*It's a cold winter eve on the lonely streets. One such structure, a disheveled looking building right in the middle of the town, stands out amongst the town with it's eerie appearance. Through the frost-covered windows, we enter a dimly lit room, illuminated by the pale moon light. Walking across the light, a shadowy figure looms through the darkness. Pacing the floor is at most an unusual old man with a look of depression on his face. Course one could hardly read his expression, as most of his face was covered by his long white hair. Lifting his hair back reveals an eye patch over his right eye, though how that happened he'd never tell and nobody knew. One would never guess that such an old fellow like this one is a famous clock-maker and magician, especially at the prime of his youth. This was the man known by many as Herr Drosselmeyer. On this evening, Drosselmeyer was up and about putting the finishing touch on his latest creation: A Toy Castle, the bigges
*It was a typical early afternoon in New York City, it's streets busy with heavy lines of traffic and the bustling of crowds going about their daily lives. On this very day, a tall teenage boy was walking down the sidewalk amongst crowds and crowds of busy New Yorkers going about their daily lives. The boy had dark brown hair, wore a black Greek Fisherman's cap, a pair of black sunglasses, a long black coat, and turtleneck shirt. His name was Robert Willis and he was en route to meet a particular individual amongst New York's busy crowd. Turning a corner, he came across another teenager, about an inch shorter than him, leaning on a traffic post. A rather pale teenager, he had scraggly black hair that matched the black shirt with a white skull on the front, a spiked collar around his neck, black wrist bands, nearly a dozen belts around his pants, and a pair of black shoes with spikes on top. This was Chris Christie, Robert's best friend, someone
Narrator: Many eons ago, before the race of man walked across the vastness of the Earth, there was once the Titans - the children of Earth and Sky. Taller than the highest mountains, the Titans ruled over all with an iron fist - but none were worse than their king; Cronus, who murdered his father to take his throne and power above all. But in time, his rule was challenged by that of his son; Zeus, the future Lord of Olympus, who gained allies from three other great gods from lands afar. What occurred then was a fierce battle that shook creation to its very core, the earth rumbled from the struggle while the sky turned blood red. But in the end, the four gods emerged victorious, slaying Cronus and banishing the Titans to the deep infernal pits of Tartarus, the fiery prison of the underworld. But however, this was only half of the war to come… Enraged at the treatment of her children, Gaia; the Earth manifest, swore to avenge this w
Grandma Williams: *hands Jermaine a platter full of deviled eggs* Here, baby, place these on the table. Who knows, maybe one of your friends has an exquisite taste for my famous deviled eggs.
Jermaine: Sure thing, grandma. *takes the tray* This was a great idea to have my friends over for dinner. I only hope we have enough for them.
Grandma Williams: Shoot, I didn't win the city bake-off ten years straight for nothing, now! Yo, Commandramon, get your tin plated butt in here and help me with the corn bread!!
Commandramon: *runs downstairs* Yes ma'am! *thinking* Oh boy, her cornbread is the best.
Grandma Williams: Hmm, five seconds. You beat your own record, honey!
Commandramon: Always trying to be the best I can be, ma'am. So I'll just go get the tray and bring them to the t
On an open road, alongside the number of cars passing through, a seventeen foot U-Haul truck passed a road sign that read 'Fleming Welcomes You. Population: 35000". On the side of this truck, it read '#83 Venture Across America Michigan, 37 Acre "Humongous Fungus"'. Along the picture were four giant mushrooms in a forest, its roots buried deep in the ground.
As the moving van made its way through Fleming, a quiet little town where every neighbor knew each other, it was not alone as two other vehicles led the way. At the very front was a silver 2011 Highlander Toyota, slightly aged yet still in working order. In between the two vehicles was a more modern, cherry red mid-size 2004 Camaro Their arrival drew the attention of several townspeople, who could tell from a glance that some new homeowners were coming. One even waved hello to their new neighbors, the only response came from the passenger in the Highlander. A feminine hand by the look of it.
Inside the Camaro, a young man
*Among the many places in the city was Gainsboro High School, a place most teenagers considered living hell. One of them was a boy named Devon McConnell, a boy who had absolutely no interest in Pokémon. He was tall with blue-green eyes, brown hair, along with a small soul patch under his lip, and was dressed in a gray sleeveless t-shirt, a red coat with brown fur trimming, black fingerless gloves, dark gray cargo pants, and a pair of dark red and black tennis shoes. He held a bored and perhaps exhausted look upon his