Jance and Paxton

"This is a science fiction story about people with psychic powers. This was really just an excuse to write Jance's "Sixth Sense" power in narrative rather than script as I usually do. His powers are just so much fun!" -Casey

Jance felt every muscle in his body tense. Adrenaline was already pumping through his system, but his mind was drawing a blank. There was no order to run, to duck, or even to move in anyway. He glanced around frantically for any sign of danger, but everything on the street looked perfectly normal. There were hardly any people walking around and those that were looked harmless enough.
Jance turned and started to walk back the way he had come. Maybe once he regrouped with his friends, he'dbe able to figure this out. He had to work hard to control his breathing and keep himself from running. There was no need to break into a panicked sprint and make himself look like a crazy person. As he walked, the feeling of foreboding only grew stronger. Jance was sure that whatever the danger was, it was closing in on him. He feared that if he turned his back, he would come face to face with whatever it was that was after him.

Stop! Stop! Stop!

Jance froze in place, not willing to take another step. The alleyway up ahead to his left had triggered that warning, no doubt about it. Was someone in there waiting for him to walk by? Had his sixth sense been thrown out of whack for something as harmless as a mugger?

Run!

His mind was now screaming at him to run, but hadn't it just told him not to move? The mixed message made Jance hesitate for only a second, but that was the only opening his attacker needed. Jance was suddenly grabbed from behind and shoved against the cement wall of a building as a blaster was shoved in his face. "Hello, Cheever," purred the voice of his attacker. "You've gotten rather slow since our last encounter."
Jance was being pinned by his right arm with his attacker's elbow digging into his chest. He could have struggled free easily enough if it weren't for the blaster in his face. He could actually feel his opponent's finger squeezing on the trigger dangerously close to misfiring the weapon through Jance's forehead. Jance forced his mind to focus on not the barrel of the blaster, but the attacker. He was probably in his late teens, tall, thin, but not scrawny. He was dressed all in leather with a long black coat, his skin was pale (almost pasty), his long black hair was combed back, and his dark green eyes blazed yellow at their rims. "Walk towards the alleyway," the man demanded. "Make a sound and I will kill you were you stand."

Jance and Paxton (C) SuperheroGeek13

Athol - Captured and Gold

"If I have to cut this scene from Athol, I'm going to cry. It's one of my favorite scenes from the second volume, mostly because Perditus is in such a ridiculous situation." -Casey

Perditus was roughly shoved into the dirt, landing on his hands and knees. He was now at eye level with another wrinkly faced dwarf that glared at him from underneath bushy eyebrows. The creature crossed its arms and shot a glance at the dwarf that had knocked Perditus over. The other dwarf nodded and then yanked the boy’s cap from his head, revealing his long pointed ears.

“We don’t get many elves this far underground,” the dwarf before him chuckled, his voice rough and hard to make out.

“I didn’t mean to trespass,” Perditus began to explain, not daring to lift his head any higher than the dwarf’s for fear of angering him. “I was only looking for a place to hide.”

The dwarf laughed heartily at this and as he did, so did the other dwarves in the cavern. “Well done, boy,” the dwarf breathed. “You could scarcely find a better place to hide. No one’ll ever find ya down here.”

***

“Elves can use magic, can’t they?” the dwarf asked, in more the way of a statement of the obvious than a question.

“Yes…” Perditus answered cautiously.

“Then you can be of use,” the dwarf explained as he held up a dirty black stone the size of his own head. “Change this rock to gold with your magic.”

Perditus glanced from the stone to the dwarf at a loss for words, his expression becoming puzzled and panicked. The dwarf stepped forward to grab a hold of Perditus’ shirt and yank him downward to look him in the eye. “Can’t elves turn straw into gold?” he growled. “Can’t elves command waters to run and lightning to strike?!”

“Yes, yes, but---”

“We don’t want excuses! We want our gold!”

“Yes, of course I can do it!” Perditus shouted, causing the dwarf to release him. The elf straightened his shirt and stared hesitantly at the rock that was being offered to him again. He took it in one hand, never taking his eyes off it. The dwarves watched dubiously and the chief tapped his foot impatiently as Perditus did nothing.

“Do you lie to us, elf?” he asked slowly.

“No, no, I wouldn’t dare,” Perditus assured him, not taking his eyes off the rock. “This is how it’s done, you see.”

The chief furrowed his brow at this response. “What are you talking about?”

Perditus now took the rock firmly in both hands and held it before his face as if he could see through the thing. “Transforming a rock into something as precious as gold takes time,” the boy explained absently, keeping his eyes on the rock. “I have to stare at this for hours and work from its inside out. Otherwise, it might turn to pyrite.”

Perditus narrowed his eyes, and began muttering something in Gaelic that the dwarves couldn’t understand. The chief glared at the elf in annoyance and then waved the other dwarves off.

“Fine,” the chief said. “You’ve got an hour to finish your spell. For your sake, I hope you’re not lying.”

Perditus hardly paid the chief any mind as he continued to stare at the rock, not daring to blink as he muttered over and over again, “God, please let Ciar find me soon.”

Characters and Story (C) SuperheroGeek13

Doctor Who Crossover (Part 2)

"If the last snippet of this story didn't confuse you, than I'm sure this one will do the trick. Enjoy!" -Casey

On the streets of London, beside a news stand outside the underground tunnel system and across from "Gregg's Cafe" appeared a blue police call box. It faded into sight with a "vworp, vworp, vworp" sound, but no one seemed to take any notice of it. The wooden doors swung open, nearly hitting a passerby that was looking down at her cellphone. "Hey!" she shouted, not even bothering to look up at the man that had almost hit her. She continued on as the man stared after her, shaking his head.
"You see, this is why I don't push the doors open," the man whispered, wagging his finger at the police box as he stepped out of it. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings with his mouth hanging open and his dark brown hair hanging down in his face. There was a spark, a wave of energy emanating from the box and then the door slammed shut of its own accord. The man spun around on his heels, watching wide eyed as the box began to fade out of existence again.
"What are you doing?" the man shouted as he grabbed a hold of the door handle. "What's the matter with you?! Stop!"
The handle of the door was now completely transparent and the man's hand slipped right through it. He reached out to put his hands against the doors, but he simply fell through them too, stumbling forward into the street. A car screeched to a halt in order to avoid running over the man as he sat in the street staring up in disbelief at the empty space where the blue box had been.
The car honked and the man scrambled to his feet, straightening his brown jacket as he did so. He was on the sidewalk again, gaining stares and whispers from the people on the streets. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small probe with a glowing green light above it. It buzzed with a mechanical hum as the man pointed it left and then right.
"Oooh, that's a bit less than good," he murmured. "Something's off about this London. Very off. Completely off!"
"Hey! You there!" called a voice. The man looked up from his device and noticed a young woman running up to him, her curly light golden brown hair bouncing behind her.
"I know a sonic device when I see one," she insisted. "Where'd you get that?"
"What do you know about sonic devices?" the man mused, squinting his light blue eyes at the girl.
"Enough to know that one sonic disruption from this device will make yours useless," she shouted as she pulled a small tube of lipstick from her pocket. "Now tell me where you got it! What've you done with the Doctor?"
The man stared at her blankly though he shuffled his feet as he did so. "That's an interesting question," he stated. "Really weird, even by my standards, but interesting. Could be a bit complicated to explain too."
"Do it anyway," she scoffed. "And don't patronize me because people are in danger and I'm not happy."
The man smiled, his face lighting up with recognition. "Sally Sparrow!" he exclaimed, dropping his cool demeanor and putting away his sonic probe. "Well, look at you! This make the first time we've met since that whole trapped in 1969 business. Which I should thank you for now that I know what it was all about. Thank you. That was all very clever of you."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. "How could you know about that? Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor," he smirked, holding his suspenders gauntly.
The young woman simply shook her head. "You're not the Doctor," she said. "You don't look a thing like him!"
"Yes, the new face, new hair, new everything really," the man puzzled. "That was a lifetime ago."
"You don't look a thing like his last regeneration either," she nearly snarled with her eyes narrowed.
"I don't?"
"No! He was much older than you! Salt and pepper hair and no such ridiculous bow-ties!"
"So...not me."
"No, not you. Now are you going to tell me the truth or not?"
"I am telling you the truth," he assured her calmly. "I'm the Doctor and I've just lost my TARDIS. And now you come in here, sonic lipstick at the ready, and say that you're looking for the Doctor and he's not me. So tell me, Sally Sparrow, where is your Doctor?"

Characters (C) The BBC

Story (C) SuperheroGeek13

Writer's Block Vean

Or perhaps I should call this one "Writer's Guilt."

 Vean is an character I made up for a spin-off of The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker (as I'm sure you can tell by his appearance). He's Link's twin brother, which seemed like such an original idea when I was thirteen.

This character is a real failure as a hero at first, given his overpowering sense of self-preservation and pacifistic nature. Thus, when the character refuses to meet the plot, the plot must rush to meet the character. Resulting in a lot of trouble for Vean, no matter how hard he tries to stay out of trouble.

Another thing to note; writing smaller doesn't stop people from reading over your shoulder.

Vean (C) SuperheroGeek13