Hey I'm back! With a whole new story!This is the first chapter of a story I presume to be longer than all the others and with an actual plot (Whoa!!)I hope the format comes out as i had originally planned it but you never know with hotmail!
Please tell me what you think, I'm going over an extremely tough time with my stories and need all the support I can get. (yes this is emotional black-mail)I fear I might stop writing alltogether if I dnt get reviews*oh sigh!! poor little me!*No just joking but please do review.
Don't own seaQuest by the way.
This is dedicated to my own cousin, my angel, rest in peace.
Chapter 1
The boy sat immobile on the orange plastic chair situated on the side of the large corridor. His face wore a calm expression as he serenely studied the many people sending him stupefied glances as they hurried past.
He couldn't have been older than nine, then, uhm... what the hell was he doing there? Yep, here he was: Christian, with his silver eyes partly covered by small wisps of dark straight hair which he continuously tried to blow away in annoyance. His small green suitcase rested by his sneakered feet as he waited... and waited... and waited... tick... tock... tick.... tock....
What was he waiting for?
You'd probably think that a boy that young would at least have something to do on a military submarine traveling thousands of meters below the surface of the Atlantic ocean!!
Finally, he spotted what he had been looking for: A blonde head trying to make it's way through the crowd in his direction. An older version of him, with the same facial features, the same worn expression and pretty much his same situation: Being underage and surrounded by military uniforms.
The other stopped a few steps away from him, looking down in his face, studying him almost. Trying, in his mathematical brain to figure out the most intelligent thing to say. It was harder than he had first expected. He hadn't been in the company of a child since forever. He didn't know how much a youth's minute mind could understand of his technical way of thinking.
No, wait...
Why should he use technical words in greetings? Was he blowing the whole thing out of proportion or were his feelings justified? Maybe he should think about this some more, plan out the best way to approach the whole thing.
How should he act around his cousin? Should he be:
Super Friendly,i.e. pretend that they had in fact kept contact in the last year they had spent apart and humbly welcome him to his home?
Or:
Be super cool, i.e. show him what a bomb it had been living on seaQuest all this time and how exactly he had achieved it,making him instantly understand his place through his obvious superiority.
The possibilities were endless. Yes Lucas, ponder on it.
On the other side mean while:
Why was he looking at him that way? Had the 'family genius' lost his ability to speak if not through short, yearly messages via his key-board? Surely, he, Christian wasn't supposed to start the conversation, he was supposedly the least mature, the scarred child thrown in an unknown and certainly intimidating environment. He was just supposed to sit there,look innocent and maybe slightly frightened Yes, that was surely his role at the moment, the tender child facade was certainly the more adapt expression, the one bound to awaken the motherly instinct in the female crew and the father figure which lays dormant in all men. But, then, how could someone, staring at his angelic face but up such a silent treatment? Was he maybe doing something wrong? Maybe he should re-think his startegy.
********
Please tell me what you think, I'm going over an extremely tough time with my stories and need all the support I can get. (yes this is emotional black-mail)I fear I might stop writing alltogether if I dnt get reviews*oh sigh!! poor little me!*No just joking but please do review.
Don't own seaQuest by the way.
This is dedicated to my own cousin, my angel, rest in peace.
Chapter 1
The boy sat immobile on the orange plastic chair situated on the side of the large corridor. His face wore a calm expression as he serenely studied the many people sending him stupefied glances as they hurried past.
He couldn't have been older than nine, then, uhm... what the hell was he doing there? Yep, here he was: Christian, with his silver eyes partly covered by small wisps of dark straight hair which he continuously tried to blow away in annoyance. His small green suitcase rested by his sneakered feet as he waited... and waited... and waited... tick... tock... tick.... tock....
What was he waiting for?
You'd probably think that a boy that young would at least have something to do on a military submarine traveling thousands of meters below the surface of the Atlantic ocean!!
Finally, he spotted what he had been looking for: A blonde head trying to make it's way through the crowd in his direction. An older version of him, with the same facial features, the same worn expression and pretty much his same situation: Being underage and surrounded by military uniforms.
The other stopped a few steps away from him, looking down in his face, studying him almost. Trying, in his mathematical brain to figure out the most intelligent thing to say. It was harder than he had first expected. He hadn't been in the company of a child since forever. He didn't know how much a youth's minute mind could understand of his technical way of thinking.
No, wait...
Why should he use technical words in greetings? Was he blowing the whole thing out of proportion or were his feelings justified? Maybe he should think about this some more, plan out the best way to approach the whole thing.
How should he act around his cousin? Should he be:
Super Friendly,i.e. pretend that they had in fact kept contact in the last year they had spent apart and humbly welcome him to his home?
Or:
Be super cool, i.e. show him what a bomb it had been living on seaQuest all this time and how exactly he had achieved it,making him instantly understand his place through his obvious superiority.
The possibilities were endless. Yes Lucas, ponder on it.
On the other side mean while:
Why was he looking at him that way? Had the 'family genius' lost his ability to speak if not through short, yearly messages via his key-board? Surely, he, Christian wasn't supposed to start the conversation, he was supposedly the least mature, the scarred child thrown in an unknown and certainly intimidating environment. He was just supposed to sit there,look innocent and maybe slightly frightened Yes, that was surely his role at the moment, the tender child facade was certainly the more adapt expression, the one bound to awaken the motherly instinct in the female crew and the father figure which lays dormant in all men. But, then, how could someone, staring at his angelic face but up such a silent treatment? Was he maybe doing something wrong? Maybe he should re-think his startegy.
********