Theaxofwar
Definitely not a Bunny Cat in disguise.
- Location
- Standing right behind you
[X] Answer yes. Police, Firemen, good men and women who risk their lives to help others.
Shining Example (WORM ORIGIN QUEST)
- Thread starter IKnowNothing
- Start date
Mellodi
Lord of Shits Not Given
- Location
- Australia
[X] Answer yes. Police, Firemen, good men and women who risk their lives to help others.
I'm voting this but does this mean we're going to have favours to repay for the powers? That doesn't really ever end well in my opinion, just bad decisions for bad problems
I'm voting this but does this mean we're going to have favours to repay for the powers? That doesn't really ever end well in my opinion, just bad decisions for bad problems
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
I don't know, you don't know. Three months ago you were told you would die in six months. And a minute ago, a Doctor asked if you believed in superheroes.
It's your choice where you go.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Answer yes. Police, Firemen, good men and women who risk their lives to help others.
We might as well act innocent until we know her intentions.
This is the wrong context for snark.
We might as well act innocent until we know her intentions.
This is the wrong context for snark.
- Location
- va
[X] Dodge the question by asking where Doctor Thomas is. And what kind of name is Doctor Mother?
- Pronouns
- They/He
[X] Answer yes. Police, Firemen, good men and women who risk their lives to help others.
[X] Answer yes. Police, Firemen, good men and women who risk their lives to help others
1.2: It Begins with an Answer
IKnowNothing
....What?
- Location
- I got lost so.....Where are we?
Out of all of the questions doctors have asked you, this is the strangest one yet. By far. They normally asked things like, how are you feeling? Do you need something? Do you want me to explain something from your report?
Simple things.
Not questions about your opinion.
It was a interesting change.
You blink at the thought. Just… whoa. Three months doing this, hearing statistics and bad news. But hearing someone else ask you for how you feel about something that isn't related to cancer is strange to you?
Suddenly, it feels like you've been in this bed for a lot longer than you remember.
Doctor Mother's expression hasn't changed. She waits, pen in hand, looking at you with the same passive expression. She looks like she could wait years for you to answer her question. You on the other hand, didn't have that much time.
The question itself is simple, yes, or no. But Doctor Mother looks at you like this question was as important as 'What is the meaning of life?'. There was purpose to this question, beyond the yes or no. She clearly expected you to think on it, given how long she's waiting for you to answer.
But off the top of your head, you have no idea. Is she talking about comic books? No, that's stupid. People flying around in skintight outfits? Who would think about that?
Then again, what kind of doctor is named Doctor Mother? That sounds like something out of a comic. You give her a wayward glance, but her expression remains set in stone.
"Yes." You say.
Doctor Mother clicks her pen, quickly your answer down along with a series of other notes that you can't check. She looks back, and slowly raises an eyebrow. It's the closest thing to a change in expression that you've seen from her so far.
It stays there, her expression going back to it's same motionless state. You blink in confusion "Do you want me to explain?"
Doctor Mother's expression doesn't change, but you get the impression that she thought it was obvious. Ignoring the growing feeling of embarrassment, you press on.
"Well, when I think of superhero, I don't really think of impossible things like stuff out of comic books. I think of people who have a choice to throw themselves into danger or run. They can chose not to help, but they do anyway. Police, fireman, they don't do it for the pay. They risk their lives and save people simply because they want to. They're good people, just trying to help."
"You sound hopeful." Doctor Mother identifies.
"I have three months to live," You say, the words feeling like acid on your tongue "My family still has hope, so I still have to. Anything that helps is ok by me."
Again, Doctor Mother records your answers with the same expressionless efficacy.
"You want to live because of your family?"
You blink. Her expression was still emotionless, her tone neutral, but it sounded like she was questioning if you had any other reason to live, beyond your family.
"Well… that's part of it yeah." You say "I want to see my brother get his doctorate, I want to see my sister graduate high school, I want to go to college. I can't do that if I die."
"Yet you don't believe you will make it?" The Doctor asks.
"I have cancer." You say, stating the obvious.
"I've heard of five year olds defeating cancer. I've seen reports of elderly men defeating this enemy." Doctor Mother says, "What makes you think that you can't?"
"I can beat this," You say, definitely, but your outburst only lasts so long "But after looking at the same report for the last few weeks.... I'd just rather have someone tell me the truth than feed me lie after lie."
Another note taken "What kind of lie?"
You stop and vaguely gesture at Doctor Mother "Well, no offense to you, but every time that a doctor sits down he tells me that they're working as hard as they can to cure me. But every time they tell me how I'm doing, they say I'm getting worse, not better."
Once again, a note is taken.
"Second to last question," Doctor Mother says "If I told you that I could cure you, what would you say in response?"
"I'd say that you're lying."
You don't need to think about it too hard. There was no cure to cancer, that's why it was called terminal sickness. Doctor Mother took another note and set her clipboard down. She grasped the handle of her suitcase, and propped up onto the table next to her.
"Acceptable. Now, final question. If, hypothetically, I was telling the truth, what would you be willing to do for me?"
You blink, where was this going? You wait for the other shoe to drop, for her hard exterior to drop and for her to apologize for all the seemingly random questions. A second passes, then a minute.
But nothing changes.
Your IV beeps louder as your pulse races in your chest. She… she's serious. She didn't admit it, but she was basically promising you that she could cure you.
No, she wasn't promising, she was guaranteeing that you would be saved.
The feeling triggers a chain reaction of emotions that feel almost foreign to you, like you haven't really felt them in years.
There's happiness, excitement, fear, trust, anticipation. They all come together to form a completely new emotion.
For the first time in months, you feel new.
You feel hopeful.
"If you could cure my cancer, then…"
The words die in your throat. Thoughts, visions rush to you. First, you're standing next to your father in a bar alongside your brother, celebrating your 21st birthday.
Clapping congratulations to your sister as she receives her diploma for graduating high school.
Talking to your mother for the first time in years.
Meeting a pretty girl, falling in love, and starting a family of your own.
If you could see all of that, experience all of that, have all of that, then…
"It would be a shorter list of the things I wouldn't do." You say.
Doctor Mother's lips curl, the barest echos of a smile fighting its way in. But she snuffs it out just as quickly as it comes. The suitcase opens with a click, and she turns the contents around towards you, holding it so the contents are within arms reach. Inside, you see eight vials filled with different colored liquid.
At least, you think they're liquid.
Each one of them seems to shift, morph or change altogether the longer you look at it. Just focusing one is enough to give you a headache. You redouble your efforts on Doctor Mother, sitting patiently behind the suitcase. She simply inclines her head, and waits for you to make a choice.
You get the feeling, no matter what you choose, Doctor Mother's promise would remain the same.
Then again, something else might come with it. You're not even going to bother asking her the side effects.
On the other hand, you have cancer. How much worse can it get?
You reach out, and pick the…
[] The vial that's pitch black. There's nothing special about it, it's just completely black. But you feel almost… In awe of it for some reason.
[] The Neon vial. It constantly shifts colors, vibrant reds, shining blues, almost like it was pulsing with some sort of power.
[] The clear vial. It's perfectly clear, with only a few air bubbles within it. However, the air bubbles are traveling in a circle up and down through the tube.
[] The green vial. The color seems to go from light, to dark, to emerald, always changing into a more complete version of the color than the one before it.
[] The silver vial. It looks like liquid metal, but within, you see it shift. One second, there's an orb, the next, a square.
[] The gold vial. It seems to almost shine with power, but it behaves strangely. The air bubbles seem to be trapped at the bottom of the vial, unable to rise to the top.
[] The blue vial. The liquid seems to swirl in it's own miniature whirlpool, spinning around and around with no stop.
[] The red vial. It looks completely solid, as if it could remain the same and strong even after the end of the world.
Simple things.
Not questions about your opinion.
It was a interesting change.
You blink at the thought. Just… whoa. Three months doing this, hearing statistics and bad news. But hearing someone else ask you for how you feel about something that isn't related to cancer is strange to you?
Suddenly, it feels like you've been in this bed for a lot longer than you remember.
Doctor Mother's expression hasn't changed. She waits, pen in hand, looking at you with the same passive expression. She looks like she could wait years for you to answer her question. You on the other hand, didn't have that much time.
The question itself is simple, yes, or no. But Doctor Mother looks at you like this question was as important as 'What is the meaning of life?'. There was purpose to this question, beyond the yes or no. She clearly expected you to think on it, given how long she's waiting for you to answer.
But off the top of your head, you have no idea. Is she talking about comic books? No, that's stupid. People flying around in skintight outfits? Who would think about that?
Then again, what kind of doctor is named Doctor Mother? That sounds like something out of a comic. You give her a wayward glance, but her expression remains set in stone.
"Yes." You say.
Doctor Mother clicks her pen, quickly your answer down along with a series of other notes that you can't check. She looks back, and slowly raises an eyebrow. It's the closest thing to a change in expression that you've seen from her so far.
It stays there, her expression going back to it's same motionless state. You blink in confusion "Do you want me to explain?"
Doctor Mother's expression doesn't change, but you get the impression that she thought it was obvious. Ignoring the growing feeling of embarrassment, you press on.
"Well, when I think of superhero, I don't really think of impossible things like stuff out of comic books. I think of people who have a choice to throw themselves into danger or run. They can chose not to help, but they do anyway. Police, fireman, they don't do it for the pay. They risk their lives and save people simply because they want to. They're good people, just trying to help."
"You sound hopeful." Doctor Mother identifies.
"I have three months to live," You say, the words feeling like acid on your tongue "My family still has hope, so I still have to. Anything that helps is ok by me."
Again, Doctor Mother records your answers with the same expressionless efficacy.
"You want to live because of your family?"
You blink. Her expression was still emotionless, her tone neutral, but it sounded like she was questioning if you had any other reason to live, beyond your family.
"Well… that's part of it yeah." You say "I want to see my brother get his doctorate, I want to see my sister graduate high school, I want to go to college. I can't do that if I die."
"Yet you don't believe you will make it?" The Doctor asks.
"I have cancer." You say, stating the obvious.
"I've heard of five year olds defeating cancer. I've seen reports of elderly men defeating this enemy." Doctor Mother says, "What makes you think that you can't?"
"I can beat this," You say, definitely, but your outburst only lasts so long "But after looking at the same report for the last few weeks.... I'd just rather have someone tell me the truth than feed me lie after lie."
Another note taken "What kind of lie?"
You stop and vaguely gesture at Doctor Mother "Well, no offense to you, but every time that a doctor sits down he tells me that they're working as hard as they can to cure me. But every time they tell me how I'm doing, they say I'm getting worse, not better."
Once again, a note is taken.
"Second to last question," Doctor Mother says "If I told you that I could cure you, what would you say in response?"
"I'd say that you're lying."
You don't need to think about it too hard. There was no cure to cancer, that's why it was called terminal sickness. Doctor Mother took another note and set her clipboard down. She grasped the handle of her suitcase, and propped up onto the table next to her.
"Acceptable. Now, final question. If, hypothetically, I was telling the truth, what would you be willing to do for me?"
You blink, where was this going? You wait for the other shoe to drop, for her hard exterior to drop and for her to apologize for all the seemingly random questions. A second passes, then a minute.
But nothing changes.
Your IV beeps louder as your pulse races in your chest. She… she's serious. She didn't admit it, but she was basically promising you that she could cure you.
No, she wasn't promising, she was guaranteeing that you would be saved.
The feeling triggers a chain reaction of emotions that feel almost foreign to you, like you haven't really felt them in years.
There's happiness, excitement, fear, trust, anticipation. They all come together to form a completely new emotion.
For the first time in months, you feel new.
You feel hopeful.
"If you could cure my cancer, then…"
The words die in your throat. Thoughts, visions rush to you. First, you're standing next to your father in a bar alongside your brother, celebrating your 21st birthday.
Clapping congratulations to your sister as she receives her diploma for graduating high school.
Talking to your mother for the first time in years.
Meeting a pretty girl, falling in love, and starting a family of your own.
If you could see all of that, experience all of that, have all of that, then…
"It would be a shorter list of the things I wouldn't do." You say.
Doctor Mother's lips curl, the barest echos of a smile fighting its way in. But she snuffs it out just as quickly as it comes. The suitcase opens with a click, and she turns the contents around towards you, holding it so the contents are within arms reach. Inside, you see eight vials filled with different colored liquid.
At least, you think they're liquid.
Each one of them seems to shift, morph or change altogether the longer you look at it. Just focusing one is enough to give you a headache. You redouble your efforts on Doctor Mother, sitting patiently behind the suitcase. She simply inclines her head, and waits for you to make a choice.
You get the feeling, no matter what you choose, Doctor Mother's promise would remain the same.
Then again, something else might come with it. You're not even going to bother asking her the side effects.
On the other hand, you have cancer. How much worse can it get?
You reach out, and pick the…
[] The vial that's pitch black. There's nothing special about it, it's just completely black. But you feel almost… In awe of it for some reason.
[] The Neon vial. It constantly shifts colors, vibrant reds, shining blues, almost like it was pulsing with some sort of power.
[] The clear vial. It's perfectly clear, with only a few air bubbles within it. However, the air bubbles are traveling in a circle up and down through the tube.
[] The green vial. The color seems to go from light, to dark, to emerald, always changing into a more complete version of the color than the one before it.
[] The silver vial. It looks like liquid metal, but within, you see it shift. One second, there's an orb, the next, a square.
[] The gold vial. It seems to almost shine with power, but it behaves strangely. The air bubbles seem to be trapped at the bottom of the vial, unable to rise to the top.
[] The blue vial. The liquid seems to swirl in it's own miniature whirlpool, spinning around and around with no stop.
[] The red vial. It looks completely solid, as if it could remain the same and strong even after the end of the world.
Theaxofwar
Definitely not a Bunny Cat in disguise.
- Location
- Standing right behind you
[X] The blue vial. The liquid seems to swirl in it's own miniature whirlpool, spinning around and around with no stop.
- Location
- va
[X] The silver vial. It looks like liquid metal, but within, you see it shift. One second, there's an orb, the next, a square.
StellarMonarch
Myrmidon
- Location
- Québec
First of all, excellent writing, except for the occasional grammar mistakes.
Eight vials... one for each Power classification?
Eight vials... one for each Power classification?
StellarMonarch
Myrmidon
- Location
- Québec
[X] The Neon vial. It constantly shifts colors, vibrant reds, shining blues, almost like it was pulsing with some sort of power.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There are 12, actually.
I'm finding it very difficult to choose, since the differences don't really give much of a hint. But I'm gonna go with this.
[X] The vial that's pitch black. There's nothing special about it, it's just completely black. But you feel almost… In awe of it for some reason.
Feels like a really interesting choice, if that's the sense we're getting from it. I do wonder if it's gonna be a Master classification or something.
- Location
- Bologna
[X] The gold vial. It seems to almost shine with power, but it behaves strangely. The air bubbles seem to be trapped at the bottom of the vial, unable to rise to the top.
StellarMonarch
Myrmidon
- Location
- Québec
I think Stranger fits better.
