Shadowsblade a Whateley Tale: Written by Shadowsblade

Created for war and forged in pain, dealing with demons within and without.

“God, I always feel so out of place every time I come here…” I moan as I step into the vast dance studio, surrounded by my friends.

“I really hope that’s NOT because you feel uncomfortable wearing THAT!” Lauren teases, making me giggle as I stare down at the short-sleeved black leotard and baby pink tights that are covering my body.

“Hell no!” I reply, making my friends giggle and cheer. “It’s just- you know? You girls are all so good at ballet, and I’m still just a beginner… Not to mention the fact that everyone here is, like, famous!”

“…Wow,” Lauren breathes as Ophelia and I step out of her bedroom, dressed in our elaborate costumes.

“Sure you’re wearing enough make-up?” Katie teases.

“Is it ever possible to wear too much make-up?” I ask as I preen and playfully flick my hair away from my face, which has been smeared in a bright white foundation and ‘enhanced’ with thick black eyeshadow, long (and heavy) fake eyelashes and thick black lipstick.

“Think you’re missing the words ‘at Halloween’ from the end of your question,” Katie asks.

“Does it change the answer?” I ask.

Bear witness to an epic battle of snark when the astonishing Prodigious Girl encounters the enigmatic Lavender Scare! But is this mysterious new super a friend or foe? And what happens when an inscrutable force meets an incredulous object? Learn all this and more inside! Totally not just a weak excuse to share pics of me cosplaying as Prodigious Girl! (A tale of Faraday City.)

I was under the weather Friday and rather sick Saturday. See the October 7 post at: https://stickmaker.dreamwidth.org/ for a brief account.

I'm feeling better today, and posting the next installment as scheduled.

Masks XVIII

by

Rodford Edmiston

Part Eleven

"If our new facility hadn't been ready," said Dr. Nief, "the referring hospital would have treated him. I've spoken with the chief surgeon there and he admits they would not have taken the precautions we did."

Just suppose… If a writer met his creation face to face…

“You know,” I muse as I grab my morning coffee and relax on the plush, soft sofa in my father’s living room, “it may have been in a student shithole, but I miss our old sofa, you know? The whole flat, even.”

“I know precisely what you mean,” Ophelia says, reclining as far back into the sofa as her extra-tight corset will allow. “But we shall return to London soon, and our new flat shall be even better than our previous one!”