Wearing the Cape 5: Ronin Games Read Online Free Page A
Author: Marion G. Harmon
Tags: Superhero, Superheroes, supervillain, super hero
girl.’ He thinks you’re just so cute. ”
“Great. Now I’m going to have to kick his butt before he goes home to Mother Russia. Goodnight, Shell.”
“ ’Night, Hope. ”
Chapter Three
One of the most corrosive beliefs given new life by The Event is Ontological Nihilism, the belief that reality itself is arbitrary, illusory. And indeed, what are we to make of the impossibilities around us? In the face of breakthrough powers that give reality to every religious belief, folk superstition, and speculative “science,” can the universe possibly be rational? And if it is irrational, how can it contain any true meaning?
Doctor Mendell, Nihilism and the Age of Uncertainty .
----
An easy breeze stirred the flowering tree, plucking white cherry blossoms away to fall like snow and pushing the long grass surrounding the hill into green waves punctuated by bright spring flowers nodding in the sun. Alone, I decided to explore and my path took me away from the tree and through the lower hills where the seasons changed from one wooded hill to the next. Stepping along the stream, I wandered into autumn to enjoy the jewel-like red maples and yellow gingko trees. Kicking the leaves and breathing their spicy scent, I kept going until I found a little glade by the stream where I could lie down to listen to the water.
When the lazy laughter of the stream turned into my chiming alarm clock and the spot of warm sunlight through leaves turned into Graymalkin sleeping across my leg, I stretched and brushed leaves—my hair, really—away from my face and sat up with a sigh.
“Morning!”
Shell popped into virtual existence by my bed, looked the scene over. “Aww. Wish I could give him a good scratching.”
“After-mass dinner on Sunday, you’ll be here with your shell on.” I scratched Gray’s ears for her; his flipping tail told me he was awake, but he played asleep, too lazy to do anything but imitate a furry lump until I removed the leg that was part of his bed. “So what’s up?” She didn’t usually pop up until I was headed back to the Dome.
“Did you dream again?”
“Yeah.” I ran fingers through my bobbed hair.
It had been as clear as the others and, just like with the rest, so peaceful that I couldn’t even panic about it when my eyes opened. At least I was thinking more while in the dreams, even if I still fell into the same Zen-like acceptance while I was there.
Was that a bad thing, or a good thing?
“Aaaand?”
“And that’s it. Still no sneaky white fox.” Sliding my legs out from under Graymalkin earned me an aggravated look. I scratched his ears in apology and when I didn’t say anything else, Shell shrugged and told me what I didn’t want to hear.
“Blackstone got you the appointment with Doctor Cornelius, for this afternoon. He wants you to take Ozma with you after our publicity photo shoot with the team and Svyatogor.”
“Joy.” I kept scratching Gray, and under my working fingers he rolled over on his back for a quivering morning cat-stretch that doubled his paw-to-paw length. Curling in to tuck his nose under his tail, he went back to sleep. I wished I could. “Talk on the way?”
“Sure. And I got you that training match you didn’t say you wanted with the big guy. After the photo shoot. You know, just in case. Hope?”
Swinging my legs off the bed and standing, I did a vertical imitation of Gray’s stretch. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you told Blackstone.”
----
The parentals were waiting in the kitchen when I came downstairs, Dad dressed for work, Mom dressed for a morning deadheading the roses that surrounded Corrigan Manor—her name for our old Oak Park Victorian whenever she got exasperated with how big a money-pit of a house Dad had talked her into moving the family into. That had been twenty years ago; she’d gone into labor with me in this
“Great. Now I’m going to have to kick his butt before he goes home to Mother Russia. Goodnight, Shell.”
“ ’Night, Hope. ”
Chapter Three
One of the most corrosive beliefs given new life by The Event is Ontological Nihilism, the belief that reality itself is arbitrary, illusory. And indeed, what are we to make of the impossibilities around us? In the face of breakthrough powers that give reality to every religious belief, folk superstition, and speculative “science,” can the universe possibly be rational? And if it is irrational, how can it contain any true meaning?
Doctor Mendell, Nihilism and the Age of Uncertainty .
----
An easy breeze stirred the flowering tree, plucking white cherry blossoms away to fall like snow and pushing the long grass surrounding the hill into green waves punctuated by bright spring flowers nodding in the sun. Alone, I decided to explore and my path took me away from the tree and through the lower hills where the seasons changed from one wooded hill to the next. Stepping along the stream, I wandered into autumn to enjoy the jewel-like red maples and yellow gingko trees. Kicking the leaves and breathing their spicy scent, I kept going until I found a little glade by the stream where I could lie down to listen to the water.
When the lazy laughter of the stream turned into my chiming alarm clock and the spot of warm sunlight through leaves turned into Graymalkin sleeping across my leg, I stretched and brushed leaves—my hair, really—away from my face and sat up with a sigh.
“Morning!”
Shell popped into virtual existence by my bed, looked the scene over. “Aww. Wish I could give him a good scratching.”
“After-mass dinner on Sunday, you’ll be here with your shell on.” I scratched Gray’s ears for her; his flipping tail told me he was awake, but he played asleep, too lazy to do anything but imitate a furry lump until I removed the leg that was part of his bed. “So what’s up?” She didn’t usually pop up until I was headed back to the Dome.
“Did you dream again?”
“Yeah.” I ran fingers through my bobbed hair.
It had been as clear as the others and, just like with the rest, so peaceful that I couldn’t even panic about it when my eyes opened. At least I was thinking more while in the dreams, even if I still fell into the same Zen-like acceptance while I was there.
Was that a bad thing, or a good thing?
“Aaaand?”
“And that’s it. Still no sneaky white fox.” Sliding my legs out from under Graymalkin earned me an aggravated look. I scratched his ears in apology and when I didn’t say anything else, Shell shrugged and told me what I didn’t want to hear.
“Blackstone got you the appointment with Doctor Cornelius, for this afternoon. He wants you to take Ozma with you after our publicity photo shoot with the team and Svyatogor.”
“Joy.” I kept scratching Gray, and under my working fingers he rolled over on his back for a quivering morning cat-stretch that doubled his paw-to-paw length. Curling in to tuck his nose under his tail, he went back to sleep. I wished I could. “Talk on the way?”
“Sure. And I got you that training match you didn’t say you wanted with the big guy. After the photo shoot. You know, just in case. Hope?”
Swinging my legs off the bed and standing, I did a vertical imitation of Gray’s stretch. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you told Blackstone.”
----
The parentals were waiting in the kitchen when I came downstairs, Dad dressed for work, Mom dressed for a morning deadheading the roses that surrounded Corrigan Manor—her name for our old Oak Park Victorian whenever she got exasperated with how big a money-pit of a house Dad had talked her into moving the family into. That had been twenty years ago; she’d gone into labor with me in this
Readers choose
R. K. Narayan
Cathy Maxwell
Israel Gutman
Kemmie Michaels
Sara Jane Stone
Fran Stewart
Lisa Carlisle
Allan Mallinson
Tony O'Neill
Janice Kay Johnson