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.)
Saturday, November 29, 2014
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
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