“The shell must break before the bird can fly.”Majority rules:
Glee auditions theater
============ SARAH BANNINGS ============
January 28, 2013
Sarah slowly creaked the door open, peeking through the tiny slit it made to get a look into the theater. It was definitely empty, and the lights were all shut off. After double (and even triple) checking, the girl pushed the door all the way open, and Aoka scampered in, tail wagging furiously.
"Ooh! Up on the stage! Don't wanna scratch up these neat little cushion chairs!"
Sarah giggled as she followed the mysterious corgi, who panted the entire run to the stage. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, not quite sure what Aoka's insistence on trying out these "powers" entailed, she couldn't think of what to do or say.
"Okay, Miss Sarah!" Aoka called, standing in the center of the stage. It was quite the adorable little sight. The tiny, energetic little dog standing in the middle of the floor, staring out into the house. As Sarah ascended the stairs, she located the light switch and flicked one on, just to give her an easier time seeing. "Are you ready?"
The girl just shrugged. "I guess so...What are we-?"
The dog interrupted her by beginning to race circles around her, over and over and over again. Sarah's initial confusion soon turned to intrigued glee as Aoka began to let out little yelps, barks, and pants on his run. If she had been somewhat musically-inclined and paid close attention, she might have noticed that Aoka's "chanting" was actually a song.
And that was when Sarah felt an odd, sharp, yet painless sensation in her brain.
============ GEORGE LOUIS ============
February 2, 2013
Chloe S. Young Park
So...like...what the the the the the do I do?
Do you feel any different?
George thought about it for a minute. His head didn't hurt; in fact, he didn't feel any pain at all. Didn't notice anything on the visible areas of his body. Voice wasn't any different. Didn't hurt to walk around in a circle. Hm...wait....
What? What is it?!?
...Nevermind. Just a fart.
George snickered as he heard the Earth sigh in annoyance. After getting that off of his chest (and out of his bowels), he shrugged and stood there rather awkwardly. No. Don't feel anything.
Oh... This time, the Earth let out a sigh of relief. Don't scare me like that!
Can you just tell me what you did? And why...why wasn't that song-?
As he began to rant on with his questions, George threw up his hands in exasperation. He heard the Earth let out a gentle laugh as George's hands released two vertical gusts of wind, rustling the branches overhead and cutting leaves from it.
George slowly looked upward to the branches hanging over him. He looked down at his hands, observing every inch of them. Wait was that you or-?
No. It was all you, George.
...You're just screwing with me.
What? No, I mean it. Try it again! Just take in a deep breath and-
George quickly shut his eyes and stabbed his hands upward. He felt his heart stop as two more gusts burst vertically, shaking the branches again and dislodging even more leaves.
Well...you feel like trying it out some more?
============ DAMIEN MARSHALL ============
January 24, 2013
Damien opened and closed his hands, marveling at the sight presented to him. His hands had indeed combined with the scrap meta he had inadvertently touched, but they didn't really feel any different.
He then held his hands out in front of him, palms facing down. He exhaled and willed his hands to disconnect from the metal, just as he had done a few times before. Sure enough, the black-and-white sparks raced around his wrist before the metal moved to his palms, almost like water. In a flash, two flat pieces of metal dropped onto the floor, and Damien's hands were back to normal.
* * *
Rodney Duncan Auto Repair Shop
"Oh, hey Dame," Vincent greeted. He removed his welding mask, rubbing his hands on a nearby rag. "Sup? Thought you called in sick today."
Damien nodded and confirmed that he had, peeking over Vincent's shoulder. Vincent laughed. "Rodney ain't in today. You good."
"Aight, thanks." Damien exhaled, looking down at the ground, his shoes, then the car Vincent was working on. It was the Camaro that he himself was fixing up the other day. "Look, man, I gotta tell you somethin'."
Vincent shrugged, nodding. "Aight. What is it?"
"No you gotta gimme your word you ain't gon say sh*t to nobody."
"Aight. Got my word. Is it serious?"
Damien nodded, once again looking around the auto shop. He pushed on Vincent's shoulder, leading him to Rodney's office, where the most privacy was guaranteed.
Vincent leaned against Rodney's desk, eyebrow raised. "Definitely serious. Is somethin' wrong?"
Damien nodded, then shook his head. He then nodded again before cutting himself off and shrugging. "Aight it's like...it's like...Aight the other day...Y'know, when I cut out early."
"Did you do somethin' illegal? Dame I'm not-"
"No. Sit yo こし down and lemme talk." Damien was showing signs of nervousness and uncertainty. His body was bobbing around, and to try to calm himself, he paced around the office, rubbing his hand on his chin. Should he tell him? What would Vincent do? They didn't know each other all that well.
But even then, Vincent was still the closest thing to a friend Damien had.
Finding it far too difficult to tell, he decided to show instead. He excused himself and grabbed a small sheet of metal from the garage, returning to Vincent's increased questioning. Without answering, Damien set the metal down onto the desk, and flattened his palms against it.
The black-and-white sparks jumped from his wrists, and crawled around each of his fingers in half a second. Once done, Damien lifted his hands up. They had taken on the properties of the metal he had just touched, which was nowhere in sight.
Vincent almost fainted.
There will be no voting for this post. Voting will resume with the next update.