Disclaimer: You know the drill. I do not own any recognizable characters
and places. Aurora Nova and the girls in her dorm are characters of my own
creation.
Don'tgottanameyet: It's PG-13 for some disturbing bits in later chapters, some depressing philosophy. And just for safety.
Anna: The reason there's so little visual description is that the character is blind. It's told from her perspective in third person, if that makes sense.
Tigereyes: Better get some rope, I'm quite fond of cliffhangers! Lol
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It was nice to hear from you! Sorry this chapter took so long!
*****
Aurora's hands moved quickly, crafting with extreme perfection and haste. The other girls who shared a dormitory with her had not noticed at first, now it seemed impossible for them to look away. How could someone so. . .impaired do something like that? They feared that she would be hurt, yet her hands moved with knowledge in them.
"How can you do that?" one girl asked her. "You can't even see. . ."
"That doesn't matter," Aurora replied. "My mind can see." She placed her small knife by her leg and held up the small, carved piece of wood. "Can you see it?"
The others nodded, then, realizing she could not see them, blushed and muttered in the affirmative.
"I can see it, too. My hands can see it."
*****
"What are her powers?" Scott asked, confused. "You said she creates fire?"
"No, nothing like it," Jean replied. The two sat in Jean's classroom, (as, of course, all the X-Men were teachers) discussing the new girl--Aurora Nova, Jean said. "There were no flames, no heat, really. Her skin came into contact with mine, after that I ha this blister."
"Was she trying to hurt you?"
Jean smiled slightly. He was such an overprotective boyfriend. "There were no violent intentions. She was frightened."
"Of what?"
"Needles," Jean replied. "I think she--yes?" She interrupted herself, noticing a student standing in the doorway.
"I think I left my notebook in here. . ." Marie explained. Jean held up the composition book in question. Marie nodded, taking the book carefully. "Thanks." She headed out, then stopped, as if something had just occurred to her. "You were talking about her, weren't you?"
"What makes you say that?" Scott asked. Jean sighed; the question was more of an affirmative than anything else; but it was more of a "how-cute" sigh than anything else.
"All the students are," Marie said, more informing than responding. "They want to know what her powers, and how they stop her from seeing."
"She's blind?"
"I asked her. She told me 'sometimes'--everybody's curious about it. Do you know anything about her?"
"No, but we know more, now that you've told us about her vision," Scott replied solemnly.
*****
"It's like a photographic memory," Aurora said. The girls had not stopped asking questions since earlier that evening, when they saw a blind girl carve a duck at super-speed. She began to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" one of the girls called. Aurora knew the voice; it was Jane. Jane could move things with her mind, like Jean--Ms. Grey, they called her.
The door opened. Someone was standing there, Aurora could tell--someone, probably a woman, only a few inches taller than most of the young teens in the dorm. "Lights out, girls. It's ten o'clock."
There were a few groans and protest, but the girls went to their designated beds as the lights were shut off--Aurora could hear the footsteps, the click of the lightswitch, the door close. Footsteps down the hall, then sock-covered feet in the room. "Aurora," someone whispered.
"Are you tired?"
"Not very," she replied, sitting up. "Won't we be in trouble?"
"Maybe the teeniest, tiniest bit," Claudia, a girl who could make herself or others appear invisible, replied. "They're pretty lenient about little stuff."
"We wanted to ask you some questions," the psychic girl called Roxie said. Aurora could feel the bed move as the others adjust themselves so everyone could sit in a circle.
"Where do you come from?" Mary asked. Mary had vocal powers, and frightening mastery over them. With effort, if she told you to walk off a cliff you'd do it. However, it was like hypnotism: most people do not want to walk off cliffs, therefore they would refuse Mary's orders just before they stepped to their dooms.
"I don't want to say," Aurora said. After that, she answered every question the same way: she never wanted to say. She was not trying to be rude, but her life was her business. She did not want it flaunted about.
Eventually the others gave up and retired, one by one, to their own beds. When all the others were asleep, Isobel, who had stopped asking questions as soon as Aurora's defenses were up, walked over to Aurora's bed. Lightly she touched Aurora's shoulder through the blanket. "They mean well," she whispered. "I didn't have it easy, either."
Isobel's voice was the easiest to pick out of a crowd. Her accent was heavy, Southern and no question about it. Louisiana, she always said, was her point of origin. "Zero, zero," she would joke, pointing to a map or a globe. Then she would trace a line to New York, and joke, "You want to know the slope?"
Aurora wanted to tell Isobel what had happened. She was just about to say something when Isobel's hand moved, and her scuffling feet returned to her bed.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," Aurora admitted to the darkness.
*****
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Well, it's getting somewhere. Next chapter, would you rather learn what her powers are or would you rather she talked to Isobel and tells her why she's so defensive?
Don'tgottanameyet: It's PG-13 for some disturbing bits in later chapters, some depressing philosophy. And just for safety.
Anna: The reason there's so little visual description is that the character is blind. It's told from her perspective in third person, if that makes sense.
Tigereyes: Better get some rope, I'm quite fond of cliffhangers! Lol
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It was nice to hear from you! Sorry this chapter took so long!
*****
Aurora's hands moved quickly, crafting with extreme perfection and haste. The other girls who shared a dormitory with her had not noticed at first, now it seemed impossible for them to look away. How could someone so. . .impaired do something like that? They feared that she would be hurt, yet her hands moved with knowledge in them.
"How can you do that?" one girl asked her. "You can't even see. . ."
"That doesn't matter," Aurora replied. "My mind can see." She placed her small knife by her leg and held up the small, carved piece of wood. "Can you see it?"
The others nodded, then, realizing she could not see them, blushed and muttered in the affirmative.
"I can see it, too. My hands can see it."
*****
"What are her powers?" Scott asked, confused. "You said she creates fire?"
"No, nothing like it," Jean replied. The two sat in Jean's classroom, (as, of course, all the X-Men were teachers) discussing the new girl--Aurora Nova, Jean said. "There were no flames, no heat, really. Her skin came into contact with mine, after that I ha this blister."
"Was she trying to hurt you?"
Jean smiled slightly. He was such an overprotective boyfriend. "There were no violent intentions. She was frightened."
"Of what?"
"Needles," Jean replied. "I think she--yes?" She interrupted herself, noticing a student standing in the doorway.
"I think I left my notebook in here. . ." Marie explained. Jean held up the composition book in question. Marie nodded, taking the book carefully. "Thanks." She headed out, then stopped, as if something had just occurred to her. "You were talking about her, weren't you?"
"What makes you say that?" Scott asked. Jean sighed; the question was more of an affirmative than anything else; but it was more of a "how-cute" sigh than anything else.
"All the students are," Marie said, more informing than responding. "They want to know what her powers, and how they stop her from seeing."
"She's blind?"
"I asked her. She told me 'sometimes'--everybody's curious about it. Do you know anything about her?"
"No, but we know more, now that you've told us about her vision," Scott replied solemnly.
*****
"It's like a photographic memory," Aurora said. The girls had not stopped asking questions since earlier that evening, when they saw a blind girl carve a duck at super-speed. She began to say something, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Come in!" one of the girls called. Aurora knew the voice; it was Jane. Jane could move things with her mind, like Jean--Ms. Grey, they called her.
The door opened. Someone was standing there, Aurora could tell--someone, probably a woman, only a few inches taller than most of the young teens in the dorm. "Lights out, girls. It's ten o'clock."
There were a few groans and protest, but the girls went to their designated beds as the lights were shut off--Aurora could hear the footsteps, the click of the lightswitch, the door close. Footsteps down the hall, then sock-covered feet in the room. "Aurora," someone whispered.
"Are you tired?"
"Not very," she replied, sitting up. "Won't we be in trouble?"
"Maybe the teeniest, tiniest bit," Claudia, a girl who could make herself or others appear invisible, replied. "They're pretty lenient about little stuff."
"We wanted to ask you some questions," the psychic girl called Roxie said. Aurora could feel the bed move as the others adjust themselves so everyone could sit in a circle.
"Where do you come from?" Mary asked. Mary had vocal powers, and frightening mastery over them. With effort, if she told you to walk off a cliff you'd do it. However, it was like hypnotism: most people do not want to walk off cliffs, therefore they would refuse Mary's orders just before they stepped to their dooms.
"I don't want to say," Aurora said. After that, she answered every question the same way: she never wanted to say. She was not trying to be rude, but her life was her business. She did not want it flaunted about.
Eventually the others gave up and retired, one by one, to their own beds. When all the others were asleep, Isobel, who had stopped asking questions as soon as Aurora's defenses were up, walked over to Aurora's bed. Lightly she touched Aurora's shoulder through the blanket. "They mean well," she whispered. "I didn't have it easy, either."
Isobel's voice was the easiest to pick out of a crowd. Her accent was heavy, Southern and no question about it. Louisiana, she always said, was her point of origin. "Zero, zero," she would joke, pointing to a map or a globe. Then she would trace a line to New York, and joke, "You want to know the slope?"
Aurora wanted to tell Isobel what had happened. She was just about to say something when Isobel's hand moved, and her scuffling feet returned to her bed.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," Aurora admitted to the darkness.
*****
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Well, it's getting somewhere. Next chapter, would you rather learn what her powers are or would you rather she talked to Isobel and tells her why she's so defensive?