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The Graffiti Revolutionists :iconsarahowen97:sarahowen97 21 27 Bring It :iconsarahowen97:sarahowen97 11 17 Dust to dust :iconsarahowen97:sarahowen97 12 8 WE ARE FIRE :iconsarahowen97:sarahowen97 10 12 I Am An Outcast - Meditullio Society Notes :iconsarahowen97:sarahowen97 4 5 Keira Kanterra :iconlaurajanearnold:LauraJaneArnold 2 0
Literature
Fuel
    A last quick swig from her bottle of ginger ale, and Blaise pulled the bandana up over her nose and mouth. Soaked in water the damp cloth clung to her mouth. Plug the bottle's opening with a bit of cloth. Chandler had a worn mining respirator pinned to his chest, the mouthpiece flopping lazily by his head. In case of the smoke. Inside a couple of thugs counted their cash. It took them a day to find their car. The idiots that stole it were a load easier, the used car dealer they'd dumped it on had practically served them up on a platter. Once her Thug did his burny thing. They'd got their car back. Drove out to this little shack in the middle of nowhere.
“I mean it's like we’re being rewarded. No bystanders, no collateral, nice and empty, dirt path so no wildfire. I went and doused some of the grass just in case.”
“Good things come to those who wait, Burnout.”
“If you say so, uh, wanna do the thing?”
He gave a thumbs up, and l
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Literature
Rainy Days and Hidden Haunts, Part 1
    A lone vehicle, more akin to a minivan than a plane or boat, but a ship nonetheless, coasted to a stop on the roof, window wipers furiously trying to clear the glass. Its engine lowered from gentle hum to a whisper matched by the fuel tank, a faint blue glow visible along each. A slim figure wrapped in clear plastic hopped out and hastily went for the pump, getting soaked in the process. A little glass panel started to fill with luminous blue. Slowly.
Squeezing in through a door held open just enough to let in all the rain, she let out an exasperated sigh. 
The young man in the driver's seat shouted over the rain drumming into the ship's side "Sparrow, is it STILL RAINING?"
The teen had to peel her hood off. "Funny, next time you're going out there."
"Couldn't you just, y'know, poof."
"Would you run in this? Would you jump in this? Because just suddenly appearing on a slick, wet metal surface is my idea of fun. How soon can we be out of here?"
He turned his head
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Literature
The Kanterran Chronicler, Paul
    Paul loathed his "employers",  he'd caught their attention a few weeks back, saving a bystander who'd caught a bullet in one of their hits. Someone had seen the man's shoulder fix itself up and took note, and soon the gang had scooped him up and set him to work patching up hoodlums. Paul wasn't ready for this. He'd been taking first aid classes, reading up on anatomy, and yet he was still unsure about his power. He sold himself short, told them it was just healing. People a little higher up had caught attention, and then they had him moved down by the docks, stitching up whoever they put in front of him. It wasn't healing, he could tell their bodies to do what he wanted. Heal faster, make new tissue, and their last doctor was kept around to clean the wounds and take out any shrapnel. He'd been a nice man once, nobody takes the oath if they intend to wind up like this, but he'd overheard some of the muscle mention that the guy had taken a few
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Merry Christmas :iconlaurajanearnold:LauraJaneArnold 0 0 Just try it - Keira Kanterra - :iconlaurajanearnold:LauraJaneArnold 1 0
Literature
The Kanterran Chronicler, Paul II
    Paul was half asleep, watching a half-dead girl. And as his head began to roll, and his eyes flickered, someone else's opened. She made to get up, but stopped when she heard the ringing of the chains that held her arm down. Somebody snored. The guard looked young. Glasses, scruffy looking, hadn't been keeping himself clean. Recent though, like a layer of grime over someone more used to comfort. More importantly, he hadn't heard her move. Probably meant she wasn't a guest though, from the look of the bars on the room, the bindings on her arm. Smelled horrible. She couldn't remember being captured. She slowly made to move, readied herself for the sudden change in position, pictured herself on the other side of the room, standing beyond the steel bars. A sudden and sharp headache cut her off, nothing but sharp pain.  
    She stifled a cry. Oh. She still couldn't.  It had been sudden, the sickness had begun again, as bad
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Literature
Rainy Days and Hidden Haunts, Epilogue
    He'd fallen three stories, and nearly sunk through the fourth, before he been able to bring himself back. He panted madly, not a lick of air until he'd made his lurching stop. Now he dangled, his arm nearly torn out of its socket and his hand half buried in the ceiling, the concrete so cold around his fingers. The edges of the hole in his hand dripped down his sleeve and tickled his forearm. This close to her. It was so hard to think, the air scraped his lungs and the kerit that soaked him burned his skin. Need to clean it off. Can't hold on anymore. He took a deep breath, so hard after that much effort earlier. His arm briefly flickered and he began to drop, before it caught again, the weight pulling at either side of the ragged wound in his palm. He bit down on his tongue and the taste of blood filled his mouth. He wouldn't scream. Wouldn't give that thing the satisfaction. Breath out. Breath in.
No basement beneath the workshop. But the offices had maintenance ben
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Literature
The Kanterran Chronicler, Aaron
    Aaron had been the leader, until yesterday that was, of his own little group of hoodlums. Admittedly what they did was in your grey area, but the kept the REAL bad guys out, right? Somebody else would just make their way into the neighbourhood and let people get away with much worse. Sure they took a few jobs on here or there, but they needed the money  to keep everyone else out of trouble. Now, as he braced himself for the next hack at his arm, he reflected that this job might not be worth the effort. His friends had sold him out when the job went south. Their package had been some kind of weapon, and now it only worked for his hand. That was what the man holding the machete had said after, just before he fitted the tourniquet around his shoulder. Limit the blood flow, keep this as clean as he could. A little jab into his shoulder first. Take a case across town, pick up and drop off. He had to admit that it was something special, he'd never seen
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I promise - Keira Kanterra :iconlaurajanearnold:LauraJaneArnold 0 0
Literature
Rooftop Rumble ''Brought it''
    The deputy foreman stood still, and let his stupid mouth gape open even further, less an o and more an O. Martyn thought back briefly, ruminated on a pencil he'd gotten stuck inside his desk once upon a time, and unclipped a flashlight from his belt. The deputy foreman turned to run. Martyn brought a workboot on the back of his heel, and a heavy blow to the back of... a helpful badge gave the man's name as Frank. Frank shot a horrified look back "Y-yyou're!" Another harsh blow with the light across his forehead. A brief punch to the kidneys, and he was flat to the ground, and then, when he stared up with that same stupid gaping mouth, Martyn Muller (supply relations) forced the flashlight's handle into that hole of worthless noise. And then  suddenly it passed deeper, out the back of his throat, into the ground beneath, with the man just gurgling and widening his eyes. A few workers had come running, wrenches held tightly, scanning this bloody faced maniac."B
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Literature
The Kanterran Chronicler, Martyn
   Martyn had been told he'd need to examine this shipment himself, a show he wasn't delegating everything or trusting the workers too much. After all, the foreman had said, some people could be stealing munitions. The black market was always looking for new toys, and the new compact Laaka-based ammunition cells were worth a pretty penny. A few more conventional barrels in this shipment as well, keep a few of the outer bases running. Martyn had thought it funny that the same man he'd had investigated for corruption would be this interested, the foreman had been ignoring him since the charges had been dropped. The foreman stepped back for a moment.
    Something fell, bursting beside him, showering Martyn in luminous fluid, and he backed away from the ruptured drum that continued to spill into the ground about it. Accident in transit, thank mercy there wasn't an open flame nearby. A second tank came down where he
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Literature
The Kanterran Chronicler, Muller
    Mr. Muller. Mr. Martyn Muller, consultant to Halinghen on behalf of the East Endlyrian Commissariat, manager of the trainyard for supply shipments (his job had degraded into nothing more than looking down the foreman's neck, and he couldn't even do that anymore), desk jockey, miserable Endlyrian technician, sat and brooded. It had been three miserable months since they'd tried to kill him. His co-workers had dumped a fuel drum in an attempt to flatten the suit who'd been dumb enough to push for increased scrutiny on the supply line, and when it missed they'd just settled for intimidation. A rat had been carved into the wall opposite his office as a reminder. He admired the handiwork on it at least. Very clean cuts. Might be the guy's hobby. He didn't exactly sign it. It had been an entire miserable year (near enough) since his employers had informed him of his bro
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Literature
Where there's fire, there's smoke?
Shade
Ordinary people. No weapons carried, so the metal detectors missed the real threat. And then in a flash of light, the three were standing above the crowd, faces hidden hidden behind smiling masks. One of them lifted his hand, and the bank tellers were pulled into the glass. And back. And forward again with a harder impact each time. A man had lunged for one of them, stabbed him with a pocket knife. Just a laugh and this horrible flickering as he snapped his own neck around to look at the idiot who tried to play hero, before unhinging his jaw and swallowing him whole. The final one looked from camera to camera, turning them to watch.

"Jackie, what is this I'm reading?"
The flustered teacher had held her back. Every second the lines for lunch would get longer.
"Well you said write what we thought kinetics would do to the world."
"I said write the sort of societal effects would result from the development of abilities beyond the normal, not to submit some kind of natu
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Literature
From the files of the KNIGHTS, Martyn Muller
Martyn Muller, known aliases include Matthew Muller, Martin Miller, the Haunter of Halingehn, Reget, Sir Real, and Marvin Patrick.
Adult male Endlyrian, brown hair and eyes. Distinctive features include thick eyebrows and an outdated prosthetic hand (left), electrical battery rather than laaka.
Citizenship is East Endlyrian, now revoked.
Fluent in Terran, Endlyrian and Halish.
Kinetic. Abnormal ability set. Mr. Muller is able to  make himself and whatever he is in contact with insubstantial, able to move through other objects while still being observed. From our previous interactions we can confirm that he is able to control what is still solid to him, explaining why he does not simply fall through the floor. Except when he wants to. He is able to discontinue this insubstantiality at a time of his choosing, or after a short duration, usually some 4 or 5 seconds, after he has lost contact with the item. At this point the object will be able to interact with the rest of the world as
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