the saga of the Dryad comes to an end and the repercussions reach the ears of Vincent Liedecker.. What will the master of the Mayfield Underground do with this knowledge? And who was it that took the genetic samples from the Dryad’s flower? Continue reading
Jada and the others recruit Tammy and Kura to help with the Dryad, but will they arrive in time to save Steampunk from the botanical brute’s clutches? Continue reading
Following the events of the last issue, Jacob’s gone missing and every female student and teacher just got a gift from a secret admirer. Seems perfectly innocent. But why then, are people starting to act so strange? Jada’s on the case along with some unexpected help. Continue reading
The game continues with plenty of powered hijinks. But maybe this innocent outing by everyone isn’t all ‘Fun and Games’. Could this portent something dangerous in store for the kids of the Liedecker Institute? Continue reading
Ah, the sweet insult of choosing teams. What school experience would be without it? Jada really wishes hers was, but clearly, she’s not that lucky. Continue reading
Between Dayspring College, Emerald University and UVA’s Mayfield campus, Mayfield was safely and comfortably withing the bounds of being a ‘college town’. This meant, among other things, that local businesses evolved slightly different approaches to priorities than they would in other places.
Delivery service was suddenly much more important, as were late hours and discounts for students. A relaxed, casual atmosphere helped, and being within walking distance of a campus was the crown jewel.
Not having the kind of money it took to rent floorspace in a prime location, Midnight Black’s owner, Lucy Black, had missed out on that crown jewel. Instead, she’d settled for being in a nice, visible spot on the edge of the Devonhurst business district. At time, she hadn’t paid any mind to the fact that she was three blocks down from the mothballed property that John T. Liedecker intended to become a school for psionics before he was spectacularly underbid by the Psionics Training and Application Academy.
Imagine her surprise when, as the result of the PTAA folding amid allegations of kidnapping and abuse, the formerly dead campus next door was suddenly reanimated as the John T. Liedecker Institute; not just as a high school … Continue reading
The main lobby had been transformed over the course of the day into an impressive stand in for a ball room or concert hall.
There were rows of tables along the walls, illuminated by strings of red, green and white lights as well as hanging lanterns that threw out snowflake patterns. In one corner, a small stage had been set up where a local cover band, Miracle Six, was taking requests, and off to the side, an impressive spread was being catered the owner of a nearby cafe that had become a popular hangout for the LI students and staff.
Everyone’s miniature trees served as living decorations, placed as centerpieces on the tables, or on makeshift pedestals along the edges of the room. Voting slips had appeared under everyone’s doors that morning so they could vote for the best one.
Central to everything was the ‘official’ tree, the enormous white pine donated by none other than Vincent Liedecker himself. It stood in the middle of the room with plastic bins altered by Kura to look like gift boxes beneath it. Those contained dozens of ornaments and garlands, plus multiple types of tinsel, all provided so the party-goers could all have … Continue reading
Martin Han cycled lazily through preview panels for various TV shows on his computer screen. There didn’t seem to be anything new that was interesting, or anything interesting he hadn’t seen before. Even the sports channel was failing him; covering basketball, football and hockey when he was a baseball and soccer fan.
He had homework to do, but it was before dinner, so seeking entertainment took priority. He also had friends; two out of only five other male members of the Junior class. But he’d see them soon at dinner, so it felt like a waste to try and find them now.
As he passed an old episode of Live Metal, he could swear he heard sleigh bells. Sleigh bells and giggling. Momentarily, he flipped back to see if he’d skipped over a Christmas special or something. He was wondering if it was off of some commercial when someone knocked on his door.
There was no one else in the room, so he answered it himself. He’d been partly expecting his friends, dropping by to collect him for a trek out into town for dinner. Instead, he found Kura Akagi wearing an antler hat and a red nose, Tammy Kaine … Continue reading
Tammy Kaine, in the interest of concealing her heroic identity as The Irrepressible Spark and thus her connection to her brother’s status as Alloy of the Descendants, had settled on the codename Tesla after many days scouring thesauri and online encyclopedias and lamenting the lack of really cool and original names related to electricity.
Almost immediately, her best friend had co-opted it into ‘Tesla-girl’ in order to better match her own newly minted code ‘Omni-girl.’.
Her new, measurably less cool codename was the first thing she heard upon getting out of her brother’s car after Thanksgiving vacation and the only warning she had before catching one hundred and twenty-two pounds of Japanese hyperactivity full in the chest.
Kura Akagi’s favorite greeting involved getting up a good head of steam on foot and then gliding into an unsuspecting object of platonic affection like a happy freight train. She gave Tammy a huge hug as her weight added to the bags the other girl was carrying bore them both to the ground.
She landed on top and bounced up almost instantly with a smile and a hand extended to help her friend to her feet. No apology offered, none asked. Kura … Continue reading
The alarm on Steampunk’s nightstand brayed insistently and for the first time, succeeded in its purpose of rousing the girl. It had taken a solid week to get her to the point that an alarm clock that didn’t sound like an emergency signal awakened her, but it was a step forward.
With precision one wouldn’t associate with someone just awake, she reached out and turned the alarm off before sitting up on the edge of her bed.
She’d never needed an alarm before. The first fourteen years of her life had been strictly scheduled by the Project Lead and carried out by various uniformed and helmeted staffers at the Generations Project facility concealed inside a Woodbridge Township, NJ factory.
Waking up there was different depending on which staff members were assigned to take her through her morning routine. Uniform attire and a rigid routine was meant to keep her from differentiating them from one another, but their voices and general attitudes toward her varied enough that seeing faces was a formality.
Some mornings, she would be shouted awake and led through her morning ritual by a steely grip and barked orders. Other mornings, she would be cautiously prodded awake and … Continue reading