Kreite

Razputin Aquato was a boy who'd never had any room for doubt. When he was struggling with the fear of being exposed as a psychic, a freak amongst freaks, he was alone, staring past the four walls of his caravan: picturing the lush, exaggerated  pastures of whispering rock, imagining himself there, tall and accomplished, surrounded by people who respected and understood him, who saw his power as a gift. He had no doubt that was what he wanted, what he needed; he knew that even if his family accepted him the world would still need heroes, there would still be people who couldn't help themselves, who didn't have the luxury to choose, the p

The Hawaii shatterdome had been offline for about an hour by the time anyone was able to organise a proper response-action. It came back online within the time it took for the perpetrator to slip out of range of their visuals and into the unnaturally strong darkness that hung over the pacific ocean, something that the paparazzi would undoubtedly one day draw humbling attention to. Within a PPDC outpost hidden in the short rurals of Maui, Yancy Becket scowled as he imagined a room of elderly politicians insisting that their colleague’s charge should have the ‘honour’ of investigating. A general distress signal from Honolul

In all his centuries of life Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He was slumped on top of a carved wooden chair whilst his staff rested dejectedly against the bed stand. He and Merida were sat and pacing respectively waiting sedately for Rapunzel to burst into the room and sing them all out of another nightmare. Hiccup’s sallow face was a pale, expressionless mask; his greying head was much too small against the fat, blank pillows and his cheeks were gaunt and bruised to the point where he barely looked alive. Some would argue that Merida was keeping herself together surprisingly well, disguising

As Dipper scratched another day off the calendar he couldn't help but feel like they weren't getting anywhere. He'd... they'd done their best to make the tribulations of lycanthropy as bearable as possible: they'd stocked bucket loads of food to sate their random wolfish cravings, made restraints to keep themselves from hurting anyone after dark, formulated a schedule to help them anticipate their transformations and plan accordingly, (explaining all the bizarre shopping they had to do had been a nightmare), they were as prepared and well supplied as was feasible. But as far as finding a cure was concerned they were no closer to not having

Something was wrong. Joe glared down at the Geiger counter again. A quintet of zeroes… Either the readings were all wrong or the frame of his suspicions had finally been confirmed… His brow furrowed for the umpteenth time as he scanned over his research on Chernobyl… “I knew it…” “Whoa-whoa hey! What are you doing!” There was only stunned silence for a moment as he deeply inhaled the crisp air, wonderfully refreshing after being forced to suck down the smell of stagnant plastic. Across from him he could feel his son’s incredulous scrutiny through the foggy eye lenses of his own