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Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Sentinel on Mon Dec 26, 2016 8:52 pm

~Bridget~

"It's... Bridget, is this real?" Courtney stared from the letter to me, alternating. We were in my holding cell - okay, my "room" - and I had called her in specifically for a... special favor.

"There's only one way to find out. Please, you have to help me," I pleaded. The blonde sighed, pushing her bangs out of her eyes.

"Bridge... you're smart. Trust me, I know. I've seen your IQ score," Courtney said. I nodded.

"So, you know I can't enable you. Right?" she continued, staring into my eyes. I frowned.

"Courtney... you know there's nothing wrong with me. Please, you have to know that. Whatever this is, I have to be a part of." I stared at her with pleading eyes. She has to believe me... she needs to trust me on this.

My aide looked around at the room. "...Bridget... fuck. Okay. Dammit, okay, you're right. It's like I'm the only one here who knows you aren't really... you know..."

"Nuts," I said. Courtney shook her head.

"Let's not use that term. But, yeah, not mentally ill. To be honest, I don't know what you are exactly, besides innocent. Your parents, whoever they were, had no right to abandon you the way they did."

Courtney pulled out a pen, writing down a phone number on the back of my hand. "And I don't have any intention of doing the same. Whether this place is real or not, keep in touch. Let me know you're safe."

I stood up. "What about you? You're going to be in major trouble if you get me out of here." Part of Courtney's contract stated that she was forbidden from take patients out of St. Dymphna's. Don't ask me how I know that.

To my surprise, she smiled. "Well, we both might have lucked out tonight. I wasn't sure whether to tell you or not, but since we're about to do this... I quit. As of midnight tonight, I'm not gonna work in this hellhole."

My mouth dropped open. "But I thought you liked-"

"I like helping those in need," Courtney explained. "But Dymphna's doesn't. You've seen the conditions here. Once I quit, I'm gonna start a campaign against this place. Who knows what else they're doing here?"

My only friend wrapped her arms around me. "Remember to contact me when and if you can, and let me know you're safe. You're a very intelligent girl, Bridget. I believe in you."

Arm in arm, Courtney and I exited my room, walking down the halls of St. Dymphna's. Despite everything I knew, I had no idea what I was getting us into.

(also yes Writing)
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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by WritingBookworm on Mon Dec 26, 2016 8:55 pm

SEPTEMBER 1ST, 1:00AM EST

- Lucille -

I wait until the late hours of the night.

I don't own much -- just enough to fit into a gray hiking backpack that I sling over my shoulder. Taking care to make sure I don't step on any sensitive, noisy areas of the floor, I tiptoe through the hideout, slip to the door --

I hear the cocking of a gun behind me.

"And just where do you think you're going, little swiftshot?"

Slowly, very, very slowly, I turn around to meet Seth's eyes, his too-blue irises glinting in the dark. He does not look pleased.

"Don't think I didn't see you, you know," he says. "Don't think I didn't see you pick up that letter. Who are you in correspondence with? Huh?"

"I . . . I'm not corresponding with anyone, I swear -- "

Seth crosses over and slaps me across the face, hard.

"Bullshit," he says. He seizes my face and rams the barrel of his pistol underneath my chin. "Who was it?" His fingernails dig into my cheek so hard that I whimper. "Who was it?"

"No one, I'm telling you the truth, I wasn't corresponding with anyone -- "

His grip around my face tightens. "Then tell me who sent the damn letter."

I close my eyes as the pain increases, tears biting at the edges of my eyelids, and oh god oh god oh god I'm screwed I'm gonna die Lance died for nothing --

But he couldn't have.

He couldn't have died for nothing.

Lance didn't sacrifice himself so I would be a victim to some gang leader who thinks he's worth more than he actually is.

A swift kick to the kneecaps sends him stumbling away --

And then I will it to come.

A simple push of willpower, and suddenly the world changes. Seth still stumbles back. But then I see a faint shadow of Seth as well, like a transparent clone. That shadow of Seth lifts his gun once again, pointing it at my throat before pulling the trigger. The real Seth, however, is still stumbling back. That shadow of Seth is just a faint vision of the future, showing me what he's going to do next. And by showing me what he's going to do next, I know exactly how to avoid it.

The real Seth reaches for his gun, as expected. He cocks it, tries to point it at me --

I've sidestepped to the side before he can aim it, and in seconds take his arm and wrench it behind his back in a bone-crushing grip.

Seth screams. The shadow of future Seth shows me he too will adopt my trick and kick my kneecaps. I have him pinned down on the ground before that can happen.

He's disarmed in a second, and now, I'm the one holding the gun to his throat.

"No, no," Seth says, sweat trailing down his face. "Please, please, no!"

I tilt my head to the side. It's interesting, how I'd feared him before. How is it that I feared a man so cowardly?

I decide not to kill him. After being essentially Seth's personal sniper, I think I've had enough of killing for the time being. But I do shoot his foot, so he can't go after me.

The first thing I do after leaving the building is find a phone booth and call 911. I tell them where exactly to find Seth Nixon and his gang, and then I am gone.


8:30AM EST


- Maxwell -

"I still don't think this is a good idea," my mother, Elsa Grayson, says as she walks alongside me, heading to the station. "What of Detective Charleston?"

"She's a smart woman," I say. "She can keep track and anticipate crime just fine without her Sentinel frequently calling in."

"Even so, what this Harwell's Institute has done is ridiculous. Sending you a letter, asking them to come literally a day before you're expected to show up? Do they realize how much money it is to suddenly by a plane ticket from Seattle to the East Coast?"

"Some of the most life-altering decisions must be made in an instant, mother," I say. "I suppose superhumans need to learn that."

I look over to the suitcase Mom drags behind her. She'd remarked on how heavy it had seemed, even for a heavy packer such as myself.

Oh, if only she took a moment to see what was inside.

I keep my smile to myself, eyeing the suitcase. I might be going. But something is coming along with me.
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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Shaybaysasuke on Mon Dec 26, 2016 9:31 pm

11 pm

~Riada~

"Well boys, are you packed finally?" Dad asked, standing against the doorway with his arms crossed, a fond smile on his face.

"Yep! I think I got everything, anyway," I said, trying to cram my messy suitcase closed.

"Yes, father. I've double checked and everything," Adair said from his side of the room, already sitting next to a neatly closed case. I stuck my tongue out at him and he smirked.

"I can always send anything you forget," dad said with a chuckle, mainly to me because we all knew Mr. Perfect wouldn't forget a thing.

He crossed the room and pulled us both into a hug, "I'm going to miss you two, so much. I hope you know that."

"Well, yeah dad." "Of course Father."

He smiled again, standing back and looking at us with misty eyes. Then he reached his hands up and ruffled our hair, "Goodnight, Adair, Riada. I'll wake you up bright and early to catch that train."

We said goodnight to him and as Adair was about to crawl into bed I grabbed his arm. He gave me a questioning look and I cocked my head towards the mirror next to us, "Come with me. There's a party and I've told them all we're leaving so they told me to bring you along."

"Why would they want me there?" he asked with a laugh, "I'm not the party type."

"It's everyone from school, a bunch of your friends go too. It's not all the sketchy kids, y'know," I said and when he still didn't look convinced I gave him a pleading look, "Pleeeease? It's the last party either of us will get to go to in a long time. Don't let it pass you by."

He stared at me and I could tell he was calculating every risk. Then he sighed, shaking his head with a smile, "Fine, but not too late, Father is getting us up really early tomorrow."

I grinned and we both looked to the mirror, disappearing from our house to another...

8:30 am


~Adair~

I chuckled as Riada sat beside me, looking sicker than ever. He was so hungover. As soon as we reached the party he was off drinking with his friends while I awkwardly stood in the corner chatting with my own. I did try one drink but it was so strong I had to stop. The night was fun, I had to admit, but we barely made it home on time and only got about 2 hours of sleep. Riada was drunk and I was mentally drained.

"You are so lucky Father had to go to work and couldn't see us off," I said, nudging him with my elbow.

"Shhhhh, too much noise. Too bad a headache," he said, groaning and rolling over on the limo's seat, "Bad idea, too much to drink."

"Now you say so," I said with a laugh, looking out the window as we pulled into the train station, "Well come on, party boy, we've got a train to catch.

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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Fix-It on Mon Dec 26, 2016 10:23 pm

~ Loretta ~
I stare at myself through the glass window of the taxi. I had barely slept, and it definitely showed. But that wasn't anyone's fault but my own! I shouldn't have spent so much time packing...I probably didn't even need most of the stuff crammed inside my suitcase. But, I think it's better to be safe than sorry! This school is pretty far from home so I can't just run back and grab what I need!

Pretty far from home...

Stop thinking like that! I internally slap myself and wipe my eyes before any tears can form. This is for the best! I can actually be a superhero if I go to this school! And meet other people with superpowers! Like dad said...I should take this opportunity. And it's not like I'll never see my parents again! I'll write to them and i'll call them all the time. I just won't see them as often. That's all!

But, I need to make the last moments count!

The taxi pulls to a stop. I turn to my parents, who were sitting to my left, and grin.

~ Summer ~
I step out of the car, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I hadn't bothered to take a limousine, even if I could have. I knew no one else would arrive in one, and I really didn't want to attract attention when i'm trying to sneak away from it all. I pulled a hood over my head, and dragged my suitcase behind me. I had to stay subtle until I boarded the train. I look down at my phone as I walk, trying to look as typical as I possibly can.

I've never been good at hiding.

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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by WritingBookworm on Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:05 pm

- Valerie -

"Ugh, why is it so hot?" I say as I step out of my personal limosuine, lifting my arm up in a futile attempt to shield the blinding sun.

I look around at the area. The station mentioned in the letter is an outdoor station, with some timetables and benches under the shade. I fan my face with my hand. Shade is already sounding nice right now . . .

Two of the servants exit the limo and go around to the back of the trunk, lifting out all of my six suitcases. A girl needs all her clothes, after all. And all of her gloves, I think grimly.

I hold my hand out in front of me and spread out my fingers. The gloves are black today, to match my tight jeans of the same color. But since the gloves are black, my fingers already start to feel sweaty underneath. I give a forlorn sigh.

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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Lady Senbonzakura on Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:26 pm

For the first time, Gretchen was on her own.

And it was terrifying.

She pulled her luggage behind her, careful not to roll it in puddles or anything else that might dirty it. She did her best to weave in and out of people pushing past her. She wasn't quite sure where she was going, but she had faith she'd know her destination when she saw it. She thought, anyway.

Passing a sign marking 5, she saw two brunettes in front of her. She could see their long hair, and that one was on a phone, and she almost assumed them to be girls until she heard one of them speaking...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Yes. Yes, we're here. Yes, we are! I can see the signs. What colo- what does that matter?"

Lachtna listened to one side of the conversation happening next to him as Fiachra bickered into his cellphone. Domhnall had been through all of this before, he remembered, so being able to ask him questions couldn't hurt, especially if he could offer good advice or fair warnings.

However, they had forgotten that when it came to family, Domhnall was a plain Beverly Goldberg; a smother-brother if there ever was one. He was calm most of the time, but Lachtna remembered running to Mama when Domhnall wouldn't let him do something "for his own safety."

They should've seen this coming. They really should've.

Getting a tighter grip on his shoulder bag, Lachtna dared to open his mouth. "What does he want?" he asked.

Fiachra rolled his eyes, tilting the speaker of the phone away from his mouth to answer his twin. "He wants to know what color the signs are to prove we're already here and not meeting some drug lords or something."

"Oh sweet Jesus."

"They're green, with yellow letters. Would you please relax? We ain't lost!"

Absently looking up at the signs in question, Lachtna noticed they were walking past markers for 9 and 10. Smirking, he nudged and elbowed Fiachra. Raising the pitch of his voice slightly and putting on a posh British accent, he said: "Excuse me, sir, can you tell me where I might find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?"

He smiled at Lachtna, before sighing back into the cellphone. "Listen, you're using all the battery on my phone. I promise that if we have any questions, we'll call you, ok? Love you, too. Of course I do. Bye."

Fiachra ended the call before forcing the phone into his jacket pocket.

"I have a question." 

"Yeah?"

"If Harwell's is so great," he began, twisting an arm around his brother's so that they could be linked, "why'd he quit?"
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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Sentinel on Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:42 pm

1 September 2017
8:30 AM, CST

~Vincent~

My parents took it pretty well.

They didn't believe me at first, of course. I had to teleport in front of them so they could understand. It was pretty tough to watch them come to terms with the fact that their adopted child was a freak, but to my gratefulness, they forgave me - and my sister - for keeping this a secret.

In a few hours, my family and I arrived at the train station. We said our goodbyes, and I watched as my family drove off back home.

My suitcases stood next to me. And I stood alone.

~Bridget~

This is it.

Courtney was generous enough to give me some new clothes, a suitcase, and some money, as well as take me to the station. But the rest, I was confident to do on my own, despite her objections. I didn't see myself in any foreseeable danger. Any immediate danger, that is.

I glanced down at the phone number she wrote down on my hand. I already had it memorized, but a part of me didn't want to wash it off. I didn't know when I would be able to see her again. Whatever the case is, I'd have to call her when I got settled in at Harwell's.

First, I had a train to catch.

~Tristen~

"A train? Really?" I muttered something unintelligible yet decidedly obscene to myself.

"It has to be secret. Can't have criminal masterminds killing off the future of the planet," my father explained.

"...but a train? Am I a wizard now?"

I wasn't paying attention to anything, just staring out the taxi window, but I had a feeling my dad rolled his eyes. I was rolling my own... just for a different reason. This whole thing seemed... weird. The heroes of old never needed a school, did they? So why did we have to have one? Wouldn't they think the kids who survived all this time to get accepted wouldn't need any more help?

Whatever. Maybe I can make something out of this. After all, I get to meet mutants like myself. How bad can that be?
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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Fix-It on Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:55 pm

~ Loretta ~
And then it's over. The taxi drives away, my parents inside. I want to cry...but I can't! Not in public, at least. I just have to keep looking at the positive side of it all. I stare into the distance as the taxi fades.

I inhale, and look forward with a smile. I'll make them proud! I'll stop all the bad guys all on my own! They'll boast to everyone that their daughter is the most awesome superhero ever!

I take a step, then another. My suitcase wheels behind me.

I'm finally going to be exactly who I want to be.

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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by WritingBookworm on Mon Dec 26, 2016 11:59 pm

- Valerie -

It's not before long that other people arrive. A few taxis pull up, a girl in a hood texts on her phone, and a blonde boy says goodbye to his parents before they take off.

His parents seem to care. I bet my mom could learn a few things from them.

I look away from the scene, and instead watch the servants continue taking stuff out of the trunk. "Can you guys work any slower?" I mutter.


- Maxwell -

Well, it seems some of the gang is already here.

I keep my finger pressed down on a button on my electric wheelchair, gliding up to the train station as Mom follows with my luggage. I already begin to observe them -- the girl with waist-length blonde hair that looks like she could get off her high horse, for instance. Another girl, younger than most, with a matching set of purple hair and purple eyes. And then the girl in the hood . . . I smirk to myself, instantly recognizing the face. Oh, I don't need to hack into any dossiers to recognize the sensation Summer Matthews. I never did like any of her music.

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Re: Harwell's Institute for the Fairly Exceptional

Post by Sentinel on Tue Dec 27, 2016 12:08 am

~Vincent~

I glanced around at the other people here. Quite a few rich people, though there were some that seemed just as normal as I was. A girl in a hoodie, some twins, even a guy in a wheelchair.

I had no idea what to do. Nobody else seemed to be in the socializing mood, and maybe that was because it was kinda early - early for me, at least. I kept my distance, sure that some people would need it.
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