I'm gonna need a cape...
On Saturday, April 21, I was attending JordanCon in Atlanta. I was eating dinner with my wife and feeling pretty damn successful. It had been a good Con, with good friends, times, and sales. And then I see this in my inbox:
https://www.gcdailyworld.com/story/2506153.html
After reading the story, I wanted to help, and I decided to write a short story. Then I thought... I know lots of writers. Maybe they would like to write a short story as well. If you have time to pen a 1500-2500 short, let me know. I've posted "Azul:Origins" below, along with the background universe document.
But seriously, folks... this freaked me the ---- out.
https://www.gcdailyworld.com/story/2506153.html
After reading the story, I wanted to help, and I decided to write a short story. Then I thought... I know lots of writers. Maybe they would like to write a short story as well. If you have time to pen a 1500-2500 short, let me know. I've posted "Azul:Origins" below, along with the background universe document.
But seriously, folks... this freaked me the ---- out.
Azul's Universe:
Background
“Azul” is the superhero secret identity of 11 year old Blue Cole, a XX grade student. Sick with a stomach cancer, he has been approached by Conjordan, a robot who lives in the Prism of ____, on the moon. Conjordan healed him with a pizza that also fuels his superpowers.
After his miraculous recovery, Blue wants to return to his normal life. But his friends at school start getting sick… not a sick as him, but Blue has to use his superpowers to defeat the life-size germs.
The story collection will explore his origin, the development of his sidekicks, a visit to the moon with Conjordan, and (TBD) fights with the germs making his friends sick. In the background will be 2-4 recurring characters.
The climax of the story will be Blue tracking down and discovering the scientist who is (inadvertently) creating the germs and releasing them into the school. Blue, his sidekicks, and the scientist shut down the rogue piece of equipment that is producing the germs Blue’s been fighting.
The stories should be 1500-2500 words, written in an informal style, for a middle school audience. They are non-linear, with the exception of the background characters, superpowers, and devices.
Stories
Superpowers Discovers through the stories; one per(?)
Flight, strength, speed, compassion, helpfulness, jumping, hypnotizing laugh.
Superweapons
Whipped cream sticky spray, quesadilla boomerangs, hunting dodge balls. His uniform is a pair of blue pajamas with a pizza cape.
Sidekicks
His two dogs get super powers when he drops a piece of pepperoni on the floor and they eat it.
ChewBarka- Yorkie Maltese mix (male)
Tink -Yorkie (female)
Background info from mom & teachers:
Nicknames: Bluester, Boy Blue & Bubby
Pets: Tink -Yorkie (female) & ChewBarka- Yorkie Maltese mix (male)
Sports? He loves to jump on the trampoline, swim and go hiking.
He loves the goosebumps books. And all superhero related books/comics. The LEGO series video games or any platform style game.
He loves his sister Oriana aka Sissy. He loves watching his favorite cartoons in Spanish once he’s watched them in English a million times. Loves clothes and accessories: hats, gloves, jewelry etc. loves camping and fishing. But doesn’t like to actually catch fish. He always wants them immediately back in the water.
He loves going to school. He misses it when on breaks. And asks daily to go back to school.
We hike daily in the summer. He loves to learn survivalist stuff.
Comfy pjs are probably his favorite thing to wear.
His favorite foods are Dr Pepper, Pizza (w/ Marinara sauce to dip!), quesadillas, any breakfast food that requires syrup, chocolate muffins, Reddit whip right out of the can and cake like brownies.
He lives for his routines and schedule.
He has one of those contagious smiles and laughs.
Loves Cinnamon Toast Crunch
He is a very picky eater.
Our school nurse’s name is Renee and she is awesome as well.
“Azul” is the superhero secret identity of 11 year old Blue Cole, a XX grade student. Sick with a stomach cancer, he has been approached by Conjordan, a robot who lives in the Prism of ____, on the moon. Conjordan healed him with a pizza that also fuels his superpowers.
After his miraculous recovery, Blue wants to return to his normal life. But his friends at school start getting sick… not a sick as him, but Blue has to use his superpowers to defeat the life-size germs.
The story collection will explore his origin, the development of his sidekicks, a visit to the moon with Conjordan, and (TBD) fights with the germs making his friends sick. In the background will be 2-4 recurring characters.
The climax of the story will be Blue tracking down and discovering the scientist who is (inadvertently) creating the germs and releasing them into the school. Blue, his sidekicks, and the scientist shut down the rogue piece of equipment that is producing the germs Blue’s been fighting.
The stories should be 1500-2500 words, written in an informal style, for a middle school audience. They are non-linear, with the exception of the background characters, superpowers, and devices.
Stories
- Azul: Origins
- Start of Powers; Con Jordan
- Start of Powers; Con Jordan
- Azul vs. the Math Germ - Tiff Franklin
- Pizza communicator
- Math germ - green / orange spots
- dodge balls / sticky spray / Hypno laugh
- Mentions barnabus
- Azul vs. the Phoenix of Fatigue - David Jones
- English class
- Math class
- English class
- Azul vs. Listeria - Steve Waldrop
- Nurse's office
- Spoiled HOT DOGS
- Quesadilla boomerang
- Nurse's office
- Legacy - Henry Walsh
- Convert to Sissy getting super powers
- become Hyper girl
- Azul & the Prism of ______
- Azul vs. _______ (Germ name here)
- Azul vs. _______ (Germ name here)
- Azul vs. _______ (Germ name here)
- Azul: The Flight of Chewbarka
- Azul: Rise of the Germs
- Azul vs. The Not-Evil Scientist
Superpowers Discovers through the stories; one per(?)
Flight, strength, speed, compassion, helpfulness, jumping, hypnotizing laugh.
Superweapons
Whipped cream sticky spray, quesadilla boomerangs, hunting dodge balls. His uniform is a pair of blue pajamas with a pizza cape.
Sidekicks
His two dogs get super powers when he drops a piece of pepperoni on the floor and they eat it.
ChewBarka- Yorkie Maltese mix (male)
Tink -Yorkie (female)
Background info from mom & teachers:
Nicknames: Bluester, Boy Blue & Bubby
Pets: Tink -Yorkie (female) & ChewBarka- Yorkie Maltese mix (male)
Sports? He loves to jump on the trampoline, swim and go hiking.
He loves the goosebumps books. And all superhero related books/comics. The LEGO series video games or any platform style game.
He loves his sister Oriana aka Sissy. He loves watching his favorite cartoons in Spanish once he’s watched them in English a million times. Loves clothes and accessories: hats, gloves, jewelry etc. loves camping and fishing. But doesn’t like to actually catch fish. He always wants them immediately back in the water.
He loves going to school. He misses it when on breaks. And asks daily to go back to school.
We hike daily in the summer. He loves to learn survivalist stuff.
Comfy pjs are probably his favorite thing to wear.
His favorite foods are Dr Pepper, Pizza (w/ Marinara sauce to dip!), quesadillas, any breakfast food that requires syrup, chocolate muffins, Reddit whip right out of the can and cake like brownies.
He lives for his routines and schedule.
He has one of those contagious smiles and laughs.
Loves Cinnamon Toast Crunch
He is a very picky eater.
Our school nurse’s name is Renee and she is awesome as well.
Azul: Origins
Azul: Origin
Of course it had had to happen in Ms. Bloominfelter’s second period gym class. Of course everyone had to be watching, and of course Blue tried to warn her.
“Mrs. Bloominfelter?” he asked. Blue was smaller than some in class, quieter than most, but he no longer ate the glue or ran in the halls, like some. Most of the teachers liked him, but Mrs. Bloominfelter didn’t like anyone.
“SILENCE ON THE COURT!” she shrieked. The class was currently lined up, each of them in their spots, for Ms. B to take attendance. Small x’s, shaped into a grid, marked the place each student must stand for roll call. Once completed, they would break into groups for soccer, dodgeball, or stampede for the playground. Blue felt his stomach cramp again. Please don’t let me cut one right here, he thought. Colby Fisher, the biggest boy in school, had once farted so loud he scared a teacher into dropping the chalk. Legend said the smell was so bad they had to close the room. Colby cut the cheese, Blue thought again, and snickered at his own joke.
“SILENCE MEANS SILENCE,” Ms. B. squeeked. “I’ll lose my place if this noise continues. Now... where was I?” Around him, the class groaned, having seen the rolling cart full of red rubber balls. Dodgeball[BC1] was always favorite; what could be more fun than flinging smelly rubber balls at your friends? Even the girls would play it, and all they usually wanted to do was cluster together, whispering and looking at the next group over.
Blue sighed, and waited, hoping the pain in his stomach wouldn’t get worse. He’d felt it before; over the last few weeks, it had started to bother him, but he hadn’t told him mom. It could just be growing pains, or maybe something he ate. Maybe I should have eaten my vegetables. The pain spread again, and he grimaced. His stomach normally didn’t hurt; but he did get tired, and to be honest, he really didn’t feel like playing dodgeball. But at the bottom of the care were three bright red, brand-new rubber bouncy balls. Grunting to herself, Ms. B [BC2] stood up. She didn’t have far to go; most of the children in class were taller than her. Wrinkles piled upon wrinkles showed her age, and she moved no faster than a turtle in a hurry. Thick glasses, held in place by a bejeweled string, made her eyes appear oversized in her head. She cocked her head at Blue, her eyes seeming to scan him. The cramp hit again, and he raised his hand.
“No. Mr. Cole, we will go over the rules for dodgeball, and then you may ask your question.”
Raising one curled finger, she opened her mouth to speak, and then it happened. Blue felt the burp coming, and a little one did arrive first, but chasing it came his breakfast, a bowl’s worth of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. horrible groaning sound came out of his mouth, a great trumpet of air, followed by an arch of greenish-yellow vomit. Blue urked again, the pain in his stomach easing. The students around him shrieked, jumping back, trying to avoid the splashing, bubbling grossness. Dodgeball forgotten, Blue leaned forward, emptying his stomach until nothing was left but a weak cough.
“Gross.”
“Ewwwww.”
“Ohmygoddidhejust–”
Colby Fisher snickered from the back row. “Cool.”
Ms. B looked around at the disorganized gym class. “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked. “Someone go get the nurse. And the janitor.”
“Which one first?” a student asked.
“Definitely the janitor,” Ms. B said. Picking up her pencil, she turned to her attendance sheet. “Everyone be STILL! I have to correct the attendance book....”
Nurse Renee’s office wasn’t bad. It had the hard smell of disinfectant, but the good smell of foaming hand soap. The orange was his favorite, but Blue wasn’t paying much attention to it. The pain in his stomach had eased, replaced by embarrassment, but it was coming back. In the front part of the office, his mother and the school’s nurse talked.
“Has he been feeling bad?” Nurse Renee asked. Adults always thought you weren’t listening.
“He told me about his stomach. I thought he just... had to much pizza, or something,” his mother said. “He loves his pizza.”
“He’s seemed tired, and Ms. Wagler said he’s been lethargic. I checked his tummy, just feeling it, and...”
Their voices dropped lower, but Blue closed his eyes. The pain grumbled again, a small burp crawling up his throat. Oh no, he thought as he reached for the trashcan.
The school nurses’ office turned into a doctor’s office, which turned into a room with a big machine that hummed. Electromagnetics were pretty cool; Blue had seen the Terminator movie where John Conner had been sucked into the side of the machine, but it was really kind of scary on the inside.
“It’s just a humming doughnut,” the nurse said, right before he laid down. “It’s tight in there, but you’ll be just fine.”
The humming doughnut turned into another doctor’s office, which lead to hushed conversations, and the word was spoken:
Cancer.
Some days he felt worse, some days he felt better, but he started missing school. That bothered him; with the exception of Ms. Bloominfelter’s class, and the day he got sick, he loved school. His friends still came to see him, and he could play video games, but he missed the learning. His stomach hurt, and they medicine they gave him made him feel bad, but he still felt like himself. He was still Blue. The adults, the kids at school, they treated him as if he was someone different. He didn’t feel good all the time, but he still loved Iron Man, and Goosebumps, and pizza. He just felt tired and weak all the time.
The one he really felt bad about was his mom and sister. Oriana didn’t understand anything, other than he needed to rest more, and she could lay beside him when he rested. His mom... he wanted to make her feel better. He would hear her at night sometimes, crying after he went to sleep. Sometimes, Chewbarka, his second smallest dog, would come to his room with wet fur.
“Be a good boy,” he’d say. “Make her feel better,” he told the small dog.
One day, he got a small cough. It turned into a bigger cough, and then a big wet cough. Off they went, bundled against the snow and wind, and Blue went back to the hospital. His room, 508, wasn’t quite his favorite; part of the view was blocked from view by an air conditioner vent. But from the 5th floor, you could see some of the town laid out below the hospital. Blue tried to be happy, to smile at people, because everyone was so serious. He’s bought a rubber snake, to surprise the nurses, but he’d left it at home. Maybe he could tell Oriana where it was and have her bring it.
“I need to make them laugh,” he said to himself one night. “They are too serious. Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean they can’t laugh.” As he dozed off that night, the moon loomed large in the triangle of sky outside his window. He couldn’t see the sparkle of lights from town, but the moon was full, glowing softly. As his eyes slipped closed, he thought... dreamed, perhaps, that a small flare of light came from one of the moon’s craters.
The smell of pizza woke him up.
Ever since he’d gotten sick, the thing he’d missed the most had been pizza. Greasy, dripping with sauce, so much cheese it would streeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch a mile before breaking. His stomach just couldn’t handle it anymore; something about the negative acidity of the tomato sauce. But now, in his hospital room, he smelled it. He cracked his eyes, not wanting to move, to disturb the dream. Someone stood beside his bed, holding a box. Flat, square, it was gripped by silver hands. There was flowing, scripted writing on the side of the box, and Blue breather deeply. The nurse put the box on the wheeled tray, and paused, the hood swiveling toward Blue as she set the box down. Blue breathed in again, the pain in his stomach disappearing. Maybe I just needed something to eat this whole time. Before he drifted back off to sleep, two things registered: silver hand? A hood? Blue sat up in bed. The nurse, or whoever she was, paused in the doorway, looking at Blue. His eyes widened.
“Wait!”
The nurses face was silver. And smooth, like the Silver Surfer. Or a robot. Blue jumped out of bed, not noticing the wires and tubes falling away from his skin. He ran– for the first time in months – to the door of his room. When he got to the doorway, he looked out to see the flare of a cloak disappearing through the doorway at the end of the hall, a bright EXIT sign slowing above it. Blue ran, again, chasing the cloaked nurse. Up the stairs they went, turning two flights of stairs until Blue pushed through the doorway to the roof of the hospital. He saw a small craft sitting on the roof, and the person he thought was nurse about to climb in.
“Wait! Please,” Blue called, finally beginning to feel tired. The wind blew, and he shivered. “I want to know who you are,” he said weakly. Putting his hands on his knees, he let his head hang. What was I thinking? I can’t go running like that. A wave of dizziness rolled over him, and then, a cold hand had him by the shoulder. The smell of pizza drifted up from the cloak, giving him just enough energy to stand back up.
“Who are you?” Blue asked, looking up. It was a robot; dressed in a hooded cloak, like Luke from The Last Jedi, the silvered face stared down at him. “Who are you?” he asked again. Finally, it spoke.
“I am... Conjordan. I’ve been watching you, sensing how you’ve been feeling.” The other hand came up, one finger extending. “Here,” he said, touching Blue’s forehead, “and here,” touching Blue’s chest, right above his heart.
“Why?”
“Sometimes, we are tested. And in the testing, we find great strength. Great strength that should be used. And so I brought you...” the robot said a long word, with several hard, awkward syllables.
“But I’m not strong. I’m just... a boy.”
“You’re not strong yet. But you have power inside you. Power that I can help you find.” The robot squatted down, the curved face reflecting Blue’s own in concavity. “Eat one – just one slice – of the pizza. Do not share it. Do not waste it. Then, when the time comes, eat another slice when people need you.”
“How will I know?” Blue said.
“You’ll know,” Conjordan, rising to his feet, the wind whipping his robe. Blue shivered in the wind. The robot’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Now go inside. You’ll catch a cold out here.”
Blue laughed, but scurried toward the door.
“But how will I find you?” he called, sheltering away from the wind.
“Look there, to my home,” Conjordan said, pointing to the moon. “If you can see it, I can see you. I will see you.”
Down in his room, Blue slowly lifted lid of the pizza box. The outside was covered in strange script, and inside... it smelled like a pizza, with crust and cheese and toppings. But it glowed softly, the toppings were different shapes, and just the smell of it made him feel stronger. Lifting a piece to his mouth, Blue took a bite, and felt the power infuse him.
I’m gonna need a cape, he thought.
[BC1]Give him dodgeball super powers
[BC2]Does she become a hero in disguise?
Of course it had had to happen in Ms. Bloominfelter’s second period gym class. Of course everyone had to be watching, and of course Blue tried to warn her.
“Mrs. Bloominfelter?” he asked. Blue was smaller than some in class, quieter than most, but he no longer ate the glue or ran in the halls, like some. Most of the teachers liked him, but Mrs. Bloominfelter didn’t like anyone.
“SILENCE ON THE COURT!” she shrieked. The class was currently lined up, each of them in their spots, for Ms. B to take attendance. Small x’s, shaped into a grid, marked the place each student must stand for roll call. Once completed, they would break into groups for soccer, dodgeball, or stampede for the playground. Blue felt his stomach cramp again. Please don’t let me cut one right here, he thought. Colby Fisher, the biggest boy in school, had once farted so loud he scared a teacher into dropping the chalk. Legend said the smell was so bad they had to close the room. Colby cut the cheese, Blue thought again, and snickered at his own joke.
“SILENCE MEANS SILENCE,” Ms. B. squeeked. “I’ll lose my place if this noise continues. Now... where was I?” Around him, the class groaned, having seen the rolling cart full of red rubber balls. Dodgeball[BC1] was always favorite; what could be more fun than flinging smelly rubber balls at your friends? Even the girls would play it, and all they usually wanted to do was cluster together, whispering and looking at the next group over.
Blue sighed, and waited, hoping the pain in his stomach wouldn’t get worse. He’d felt it before; over the last few weeks, it had started to bother him, but he hadn’t told him mom. It could just be growing pains, or maybe something he ate. Maybe I should have eaten my vegetables. The pain spread again, and he grimaced. His stomach normally didn’t hurt; but he did get tired, and to be honest, he really didn’t feel like playing dodgeball. But at the bottom of the care were three bright red, brand-new rubber bouncy balls. Grunting to herself, Ms. B [BC2] stood up. She didn’t have far to go; most of the children in class were taller than her. Wrinkles piled upon wrinkles showed her age, and she moved no faster than a turtle in a hurry. Thick glasses, held in place by a bejeweled string, made her eyes appear oversized in her head. She cocked her head at Blue, her eyes seeming to scan him. The cramp hit again, and he raised his hand.
“No. Mr. Cole, we will go over the rules for dodgeball, and then you may ask your question.”
Raising one curled finger, she opened her mouth to speak, and then it happened. Blue felt the burp coming, and a little one did arrive first, but chasing it came his breakfast, a bowl’s worth of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. horrible groaning sound came out of his mouth, a great trumpet of air, followed by an arch of greenish-yellow vomit. Blue urked again, the pain in his stomach easing. The students around him shrieked, jumping back, trying to avoid the splashing, bubbling grossness. Dodgeball forgotten, Blue leaned forward, emptying his stomach until nothing was left but a weak cough.
“Gross.”
“Ewwwww.”
“Ohmygoddidhejust–”
Colby Fisher snickered from the back row. “Cool.”
Ms. B looked around at the disorganized gym class. “Why didn’t you say something?” she asked. “Someone go get the nurse. And the janitor.”
“Which one first?” a student asked.
“Definitely the janitor,” Ms. B said. Picking up her pencil, she turned to her attendance sheet. “Everyone be STILL! I have to correct the attendance book....”
Nurse Renee’s office wasn’t bad. It had the hard smell of disinfectant, but the good smell of foaming hand soap. The orange was his favorite, but Blue wasn’t paying much attention to it. The pain in his stomach had eased, replaced by embarrassment, but it was coming back. In the front part of the office, his mother and the school’s nurse talked.
“Has he been feeling bad?” Nurse Renee asked. Adults always thought you weren’t listening.
“He told me about his stomach. I thought he just... had to much pizza, or something,” his mother said. “He loves his pizza.”
“He’s seemed tired, and Ms. Wagler said he’s been lethargic. I checked his tummy, just feeling it, and...”
Their voices dropped lower, but Blue closed his eyes. The pain grumbled again, a small burp crawling up his throat. Oh no, he thought as he reached for the trashcan.
The school nurses’ office turned into a doctor’s office, which turned into a room with a big machine that hummed. Electromagnetics were pretty cool; Blue had seen the Terminator movie where John Conner had been sucked into the side of the machine, but it was really kind of scary on the inside.
“It’s just a humming doughnut,” the nurse said, right before he laid down. “It’s tight in there, but you’ll be just fine.”
The humming doughnut turned into another doctor’s office, which lead to hushed conversations, and the word was spoken:
Cancer.
Some days he felt worse, some days he felt better, but he started missing school. That bothered him; with the exception of Ms. Bloominfelter’s class, and the day he got sick, he loved school. His friends still came to see him, and he could play video games, but he missed the learning. His stomach hurt, and they medicine they gave him made him feel bad, but he still felt like himself. He was still Blue. The adults, the kids at school, they treated him as if he was someone different. He didn’t feel good all the time, but he still loved Iron Man, and Goosebumps, and pizza. He just felt tired and weak all the time.
The one he really felt bad about was his mom and sister. Oriana didn’t understand anything, other than he needed to rest more, and she could lay beside him when he rested. His mom... he wanted to make her feel better. He would hear her at night sometimes, crying after he went to sleep. Sometimes, Chewbarka, his second smallest dog, would come to his room with wet fur.
“Be a good boy,” he’d say. “Make her feel better,” he told the small dog.
One day, he got a small cough. It turned into a bigger cough, and then a big wet cough. Off they went, bundled against the snow and wind, and Blue went back to the hospital. His room, 508, wasn’t quite his favorite; part of the view was blocked from view by an air conditioner vent. But from the 5th floor, you could see some of the town laid out below the hospital. Blue tried to be happy, to smile at people, because everyone was so serious. He’s bought a rubber snake, to surprise the nurses, but he’d left it at home. Maybe he could tell Oriana where it was and have her bring it.
“I need to make them laugh,” he said to himself one night. “They are too serious. Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean they can’t laugh.” As he dozed off that night, the moon loomed large in the triangle of sky outside his window. He couldn’t see the sparkle of lights from town, but the moon was full, glowing softly. As his eyes slipped closed, he thought... dreamed, perhaps, that a small flare of light came from one of the moon’s craters.
The smell of pizza woke him up.
Ever since he’d gotten sick, the thing he’d missed the most had been pizza. Greasy, dripping with sauce, so much cheese it would streeeeeeeeeeeeeeetch a mile before breaking. His stomach just couldn’t handle it anymore; something about the negative acidity of the tomato sauce. But now, in his hospital room, he smelled it. He cracked his eyes, not wanting to move, to disturb the dream. Someone stood beside his bed, holding a box. Flat, square, it was gripped by silver hands. There was flowing, scripted writing on the side of the box, and Blue breather deeply. The nurse put the box on the wheeled tray, and paused, the hood swiveling toward Blue as she set the box down. Blue breathed in again, the pain in his stomach disappearing. Maybe I just needed something to eat this whole time. Before he drifted back off to sleep, two things registered: silver hand? A hood? Blue sat up in bed. The nurse, or whoever she was, paused in the doorway, looking at Blue. His eyes widened.
“Wait!”
The nurses face was silver. And smooth, like the Silver Surfer. Or a robot. Blue jumped out of bed, not noticing the wires and tubes falling away from his skin. He ran– for the first time in months – to the door of his room. When he got to the doorway, he looked out to see the flare of a cloak disappearing through the doorway at the end of the hall, a bright EXIT sign slowing above it. Blue ran, again, chasing the cloaked nurse. Up the stairs they went, turning two flights of stairs until Blue pushed through the doorway to the roof of the hospital. He saw a small craft sitting on the roof, and the person he thought was nurse about to climb in.
“Wait! Please,” Blue called, finally beginning to feel tired. The wind blew, and he shivered. “I want to know who you are,” he said weakly. Putting his hands on his knees, he let his head hang. What was I thinking? I can’t go running like that. A wave of dizziness rolled over him, and then, a cold hand had him by the shoulder. The smell of pizza drifted up from the cloak, giving him just enough energy to stand back up.
“Who are you?” Blue asked, looking up. It was a robot; dressed in a hooded cloak, like Luke from The Last Jedi, the silvered face stared down at him. “Who are you?” he asked again. Finally, it spoke.
“I am... Conjordan. I’ve been watching you, sensing how you’ve been feeling.” The other hand came up, one finger extending. “Here,” he said, touching Blue’s forehead, “and here,” touching Blue’s chest, right above his heart.
“Why?”
“Sometimes, we are tested. And in the testing, we find great strength. Great strength that should be used. And so I brought you...” the robot said a long word, with several hard, awkward syllables.
“But I’m not strong. I’m just... a boy.”
“You’re not strong yet. But you have power inside you. Power that I can help you find.” The robot squatted down, the curved face reflecting Blue’s own in concavity. “Eat one – just one slice – of the pizza. Do not share it. Do not waste it. Then, when the time comes, eat another slice when people need you.”
“How will I know?” Blue said.
“You’ll know,” Conjordan, rising to his feet, the wind whipping his robe. Blue shivered in the wind. The robot’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Now go inside. You’ll catch a cold out here.”
Blue laughed, but scurried toward the door.
“But how will I find you?” he called, sheltering away from the wind.
“Look there, to my home,” Conjordan said, pointing to the moon. “If you can see it, I can see you. I will see you.”
Down in his room, Blue slowly lifted lid of the pizza box. The outside was covered in strange script, and inside... it smelled like a pizza, with crust and cheese and toppings. But it glowed softly, the toppings were different shapes, and just the smell of it made him feel stronger. Lifting a piece to his mouth, Blue took a bite, and felt the power infuse him.
I’m gonna need a cape, he thought.
[BC1]Give him dodgeball super powers
[BC2]Does she become a hero in disguise?
