octo.
Suddenly some movement on the floor of the canyon caught Cassandra's attention. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. After some concentration, it suddenly clicked-- Alfonso. The Super had just left him down there, not even bothering to bring him along. Say what you will about heroes, but sometimes, they're complete morons.
The Super had started talking again by now, but Cassandra wasn't listening. She stood up and took flight, zooming almost silently forward, then braking so she could change direction. She still didn't have the steering down completely, even though she'd had her powers for a couple years now. She angled herself and shot diagonally to land on the floor of the canyon.
Hmm, thought Cassandra. If I am in a coma, does that mean I can control what happens? Can I control the environment, like I would in a real dream? Her thoughts were interrupted by her feet touching down on the ground. She shuffled her legs a bit as she walked, trying not to stumble from the sudden solidness below her feet. She got close to Alfonso, who had his back turned, so she poked him in the shoulder. He jumped about ten feet in the air.
"Alfonso?"
"Eh? What do you want now? Are you coming to tell me that you're sorry, but I can't come with you, that you've found that blue replacement and that you're going to leave me here to die? Because that wouldn't be the first time."
"Wow," said Cassandra. "You are such a ray of sunshine. Come on, I'm here to give you a lift back. People seem to have forgotten about you."
"Yeah," said Alfonso. "happens a lot." He straightened his leather jacket, tossed his head to get the hair out of his eyes. He stared at the ground, the sky, the cliffs, anywhere but at her. It was weird, because she had noticed he was usually pretty direct. But now he was avoiding her gaze. Why?
"Don't worry, though," said Cassandra. "They don't know I'm gone. If we hurry it'll be like you just materialized there." This got a smirk from Alfonso; the closest he'd ever come to a real smile so far.
"HEY!" came a shout from back the way Cassandra had come.
"Oh, well," she said. "Looks like I've been spotted. It's too late for me, you'll have to go on alone." She swept her hand dramatically through the air, her hand resting on her forehead. She heard a puff of air come out of Alfonso's nose, which could've passed as a laugh. When she looked at his face, though, it was serious. For a second, there almost looked like there was a twinkle in his eye, but then it disappeared.
Whatever, Cassandra thought. She knew she'd made Alfonso a friend. Something she couldn't say for anyone else here.
The Super gracefully landed next to them, and Cassandra felt a pang of jealousy; how come he got to be so graceful? "What are you two doing?" The Super growled. He really was in a bad mood; The Blue Octo was unsettling in general, but man, no one else could get The Super this mad.
"Doens't matter," he said. "Get up here, T-Bo's going to wake up for real soon. And why's Alfonso down here, too? Did you carry him?"
"No," Cassandra said, "you did. And then just left him here. To starve to death."
"Oh," said The Super, obviously not sure what to say. "Well, get up here. We'll need you both." He took off again, blasting both Alfonso and Cassandra with hot air.
"Well, then," Cassandra said, facing Alfonso. "Let's go interrogate a blue octopus mutation experiment to find out the hidden location of thousands of escaped criminals running free in the desert, led by a feirce dragn and his best friend, the kid sorcerer."
"Sounds fun," said Alfonso.
"Oh, it will be."
"Are you sure I'm the only one who's a bit crazy?" asked Alfonso.
"Well, I am a superhero who dosn't actually exist. Plus, you know, I'm eight. So stop treating me like I'm ten. Also, did I mention that Rose is my future self who was born before I was? I think I deserve some crazy-slack, okay?"
"Wait, what? What you just said made literally no sense to me," said Alfonso. "At all."
"Trust me, it will. Someday. Now hop on the Crazy Bus. We have an interrogation to catch."
Here you go: Alfonso. He's now an official character that you get to know. Don't pretend that I didn't know his character was weak. I fixed some of that here, or at least, I think I did. Let me know if you think he needs some better development.
Also, I did some fixing of random stuff in earlier chapters to make the storyline work better. Thought you might want to know.
I'm tired. This took me three days to think through and actually write. I'm tired and I'm going to bed. Thank you, and good night, everybody.
~PolarFarina
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Chapter Fourteen: Long-Term
Rose watched the blue thing. It looked like an octopus, except...
creepily humanized. It had a relatively humanoid head, and had two
tentacles that were slightly larger than the rest, which she guessed
could be used as legs, the kind you walk upright on. Right now it was
just kind of lying there, gulping up water like it had never even tasted
it before. Which, of course, would be impossible, because it was an
octopus... probably.
She'd given it a liter of water about ten seconds ago, which he was draining the last drops of while she was trying to nail down what it was. The Super seemed very angry with the thing, but he brought it up here anyway. She wondered why, and what it was doing out in the middle of the desert.
The Super paced back and forth, mumbling to himself, impatient and obviously bothered by the fact that this thing was here. She wanted so badly to ask one of the billion questions that would knock on the door of her mind. But she decided it would be best not to ask, so she would not answer, and they would move on. Before long, she accepted this strange turn of events and focused back on the blue heap on the ground.
She pulled out some food and tried to give it to the octopus thing, but before he could accept it, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out. She stared at his face, his eyes still behind their lids, and his mouth open slightly as breath passed between them. He had no nose. So, she thought to herself, he's a Voldemort octopus who was found wandering alone in the desert. She wasn't sure what scared her more: This person collapsed on the ground, or the fact that The Super, who was supposed to be their leader, their compass, knew this criminal, and, in fact, failed to mention it. Rose supposed it was a bad thing that it was here now. She'd never known The Super could get so worked up so quickly.
"It's passed out again," she called. "Third time."
"Yes, I know, I can count to three," spat The Super. "I just wish he'd stay conscious. You're doing a great job, by the way. Stellar work." He turned to face the sun, walking off again.
"You're welcome," Rose grumbled.
"He looks so tired," said Cassandra, watching Blue Voldemort. "Poor Octo..."
"Yeah, I think he's an octopus, or something close to that anyway," Rose said. She'd almost forgotten that Cassandra was there, she'd been so quiet. I mean, Rose thought to herself, I wasn't exactly known for being a loudmouth when I was a kid. But man, that can really be creepy, even if she doesn't mean for it to be.
"No," Cassandra corrected, "I mean, that's a sort of nickname for him. He's called The Blue Octo. He's The Super's number-one nemesis. He's pulled off some pretty big stuff, and can change his appearance however he wants. I think he's cool. I hope he wakes up soon," she finished, like it was completely normal to recognize random octopi found in the middle of Arizona deserts. Her attention shifted to somewhere in the distance.
"Wait," said Rose, "what?" She whipped her head to look over at The Super, who had already turned back and was glaring at Cassandra, clearly seething with anger. Rose stood up, returning the glare. "And you didn't mention this why? If he's your nemesis, why are we even helping him? Why are you even helping him? What kind of stupid word is nemesis anyway??"
"That," said The Super, gesturing toward the octopus, "is not my nemesis. He's been in jail for the past... uh... years, and I don't want anything to do with that thing. Got it? Stupid T-Bo... Almost confessed, too. He was about to tell us all of their secrets, and then? You just had to let him pass out, didn't you? Now he won't even stay conscious!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Rose, anger rising. "Why is it my fault that he passed out from exhaustion? And since when did you help in any of this? You just dropped him off here like a sack of potatoes so you could go hide in your imaginary man-cave! He probably would've died by now without water! I saved his life!"
"I didn't want you to save his life!"
"Well, then, how would you interrogate him, smartass?"
The Super's face turned a bright shade of green, which, Rose guessed, was most likely meant he was blushing. His skin was normally a kind of sea foam greenish color. Rose was satisfied with her victory, and was relishing in this moment of beating such a famous hero with logic, when suddenly something clicked in her brain, something that had her slightly worried.
"Did... did you forget how many years ago you put this guy in jail? You forgot how long it's been since you fought your first nemesis?" she asked, incredulous.
"...No." He quickly turned his back to her, but she could see his face darkening to more of a grass green, maybe with a bit of forest mixed in. Meh, she thought. Shades aren't really my thing, anyway.
"How old are you, Supes?"
"Why don't you check on The Blue Octo, huh? Since you're so interested in him."
Rose sighed. "Aw, man, that's just sad." She turned back and sat down by the octopus, who showed signs of stirring soon. There was silence as she opened up another bottle and poured it over The Blue Octo's head, trying to cool him down more. The wind whistled through the canyon.
"It's just... I don't know where I came from," The Super said, breaking the quiet. "I can't remember any of my childhood. As far as I know... uh, the hero life? It's all I've ever known. I can't remember anything else, can't be anything else. And I've tried. I'm just... different."
"Yeah, I know how that feels," said Rose. "Technically? I'm about 22. But, also technically? I'm eighteen. Two ages at once. Go figure that one out, why don't you." She looked at Cassandra, and her first thought was: hey, cool, Cassandra can turn invisible. But then she realized that make any sense...
"Uh... where's Cassandra?"
The Super immediately flew into the air, looking over the cliff... where a small dot was moving very fast through the air-- presumably Cassandra. "There," he said, pointing at the small dot. Great, she was running off again. It was almost like having a little sibling, when your younger self hangs around. Except you can always tell what they're thinking. That's the creepiest part about it, almost like being psychic. Rose hated psychics.
"Okay," said Rose. "You go after Cassandra. I'll stay here, look after Mr Voldemort here."
The Super nodded, and took off, sending a sort, refreshing gust of air through the canyon and he neared light speed.
"Who's Cassandra?" croaked someone, probably a frog. His voice was so croaky Rose couldn't picture anything else. And hey, if she can meet her eight-year-old self in an alternate dimension where she was a super hero, and they were both working with an alien superhero from another planet with a long-term memory problem, why can't frogs talk?
She looked down at Blue Voldemort. "Hello," he croaked. "I've got some very important information for you, if you're willing."
"Oh, yeah," said Rose. "I'm willing."
TAAAAA-DAAAAA!!! Hooray! Story advancement! Yay! Yay! Yay!
I hope you like this! I spent about an hour on it, so you better like it!! Just kidding, you don't have to like it, but it would make me really happy if you told me what you thought, or even just complained to me about my lack of consistency. Remember, you can email me at polarfarina@gmail.com. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think! I will always reply. Always.
Thanks so much for reading! I LOVE your support!!
~PolarFarina.
She'd given it a liter of water about ten seconds ago, which he was draining the last drops of while she was trying to nail down what it was. The Super seemed very angry with the thing, but he brought it up here anyway. She wondered why, and what it was doing out in the middle of the desert.
The Super paced back and forth, mumbling to himself, impatient and obviously bothered by the fact that this thing was here. She wanted so badly to ask one of the billion questions that would knock on the door of her mind. But she decided it would be best not to ask, so she would not answer, and they would move on. Before long, she accepted this strange turn of events and focused back on the blue heap on the ground.
She pulled out some food and tried to give it to the octopus thing, but before he could accept it, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out. She stared at his face, his eyes still behind their lids, and his mouth open slightly as breath passed between them. He had no nose. So, she thought to herself, he's a Voldemort octopus who was found wandering alone in the desert. She wasn't sure what scared her more: This person collapsed on the ground, or the fact that The Super, who was supposed to be their leader, their compass, knew this criminal, and, in fact, failed to mention it. Rose supposed it was a bad thing that it was here now. She'd never known The Super could get so worked up so quickly.
"It's passed out again," she called. "Third time."
"Yes, I know, I can count to three," spat The Super. "I just wish he'd stay conscious. You're doing a great job, by the way. Stellar work." He turned to face the sun, walking off again.
"You're welcome," Rose grumbled.
"He looks so tired," said Cassandra, watching Blue Voldemort. "Poor Octo..."
"Yeah, I think he's an octopus, or something close to that anyway," Rose said. She'd almost forgotten that Cassandra was there, she'd been so quiet. I mean, Rose thought to herself, I wasn't exactly known for being a loudmouth when I was a kid. But man, that can really be creepy, even if she doesn't mean for it to be.
"No," Cassandra corrected, "I mean, that's a sort of nickname for him. He's called The Blue Octo. He's The Super's number-one nemesis. He's pulled off some pretty big stuff, and can change his appearance however he wants. I think he's cool. I hope he wakes up soon," she finished, like it was completely normal to recognize random octopi found in the middle of Arizona deserts. Her attention shifted to somewhere in the distance.
"Wait," said Rose, "what?" She whipped her head to look over at The Super, who had already turned back and was glaring at Cassandra, clearly seething with anger. Rose stood up, returning the glare. "And you didn't mention this why? If he's your nemesis, why are we even helping him? Why are you even helping him? What kind of stupid word is nemesis anyway??"
"That," said The Super, gesturing toward the octopus, "is not my nemesis. He's been in jail for the past... uh... years, and I don't want anything to do with that thing. Got it? Stupid T-Bo... Almost confessed, too. He was about to tell us all of their secrets, and then? You just had to let him pass out, didn't you? Now he won't even stay conscious!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Rose, anger rising. "Why is it my fault that he passed out from exhaustion? And since when did you help in any of this? You just dropped him off here like a sack of potatoes so you could go hide in your imaginary man-cave! He probably would've died by now without water! I saved his life!"
"I didn't want you to save his life!"
"Well, then, how would you interrogate him, smartass?"
The Super's face turned a bright shade of green, which, Rose guessed, was most likely meant he was blushing. His skin was normally a kind of sea foam greenish color. Rose was satisfied with her victory, and was relishing in this moment of beating such a famous hero with logic, when suddenly something clicked in her brain, something that had her slightly worried.
"Did... did you forget how many years ago you put this guy in jail? You forgot how long it's been since you fought your first nemesis?" she asked, incredulous.
"...No." He quickly turned his back to her, but she could see his face darkening to more of a grass green, maybe with a bit of forest mixed in. Meh, she thought. Shades aren't really my thing, anyway.
"How old are you, Supes?"
"Why don't you check on The Blue Octo, huh? Since you're so interested in him."
Rose sighed. "Aw, man, that's just sad." She turned back and sat down by the octopus, who showed signs of stirring soon. There was silence as she opened up another bottle and poured it over The Blue Octo's head, trying to cool him down more. The wind whistled through the canyon.
"It's just... I don't know where I came from," The Super said, breaking the quiet. "I can't remember any of my childhood. As far as I know... uh, the hero life? It's all I've ever known. I can't remember anything else, can't be anything else. And I've tried. I'm just... different."
"Yeah, I know how that feels," said Rose. "Technically? I'm about 22. But, also technically? I'm eighteen. Two ages at once. Go figure that one out, why don't you." She looked at Cassandra, and her first thought was: hey, cool, Cassandra can turn invisible. But then she realized that make any sense...
"Uh... where's Cassandra?"
The Super immediately flew into the air, looking over the cliff... where a small dot was moving very fast through the air-- presumably Cassandra. "There," he said, pointing at the small dot. Great, she was running off again. It was almost like having a little sibling, when your younger self hangs around. Except you can always tell what they're thinking. That's the creepiest part about it, almost like being psychic. Rose hated psychics.
"Okay," said Rose. "You go after Cassandra. I'll stay here, look after Mr Voldemort here."
The Super nodded, and took off, sending a sort, refreshing gust of air through the canyon and he neared light speed.
"Who's Cassandra?" croaked someone, probably a frog. His voice was so croaky Rose couldn't picture anything else. And hey, if she can meet her eight-year-old self in an alternate dimension where she was a super hero, and they were both working with an alien superhero from another planet with a long-term memory problem, why can't frogs talk?
She looked down at Blue Voldemort. "Hello," he croaked. "I've got some very important information for you, if you're willing."
"Oh, yeah," said Rose. "I'm willing."
TAAAAA-DAAAAA!!! Hooray! Story advancement! Yay! Yay! Yay!
I hope you like this! I spent about an hour on it, so you better like it!! Just kidding, you don't have to like it, but it would make me really happy if you told me what you thought, or even just complained to me about my lack of consistency. Remember, you can email me at polarfarina@gmail.com. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think! I will always reply. Always.
Thanks so much for reading! I LOVE your support!!
~PolarFarina.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Expectations and The Apocalypse of Rainfall
I have a strange way of setting expectations: I don't have them.
You might be like, "Whaaaaaat?" But it's true: I never expect anything from anyone or anything. Because it sucks to be let down. But also for a more important reason: It make the good times stand out.
Let's set an example. Say I'm going to a party. Let's say that I'm expecting it to be the best party ever where I dance the whole time and end up passing out from too much fun. Of course, this doesn't happen, and I leave this party feeling stolen of my rights. What rights, you ask? I don't know. Maybe my rights to predicting the future? I can't clarify. But, the point is: I have let myself down. I never even thought about the good stuff that happened at the party; only the fact that I felt cheated.
Let's say that never happened. Let's say that I'm going to that same party, but instead, I have no idea what to expect. So I don't assume anything, other than I should wear shoes and bring a coat. I go, and end up joking with my friends, jamming to certain songs, and spending the whole time smiling. I might not have been a party animal, but heck, I had a good time.
The difference? Not expecting anything. Not really sure how it works, but if I have no idea what I'm getting myself into, I end up having more fun, being happier, and in turn, making the people around me happier.
I started this blog with one expectation. That's saying a lot, coming from someone who normally doesn't have any. I expected it to fail. No joke; I never even imagined actual people in the actual outside world ever reading it.
It's one thing to have no expectations and end up having a good time; it's a different thing entirely to expect the worst and then get the EXACT OPPOSITE. I never even knew it was possible, but here you are, proving me completely wrong. And it makes me so happy. Like, so happy that I have tried again and again to voice my euphoria, and failed every single time. So I keep trying, and failing. This is the closest I've come, really, and it still doesn't illustrate it the way I want it to.
But when I let you down? That crushes me even more. It feels like I've been buried underneath a building that was set on fire before it toppled on top of me. And it makes me so sad, and frustrated, and worried that you're losing your trust in me. Because, I've gotta say, I have not come anywhere close to giving you what I promised.
I choose now to write this because I've let you down. Again.
Long story short: I've been working on this comic. And it's been a year in the making, so it's really thought out on my part, and I was going to make this big reveal on Friday the 24th, and it was all going smoothly, and I was happy. Of course, once things start going smoothly, that should be a warning that something bad's going to happen, but I failed to see reason that day. (Well, I fail to see reason almost all the time, but, you know, I'm a teenager. That's what we teens do, really. Fail to see reason.) I hadn't finished it yet, so I brought it with me one day in my backpack, and, well, it rained. Needless to say, it got completely soaked, and now it's ruined. All of the pages have had at least some marker bleed on them, and so they're tinted pink. And Batman? He ain't pink.
So now I feel like I've let you down. It was my fault that I had it in my backpack, but it wasn't my fault it rained. I'm not really sure where the blame falls, but that's not really the point. I still feel terrible.
I'm going to try to fix this. It might go longer than any of us want it to, and I'm sorry. I know I keep saying that, but I keep doing stuff that I need to apologize for. I feel like a jerk if I don't tell you that I feel bad about ruining your blog experience.
THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE ANYWAY!! You make me feel like I can go on, and if you guys weren't here reading this I'm not sure I'd have the confidence to even go out in public. It's weird; impressing complete strangers gives me the confidence to do stuff.
So anyway, I'm losing track of what I'm talking about here, so I'm going to end this post. Please bear with me; I've got a lot of stuff. What with Halloween coming up (which I don't even have the beginning of my costume done yet -- oops!), and basketball tryouts the day before my birthday next month, and friends suddenly quitting, and random allergic reactions to stuff I'm not even supposed to be allergic to, and... there's just a lot of stuff going on in my personal life I don't need to stress you about, but here I am, rambling again. I'll let you get on with your own personal life.
You guys are the best time travelers in the universe.
~PolarFarina. (Does it have to make sense? My life doesn't make sense. Deal with it.)
You might be like, "Whaaaaaat?" But it's true: I never expect anything from anyone or anything. Because it sucks to be let down. But also for a more important reason: It make the good times stand out.
Let's set an example. Say I'm going to a party. Let's say that I'm expecting it to be the best party ever where I dance the whole time and end up passing out from too much fun. Of course, this doesn't happen, and I leave this party feeling stolen of my rights. What rights, you ask? I don't know. Maybe my rights to predicting the future? I can't clarify. But, the point is: I have let myself down. I never even thought about the good stuff that happened at the party; only the fact that I felt cheated.
Let's say that never happened. Let's say that I'm going to that same party, but instead, I have no idea what to expect. So I don't assume anything, other than I should wear shoes and bring a coat. I go, and end up joking with my friends, jamming to certain songs, and spending the whole time smiling. I might not have been a party animal, but heck, I had a good time.
The difference? Not expecting anything. Not really sure how it works, but if I have no idea what I'm getting myself into, I end up having more fun, being happier, and in turn, making the people around me happier.
I started this blog with one expectation. That's saying a lot, coming from someone who normally doesn't have any. I expected it to fail. No joke; I never even imagined actual people in the actual outside world ever reading it.
It's one thing to have no expectations and end up having a good time; it's a different thing entirely to expect the worst and then get the EXACT OPPOSITE. I never even knew it was possible, but here you are, proving me completely wrong. And it makes me so happy. Like, so happy that I have tried again and again to voice my euphoria, and failed every single time. So I keep trying, and failing. This is the closest I've come, really, and it still doesn't illustrate it the way I want it to.
But when I let you down? That crushes me even more. It feels like I've been buried underneath a building that was set on fire before it toppled on top of me. And it makes me so sad, and frustrated, and worried that you're losing your trust in me. Because, I've gotta say, I have not come anywhere close to giving you what I promised.
I choose now to write this because I've let you down. Again.
Long story short: I've been working on this comic. And it's been a year in the making, so it's really thought out on my part, and I was going to make this big reveal on Friday the 24th, and it was all going smoothly, and I was happy. Of course, once things start going smoothly, that should be a warning that something bad's going to happen, but I failed to see reason that day. (Well, I fail to see reason almost all the time, but, you know, I'm a teenager. That's what we teens do, really. Fail to see reason.) I hadn't finished it yet, so I brought it with me one day in my backpack, and, well, it rained. Needless to say, it got completely soaked, and now it's ruined. All of the pages have had at least some marker bleed on them, and so they're tinted pink. And Batman? He ain't pink.
So now I feel like I've let you down. It was my fault that I had it in my backpack, but it wasn't my fault it rained. I'm not really sure where the blame falls, but that's not really the point. I still feel terrible.
I'm going to try to fix this. It might go longer than any of us want it to, and I'm sorry. I know I keep saying that, but I keep doing stuff that I need to apologize for. I feel like a jerk if I don't tell you that I feel bad about ruining your blog experience.
THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE ANYWAY!! You make me feel like I can go on, and if you guys weren't here reading this I'm not sure I'd have the confidence to even go out in public. It's weird; impressing complete strangers gives me the confidence to do stuff.
So anyway, I'm losing track of what I'm talking about here, so I'm going to end this post. Please bear with me; I've got a lot of stuff. What with Halloween coming up (which I don't even have the beginning of my costume done yet -- oops!), and basketball tryouts the day before my birthday next month, and friends suddenly quitting, and random allergic reactions to stuff I'm not even supposed to be allergic to, and... there's just a lot of stuff going on in my personal life I don't need to stress you about, but here I am, rambling again. I'll let you get on with your own personal life.
You guys are the best time travelers in the universe.
~PolarFarina. (Does it have to make sense? My life doesn't make sense. Deal with it.)
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Chapter Thirteen: Flashback
The Blue Octo hid in the darkness. The alleyway provided optimum cover; he was surprised he hadn't thought about it before this plan.
A shout rang out, bouncing across the brick walls, shattering the dull noise of cars driving by. The Blue Octo took a deep breath, and put on his wig. He straightened his dress, which was wrinkly from being kept in the bottom of his closet for so long. Though he'd though about it many times, he could never part with it, and now he was extremely glad that he hadn't. He held up a tentacle, and, closing his eyes, pressed the button on his watch. There was a flash of light, and like that, he was human.
Of course, it was just a projection, a mirage to act as cover, but it seemed to work well. He'd never tested it in the field before, and he was incredibly nervous. He tried to breathe calmly, not quite being successful, but at least he wasn't hyperventilating. Calm down, he told himself, it'll work out just as you planned.
A second shout echoed through the alleyway. It was time to begin. The Blue Octo smoothed his hair, fluffed his dress, squeaked in a high pitched voice to get in tune, and stepped out of the alleyway. Shaking, he tried to maintain his composure, walking as ladylike as he could manage.
A figure leaped out of the shadows, landing directly in The Blue Octo's path. A red cloak was drawn in front of his face to conceal his identity.
"I'm sowwy, ma'am," the crook said in a deep voice. "I'm afwaid I'll have to take your puwse."
The Blue Octo sighed in frustration, dropping his hands and looking to the sky. He glared at the figure standing in front of him. "Really? Really? Apologizing before you even commit the crime? You have to be the worst criminal I've ever seen, Red." Here Octo crossed his arms, to further emphasize his frustration.
The crook lowered his arm, face open to see, and frowned at Octo. "I'm twying," he said, "weally."
"I know you are," said Octo. "And you were doing a fantastic job, up until you started talking. I know you have a deep voice and all, but that 'I'm sowwy, ma'am' just doesn't cut it. How about you just don't talk at all? Just stand there looking real intimidating."
Red shrugged, and shrank back into the shadows. He jumped back out, and made a growling sound. He made motions to indicate that there would be no funny business if the purse was handed over.
"I like it," said Octo. "Do exactly that next time. And we'll be doing it for real, with fire and everything, so be careful."
"I will," said Red. "Just as wong as I'm gettin' paid."
"Oh, don't worry," said Octo, "if this goes well, you'll have your money. Now once more, from the top! With feeling! It's going to be the real deal this time, so be ready."
Red hid and popped out of the shadows once more, and struck a match. He threw it, and it landed in a puddle, but not before catching Octo's wig on fire.
Octo smiled. Now it was his turn for the theatrics. He took a deep breath, and let out an extremely girly... squeak.
"You wanna twy that again?" asked Red.
"Shut up," mumbled Octo. "You've never had to be a woman before." He took another deep breath, and this time let out a blood-curdling scream: "AAAAAAGH! HELP MEEE!!!" Now they just had to stand there and wait for a minute. So far, it was all going according to plan.
"Oh," said Octo, "and sorry about this next part. I forgot to mention it, and it's really my fault."
"Whaddya mea–" Red was immediately pummeled by a blue-green fist while he simultaneously caught on fire. He collapsed on the spot.
"Sorry about turning your power against you," said a powerful and heroic voice, "but it's in the script."
And there he was: The Super. The one, the only. Octo had never met him in person before, only seen pictures, heard stories. But Octo was a supervillain, and it was high time he stepped up his game. Octo stood there for a second, just taking it in... wow. He had nothing but respect for the hero standing in front of him. It would be such an honor to kill him.
The Super posed for a moment, doing the thing that all heroes do. Then he turned to Octo to offer help; Octo was still in disguise as a damsel in distress. The Super looked directly into his eyes, smiling with all the warmth of a true hero.
But then, his face started to contort, turning to disgust, and then fury, watered down with a bit of disappointment. "Now," he said, "tell us why you're here."
What? thought Octo. This made no sense. Why would he say such a thing? He blinked, and all of a sudden Octo was lying on the ground. He felt extremely warm, and there was sand in his mouth. He rolled over, looking to the sky, and saw The Super looking down at him. There were also two girls, one in her late teens, with very short brown hair, the other maybe ten with long blond hair. The two girls looked worried; The Super was just annoyed.
"Glad you're finally up," The Super said drily, standing up and walking away. The two girls fussed over Octo as he tried to sit up. His head hurt like it had been smashed with a hammer.
"Where...?" he started, but his voice croaked. His throat was like sandpaper. The older girl reached into her knapsack and brought out a bottle of water, handed it to Octo.
"In the desert," answered The Super. He kicked a rock off the cliff. "Where you escaped from prison. What happened, exactly? Where are the others, and why aren't you with them?"
Octo stopped drinking for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
"Aha," he croaked finally. "Now we get to the interesting part. Time," he paused a moment to breathe, "time for the game to begin."
Hello peoples of the planet Earth! I have made another post!
(Random) Heads up: I have Friday off of school. I'll most likely have something up sometime that day for you guys.
I'm excited to be writing again! Sorry I've been sick. I'm the worst person to get sick, too: whenever I get sick, I have trouble doing more than the bare minimum to stay alive, so it's really hard for me to write. It doesn't matter what I get, I just feel really awful and can't do much.
The good news is that I'm back on my feet and writing again!! I've got lots of plans for the blog this month, and not all of them have to do with this story... ;)
By the way, how do you like how it's unfolding? Feel free to comment below, or if it won't let you because sometimes Google just loves people like that, you can email me at polarfarina@gmail.com and it'll be awesome!
Thanks for bearing with me,
~PolarFarina
A shout rang out, bouncing across the brick walls, shattering the dull noise of cars driving by. The Blue Octo took a deep breath, and put on his wig. He straightened his dress, which was wrinkly from being kept in the bottom of his closet for so long. Though he'd though about it many times, he could never part with it, and now he was extremely glad that he hadn't. He held up a tentacle, and, closing his eyes, pressed the button on his watch. There was a flash of light, and like that, he was human.
Of course, it was just a projection, a mirage to act as cover, but it seemed to work well. He'd never tested it in the field before, and he was incredibly nervous. He tried to breathe calmly, not quite being successful, but at least he wasn't hyperventilating. Calm down, he told himself, it'll work out just as you planned.
A second shout echoed through the alleyway. It was time to begin. The Blue Octo smoothed his hair, fluffed his dress, squeaked in a high pitched voice to get in tune, and stepped out of the alleyway. Shaking, he tried to maintain his composure, walking as ladylike as he could manage.
A figure leaped out of the shadows, landing directly in The Blue Octo's path. A red cloak was drawn in front of his face to conceal his identity.
"I'm sowwy, ma'am," the crook said in a deep voice. "I'm afwaid I'll have to take your puwse."
The Blue Octo sighed in frustration, dropping his hands and looking to the sky. He glared at the figure standing in front of him. "Really? Really? Apologizing before you even commit the crime? You have to be the worst criminal I've ever seen, Red." Here Octo crossed his arms, to further emphasize his frustration.
The crook lowered his arm, face open to see, and frowned at Octo. "I'm twying," he said, "weally."
"I know you are," said Octo. "And you were doing a fantastic job, up until you started talking. I know you have a deep voice and all, but that 'I'm sowwy, ma'am' just doesn't cut it. How about you just don't talk at all? Just stand there looking real intimidating."
Red shrugged, and shrank back into the shadows. He jumped back out, and made a growling sound. He made motions to indicate that there would be no funny business if the purse was handed over.
"I like it," said Octo. "Do exactly that next time. And we'll be doing it for real, with fire and everything, so be careful."
"I will," said Red. "Just as wong as I'm gettin' paid."
"Oh, don't worry," said Octo, "if this goes well, you'll have your money. Now once more, from the top! With feeling! It's going to be the real deal this time, so be ready."
Red hid and popped out of the shadows once more, and struck a match. He threw it, and it landed in a puddle, but not before catching Octo's wig on fire.
Octo smiled. Now it was his turn for the theatrics. He took a deep breath, and let out an extremely girly... squeak.
"You wanna twy that again?" asked Red.
"Shut up," mumbled Octo. "You've never had to be a woman before." He took another deep breath, and this time let out a blood-curdling scream: "AAAAAAGH! HELP MEEE!!!" Now they just had to stand there and wait for a minute. So far, it was all going according to plan.
"Oh," said Octo, "and sorry about this next part. I forgot to mention it, and it's really my fault."
"Whaddya mea–" Red was immediately pummeled by a blue-green fist while he simultaneously caught on fire. He collapsed on the spot.
"Sorry about turning your power against you," said a powerful and heroic voice, "but it's in the script."
And there he was: The Super. The one, the only. Octo had never met him in person before, only seen pictures, heard stories. But Octo was a supervillain, and it was high time he stepped up his game. Octo stood there for a second, just taking it in... wow. He had nothing but respect for the hero standing in front of him. It would be such an honor to kill him.
The Super posed for a moment, doing the thing that all heroes do. Then he turned to Octo to offer help; Octo was still in disguise as a damsel in distress. The Super looked directly into his eyes, smiling with all the warmth of a true hero.
But then, his face started to contort, turning to disgust, and then fury, watered down with a bit of disappointment. "Now," he said, "tell us why you're here."
What? thought Octo. This made no sense. Why would he say such a thing? He blinked, and all of a sudden Octo was lying on the ground. He felt extremely warm, and there was sand in his mouth. He rolled over, looking to the sky, and saw The Super looking down at him. There were also two girls, one in her late teens, with very short brown hair, the other maybe ten with long blond hair. The two girls looked worried; The Super was just annoyed.
"Glad you're finally up," The Super said drily, standing up and walking away. The two girls fussed over Octo as he tried to sit up. His head hurt like it had been smashed with a hammer.
"Where...?" he started, but his voice croaked. His throat was like sandpaper. The older girl reached into her knapsack and brought out a bottle of water, handed it to Octo.
"In the desert," answered The Super. He kicked a rock off the cliff. "Where you escaped from prison. What happened, exactly? Where are the others, and why aren't you with them?"
Octo stopped drinking for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
"Aha," he croaked finally. "Now we get to the interesting part. Time," he paused a moment to breathe, "time for the game to begin."
Hello peoples of the planet Earth! I have made another post!
(Random) Heads up: I have Friday off of school. I'll most likely have something up sometime that day for you guys.
I'm excited to be writing again! Sorry I've been sick. I'm the worst person to get sick, too: whenever I get sick, I have trouble doing more than the bare minimum to stay alive, so it's really hard for me to write. It doesn't matter what I get, I just feel really awful and can't do much.
The good news is that I'm back on my feet and writing again!! I've got lots of plans for the blog this month, and not all of them have to do with this story... ;)
By the way, how do you like how it's unfolding? Feel free to comment below, or if it won't let you because sometimes Google just loves people like that, you can email me at polarfarina@gmail.com and it'll be awesome!
Thanks for bearing with me,
~PolarFarina
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Chapter Twelve: Haunting
The Super rushed forward, the wind in his face, screaming in his
ears, yanking on his cape. He saw his target coming closer, and he
slowed to avoid collision. His feet touched the ground and he stood in
front of The Blue Octo.
His first nemesis, his first success, his first headline. He put this bad guy in jail years ago, and had moved on, expecting him to stay there. But that stupid dragon... wait, where was that dragon? Or any of the other convicts? Last month's bust, Biter; or the guy he'd caught ages ago, the star guy... what was his name? Never mind that, what about the sorcerer boy?
"Where's everyone else? What are you doing here?" he demanded.
He looked down at The Blue Octo. Wait, down..? The Blue Octo was lying on the ground, and he wasn't looking too hot. "Wa-teerrr..." he croaked. The desert air had finally caught up with him.
"What are you doing out here? Why aren't you with the others?" demanded the Super. He stared right into Octo's eyes, trying so hard to read the criminal's mind. It was the one power he didn't have. He could fly, shoot lasers, open portals to other dimensions. He could light things on fire at will, understand anything said in any language, and even survive in space. He had a magic map that could take him anywhere he wanted, and he was so strong he hadn't found a limit to what he could carry yet.
But he couldn't read minds. And it made him so frustrated. He was constantly finding new abilities. At least, he used to. Ever since he became a big hero, famous across the galaxy, he'd stopped learning new things. The people in charge of keeping him "under control," an organization he never quite learned the name of and never claimed to be part of the government, told him that he was "above petty crime" and should "focus on the big stuff." In other words, no more stopping crime wherever it could be found; he had to spend his days waiting for them to call him for an assignment. They might not sound legitimate, but when he was faced with either "slight restrictions" or being sent to jail yourself, he decided to follow their orders.
Being a big-shot superhero wanted all over the galaxy seemed nice at times, but The Super missed the old days. Once you get high enough you can't get back down without falling.
He grabbed The Blue Octo by the neck, yanking the limp figure up so they were close to eye level. "Come, on, say something!" demanded The Super. The Octo looked up into The Super's eyes, and he could tell that this enemy had lost all respect for him. The days of witty banter were long gone. Battles fought might as well have never happened; it was as if The Blue Octo were searching for something to tell him who this person was, a look of curiosity combined with caution, and just a hint of skepticism.
The Blue Octo looked into the eyes of The Super as he had done the first time they met: as a stranger.
This terrified The Super so much he dropped Octo, and the creature dropped to the ground with a grunt. Had he really changed that much? Had he become a stranger to himself? It had only been a few years... Years that The Super had lost count of. How long had it been, again? Ten years? He was slipping, and he'd known it for some time, but that didn't stop him from acting as the hero he thought he should be. He didn't want to give up. Not yet. There was always hope; at least, that's what he used to tell himself to keep going, back before he became a big-shot hero, back when he struggled with even the simplest of crimes. Life seemed so simple back then, even with the setbacks. If something needed doing back then, he could do it without having to clear it first. That seemed so far away... like a dream he couldn't quite remember all of. He remembered how it used to feel, becoming a new hero; but not much of what he'd done. Gosh darn it, he really was slipping.
The Super crouched down to look at Octo. His eyes were closed, and for one terrifying second The Super thought he was dead. Then he saw the octopus' chest slowly rise and sink, and he relaxed. The Blue Octo was still alive. The next step: re-hydration.
The Super reached down and looped his arms around The Blue Octo's torso, and slowly took flight, ascending carefully as he thought. He had become a stranger to himself, and it didn't feel good. It felt... hollow. Something was missing, something he'd missed because he hadn't been thinking about it. But now that he focused... there was definitely a hole there. He wondered what used to go there...
The Super sped forward, reaching the top of the plateau in record time. He touched down to the ground, and Rose and Cassandra turned. "Who's that?" asked Rose, looking at the limp figure of The Blue Octo. "Oh, my God! Is he hurt?" She stood up from the rock she'd been sitting on and hurried over to The Blue Octo's side.
Cassandra glared at The Super. "Why's he here?" she asked pointedly.
"Wait," said The Super, "you know who this is?"
"Yeah," said Cassandra. "The blue octopus guy. The one you're always fighting."
"Didn't you say you were from another dimension?" asked The Super.
"Yeah."
"So how do you know who this is? Even if your data is a little off, I mean, his face hasn't even seen daylight in years, and he hasn't fought me for twice as long – but still, not even Rose or Alfonso knows this stuff. No one does. So how can you, a person who's never even seen me before yesterday, know so much about my past?" concluded The Super.
Cassandra stared at her feet, her face turning red.
"To be fair, I'm from another dimension, too," interjected Rose, who was somewhere behind The Super reviving the dehydrated octopus.
Cassandra looked up for half a second, then her eyes darted back down. Wait, was that...? It was! She'd just looked at Rose for collaboration! The Super turned to look at Rose kneeling by The Blue Octo behind him, just as she turned back to her work. Hm... something fishy was going on here.
"I dunno why," Cassandra finally said.
The Super scrunched up his face for a second, debating whether or not to address this secret they were so obviously keeping. He'd worked so hard to hide his past. In the kind of hero business he had somehow gotten into, anything from your past could destroy your future. He couldn't take that chance, because even if he didn't plan to stay like this forever, the past shouldn't determine the future. The Super chose to have no past, so that to figure out his future, they'd have to look at the hero standing in front of them, not the one who rescued damsels in distress fifteen years ago.
The Super decided to let it slide; his career was already falling apart at the seams, and they had bigger problems to address. The Blue Octo was waking up.
"Now," said The Super, "Tell us why you're here."
Hey, guys. Sorry it's been so long. It's just that... stuff happened. I don't really want to talk about it. Basically it took me almost two weeks to write this, and I hate having it drag out for so long. I'll do my best to prevent it from now on, I promise.
This post went really long, and I didn't get to write the stuff I wanted to. But I had to cut it short or else it would be another week before you guys got anything. So I'll write it in the next post. You'll get it sometime during the week of the fifth.
Random note: The movie, The Boxtrolls? Really, really, cool. I recommend it.
That's all I can think of for now. I'm really tired. See you in the next post.
~PolarFarina
P.S. Try to guess why this chapter's called "Haunting." I'll do something special if you do, maybe even draw up a new Randomness of it All comic... *wink wink* Seriously, though, you guys are awesome. Thanks for just being here.
His first nemesis, his first success, his first headline. He put this bad guy in jail years ago, and had moved on, expecting him to stay there. But that stupid dragon... wait, where was that dragon? Or any of the other convicts? Last month's bust, Biter; or the guy he'd caught ages ago, the star guy... what was his name? Never mind that, what about the sorcerer boy?
"Where's everyone else? What are you doing here?" he demanded.
He looked down at The Blue Octo. Wait, down..? The Blue Octo was lying on the ground, and he wasn't looking too hot. "Wa-teerrr..." he croaked. The desert air had finally caught up with him.
"What are you doing out here? Why aren't you with the others?" demanded the Super. He stared right into Octo's eyes, trying so hard to read the criminal's mind. It was the one power he didn't have. He could fly, shoot lasers, open portals to other dimensions. He could light things on fire at will, understand anything said in any language, and even survive in space. He had a magic map that could take him anywhere he wanted, and he was so strong he hadn't found a limit to what he could carry yet.
But he couldn't read minds. And it made him so frustrated. He was constantly finding new abilities. At least, he used to. Ever since he became a big hero, famous across the galaxy, he'd stopped learning new things. The people in charge of keeping him "under control," an organization he never quite learned the name of and never claimed to be part of the government, told him that he was "above petty crime" and should "focus on the big stuff." In other words, no more stopping crime wherever it could be found; he had to spend his days waiting for them to call him for an assignment. They might not sound legitimate, but when he was faced with either "slight restrictions" or being sent to jail yourself, he decided to follow their orders.
Being a big-shot superhero wanted all over the galaxy seemed nice at times, but The Super missed the old days. Once you get high enough you can't get back down without falling.
He grabbed The Blue Octo by the neck, yanking the limp figure up so they were close to eye level. "Come, on, say something!" demanded The Super. The Octo looked up into The Super's eyes, and he could tell that this enemy had lost all respect for him. The days of witty banter were long gone. Battles fought might as well have never happened; it was as if The Blue Octo were searching for something to tell him who this person was, a look of curiosity combined with caution, and just a hint of skepticism.
The Blue Octo looked into the eyes of The Super as he had done the first time they met: as a stranger.
This terrified The Super so much he dropped Octo, and the creature dropped to the ground with a grunt. Had he really changed that much? Had he become a stranger to himself? It had only been a few years... Years that The Super had lost count of. How long had it been, again? Ten years? He was slipping, and he'd known it for some time, but that didn't stop him from acting as the hero he thought he should be. He didn't want to give up. Not yet. There was always hope; at least, that's what he used to tell himself to keep going, back before he became a big-shot hero, back when he struggled with even the simplest of crimes. Life seemed so simple back then, even with the setbacks. If something needed doing back then, he could do it without having to clear it first. That seemed so far away... like a dream he couldn't quite remember all of. He remembered how it used to feel, becoming a new hero; but not much of what he'd done. Gosh darn it, he really was slipping.
The Super crouched down to look at Octo. His eyes were closed, and for one terrifying second The Super thought he was dead. Then he saw the octopus' chest slowly rise and sink, and he relaxed. The Blue Octo was still alive. The next step: re-hydration.
The Super reached down and looped his arms around The Blue Octo's torso, and slowly took flight, ascending carefully as he thought. He had become a stranger to himself, and it didn't feel good. It felt... hollow. Something was missing, something he'd missed because he hadn't been thinking about it. But now that he focused... there was definitely a hole there. He wondered what used to go there...
The Super sped forward, reaching the top of the plateau in record time. He touched down to the ground, and Rose and Cassandra turned. "Who's that?" asked Rose, looking at the limp figure of The Blue Octo. "Oh, my God! Is he hurt?" She stood up from the rock she'd been sitting on and hurried over to The Blue Octo's side.
Cassandra glared at The Super. "Why's he here?" she asked pointedly.
"Wait," said The Super, "you know who this is?"
"Yeah," said Cassandra. "The blue octopus guy. The one you're always fighting."
"Didn't you say you were from another dimension?" asked The Super.
"Yeah."
"So how do you know who this is? Even if your data is a little off, I mean, his face hasn't even seen daylight in years, and he hasn't fought me for twice as long – but still, not even Rose or Alfonso knows this stuff. No one does. So how can you, a person who's never even seen me before yesterday, know so much about my past?" concluded The Super.
Cassandra stared at her feet, her face turning red.
"To be fair, I'm from another dimension, too," interjected Rose, who was somewhere behind The Super reviving the dehydrated octopus.
Cassandra looked up for half a second, then her eyes darted back down. Wait, was that...? It was! She'd just looked at Rose for collaboration! The Super turned to look at Rose kneeling by The Blue Octo behind him, just as she turned back to her work. Hm... something fishy was going on here.
"I dunno why," Cassandra finally said.
The Super scrunched up his face for a second, debating whether or not to address this secret they were so obviously keeping. He'd worked so hard to hide his past. In the kind of hero business he had somehow gotten into, anything from your past could destroy your future. He couldn't take that chance, because even if he didn't plan to stay like this forever, the past shouldn't determine the future. The Super chose to have no past, so that to figure out his future, they'd have to look at the hero standing in front of them, not the one who rescued damsels in distress fifteen years ago.
The Super decided to let it slide; his career was already falling apart at the seams, and they had bigger problems to address. The Blue Octo was waking up.
"Now," said The Super, "Tell us why you're here."
Hey, guys. Sorry it's been so long. It's just that... stuff happened. I don't really want to talk about it. Basically it took me almost two weeks to write this, and I hate having it drag out for so long. I'll do my best to prevent it from now on, I promise.
This post went really long, and I didn't get to write the stuff I wanted to. But I had to cut it short or else it would be another week before you guys got anything. So I'll write it in the next post. You'll get it sometime during the week of the fifth.
Random note: The movie, The Boxtrolls? Really, really, cool. I recommend it.
That's all I can think of for now. I'm really tired. See you in the next post.
~PolarFarina
P.S. Try to guess why this chapter's called "Haunting." I'll do something special if you do, maybe even draw up a new Randomness of it All comic... *wink wink* Seriously, though, you guys are awesome. Thanks for just being here.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Sick
Hi, guys... Sorry there hasn't been much going on this past week or so. See, I'm sick with a sinus infection. It might not sound so bad, but whenever I get sick, my brain function sort of deteriorates, and I start forgetting things, like, to eat food, or take showers, or that I shouldn't be sleeping 20 hours a day. So I sort of forgot about updating this blog for a while.
Don't worry, though! I am working on something, but it might be a couple more days before I get it published. I've only been able to write a paragraph or so before forgetting what I was writing about. I'm getting a little bit better, but you'll still have to wait. Sorry about that.
But the good news that you should take away from all this is that I'm working, and that you should expect another chapter soon. It's already running a bit longer than I intended it to, so you know it's going to be good.
Thanks for hanging in there. I'm going to sleep.
~PolarFarina
Don't worry, though! I am working on something, but it might be a couple more days before I get it published. I've only been able to write a paragraph or so before forgetting what I was writing about. I'm getting a little bit better, but you'll still have to wait. Sorry about that.
But the good news that you should take away from all this is that I'm working, and that you should expect another chapter soon. It's already running a bit longer than I intended it to, so you know it's going to be good.
Thanks for hanging in there. I'm going to sleep.
~PolarFarina
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Chapter Eleven: Hoax
"How much longer are we going to be out here?" asked Alfonso. He shielded his eyes as he looked across the desert. "I can't see anything for miles. Why do we even think they're still out here?"
"Just because we can't see anything doesn't mean it's not there," said the Super. "Mirages can still stop us from actually seeing the truth."
Actually seeing the truth? thought Alfonso. Is this guy for real? Alfonso kept thinking as he dragged his feet across the dry, cracked ground. He had a hard time believing that The Super had become such a big hero. Then again, the media will believe anything these days... It could just be a hoax. A really good hoax, but still. The Super just didn't have the same glow a real hero would have. He wasn't very courageous, and was totally oblivious to everything that wasn't centered around him. But it felt a little forced, so maybe he wasn't all bad. Still, Alfonso didn't like it.
And that Cassandra girl? He didn't think it was just coincidence that she had the same "powers" as The Super. She probably didn't have any powers at all, and was just fantasizing. I mean, come on, thought Alfonso, what are the odds of it just being coincidence?
"Wait..." said The Super. "Hang on... what is that?" In the distance, but not quite at the horizon, a hazy spot seemed to be moving very, very slowly toward them. Alfonso tried to squint through the haze, but his eyesight wasn't quite good enough to figure out what it was. The Super's probably would be, if all the rumors were true.
"Is that...?" started The Super, squinting hard. He seemed to be double-checking.
"What? 'Is that' what?" asked Alfonso, following The Super's line of sight. He hoped the "hero" wasn't playing tricks. He had seemed pretty jumpy on the Jeep ride out here. He'd looked everywhere at once, his legs restlessly bouncing up and down. Alfonso found his behavior rather erratic, and hard to predict.
The Super stopped squinting, his face contorting into an angry frown.
"I am going to kill that octopus," he growled between clenched teeth.
"An octo–" started Alfonso, but he was interrupted by the huge torrent of wind created by The Super's flight. Alfonso stood alone, watching the blob of the flying hero turn into a dot, and then a speck, as The Super caught up to whoever it was that he had to kill.
"Huh," said Alfonso. "So it's not an elaborate lie. Cool."
He started walking again. Gotta catch up somehow, he thought. A good lie is maintained consistently, after all. Can't have them catching on, now can we?
Hi! This one's a bit short 'cause I need to change perspectives. I'm trying to keep it less confusing by keeping it down to one perspective per chapter, and so far it's worked pretty well. So I'm going to keep doing it.
So yeah. School is school. I have homework. Deal with it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another post to write as fast as possible.
PolarFarina
"Just because we can't see anything doesn't mean it's not there," said the Super. "Mirages can still stop us from actually seeing the truth."
Actually seeing the truth? thought Alfonso. Is this guy for real? Alfonso kept thinking as he dragged his feet across the dry, cracked ground. He had a hard time believing that The Super had become such a big hero. Then again, the media will believe anything these days... It could just be a hoax. A really good hoax, but still. The Super just didn't have the same glow a real hero would have. He wasn't very courageous, and was totally oblivious to everything that wasn't centered around him. But it felt a little forced, so maybe he wasn't all bad. Still, Alfonso didn't like it.
And that Cassandra girl? He didn't think it was just coincidence that she had the same "powers" as The Super. She probably didn't have any powers at all, and was just fantasizing. I mean, come on, thought Alfonso, what are the odds of it just being coincidence?
"Wait..." said The Super. "Hang on... what is that?" In the distance, but not quite at the horizon, a hazy spot seemed to be moving very, very slowly toward them. Alfonso tried to squint through the haze, but his eyesight wasn't quite good enough to figure out what it was. The Super's probably would be, if all the rumors were true.
"Is that...?" started The Super, squinting hard. He seemed to be double-checking.
"What? 'Is that' what?" asked Alfonso, following The Super's line of sight. He hoped the "hero" wasn't playing tricks. He had seemed pretty jumpy on the Jeep ride out here. He'd looked everywhere at once, his legs restlessly bouncing up and down. Alfonso found his behavior rather erratic, and hard to predict.
The Super stopped squinting, his face contorting into an angry frown.
"I am going to kill that octopus," he growled between clenched teeth.
"An octo–" started Alfonso, but he was interrupted by the huge torrent of wind created by The Super's flight. Alfonso stood alone, watching the blob of the flying hero turn into a dot, and then a speck, as The Super caught up to whoever it was that he had to kill.
"Huh," said Alfonso. "So it's not an elaborate lie. Cool."
He started walking again. Gotta catch up somehow, he thought. A good lie is maintained consistently, after all. Can't have them catching on, now can we?
Hi! This one's a bit short 'cause I need to change perspectives. I'm trying to keep it less confusing by keeping it down to one perspective per chapter, and so far it's worked pretty well. So I'm going to keep doing it.
So yeah. School is school. I have homework. Deal with it.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another post to write as fast as possible.
PolarFarina
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