Story [Multi-fandom] random prompt thread- updated 12/8/17! (Stranger Things cont'd)

Thank you to @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @Mira_Jade, and @earlybird-obi-wan for the awesome reviews. That will piece was a pleasure to write and you will see more with that character after this next set.

Dad

The people of Hawkins, Indiana knew Jim Hopper. They had known him as a mischievous child, a gruff, but honorable teen, and as a doting husband and father. That was before Sarah passed. The Chief had changed then, reverting to the gruff, but less honorable boy he had been. He had not cratered entirely, but Sarah’s death had embittered him to a point that his wife could not console him. Their divorce was amicable, but it left Jim without a rudder. He continued to be the Chief of Police, doing a commendable job, but retreating into his grief and depression when not on the job. His reputation suffered when he began dating again, leaving a trail of scornful women in his wake.

According to some, it was the case of Will Byers abduction that changed Jim Hopper; that revitalized him. Those close to the case said, he was doubtful at first, thinking that Will had simply stayed the night at a friend’s house. But when it became clear that Will as nowhere to be found, Hopper came to life with a dogged determination to find him. When Beyer’s body was discovered at the quarry, the Chief was seized by a peculiar grimness, laced with denial and a galvanized resolve discover the truth. A truth, that all but few was seemed obvious: Will Byers was dead.

Hawkins was shocked when a couple of days later the was found, scared and weak, but otherwise unharmed. Accompanying his return were rumors of black cars and vans in residential neighborhoods, a strange girl (nearly bald at times, longer blonde hair at others) appearing at the school and local market, and the true disappearance of teenager Barbara Holland.

Jim Hopper had changed. Though his gruff exterior was still in place, he seemed lighter on his feet and there was glint in his eye that belied a healing that he neither acknowledged nor speak of.

18 months passed, without incident, until the day Chief Jim Hopper appeared in Middle School administrative office with a new daughter and a nervous smile.


Daughter

The people of Hawkins, Indiana did not know Jane Hopper. She was an enigma to most on first meeting her. She was shy, didn’t talk much, and when she did, it was with as few words as possible. She was a pretty girl with natural brown curls and brown eyes which both welcomed and warned everyone she encountered. She was slight, but not awkward as some girls her age. In fact she walked with a purpose, even appeared the lean into her walk, showing excellent control. This was not say that she was self-possessed and ready to take on all challenges. Her awkwardness was social rather than physical. The good news was that she seemed to have a ready-made set of friends who would help her fit in.

Jane arrived in Hawkins was a few months after the Department of Energy closed the doors of their local lab. Murmurs from local conspiracy theorists hinted at Psychic experiments using children as guinea pigs. Was Jane a cast off of the Hawkins Lab experiments? Discerning minds dismissed this of hand and had no reason to disbelieve the Chief’s story of a cousin out west whom had passed away leaving a 14 year old daughter without a parent or a home.

With all eyes on her, Jane Hopper remained contentedly reserved and only seemed to blossom in the presence of her new father, local teen Mike Wheeler, and their close knit group of friends.

 

Wonderfully insightful seeing how "Dad" and "Daughter" are to themselves and appear to others in the community

 

great insight in Dad and Daughter and how they interact in the community of Hawkins

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: thanks for the review, Nyota. I think I'm going to come back over here and do more ST and ST for a bit. We'll see.
@earlybird-obi-wan: Hello earlybird! I hope you're doing well. Thank you for following these Stranger Things fics. I appreciate it.

Debut

Scott Clarke reviewed the day’s attendance sheet, stopping momentarily on the name Jane Hopper. Today was her first day at Hawkins Middle. It was also his first day and he knew well that Chief Hopper, his daughter Jane, and the AV Club were instrumental in his transition to the new school. Obviously, they would not have been able to do it had he not agreed. However, given the pleading of students and the genuine request of the Chief, he had agreed.

He saw her enter the classroom with Mike Wheeler and Max Mayfield and smiled in greeting, adding an approving nod. He stood from his desk and moved to the front of the class. A few students had yet to arrive, including Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson.

“Okay, class,” he intoned to get their attention. “Time to settle down.”

He nodded at Mike and scanned the classroom as the rustling of papers and smatterings of conversation died away. He was pleased with way the class listened and prepared for ‘home room’.

“My name is Mr. Clarke and I’ll be your homeroom teacher and your science teacher this year. It is my first year at Hawkins Middle and I think that is a good thing for all of us given that I know many of you from last year. Before we go any further, I would like to introduce a new student. She is new to Hawkins, new to this school, and new to many of you. Her name is Jane Hopper.”

He reached out his hand in a vague pointing gesturing in her direction. When she did not stand, he turned his attention to her more intently. She had flushed pink and seemed to be hiding behind her backpack which sat on her desk in front of her. He could see that Max and Mike were trying to encourage her, but it only seemed to make her shrink further into her seat.

He walked down the aisle to her seat and gestured for Max and Mike to end their motivations.

“Is everything okay, Miss Hopper?” he inquired with genuine concern.

Jane nodded, but did not speak. Though Clarke had met Jane before today, it was clear that she was mortified by his public introduction. He decided to let it go. He knew she was shy, but had not expected her to shrink in fear. As he turned back to the front of the classroom, he caught glimpses of Mike and Max mixing their pleading (for her to speak up) and understanding (of it being overwhelming) expressions. He smiled and started to address the class again. He was pleasantly interrupted.

“El,” she said, softly.

He turned back to her raising his eyebrows in anticipation and curiosity. “Say that one more time, Miss Hopper. I didn’t hear you.”

“Please call me El,” she repeated.

“It’s a nickname,” Mike was quick to add.

“Very well then, El,” Clarke replied with a quirk of his lips. “Welcome. Okay, let’s start the roll call.”

 

I like Mr. Clarke -- he's warm and sympathetic without coddling or being pushy. Love that Max and Mike are silently encouraging.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thanks for reading and reviewing, Nyota. I am so thankful for the support! Mr. Clarke is just as you describe on the show and his role is an important one.

Debrief

When Hopper picked El up from school, he could tell something was wrong. She had been apprehensive about her first day, which was natural, but she was, ultimately, determined to make the best of it. She opened the door of the Bronco slowly and tossed her bag into the foot well. She climbed in, buckled up, and stared out her window in heartbreaking silence.

He started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot heading home. He decided not to press her for details, but waited for her to bring it up in her time. When she had not spoken, or moved, in the ten minute drive to their relatively new home, curiosity got the better of him.

“You okay, kid?” he asked, with genuine concern.

“It was hard,” she replied with tremble of emotion in her voice.

“Yup,” he replied, nodding, as she finally turned toward him.

“Harder than I thought it would be,” she continued. “I didn’t-couldn’t follow everything.”

“I know, sweetie,” he said, reaching for her shoulder. “We knew that might happened. Did you breathe like we practiced?”

“Yes,” she answered, drooping her shoulders with a half eye roll. “But it was like I remembered too late.”

“Yeah, it’s like that for adults too. You’ll get better? Wanna snack?”

He opened the door and exited the vehicle and came around as she got out. He extended his hand and she took it slinging her backpack on the opposite shoulder. They entered the small rambler, El dropping her backpack right inside the door, and turned right toward the kitchen.

She sat the kitchen table while he sliced apples. He waited some more.

“Mike was weird,” she said, seemingly confused by the fact. “He kept trying to cover for me. He was making excuses for my mistakes and trying to protect me too much.”

He handed her the apple slices. “That sounds like Mike. But, don’t be too hard on him. He wants what’s best for you. Remember this was new for him too.”

“You don’t have to defend him, Dad,” she replied. “I’m not really mad at him. I’m just…tired.”

“Of course you are. You should be exhausted. You experienced a lot of new things today. It would wear anyone out.”

She ate apple and stared out the sliding glass door into the back yard. She looked small and battle worn by the nightmare of middle school.

“It’s like Mike doesn’t think I can do it on my own. I told Mr. Clarke to call me El and Mike jumped in and made sure he knew it was a nickname. Later at lunch he explained how the lunch line worked. It was pretty obvious. And, more than that he was talking to people for me. Like he was my translator. I’m not a baby, you know!”

Taking her outburst in stride, he opened the fridge and pulled out a can of Sunkist and came to sit with her at the table. He popped the lid and slid the can next to her plate.

“You are no baby,” he said, raising his eyebrows and grinning at her. “That is for sure.”

“This is serious, Dad,” she intoned, smiling despite herself. “I love Mike, but he was so annoying today.”

He had long ago decide to let the love word lie, but it still gave him pause when she said it. “I can see how annoying it would be if you thought he was trying to baby you. But, consider it from Mike’s side. He…loves you and he wanted you to have the best day possible. He may have gone overboard, but he was still trying to make your transition easier.”

“Ugh. If that was easy, then I do not want to see hard.”

He chuckled at that and took a slice apple from her plate and popped it into his mouth. “Anything else happen?”

“I got a bloody nose,” she deadpanned.

He stopped chewing. “You what?”

“I got a bloody nose,” she repeated.

“And, how did that happen?” he inquired, skeptically. “You know what we talked about.”

“There was this this girl, Christine,” El began, soberly. “I was opening my locker and having trouble with the combination. I want to break the lock, but I decided not to. Christine came over and started to be mean about the locker problem and other stuff too. Mike came over and tried to get her to stop, but she was an 8th grader and didn’t listen. I finally popped the lock and swung open the door right into her chest. She was…er…pissed and slammed it back in my face. I was faster and kept the door from hitting my face, but hid behind the door long enough for my nose to bleed on its own. When I closed the door her eyes went wide and she ran away fast. I grinned at Mike and he laughed. It was a good time.”

Hopper’s doubtful gaze stayed on her even after she stopped talking. His mounting frustration just as quickly began to ebb away and his stern looked flipped to a mirthful smile.

“Sounds like you handled it perfectly, Kid.”

“I think so, too,” she said, simply.

“You know the rules, though, El,” he added. “You can’t be doing that kind of thing at school.”

“I know, Dad. From now on, the only bloody noses will be fist-to-face.”

His little girl had the nerve to wink at him. He reached out and mussed her mop of brown curls.

“Only if they put their hands on you,” he amended.

“Only if…yes.”

 

Sweet openness between El and her Dad. Yes I agree Mike was only trying to smooth things and probably did go overboard but the whole thing is new for him too. El has a lot to figure on, just being "plain folks".

 

El sure has her troubles at school but she has a nice teacher and dad

 

Thank you to @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha and @earlybird-obi-wan for reviewing my last couple of Stranger Things posts. I'm switching it up this time and jumping over to Avengers. In light of Avengers: Infinity War, the inspiration has stirred, but there is not much product at this point. The ficlet below is not exactly what I was thinking, but it is what emerged. more Avengers to come...

Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War!

You have been warned.

Desolation

Tony Stark stared at the brown, flakey ashes which, moments before, had been Peter Parker. He knew he was in shock, that his body would not obey his commands. His hands seemed glued to his knees and his eyes permanently locked on ashes now fluttering away in the breeze.

Why hadn’t the kid listened? Why hadn’t he followed my commands? Why was he so eager to please, so eager to grow up? Why did he crave my approval so much? Am I now a man whom inspires children to their deaths?

He stood, the weight of his despair hanging on him like weight every soul lost at the snap of the tyrant’s fingers. He lumber a few steps, trying clear his head, wanting to make sense of even the lives lost before his very eyes. Strange. The Guardians? Starlord. His anger flared at the rash mistake the man had made, the rage he was unable to contain even at the expense of his own life, much less the countless others. It was easy to judge in hindsight. Would he have been able restrain himself if it had been Pepper? Pepper. Was she even still alive? He fell to his knees again. Peter. Pepper. Happy. Would he even have a reason to live if they were gone? Thanos chose that half would die, but even with the gauntlet, would Thanos be able to make every single life or death decision?

Tony had thought he was alone. Left to die slowly on a distant planet. Suddenly, even through closed eyes, his vision darkened. With effort, he opened them to see the blue-grey grimace of…a stranger. Her face was feminie, on further scrutiny, but was she human or machine?

“Get up,” she growled. “There is work to do.”

“Who are you?” Tony asked, still dazed by despair.

“I am Nebula and you are my ticket off this rock. Now, get up. There is work to do.”

 

Excellent sense of devastation and self-reproach It is natural to wonder how much of a tragedy could have been prevented.

 

Thank you, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha! I appreciate you following me whither I go. The drama of this latest Avengers film has me in its clutches. You can expect more. However, I hope it is not all so angsty. That said, the below is pretty angsty.

Shaken

Steve Rogers had fought against genocide before. He had missed the victory then and, as he sat on a log in the Wakandan forest, he experienced the ultimate defeat. Though Hitler had been stopped, the cost was unimaginably high. Thanos had just won and the cost was exponentially higher.

Steve was not left completely alone. Some of his friends and allies had survived. But there was one person he felt had abandoned him; one person he could not imagine would would let such and action stand. Burying his face in his hands, he silently railed his grief and anger and disappointment at God. He wept angry tears at the loss of life, both near and far. He simply could not abide losing Bucky again, much less Falcon, Wanda, T'Challa...

For a man gifted with enhanced speed, agility, and strength, helplessness gnawed at every nerve. What good were his abilities in the face of a god-like being who could snuff out so many lives with the snap of his fingers?

Steve Rogers was a man acquainted with grief. Time stealing everyone he ever knew. Time moving forward and away from the purity that drove his heart. Time making him question his purpose.

He was a man acquainted with betrayal. His own government, which he had sworn to protect, had turned its back on him, attempting to kill him. Another example of the corruption of the present age.

Yet, he was a man of steel resolve. A man whose faith and principles had sufficiently guided him to this place and this time. It was a resolve that had just been cut off at the knees. His faith had been shaken. He was sinking into despair, the last shreds of his hope ripping in the wind like a tattered flag as it falls into the muck of a blood-soaked battlefield.

In his head he knew that God had not forsaken him. That lesser beings would commit atrocities and unspeakable evil until the day He returned. But his heart ached at such a level that the light was so small as not to be seen.

What were they supposed to do now? Where was Tony? As much as he hated to admit it, Iron Man was the brains. But, for all he knew, Tony was also ashes scattered in the wind.

 

Fantastic and intense! Reminds me of Obi-Wan and Luke at various points -- feeling they've lost everything and been betrayed

 

Thank you, @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha!

A/N: Avengers Infinity War Spoilers below…

Humbled

The head.

The head.

The head.

How many battles had he fought? How many enemies were under his foot? How many victories had he taken by the might of Mjolnir? How many times had he struck a deathblow? How could he have been so stupid?

Thor knew the power he was fighting against. He knew the might Thanos controled. He knew he had only one chance. And, he had failed.

He had failed his brother, Loki. Such...a...bad...brother.

He had failed his Asgardian people. Decimated by Hela and extinguished by Thanos.

He had failed his adoptive people of Earth. His friends and so many more grieved in the shock of instant death.

He had failed half the beings in the universe. All those who remain grieving over a split second decision that he misjudged.

The head.

The head.

The head.

The Thunder god hung his head in shame.

Scared

Bruce Banner's guilt was no less potent than that of his friends; his shame no less bone-deep. He had been rescued from death by the final act of the Asgardian, Heimdall. As he lay dying, the Guardian must have seen something in the brutal beating that Hulk was receiving at the hands Thanos himself. What that was, Banner could not fathom. What had the Gatekeeper hoped to accomplish? Did he think that Hulk deserved another Title shot? That another confrontation would have a different outcome?

What he could not have foreseen was the Hulk cowering fear, hiding inside Banner, the obviously weaker vessel. What made it all the more nauseating, was that Banner knew that the Hulk was not in fact a separate person, but a part of him. The Hulk, Banner's anger, righteous or not, could not be summoned in the face of the greatest threat the universe had ever encountered. He had been weak. He had allowed himself to be disabled. All but useless without his alter ego, he had been forced to use Tony's Hulkbuster armor. It had been enough for the fighting he had engaged, but how much more could the Hulk have done? At the very least, he could have died with honor.

 

Wow, Thor is indeed "humbled." And Banner feels less than weak and helpless.

 

@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha:
@Mira_Jade: Mira! It's so good to see you! I hope DRL has been too hard on you. Thank you for your kind words about Hopper and El and Mr. Clarke. I do love those characters. El is fun to write with her exceptionalism and her limitations all bound up into one package. I am sorry to hear that Infinity War disappointed you. It worked for me, but I can see what you mean about the lack of follow through on Civil War storylines. I'm glad that my bits of ansgt worked. Here's another.

Relieved

Natahsha Romanov watched in horror as the effect of one snap of the fingers ravaged the Wakandan battlefield. When the invisible scythe of the grim reaper had finished its work, so few were left standing. However, the breath so quickly sucked from her lungs returned just as suddenly at the sight of Steve sitting on a log not far away. She continued her survey and her shoulders, clenched in desperation, released at the sight of Bruce standing next to Thor in the shadow of the Hulkbuster. Wanda was gone. Falcon, Bucky, and T'Challa, as well. Vision lay darkened; as grey and lifeless as the ashes piling up around them.

It took 22 minutes for her phone to buzz. She saw message from Clint and her lips ticked up. The pounding in her head began to subside. Clint was alive. Cooper was with him. Laura, Lila, and little Nate were gone. The drumbeat began anew.

Though her messages to Fury had gone unanswered, she could not believe that the odds had failed him this time.

No one seemed to know what to say. No one seemed to want to look at each other. She watched as Steve put his face in his hands. She wanted to got him, to comfort him. She turned to Bruce and could see his inner torment dancing in his down cast eyes. She want to go to him as well. She had missed him. He had made the choice to leave and had somehow lost himself in his quest for answers. She still cared for him, but doubted that the spark they once shared would ever return. And then there was Clint. Her friend. Her brother. Her confidant. At least, he had been in another life. Who would he be now?

Without warning, a wave of guilt crashed down on her. What was she thinking? How could she be relishing those who lived when countless others had died. And not just the nameless and the faceless. Her friends. Her...family. Her core had lived and the shame at her relief clung to her like a putrid parasite. She comforted none of them and ducked out of the clearing and on to the plain where tangible death could distract her, if only for a moment.

 

Very realistic jumble of emotions at loss and survival

 

caught up again reading the nice and sometimes scary pieces

 

Thank you to @WarmNyota_SweetAyesha, @earlybird-obi-wan , and @Mira_Jade for their continued support. My Avengers tangent felt good but lacks any longevity without some exterior prompting. C'est la vie.

A/N: This will be my first foray into the Cloak and Dagger fandom. I'm a little nervous because the show is so fresh and my retention of details is sometimes spotty. Anyway, this is a peak into the mind of Tandy Bowen (Dagger).

A Light in the Darkness

It was a horrible thing for a young girl to experience; one of many horrible things that could happen, one of many things that have happened since. As the car crashed through the barricade, and her daddy's head collided with steering wheel, the little girl felt weightless for a moment before the car dove into the bay. She screamed for her daddy, who lay motionless in the front seat, blood trickling from his forehead. In the chaos and fear of the moment, she did not notice the burst of bright light followed by a wave of energy. The car continues to sink, but the little girl can do nothing but call for her daddy. She is paralyzed with fear, shock keeping her from trying to save herself or even realize her life is in danger. Suddenly, the car is filled with light. She covers her eyes, wondering where the light is coming from and knowing, at the same time it is coming from her. Without knowing why, she looks up at the car's ceiling. The ceiling is no longer beige, nor round at the top. She should scream even more at the sight, but she is overcome by a sense of peace, a rightness about the mass of inky blackness hovering above her. Then, pushing, even further, the boundaries of reality, a hand extended out of the darkness.She reached for it, as if drawn to it, to life. Her light touches its darkness.

She woke on the beach cold, wet, and tired, but alive. A boy, her age, is laying next to her, still asleep. She take his hoodie, being cold and wet. She stared at him, knowing what he did, but not accepting it fully. She pulls the hoodie hover her shoulders shoulders and head. It feels like peace, the comfort of her rescuer. It is all the sense she can make of any of it as she staggers away from him into her desperate future.

 

A horrible life changing experience for her

 

Shocking and vivid

 

@earlybird-obi-wan: Hi earlybird! Good to see you about as well. Thank you for commenting.
@WarmNyota_SweetAyesha: Thanks you for reading and commenting, Nyota. My writing on this side has been pretty brooding of late. Here is some more.
@Mira_Jade: Hello Mira! It's so good to see you! Thank you for the awesome comments. I think C&D is worth a look. It is a slow burn, but it's worth it. I'm glad what I wrote above made sense. it's short and not long on details or set up. Thanks again.

A Light in the Darkness - Companion

Tyrone Johnson idolized his brother, Billy. He did so to the point that he followed him in secret and watched as he and his friends played basketball, talked trash, and hatched less than honorable plots.

Young Tyrone was surprised the night his brother decided not to join his friends in a stereo jacking and opted to stay with him instead. Tyrone felt like Billy had missed out on an opportunity and later decided to jack the stereo himself in order to impress his older brother. It turned out Billy had no interest in stealing and demanded they return it. This was derailed when the police arrived and they were caught with stolen goods.

A decision had to be made,, instantly, because every second of delay led closer to a potentially dangerous confrontation with the police. Billy dropped the electronics and dashed into the shadows pulling Tyrone behind him. The police gave chase onto the docks and soon Billy was in their sights.

Tyrone watched from behind a crate as his brother leaped up on the edge of the dock and raised his hands. The officers approached, guns drawn.

Without warning, an explosion lit up the sky behind Billy. It was out in the bay. Tyrone's eyes flitted to it and back to his brother as the lead officer fired two shots into Billy's chest. What had he missed in that split second?

Tyrone watched as his brother fell, silently, backward into the murky water below. Another split second passed as Tyrone saw the face of the officer who shot his brother. A scar ran down the length of his left cheek and the light of the explosion showed red-tinged hair. Without a second thought, he sprang from his hiding place and darted over the dock's edge after his brother.

The water was cold, even for warm New Orleans night. His hoodie and pants felt instantly heavy on him as he dove deeper trying to see where Billy had gone. Turning around, he saw the ghostly vision of his brother's lifeless body floating before him.

It was too late.

There was nothing to do.

Billy was gone.

In that moment, an inexplicable wave of light and energy surge toward him and passed through him. He could not wonder about it as rage filled him and his lungs began to burn. He looked up to the surface, but his attention was caught by an intensely bright, white light pulsing below him. He saw a car sinking to the bottom of the bay. The light was so bright it almost obscured the vehicle.

The light called to him; not with a voice, but with a feeling. It was an urgency that could not, would not be ignored. His lungs were going to burst, but instead of swimming for his life toward the surface, he bent forward and swam for his life, toward the light. He knew there was someone alive inside the car, but he could not see them. He was almost to the hood, reaching out desperately to touch it.

He wanted to shield his eyes from the brightness, but a shield of pitch black tendrils seemed to be emanating from his very pores. The car was there, though he could not see it. The only thing he could think to do, the only thing he was compelled to do, was reach into the blackness. He could not see clearly, but he was sure he saw a pale white hand extended toward him. He grabbed it.

He woke up on the beach cold and wet. He was alone. His hoodie was missing. He hoped she, he knew the other one was a she, was okay. He hoped the little girl had not lost anyone in the accident. He hoped his hoodie was keeping her warm.

 

Riveting! Companion pieces are fun because they show the "other side"