Superhero--11Chapter 11Superhero--114 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"A World without Bellicose".
As soon as Bellicose was safe inside her apartment, she pulled off her clothes and locked herself in her bedroom.
She turned around in front of her full-length mirror, twisting awkwardly to see every scrap of skin on her body in the mirror. She'd been beaten with a crowbar and had nothing but a few ruined articles of clothing to show for it. That couldn't be right. She'd seen enough movies where crowbars were instruments of serious bodily harm to know better. She searched desperately for a mark on her body, a scar or a discoloration that would show she was, in fact, human.
She found no such proof.
Bellicose stepped away from the mirror and pressed her hands to her mouth. She stared hungrily at her reflection. She balled her hand into a fist and swallowed her pride. "I am not overreacting," she hissed, and slammed her fist into the mirror, burying her knuckles in glass. When she pulled her hand away, she stared at her fingers expectan
Superhero--1His parachute wouldn't open. When the ripcord came away in his hand, he had forced himself not to panic just yet. There was a back-up.Superhero--14 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
He yanked on the second cord and that came away in his hand as well. He stared at the bright yellow cord, both ends flapping in the wind.
He was approaching terminal velocity, he knew.
The flesh was rippling on his face and his hair was being dragged out of his scalp and his eyes were forced open, tears flying into the empty sky.
Earth was so very, very far below. At this height, even landing in a swimming pool or a giant marshmallow wouldn't save him. He'd splatter on impact like an egg dropped from the Chrysler building. Maybe he should have ignored Mom and stayed on the plane. Well, no chance of that now. Twisting around in midair, he caught sight of the burning wreckage far away and below him. It would reach the ground before he did.
He decided he was perfectly in his right to panic. He screamed and cried and thrashed but he couldn't slow down his f
Superhero--3Chapter 3Superhero--34 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Tosh swiveled around on his bar stool and checked his cellphone. The nightclub was full to capacity already, just thirty minutes after opening. Jitterbug had every patron dancing the Thriller while the lights strobed. Thanks to Reverb, much of the noise stayed on the dance floor while the bar and booths were relatively quiet.
"Baptiste!" Michel clattered over in heels and a minidress, breathless. She slapped her tray down on the counter. "I need three Appletinisone cider, one apple Vodka, one half of eachone Pink Snowman, one Pink Squirrel, and A Fuzzy Thing with extra Schnapps." Baptiste nodded and set to work. Michel took the chance to collapse on a stool at the bar. Freefall spared her barely a look before looking down at his phone again.
"He's not here yet." He grumbled.
"Ngh. Who?" Mumu raised her head from the bar.
"The guy you said was coming. Spike or whatever." Freefall said.
"Shrike." The waitress corrected. "What time is it?"
Superhero--6Chapter 6Superhero--64 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Every second Sunday, Aqua Vitae hosted a dance class.
Hipsters who didn't know how to gyrate or shimmy properly made reservations months in advance to pay fifty dollars to be allowed into the club on a Sunday afternoon to learn how to not embarrass themselves utterly.
Jitterbug had twenty students standing in rows on the dance floor, lowering inhibitions and making people less self-conscious. She was clapping her hands to the beat of one of her latest remixes, illustrating how the rhythm worked and how one should use it. Freefall and Reverb stood at the ends of the rows, eliciting giggles and greater effort.
Baptiste was at his usual place, despite the early hour. Free non-alcoholic drinks came with the dance class. Sunday was also the day that they restocked, and even Bellicose had come in to help move boxes and take inventory. Michel sat at the bar in casual jeans and a tee shirt, keeping track of everything.
Freefall was out on the dance floor helping Jitterbug "tea
The True ArtistThe true artist is a very, very fragile soul. They may not look it or act it, but they break easily when it comes to their forte. The writer would sooner die than show you what writings they have in progress, the drawer would feel as if they had been invaded if someone went through any of their sketchbooks.The True Artist7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
The sketchbook or journal is the soul. The very heart of the artist and if someone should even dare to touch it, the artist would wither and their gift would die. It would be something like if someone reached into your chest and ripped out your heart, pawing through the chambers and then shoving it back at you, saying, I dont like your style. I didnt understand this bit, either. Who is he? Is she his girlfriend?
No one understands the art but the artist. Do not attempt to even fathom what goes through their mind. Theyre not you. You cant even begin to imagine what inspires them, what makes them tick. They are a person and deserve the
Superhero--4Chapter 4Superhero--44 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
For the first in a long time, Bidan Dawn was comfortable. As a professional gopher, chances to get comfortable were rare and usually involved napping on the plane between jobs. Though first class was a lot better than coach, a real couch was better than a pleather seat. Especially when said couch had a fuzzy throw blanket tossed over it made of plush microfiber that conformed to the shape of his body. Though being young, handsome, and suave got him into many a comfy bed, he still preferred this couch in his foster sister's apartment.
The electric fireplace was going, flame graphics lending the dark room a happy glow. Bidan stretched luxuriously and closed his eyes. He lazily swirled the remains of a fine Merlot in one of the Italian Burgundy glasses he'd given Bellicose for her nineteenth birthday. He liked the fine things in life, to be sure. He wore Armani suits like most people wore tee-shirts and jeans. Salvatore Ferragamo like flip-flops, silk underwear like cotton Fruit
Superhero--10Michel polished the marble bar-top for the fifteenth time since he had gotten there. Baptiste finally sighed and pried the towel from Michel's hands. "It's clean," he said. Mumu grasped desperately for the towel before the bartender hid it behind the bar. Michel sat down on a stool and slumped over onto the bar. The cool marble felt good against his forehead.Superhero--104 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The club was closed. Too much had happened that day for business to go as usual for the Supers. All the local Supers had gathered in the booths near the bar, talking softly and drinking, some in uniform and some not. "I can't take this. I'm so worried, I'm beyond worried," Michel said. His hands tightened convulsively on the counter. "My body's going to burst-"
"In a feely good way or a feely bad way?" Tosh nodded in greeting to a few Supers and plopped down on the stool next to Michel. Michel shifted anxiously on his stool.
"Feel...y... bad. And why didn't you answer my phone call!" Michel said. He shot out a fist and