The Zion City Chronicles 1.2
The Zion City Chronicles 1.2
summary:
In a world of super-powered beings, there are those that use their power for the wellbeing of all, as well as for the protection of justice, the heroes, and the ones that use them to enact despicable deeds, the villains.
Zion City has had its fair share of heroes and villains, all of them memorable in their own ways, but their current hero, one that goes by the name of Shadik, is, in all honesty, a disappointment.
Shadik, scorned by all, must protect Zion City with the help of her new, inexperienced partner while rebuilding her reputation, but something is brewing in Zion City’s shadows. Something evil.
Something that will bring everyone in Zion City down if they get in the way to its goal.
______
Flashpoint ran after the thief, forgoing the use of any vehicle other than her sneaker covered feet. She dodged between the cars in Main Street as the thief cut through it in an attempt to get away from the masked woman.
She'd been lounging in the roof of the City Hall when she'd seen the three police cars in the small town of Swinford drive towards the east side of town. Towards the new jewellery store.
Flashpoint had run after the police cars, her thin sweatshirt, plastic gloves and leggings doing almost nothing to ward off the early autumn breeze, and had soon caught the thief's trail.
The thief had stolen some jewels, most probably to pawn in some shop afterwards or to sell them on the internet, but he wouldn't get the chance to do any of those things, not when Flashpoint was after him.
Flashpoint threw her hand in the thief's direction and after flexing her fingers, activated her power.
With her other hand, she threw a piece of glass towards the fleeing man and focusing all her energy in the action, expanded the glass.
The piece of glass stretched in a manner similar to that of taffy, looking like hot silicone, before growing long enough to wrap itself around the thief.
The strange glass solidified once again, losing its elastic quality as it created a glass cocoon around all of the thief's body, but sparing his head, Flashpoint was not a killer.
Flashpoint grinned. She'd finally mastered one aspect of her power after five months of work and this called for a celebration cupcake.
The police arrived a few minutes later to thank the hero, who had spent the small amount of time discussing with the thief if vegan cupcakes should not be considered cupcakes, and lock the thief up inside their police car so he could receive the necessary legal procedure.
Flashpoint high fived he policemen, who laughed at the young hero's enthusiasm at helping them save the jewels and disappeared into a public bathroom a few blocks away.
Flashpoint stashed her disguise into her backpack, along with the blue wig covering her brown hair, and made sure her bra strap wasn't showing through the yellow knit top she was wearing. Without anyone catching sight of the hero, Flashpoint left the bathroom and lazily strolled through the flower-lined sidewalks of the small town of Raybush, subtly walking east, towards home, and hopefully, dinner.
Flashpoint walked up to the white-painted townhouse, grinning at the way the leafy and flowery vines curled over the walls and around the windows, giving the entire house a bit of a fairytale vibe, and pushed the door open with her hip.
She pulled her sneakers off and put them beside the door, enjoying the feeling of the wooden floor underneath her bare feet, before skipping into the kitchen.
"Mom! I brought cupcakes from Mrs Sprinkle's!"
Flashpoint set the white cardboard box on top of the marble countertop in their kitchen when she caught sight of her mother, a petite woman very similar to her daughter, dressed in a nice house and pants.
This instantly confused Flashpoint, as her mother didn't dress up every day, and she wondered if she'd forgotten her parent's wedding anniversary, that is, until her mother smiled brightly at her and said, "Spencer, you've finally arrived! We've got some guests in the living room, so please put the cupcakes away, for I don't think you brought enough!"
Flashpoint– Spencer nodded and moved the box into the pantry, her mind whirring in confusion. Who could it be? Her mother wouldn't be worried about the insufficient cupcakes if it was anyone they were close to, so then it was someone they didn't now.
But, who?
Spencer crossed her arms and drew her right thumb towards her mouth, meaning to start biting her fingernails, but quickly shook her hands away from herself.
She hesitantly left the kitchen and went into the living room, a bright, colourful room with many windows looking out into their lush backyard and several armchairs and a loveseat placed in front of the large couch. She settled into the armchair adjacent to the one her mother was sitting in and drew her gaze to the man sitting in the couch.
He was tall.
And handsome.
And twentyish years older than her. He wore a slim-fitting suit which complimented his slightly tanned skin tone and made his brown eyes look warmer.
He was flanked by two massive bodyguards standing just behind the couch, though he looked like he could deal with any threats by himself if the barely hidden muscles of his arms were any indication.
He was also telling her smiling mother about a scholarship thing she'd applied to.
Spencer had never done such thing.
"Thank you so much for receiving us in your home, Mrs Bray," the man said with a dazzling white smile that left Spencer's mom's cheeks dusted in pink. "I would really appreciate if you could give me a couple minutes with Spencer to tell her about some of the finer points of what the scholarship entails."
Excusing herself by saying that she would get some tea for the group, Mrs Bray left the group alone in the living room.
Through the dumbstruck haze of being before such a handsome man, Spencer regarded the entourage with the coldest stare she could muster in the presence of such a gorgeous male. "Who are you really?"
The man let a smug grin appear in his spotless face.
"They call me the Chancellor."
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(First)
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stargazing, the smell of earth after it rains, misty mornings by the sea, earl grey tea, lavender, the smell of old books, charcoal drawings, braids, long conversations late at night, quiet afternoons spent listening to music, baking, owls, winter, open windows, getting so absorbed in a book you forget the world exists, snow globes, watching milk swirl into coffee, getting up early to watch the sunrise, the sound of rain on a rooftop as you try to fall asleep, keeping a journal
found family trope: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
found family trope but they’re misfits, outcasts, and criminals: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher just being absolutely...astounded by the amount of knowledge this kid has on not only the socio-economic climate of literally every freaking country but the most freakishly good instincts of how each new politician that comes along is going to fare. It’s at the point he now has a secret cabinet of sticky notes on Alex’s off hand comments of each new public figure because God Dammit he always turns out to be right.
Give me Alex’s Riders politics teacher who stands up for him against others in the staff room because his essays provide the freshest viewpoints he’s seen in over 20 years. Ethics, politics, morality, social structures, negotiations, public figures, military influences and ulterior motivators; Alex Rider handles each topic with a grace and insight he hasn’t seen since university. Quite frankly he doesn’t know whether to be impressed or terrified. He settles on curious.
Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher who’s family served in the army, who recognises the shadows of war in those dark brown eyes even if he can never understand why. The only one that seems to notice that seeing Alex’s controlled, efficient steps through a boisterous crowd of school children is like watching a ballet dancer glide through a swarm of drunk seagulls.
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Give me Alex Rider’s politics teacher whose subject gives him more of a glimpse into his talents than most people are allowed to see; who takes one good look at his extra little piece of the puzzle and thinks yeah. This kid is brilliant.
I decided I want to document my first attempt at fanbinding the fantastic ATLA fic “Salvage” by @muffinlance. I’ll be reblogging this post with all my updates. Here’s the first!
Day 0: supplies have been ordered and I’ve done frantic googling on how the hell am I supposed to format this for printing. I’ve come to the conclusion I’ll have to take the pdf of the fic, transfer it to a doc to remove the author’s notes and add page numbers, turn it into a pdf again to run through a program that will format it for me and then print it. Tomorrow tho, it’s too late for that tonight
20 Dialogue Prompts Part 2
Here is a list of twenty dialogue prompts! Thank you everyone for contributing!
“You know, until you pointed it out, I never really noticed that horn on your head.”
“Honey, this relationship isn’t going to work out if you keep getting charged for murder”
“I don’t know what your teacher told you, but milk isn’t real.”
“Uh, Mr Reaper sir? Do you still do the game for your life thing?” “That depends on the game. I am tired of chess.” “What about golf?”
“You have angered our feline overlords! Now you must endure the litter tray of doo-doom!”
Keep reading
anthony bridgerton said “i am not a man of poetry” and then turned around and delivered “you are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. night and day i dream of you” all men do is lie
All children are born with qualities based off their zodiac. Parents will celebrate the birth of a Virgo daughter, forever beautiful and pure, or the birth a brave, confident Leo. Other parents lament at their Aquarius children, forever cursed to carry around a bucket of water. Write about a couple anticipating their first child.
[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories
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see-through-stars reblogged this · 5 years ago
words with 2 cups of glitter, a dash of existencial angst and 3 tablespoons of romantization. hopeless romantic, art hoe, pretentious ice cream addict and swiftie.
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