Realm of the InterNutter

Sara’s mom and Scott have a chat during her wait while attempting to do a bit of step work with Sara. Scott actually receives good advice from her in the process, albeit slightly jaundiced in delivery.

Jacquelline Adrien had changed a lot since Scott last laid eyes on her. Gone was the Pink Chanel power suit and the ludicrously small hat. Gone were the Label accessories and the solid layer of Mary Kaye cosmetics. Gone, too, were about five pounds of alcohol-fueled jelly rolls.

This was Jacqui. Smaller in more ways than just the physical. She fiddled nervously with an AA chip in one hand, and the hem of a purple summer dress with the other.

Sara, Scott knew, was inside the auditorium doing a TED talk. He was there to pick her up, since his trunk was more spacious than Eileen’s saddlebags. Sara and her visual aids…

“You could always try sleight of hand,” he suggested. “Coin tricks? You know, for something to do.”

“I can’t settle to anything. I can’t sit still. I’m so terrified,” she confessed. She held out her hands to show how much she was trembling. “Look.”

“Ninth step?” he guessed.

“Ninth step.” Jacqui nodded. She reached into a burlap environment bag and picked out some crochet, and fumbled her way through a single treble stitch. “I don’t even know how I could possibly help her at all. She’s grown so much without me…”

_She was doing that before you sobered up,_ thought Scott, but kept it to himself.

“Do you plan on having a family?” she asked out of the blue. Her fingers kneaded her ball of yarn anxiously.

“If the lady’s amenable,” he allowed.

“Don’t ever let them grow up without you. And believe me, there’s ways to be there and… not be there for them. It’s a male belief that as long as one provides, then the family is grateful. You have to provide your time and involvement, too.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“I missed out on it with Sara. I thought I could jam her into this… perfect child mould and be the envy of everyone. Meanwhile, she was turning into someone wonderful all by herself. And I didn’t want to see it because…” she sighed and put away the crocheting again. “Envy is not a worthy goal. It breeds jealousy and spite and many other horrible things. It took me way too long to see that.”

Applause filled the auditorium. Sara would be taking her bows and gathering her props. And they would be asking her back because she covered such dire subjects with almost irresponsible levity and still made people think about it.

Stuff like the Ignorance Bubble. A speech that included Jacquelline and the short, sharp shock that popped her reality… all without naming names or making anything obvious.

Mother had broken daughter. Daughter then fixed herself and broke mother, only so she could fix her up. It was strange, to think how some did the breaking, and others did the fixing.

He’d have to ask Sara about the breaker-fixer dichotomy on the way home.

Maybe she’d put it in her next talk.

[Muse food remaining: 9. Submit a prompt! Ask a question!]

Morning becomes eccentric.

It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t fair. Sharing the same house with someone who operated in a different time zone was every colour of unfairness.

“Good morning, good mor-ning,” she sang. “You’ve worked the whole night through, good morning, good morning to you.”

And it was really unfair that he loved her beyond all reason. Because mornings made him grumpy.

He was a night-owl. She was a morning person.

Shayde’s first day taking dancing lessons.

[AN: Shayde’s first dancing lesson was when she was a 5YO Katie Walker…But I’ll take ‘modern’ 25thC dance]

“And left… No, the other left. Stage left!”

“Ow!” Shayde flinched away. “How’s someone so skinny so darn heavy?”

“I’m denser than I look.”

“Ye can say that twice,” Shayde muttered. “Why

The 5th oldest trick in the book and the simpleton who fell for it.

As kidnappers went, this fellow was not particularly bright. He’d definitely dotted on to the idea that one should grab the most vulnerable member and attempt to extort money from the remaining family.

He’d forgotten that the remaining family most convenient to this situation was an Augmented St. Bernard by the name of Nanny. Who operated on a schedule of events and was now

Julie, Nana, buckets of paint and why artists sometimes get away from themselves.

Nanny the Augmented dog had fallen asleep by Julie’s easel. That much was evident from the paint spatter on her cloak and skirt. And Julie had opened all the paint cans in a flight of colour-inspired fancy. That was evident from the rainbows of new spatter all over the floors and walls.

What wasn’t instantly evident to Raak was how the two of them had

In lieu of college or teaching at the institute, Sam Adrien offers Scott Summers an internship upon graduation. Creeping doom raises the hackles on Scott’s neck subconsciously.

He did it. He passed the bar. He was now entitled to enter the cut-throat world of the law. And very possibly defend his fellow mutants against the slings and arrows of outrageous senators who, say, wanted to ban mutants.

Sam Adrien, like many blonds, was going darker in his old age. On