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Old October 7th, 2006, 10:09 AM  
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Melchi0r's Forum Picture
Join Date: February 22, 2006
Location: Pennsylvania
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Default Re: The Dumaniz (name may change)

“You’re just jealous.”
Ro fumed. I giggled softly.
Then my leg was hot.
I looked down and my fashionably faded jeans were ablaze.
And with a hissing noise, the flame extinguished. I checked my leg. She had burned away at some area of the bottom of my jeans, and my skin was slightly burned.
“Oh, great, you’re so nice Ro.”
Now it was her turn to laugh. ‘Tpthzz!” she hissed.
“Imagine my leg looking not burned. Now. And make it nice and lean, with rippling muscles, and do the other leg too!”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Okay,” she said. Suddenly my leg sprouted a thicket of wiry black hair.
“Oh my GAWD!” I screamed. “That is so- RO!!!”
“I’m sorry!” she gasped. She was laughing very hard, and she started to wheeze, leaning over, but still cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West.
I glared at her maniacally. A few knives started to rise out of their slots in the wooden knife holder.
“Oh, gosh… OH FINE!” she said when she saw the knives hanging in the air. My leg was back to normal, but not rippling with muscle. I frowned. The knives fell on the floor.
“So back on topic…” I continued.
“I have no idea what we’re supposed to do, so why don’t we just try to cope?”
I laughed in spite of myself.

"Oh, don't worry. Coping will be the FUN part," I said, grinning wickedly. I couldn't wait for school tomorrow. Ok, so maybe if someone (besides Shamus) found out, I'd still be labeled a dork. Basically, all I needed to do was think about what I wanted to have happen, and it would happen. Maybe I should experiment. I looked hard at Shamus' face and thought intently. What did I want to do to him. Deformation? I could make him look like…The hunchback of Notre Dame. He was ugly.
“Ro…what are you doing to me? Don't you even THI-RO!!" he screamed. I grinned. Waves of fat rippled out from his T-shirt, making it look like he gained 900 pounds on the spot, like my Seventh Grade basketball coach. Now THAT was funny. Shamus seemed to disagree.
"When I get…my hands…on you!" he said slowly, as though the fat was clogging his throat. His face turned bright red in anger. I could feel a sudden change in the air. Something sparked next to my ear, causing me to jump. The knives in on the floor became animated again and pointed themselves at my throat.
"Fix it! NOW!" he commanded. I want to laugh, and run back to my house to leave him like that for school, but he most likely would've killed me. I mean, three steak knives, a paring knife, a butcher's knife, a bread knife, and a meat cleaver all pointed at your neck doesn't usually mean you're happy about something.
Silently, the pit of my stomach lurching as one of the cold knives touched my bare skin, I released the illusion. He didn't immediately put the knives down, just examined his body. Something sparked on his face.
"Give me abs, too," he said.
"What? No way!" I protested, "I'm not using my power to benefit you!"
"Do you have much of a choice?"
"Oh, come off it. What, are you going to kill me or something?"
"I could,"
"But you're not going to."
“Watch me." Here, a knife poked into me back hard. Glaring, I thought of the disgusting image…Shamus Dougal with abs.
Feeling the change, he let the knives drop and lifted up his shirt.
"Oh god! Let me get out of the room at least!" I screamed, dashing out.

“Yes!” I punched the air above me. “I’m hot, er, hotter than I was before!
“You sicken me,” she said from the den.
“Fine, I put my shirt down.” I punched myself in the stomach. My fist landed with a thunk. I smiled.
“I can’t believe I helped you become even more egotistical!” she groans.
“Oh, like I haven’t heard that one before. Then I felt like my stomach was being emptied. “You little-“
“Shut up,” Ro replied. “Shamus, when will you learn not to ff… mess with me?” she finished.

"And don't you DARE try and threaten me with knives. I could take you in a head on battle of the newly obtained super powers and beat you…BLINDFOLDED!" I said, sticking out my tongue.
"Yeah, right. You couldn't beat me in volleyball and I detest the sport," he scoffed. I could physically feel my eye twitch at this.
"You are so…" again, I couldn't find the right word to fit him.
“What? Are your insults coming up dry?"
Without warning, I picked up a knife and flung it at his head. He stopped it in midair. Note to self: don't use metal objects…

“You little… slut!!” I yelled. I flexed my mind like I flexed my dearly missed abs. The knife spun forward toward Rowena in a circular motion. She dodged the spinning blade and it fell on the floor.
“You SON of a-“ she snarled, but I cut her off with a whoop. “Why are you celebrating? You missed me… duh!”
“I know, Einstein. I was happy because this is the first time I actually made something move on purpose.
“Oh, snap,” Ro said.
“I know, isn’t this great! I can throw more knives now while doing things like eating cereal!” I whooped and punched the air again.
Ro chided, “Little child, when will you grow up?”

"Look who's talking! You just made me gain 900 pounds out of jealousy!" he said incredulously.
"Yeah, but you deserved it. Besides, I've already done things with my power on purpose," I sniffed, raising my nose in the air and standing up again. Suddenly, a toaster flew into my stomach, knocking me over and driving the wind from my lungs. He sniggered.
"That's the way we're gonna do things?" I asked, more to myself than to the pig. In my mind, I summoned up a sword. Yes, I will admit, I do have a little obsession with swords. They're just so…neat! I mean, who nowadays uses swords? It's so obscure, it's cool!
I looked to Shamus' face to see any sign of fear. He actually hid it pretty well for the coward he was. Except his eyes widened. It was a minute change, but I caught it. Of course, someone was always more intimidating with a sword in hands.
He wasn't going to let this go though. He had been challenged. By me. Flying to his hands was a pipe. He obviously didn't have a sword in his house, or else he would've called that to the kitchen. I guess a pipe was…barely sufficient.
With one last glare, I rushed towards him, swinging wildly. I had never actually been taught to fight, per say. I just picked up sticks and stuff and swung them around. Sometimes, I'd bully Fran into trying to take me on, but I'd always win. So, needless to say, my moves weren't that good.

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