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Expandio.
Expandio is a superhero in the Sparkverse with elasticity and shapeshifting as his main superpower. His real name is Lorenzo Brambilla from the island of Sardinia, Italy and he was born with his powers. It was unknown how his body's DNA managed to develop his elastic powers but he discovered them when climbing the mountains on hiking trips (a hobby of his).
Apart from stretching, he can shapeshift his body into all sorts through the power of the brain. Like for instance, if he thinks of turning his hands into hammers......They happen!!
Expandio has a cheerful and comedic personality as he likes to jump around and feel free round the Italian countryside. As a superhero, he felt serious in a way battling crime and supervillains but sometimes he acts silly when making random remarks on his enemies as well as getting himself tied in knots.
The name Expandio is a mixture of the word "expand" (in English) and with a big of the Italian word, "expandir".
#teamhonour#superhero#illustration#Expandio#stretching#plastic man#electra city#sparkboy#sparkverse#comic art#elasticity#orange
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been thinking a lot about this guy lately. i think he and enphoso would be pals kinda..
sparknician (still not sure if thats a placeholder name or not) isnt really a mortal at all, since he's literally a huge spark shaped like a guy. if Mr were to get into the vator, sparkboy would leave. not cus he'd die but because if mr tried to burn him it would only burn his clothes and then he would be naked. embarassing!
he doesn't mind being forced out of the elevator, though (as long as he's not in a rush somewhere). he usually gets a little snack and fixes a lightbulb or cleans up or something for enphoso. does handyman things! or if he's feeling particularly awful he'll (somehow) bawl his eyes out on the counter. only if there's nobody else in the shop though.
#labyposting#labyart#my art#regretevator#regretevator roblox#roblox regretevator#regretevator fanart#regretevator art#roblox#roblox art#roblox fanart#fanart#regretevator oc#oc art#oc#enphoso regretevator#enphoso#regretevator enphoso#sparknician#oc sparknician
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Valar Morghulis
@midoriyas-quirk
An enquiry for lunch on the school's balcony is what she asks with the other is when she asks him that simple question.
The boy was young, same age as she was. Slighly shorter and far more leaner than the average male.
His ability however, is what makes the difference of his own height and shape of body.
What an incident it had been.
A mistake, yet it had triggered such a spark(no pun intended), and while she cannot know exactly what the other felt at the time.
It felt as if she had a clover wrapped around her heart.
He smiled and the spell had been cast.
It had truly been such a slow progression there had been times she had thought it to be merely a play of her pliable young mind. Such thought never prolonged for he, this young boy beside her, always saw when there was a dip to anyone's energy, and answered in turn by becoming more affectionate to others.
Despite of how some had mistreated him.
Cautious, he was always stepping around the water instead of walking through, and she know he can't have always been this way which is why it was so difficult to witness. Nevertheless how could she argue with him when he had such a fractured expression.
So when she saw how he hesitated in speaking out, whether it would be towards any small mishaps or even arguments that can occur, he never complained, how could he? He wasn't a fragile man so much as one who had experienced too much, and for the most part she knew that he was wary that anyone would look down on him because of his appearance and size regardless of how painful that is to recognize. But how?
How did he do it?
Charging forward with one simple thought despite that it might risk his and others lives, knowing and believing what it right and what isn't without seeing any grey contrast to any choices and opinions.
Without meaning to, she spoke out her own thoughts to the young fellow classmate beside her.
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Opinions on Tomura being a gamer and accidentally Meeting some of the UA kids while gaming? Like, he's playing bedwars and gets teamed up with Denki but doesn't know that it's Denki due to his username being something like "Sparkboy" or something like that.
I'm taking a WILD guess that you're new here because I have an entire sideplot in my fic of Denki and Shigaraki being on the same Hermitcraft-esque Minecraft Streaming server with a bunch of randos and not knowing until post-USJ incident and the new 'season' starts where they're like

(The potential for either of them running into that Streamer!Inko idea we had a while back also exists)
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Sparkboys #1: I Rescue A Toilet Boy
Content warning: Swearing, implications of abuse, swirlies.
Fifteen-year-old Murphy Rapp has moved south, and he plans on not staying long. The mosquitos are terrible, the people are loud, and his adoptive mother is intimidating--and that's before she turns him and his friends into killer robots, corrupting any hope of leaving the dark heart of Dixie. Sweet home Alabama, am I right?
The social worker didn’t even turn into the driveway.
“Hm, she’s in a hurry,” Dr. Allison said calmly as the car sped off as quickly as it came. Then she turned to me. “Now, what are we going to do here?”
Allison was in her late thirties, but she acted much older. She had the posture of an iron rail and dull reddish hair. She was dressed like a businesswoman, not a mother.
So I was left on her doorstep. She looked at me critically. I imagine other people dress nice to meet their adoptive parents, but I’m not other people, and I was wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans. It’s not that I don’t have nice clothes, it’s just that those clothes belong on someone else.
“Well… I suppose you should come in,” Allison said, clasping her hands together and flashing a professional smile. “Put your bags down, you can unpack tomorrow. It’s already late.”
I put my suitcase down near the door. The room was painted dead white, and the carpet was the color of mush. I swallowed hard. “Thanks?”
“Okay, I can drop you off at a restaurant, or you can—” It suddenly turned over in her head that I had said something. “Excuse me?”
I glanced around, feeling dumb. “Thanks for letting me in your house.”
I didn’t feel like thanking her. I was uncomfortable and I wanted to run down the street behind the social worker. The whole setup looked empty, like someone just barely lived in it. The living room was one couch and a TV on the floor. The dining room was one folding table and one chair. There was a faint smell, something unpleasant under cheap air freshener, like a hospital.
Allison raised her eyebrows. “Well, aren’t you polite. I wouldn’t have thought it, looking at that scowl.”
I wasn’t scowling. “I’m not scowling!”
She scoffed and reached a hand out to touch me, but I stepped back. “Don’t touch the hair. ...Please,” I ground out, remembering that this person was now in charge of me.
It’s difficult to imagine how angry I was when I first met Allison, but I was. I was an asshole to most adults because most adults were assholes to me. She seemed nice, but in a long enough time frame, everyone’s an asshole.
Allison coughed politely. “Alright, easy. I’m going to lay down the rules of the house, and you’re going to listen.”
These are the rules you live by if you live in Dr. Allison’s house.
Allison can make up as many rules as she wants.
Don’t go in the basement. Allison works in the basement and she hates getting interrupted.
You sleep in the attic, because it’s far away from the basement. Do whatever you want in there as long as you keep it clean.
Allison is a terrible cook. Buy frozen dinners and learn how to cook for yourself. You can eat out on weekends.
Seriously, don’t go in the basement. Doesn’t matter if it sounds like she’s in trouble. She’s got it.
If you aren’t grounded, you can go out. Leave a note on the fridge, though.
I was leaning on the wall next to the door, and Allison was sitting on the couch. I didn’t want to sit on the couch. I wasn’t sure of my boundaries.
“So,” she continued. “It’s late. I can take you to a restaurant, or you can go to bed.”
I had spent all day sitting on a plane. I hadn’t had dinner.
Allison’s pickup truck was fading purple, and smells like cigarettes. She said it was secondhand. I believed her, because she didn’t seem like a smoker.
Neither of us talked in the truck. I was looking out the window the whole drive.
By fifteen, I’d assumed I knew everything there was to know about adults. Allison seemed like an upright, uptight woman—an unsentimental foster parent who only wanted that sweet, sweet government money. I felt done for already.
Going out of Mobile, I couldn’t see much, but I could hear the spray of water hitting the side of the causeway. We passed three or four elaborate-looking seafood restaurants, but they were nigh-empty. The problem, Dr. Allison said, is that it’s not close enough to the football field.
“They like football out here. Even in the summer, the high school football teams play, and because there’s not much else to do, other people will show up and watch. It’s novel, really.”
Meanwhile, I was sinking lower and lower. Allison had been introduced to me as some kind of scientist doing important robotics research. That sounded stressful—stress that could get taken out on me, if I wasn’t careful. I continued choking my words back, chewing on the little plastic bits of my hoodie strings.
She turned off the main road and into a series of cramped, winding roads through some kind of shopping outlet. We stopped in front of some restaurant with fading, flickering red block letters reading “Goose Palace.”
“Alright. Get yourself some dinner.”
It was nine at night, and I was standing in front of Goose Palace. For some reason, the place was packed with teenagers—I didn’t even think there were this many people in town. I could hear someone singing, muffled, “for he’s a jolly good fellow.” From inside, I could see sets of eyes staring at me.
“Where’d all these people come from?”
Allison raised her eyebrows, almost disapproving. “One of the football games just ended. I assumed you would like to be introduced to your peers. ...I could drive you home if you want.”
“No, no, it’s good! It’s good.”
Her expression was difficult to read, like most expressions. “Alright. I’ve got some business to attend to down at the lab, so I’ll be back in about an hour. Don’t be afraid to call.” She frowned, and I swallowed hard. “And get those strings out of your mouth.”
The purple pickup puttered out of the parking lot. I was left sputtering at my strings.
Goose Palace is an unstuffy, dark little Chinese restaurant, swarming with kids and lit with red neon signs. A bunch of whooping football players were loitering in one corner. It’s the town’s PG-13 biker bar.
A few big guys started murmuring as I came inside, saying stuff like “who’s this fucker” and “what does he want” and “when did Allison get a kid.” Was something wrong? A few continued looking out the window, their eyes following the pickup truck.
I really like that restaurant now, but I didn’t at the time, because half of the clientele was staring at me trying to figure out what kind of asshole I thought I was, and the other half was still yelling about football. So this was already a huge disaster.
But here’s the problem: I wasn’t raised in a barn. I wanted to wash my hands before I ate.
The booth I got ended up being really far away from the bathroom, so I had to muscle my way through the sweaty crowd to get to it. When I got inside the cramped bathroom, I splashed water in my face until I felt drowned enough to quit kicking myself.
My hand habitually went to my neck. I had a thing about taking my own pulse when I was anxious, and I would stand there for a minute, trying to bring myself down to a resting heart rate. In hindsight, it didn’t help much, since sometimes I got stressed trying to make myself stop stressing.
I was about to walk out the door when I realized there were splashing sounds in the room that weren’t me.
I turned around slowly. The stall behind me was locked, but I could hear laughter and bubbling noises in there. I glanced down. Four guys were in the stall, one of them on his knees in front of the toilet. Oh, fuck.
I knocked on the stall door. “You okay in there?”
They all went quiet, then I heard gasping. “Yeah, we’re fine, our friend here’s just sick, is all.”
One of them kicked toilet boy in the shin and whispered “tell him you’re fine, Jacob.” All I heard out of him was some wheezing and sputtering. I didn’t like this.
“I’m coming in there.”
“Oh no, you better be coming out! ...Wait.”
I stuck my legs under the stall door and pulled myself in.
Bad idea—I was now in a bathroom stall with three football players.
One of them screamed, and I heard the loud crack of my glasses breaking before I even knew what was happening. But that’s all I got, because somehow I had it in me to find and unlock the stall. As soon as the door opened, every attacker in the stall fucked off into the restaurant.
Still in shock, I turned and looked at toilet boy. He was still doubled over, coughing like a drowned rat. I gave him a good thump on the back. “You okay?”
He kept coughing, and I went to put a hand on his shoulder. He grabbed my wrist before I could do so. “I’m fine,” he said in the most gravelly, un-fine voice I’d ever heard. “I just need a moment.”
“...You don’t think they’re gonna come back?”
“I don’t suppose they’ll do anything to us—or you, at the very least… Anyone plumb crazy enough to crawl into a bathroom stall isn’t worth it to them.”
“Oh.” Well, if there was any chance that I could make up my bad impression, it was gone now. “Can I get you a paper towel… Jacob? It’s Jacob, right?”
Jacob coughed one last time and spit. “That’d be nice.”
I went and got him a big sheet of paper towel to dry his hair with, and offered him my hand. He took it and got up… and up… and up.
Now that I could get a good, blurry look at him and his jacket, I realized Jacob was also a football player.
I don’t know how I was looking at him, but it couldn’t have been a good look, because his ears went red. “Um… yeah,” he mumbled. He walked over to the mirror and started washing toilet water out of his hair. “I’m guessin’ you’re from Velma.”
“No, I’m from Chicago.”
“Chicago? What the hell’re you doin’ here?” Jacob sounded distinctly southern, in a way I’d later find I could never nail down for myself. I would always try to imitate him and he would just shake his head, saying I sounded like a white man with a stick up his ass.
“I’m, I’m moving in.”
“Hm. Your family’s here for Airbus?”
“Something like that.” I paused. “So…”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I wasn’t gonna ask.”
Jacob took the paper towel and started wiping his sopping wet face, dabbing at his bleeding lip. He was beat up, probably a lot worse than I was.
Just then, I got a text. Then I realized I couldn’t read it for shit.
My nose wasn’t broken when I was punched, but my glasses were a lost cause. They’d snapped at the bridge, and both lenses had been trampled by everyone who’d left the stall.
After a moment, Jacob stopped and looked at me. “I’m fine, dude. I can take it from here.”
“Uh, there’s actually something I want to ask you…”
“Well, spit it out, Chicago.”
“Can you read this?” I showed him my phone.
Jacob opened his mouth to say something, noticed the bits of my glasses strewn on the ground, then closed it. He squinted at the text. “It’s from… Dr. Allison. ‘Problem at the lab. Can you walk home? I’m going to be stuck here for a few hours.’”
“Shit, I can’t. I wouldn’t know where I’m going.”
“Is there someone else you can call?”
“No, it’s just me and Allison.” Jacob chewed his lip thoughtfully as I continued: “Do you know any local taxi companies—?”
“Do you want a ride?”
I paused for a while. I must have had a bad look again, because Jacob said: “It’s the least I can do, you know. Because you saved my ass.”
“I…” If I walked, then I would be in a strange neighborhood at night, without my glasses. Not to mention that I still had to get my dinner, and the football team would almost definitely jump me if I were alone. “Yeah, why not?”
Vote and comment on Wattpad.
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you: he's a sparky boi // me, slowly: sharkboy...... but electric............... s-sparkboy...........................
sjdfksdjl SPARKBOY
#roman calls him sparky one time and virgil intentionally shocks him every time they touch for the next week#askjfadkfjsl#ask#medieval au#Anonymous
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Horsey Wish List
As of Feb 17, 2019:
Dark palomino North Swedish Horse from Firgrove. (Sunspirit - Ravi) 749
Liver chestnut Jorvik Warmblood from Dundull. (Hotflash - Wasabi) 750
Palomino paint Jorvik Warmblood from Crescent Moon Village. (Summermelody - Gwen) 750
Blue roan Jorvik Warmblood from Dundull. (Skysong - Loni) 750
Buckskin appaloosa Jorvik Warmblood from Fort Pinta. (Marblewarrior - Perseus/Percy) 750
Black Trakehner from Goldenleaf Stable. (Midnightbelle - Nyx) 750
Dark Bay Trakehner from Goldenleaf Stable. (Sparkboy - Zippy) 750
Palomino Lusitano from Steves Farm. (Goldbeauty - Blanche) 949
Light Grey Jorvik Pony from Fort Pinta. (Snowmagic - Elodie) 350
Chestnut Icelandic from New Hillcrest. (Crimsonkid - Oscar) 969
SC total: 7517
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ohh yeah sparkboy, likes dogs, yeah?
GWEN. GWEN. HI. MISS RECO SKULLNUTZ FOLLOWS ME WHAT DO I DO
— ⭐
Ah! Heh... sorry to break it to you Starry, but he has been following me for some time! I got it from the concert I told you about!
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sharkboy and lavagirl AU with sollux and aradia
sparkboy and lavagirl
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Champion: the Silver Bulliet.
Make way for Champion the Silver Bulliet! The fastest sports expert in the world (like DC's Flash or Sonic the Hedgehog). Team Honour's speedster is ready to show and support the Olympic Games ( from London 2012 to Paris 2024) of how fun it is, ever you get or don't earn a gold, silver or bronze medal. Plus these games has no place for cheats or morons who want to ruin the excitement.
(Although the word 'bullet' dosen't has an "i" but this is pronounced as his hero name.)
For the athletes taking part in the #parisolympics2024 I made this art in support for you in good luck. Those retiring after these games, I say thanks for inspiring us all. But those ready for the Summer #Olympics in 2028 in #LosAngeles
Good Luck 🤞
#teamhonour#superhero#illustration#sparkboy#olympic 2024#paris 2024#olympic games#built for speed#speedster#orginal character#flash#gold medal#silver medal#bronze medal#cross country#los angeles#la 2028#Champion the Silver Bulliet
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Website:
My website includes:
Videos of best known work.
Artwork of my famous creations such as SparkBoy and Fire Ra
Contact page as well as links to my Facebook Page and YouTube channel
Facts about myself.
Opening page that includes Show-reel of 2017.
Videos in the making of projects.
My website now includes various changes since first created the past year, as well as page backgrounds. That way, viewers may see something like action as my artwork is based on comic art.
Most of the videos are uploaded YouTube videos.
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This neeeeeds to happen. We’ll also find out something about Skiffander. Maybe sparkboys lost notes? Something to send us on another arc that doesn’t end for three years
*looks at foglios*
Gil promising the closest thing he has to a sister that he will help her fight and kill his actual sister who he doesn’t know is his sister is a lot to take in. He has to find out Zeetha’s his twin during this arc, I need the pain.
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Sparkboys #2: A Roof Redneck Offers Me Brownies
Content warning: Profanity, drug mentions, screaming rednecks.
The polls are in and the polls want Murphy! Buckle up, buttercups, because Murphy ain’t done falling into this vortex of terror.
My tablet is on the road to recovery, so if the guys from Best Buy pull through, you might be seeing chapter art for each of these.
(Chapter 1)
“They’re staring at us.”
“Yeah, because you broke into a goddamn bathroom stall,” Jacob replied through a mouthful of shrimp. “Anybody reasonable’ld be starin’ at you.”
Picture this: you’ve got a scrawny looking kid with a bad dye job, a ratty hoodie, and the beginnings of a nosebleed. You’ve got a linebacker who’s been beat to hell and dunked in water. Put them in the same restaurant booth. That’s what was going on.
We figured we were both hungry, and that nobody would bother us if we sat together. Jacob looked socially pathetic, but he was still a whole lot of dude, and I was sure I would be eternally branded the Crazy Toilet Guy™, but at least no one would fuck with me.
The ideal football player looks like an all-American boy. Jacob looked like somebody who mugged all-American boys in a dark alley. Maybe the black eye was part of it (lord knows how that happened), maybe the piercings was part of it (earrings, nose stud, the whole works), but mostly he was just moody-looking. If Allison thought I was scowling, she should have gotten a load of this guy.
“Nah, they were already staring when I first came in…” I was looking out the window, pretending not to notice the gawkers. The outlet looked creepy, though I imagine it looked better in daylight. I thought of the people who were whispering Allison’s name. “Does it have anything to do with Dr. Allison?”
Jacob jumped a little, as if stabbed. “Why’d you think that?”
“Well, you seemed surprised when you read my texts. Come to think of it—thank you,” I said to the waitress, who put two drinks down. She, too, gave me a bit of a stink-eye. “—everyone seems to know who she is.”
Jacob took some sugar packets from the little tray on the table and started dumping them in his drink. I eyed the reddish-brown drinks cautiously—I had been getting my food while the waitress was at the booth, letting Jacob order drinks for both of us. He looked at me, lit up with curiosity. “What’s she to you?”
“Eh, she’s my mother,” I said evenly.
“You call your mother by her last name?”
“Fostered.”
“Oh. Like… real recently?”
“Yeah, how’d you guess?” I took a tiny sip of the drink. It already tasted like sugar. I couldn’t understand why Jacob was putting more in it.
“Sweet tea.”
“What?”
“The drinks. You were starin’ at ‘em like they were gonna bite you,” he chuckled, low. Masculine. I made a note to work on my laugh. “But Dr. Allison has a strange reputation in this town. We know maybe one thing about her, and it’s that she’s a doctor.”
“Robot scientist. Roboticist?”
“Really?”
“It’s what the social worker said.”
“Man, I knew she had to be doin’ somethin’ with all that sheet metal. My dad works at Lowe’s,” Jacob added. “Her neighbors swear up and down that she’s an organ trafficker.”
I picked at my dumplings uncomfortably—and there’s something strangely comforting about how, no matter where they are or what the sign says, Chinese restaurants will always serve dumplings. “Why?”
“Uh, foreign people showing up at her doorstep with briefcases. Strange noises from her house at night. General weirdness. But mostly because she don’t talk to anyone.”
“What, that’s an issue?”
“Ev’ryone knows ev’ryone in Cottonport. Nobody knows Allison—‘cept you, I suppose.” He got very quiet. “How is it?”
“The sweet tea, or Allison?”
“Both.”
“The tea’s sweet. Allison’s… I don’t know. I haven’t been there long enough to really have an opinion,” I admitted.
The waitress came back with the check and two fortune cookies. I was glad that I was at a buffet, otherwise she might’ve spat in my food. I looked over the restaurant again. The other teenagers had gotten bored of us, and instead, their eyes were on two women in suits speaking to the cashier. Local lesbians, I guessed.
I offered to pick up the check. At the same time, Jacob offered to pick up the check. “Dude, seriously, let me handle it, you’re already putting up with the town witch—”
“You were in a toilet when I met you, you don’t get to feel sorry for me—!”
“Lemme be nice to you!”
“Never!”
This was the first in what would prove to be a friendship full of arguments.
We ended up splitting it halfway. I still think I should have covered the whole check, especially since I got an extra box for Allison. Maybe if I gave her enough food she’d let me keep my kidneys.
“Are you awake?”
“Yeah, I’m awake.”
“You’ll have to tell me where to turn.”
Sitting in Jacob’s car was way more calming than I thought a ride with a stranger would be. It helps that his car looks like a mom car. You know those cars that you always see a million of at a carpool? That exact car.
I racked—wracked? Raked? I can never get those words straight—my brain, trying to remember where my house was. “Uh, turn left here.”
I’m not a fan of the suburbs at the best of times, but when I see a quiet neighborhood at night, my fight or flight instinct goes off. It was pitch dark, except maybe one or two streetlights. It was dark in Jacob’s car, too, but a nice dark. Allison’s takeout box burned in my lap. I hoped she liked fried rice.
Jacob kept driving down the winding roads as I tried to direct him. The poor guy, he was doing his best, but I wasn’t paying attention on my way in the first time. We were both thinking that we were lost but we were also both too busy wallowing in social anxiety to voice that.
We had been driving for about ten minutes when I looked at something on the side of the road and said “what’s that.”
At that point I knew we were Lost As Fuck, because this street had some odd houses. I knew what a McMansion looked like, but these weren’t really big enough to be mansions, they were just… Mc. But as much of a hot mess as these houses were, I was focusing on the moving light on top of the house.
“What’s what—wait,” Jacob said, slowing down. “What is that?”
It looked like somebody was waving a flashlight on the roof, though it was too dark for me to make out anything else. “Fuck if I know. You’ve got the good eyes.”
Jacob stopped the car and stared at the roof for a good moment. The syrupy light calmed down, apparently done with spinning around. “Is that—oh my god, it’s Rebecca!”
I squinted at the roof, still seeing nothing. “Who’s Rebecca?”
“The only person who’d climb onto a roof in the middle of the night, that’s who.” He covered his mouth, his eyebrows coming together. “Damn, what’s she even doing here?” He asked himself. “I thought her dad moved to Tacoma.”
Then the flashlight was aimed at the car. Jacob ducked like it was a gun. “Get down!”
I automatically bent over as far as the box would allow, and only afterwards did I realize I had no clue what this was about. “What? What’s going on?”
The beam was pointed through the car window. From the distance, I heard a girl shouting: “Jacob? Is that you?”
Jacob shushed me. “You can’t let her know I’m here!”
“I know you’re in there, silly, you left your headlights on!” Rebecca drawled. She also had an accent, but it was softer, I think? She sounded like that Gone With the Wind chick, which I think she’d find ironic.
Jacob groaned, sat up, and rolled down his window. “Don’t mind me, Rebecca, I’m just passin’ through!”
“Who’s that?”
“None of your business!” I peeked out the window, and immediately got a face full of light. “Hey! Don’t let her see you!”
“Oooooooooh! You got a boy in there!”
“No I don’t!”
I covered my eyes and squinted at the roof, but the nighttime was the wrong time this time. “Hey, roll down your window, stranger!” she shouted.
I looked to Jacob, but he had his head in his hands. I rolled the window down. Rebecca nodded her flashlight in approval. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, you don’t look familiar. Are you new in town?”
“Uh, yeah,” I called out.
“You want a brownie?”
“I… what?”
“I got some brownies, do you want a couple? Consider them a housewarming gift!”
“Do not,” Jacob hissed.
I was super confused now. “Hey, what’s up with this girl?” I asked Jacob.
“She’s just creepy. Don’t talk to her,” he whispered.
“I figured, she’s yelling at us from her roof. But how does she know who you are?”
“I was the top linebacker, a lot people know who I am.”
It didn’t explain the overly-familiar friendly rudeness, or how she knew what his truck looked like, or how he recognized her from so many yards away—but Jacob was close-lipped, and pumping him for answers would be stupid.
There was only one question that I could get a real straight answer on. “But does she have, like… drugs?”
“What? No!” Jacob sputtered. “...W—why? D’you want any?”
Hm, Rebecca was weird and possibly troubled. Sounded like my kind of company. So I grabbed some stuff and got out of the car. “What’re you doin’?!” Jacob demanded, getting out of the driver’s seat.
“Going to meet the crazy roof girl. Hold my box.”
“See, Jacob? Some people know how to have a good time,” Rebecca chortled.
“You mind your own goddamn business, Rebecca!” Jacob yelled at the roof.
“There’s a ladder by the wall here,” she continued, pointing her flashlight at a spot on the grass. “You don’t have to stay, you can just grab you a brownie.”
I started towards the spot, only to be stopped in my tracks. I turned and saw Jacob holding the hood of my sweatshirt. “What are you doing?!”
“What are you doin’? This ain’t your house! We’re trespassing,” he snapped. “You know what could happen? We could get arrested!”
“Bad things can happen every day, you ding-dong. I could get herpes every time I walk outside! That doesn’t stop me from living my life!”
“That ain’t how herpes works.”
“You don’t know what I do in my free time!” I spotted the shape of a ladder leaning against the building. Great!
I think a lot about that ladder. I guess Rebecca put it there, but she could have gone out the window to get on the roof. Without it, I probably wouldn’t have taken her offer. How different would my life turn out if I had?
Anyway:
I started climbing up the ladder, and Jacob was basically scurrying behind me. “If you don’t come down from there, you’re gonna be walkin’ home!”
“Cool.”
I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined it was turning red. “Fine! Stay here, see if I care!”
“Uh huh.”
“I’m drivin’ off, and you’re either gettin’ arrested or draggin’ yourself into one of Rebecca’s dumb shenanigans! I’m tired of enablin’ ev’ry mildly quirky boy that says hello to me!”
“Then drive off.”
“I am, asshole! Good evenin’!”
I heard him storming off behind me. He wouldn’t be gone for long, I had his car keys.
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She felt herself heat up from her own slip of tongue with her own thoughts.
Her body increased in both temperature and sweat, either from nervousness or the heat from the bright sun, quite possibly both maybe.
So she forced herself to turn and face to where he could be found commonly, true to habit, he sat at the back admiring the warmth on his skin, sipping a concoction that he had revealed to be tea. He drank it then lowered his cup as he swallowed what remains in his mouth with his eyes fixated on the young amphibian.
She opened her mouth but shuts it immediately, as she did not wish to offend him with this one question that would lead to scenerios that might not be pleasant.
However, as she continues to merely stare at him, he mirrored her with mere a look but his with more curiosity than with anxious features as she was at the moment, and questioned her without furthering any utters of his own.
She closed her eyes briefly and breathed out then switched her focus on the horizon, "I-" she started with but cleared her voice to remove any nervousness, "I don't understand how you do it." She spoke aloud of her thoughts this time. "You're still young," Inexperienced. "You don't exactly have the average height as everyone else."
"With how your bravery knows no bounds," she paused to move a strand of her dark moss hair away from her eyes, "To protect everyone."
Despite of how others have treated you.
Despite of how you might lose your life in a moment of crisis to ensure everyone else's safety, regardless of your own well being.
Her worried mind plaguing over the thoughts of her dear friend's well-being.
Brutality. That was what was ruled in the line of their training for their future and fated duty. She knew that well enough, for children to hold an adults place and fight for something as simple minded as crossing the wrong path was barbaric. True, Villains held little regard for Heroes now, especially those who are younger, though she supposed that was what the individualized group classes stood for.
To train them for what was to come in their coming of age.
Valar Morghulis
@midoriyas-quirk
An enquiry for lunch on the school’s balcony is what she asks with the other is when she asks him that simple question.
The boy was young, same age as she was. Slighly shorter and far more leaner than the average male.
His ability however, is what makes the difference of his own height and shape of body.
What an incident it had been.
A mistake, yet it had triggered such a spark(no pun intended), and while she cannot know exactly what the other felt at the time.
It felt as if she had a clover wrapped around her heart.
He smiled and the spell had been cast.
It had truly been such a slow progression there had been times she had thought it to be merely a play of her pliable young mind. Such thought never prolonged for he, this young boy beside her, always saw when there was a dip to anyone’s energy, and answered in turn by becoming more affectionate to others.
Despite of how some had mistreated him.
Cautious, he was always stepping around the water instead of walking through, and she know he can’t have always been this way which is why it was so difficult to witness. Nevertheless how could she argue with him when he had such a fractured expression.
So when she saw how he hesitated in speaking out, whether it would be towards any small mishaps or even arguments that can occur, he never complained, how could he? He wasn’t a fragile man so much as one who had experienced too much, and for the most part she knew that he was wary that anyone would look down on him because of his appearance and size regardless of how painful that is to recognize. But how?
How did he do it?
Charging forward with one simple thought despite that it might risk his and others lives, knowing and believing what it right and what isn’t without seeing any grey contrast to any choices and opinions.
Without meaning to, she spoke out her own thoughts to the young fellow classmate beside her.
#your local amphibian#hero in training#sparkboi#all men must die#but we are not men#bnha#bnhaau#bnha rp#chain-rp
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SparkBoy is Back!
And this time he's more powerful than ever before.
Note: This Illustration is only a cover page, as I will save this in case comic companies want to bring my character to life.
"As human beings, there is no such thing as normal. Because if God made us to be different, then that's the gift." SparkBoy, 2016
#superhero#teamhonour#sparkboy#sparkverse#comic art#cover art#electricity#adobe illustrator#adobe photoshop
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Servo: the young vigilante.
More superhero art finally completed. Here I reintroduce one of my first superhero characters I created when I was doing my GCSE exams at school.
Servo (real name as Edward Cassidy) is a pre-mature teenage vigilante who started becoming a crime-fighting hero at the age of fifteen. He is trained in martial arts and is skilled in kendo, which is the reason why he carries a katana-like sword with him.
After his older sister (who he looks up to though his whole young life) was brutality murdered by a duo of gang-related criminals, and of course, justice was not served properly, Edward changed himself into Servo. Ordinary teenager and school by day, but by night crimefighter.
#teamhonour#superhero#illustration#sparkboy#servo#vigilante#cityscape#sunset#crime fighting#katana#servosuperhero
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