Next Gen- Academy for heroes discussion
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by
Kaylee~
(new)
Sep 29, 2011 01:58PM

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Madison sat there, leaning back in his chair, holding a book of riddles. His teachers always told him not to lean in his chair like that, before he transferred. But at Next Gen, most of the teachers were pretty cool so he didn't need to deal with that anymore. After his conversation with Moses, he had decided that the rolling hills of the field weren't good for staying isolated anymore. But in the library people were quiet. Most of the time.
Madison's eyes slowly glanced up from his book to see the girl staring at him. That rarely happened. He moved to let the chair go back to normal and sat up. "Hello."
She was shy. That was fine, he usually was like that as well. But he was curious now. Why had she been staring at him? Its not like he looked any different than the other kids. But whatever. He returned to his book.

"Go ahead." He didn't bother to look up from his book. If she had nothing more to say then a simple question, he had nothing more to say then a simple answer. He came to the library to read and have some silence, not to socialize.
He put his own book down. He needed to write down the problem to try to figure it out. He doubted he could solve it any other way. Madison scribbled furiously on a piece of paper, scrawling, scratching out, re-scrawling. He couldn't solve it for the life of him. Sighing, he began to stand up.
"Doubt you could. Pretty freaking advanced riddle and I can't even begin to solve it." He didn't care if he sounded ignorant, he was annoyed. Mostly at the riddle, but it bled over to her. He tried to distract himself from it. "What's the book?"
"That still doesn't tell me what it is. The cover is ripped off, I can't exactly read the title," he said pointedly.

"Has it talked about whaling yet? Thats a good way to tell if its Moby Dick." He didn't like her smirk. What was so funny? "Ooh. Did it start with 'call me Ishmael'? Thats another good way to tell. How the heck don't you know what book it is. You're reading it."
"One of the greatest ways to enjoy classic literature: skim through an author's life work." He rolled his eyes and turned to leave.

He turned back. "You honestly think you can solve the riddle? I bet you can't. And I don't need to read at a fast pace. Comprehension is the important thing, not speed."
"Doesn't matter from person to person. Speed is highly irrelevant in a reading environment. Comprehension and appreciation is what matters."
"Never said you were. But I did say that speed doesn't matter. And that you can't solve the riddle."
"Fine." He slid it across the table.
I turn polar bears white
and I will make you cry.
I make guys have to pee
and girls comb their hair.
I make celebrities look stupid
and normal people look like celebrities.
I turn pancakes brown
and make your champagne bubble.
If you squeeze me, I'll pop.
If you look at me, you'll pop.
Can you guess the riddle?
((No google.))
I turn polar bears white
and I will make you cry.
I make guys have to pee
and girls comb their hair.
I make celebrities look stupid
and normal people look like celebrities.
I turn pancakes brown
and make your champagne bubble.
If you squeeze me, I'll pop.
If you look at me, you'll pop.
Can you guess the riddle?
((No google.))
"Yeah. I actually hadn't thought about that. But that only works for about 4 or 5." It dawned on him. "I think I get it. I bet you won't figure it out within three more guesses."
((Okay.))
"What's with the look? It took me at least ten guesses till I figured it out. If you do get in three, that will be bet-winning worthy."
"What's with the look? It took me at least ten guesses till I figured it out. If you do get in three, that will be bet-winning worthy."
((And so you used google. Saddens me :/))
"Oh. That is the correct answer, kinda. The answer involves the last line, the actual question: Can you answer this riddle. So yeah, No is a perfectly acceptable answer." He shrugged. "Impressive guess work."
"Oh. That is the correct answer, kinda. The answer involves the last line, the actual question: Can you answer this riddle. So yeah, No is a perfectly acceptable answer." He shrugged. "Impressive guess work."

She scratched her head,"Really I ment that I'm not going to give you an answer, but that works too."
"In any case." He fished out a silver dollar and flipped it to her. "See you around....what is your name?"
((Okay, I'll believe you))
((Okay, I'll believe you))

"Nice to meet you Callie. My name's Madison. The money is for winning the bet." He gave a tiny smile. "Keep it as a token of my respect." He snapped and a portal opened on the wall nearest to him and on the library door. He waved as he stepped through one portal and out the other, walking off. A few seconds later, the portals disappeared.
((And fade))
((And fade))


Benedict was seated at the long, solid-wood table in the middle of the room, waiting for the teacher to show up. I thought math was supposed to be in here, he thought, blinking blindly as a beam of sunshine from the large window caught him right in the eye. Trying to avoid having to stare into the light for the duration of his time here, he moved around to the other side of the table and settled into the arm chair just in time to see a girl walk in. Hoping she'd be able to inform him whether or not he was in the right place, he stood and made his way over to her. "Isn't math class supposed to be in here?" he asked in a library-whisper. Realizing that probably sounded rather abrupt and random, he amended, "I'm Benedict, by the way. I'm new here."

((Sorry, she's a little harsh. ^^'))
((And, unfortunately, Benedict's non-confrontational))
Embarrassed, he glanced about the library for other, more friendly occupants. Seeing no one, he said, "I believe it would take less than a second to give me a yes or no."
Embarrassed, he glanced about the library for other, more friendly occupants. Seeing no one, he said, "I believe it would take less than a second to give me a yes or no."
