Turbo-Teen-Terminal

Day 19 of the 25 Days of TF-mas! (Contains girl to car tf) Human anger was a curious thing. It was volatile and variable and wreaked absolute havoc on the minds and bodies of those that experienced it. For an anger like Elliott’s, born from an innumerable series of frustrations and confrontations, it was like a self-powering engine turbine. It churned and roiled under her skin even after the outburst she’d had, causing an itching, coiling discomfort that pressed itself into every available crevice and corner. In self-defense, Elliott’s mind began to shift away from the object of her anger and seek out any and all available distractions. Now that Kat was integrated into Elliott’s mind and body, even it was not immune to the malady of rage. This was not a feeling Kat was used to, as its own experiences with rage were more akin to a wrathful god striking down dissention. This felt much more intimate and personal, and Kat too began to offer up distraction from the clenching

Bret Gregory Matthews Per his insistance, he always spells his name with one T. Birthday: March 11th, 1983 Height: 6'1" Weight: 215 Eye Color: Blue Hair Color: Brown Favorite Color: Red Favorite Food: Pizza Abilities/Special Skills: 1984 Crimson Red Camero SS - ‘Turbo Teen’ Date combined: April 8th, 1999 Talents/Hobbies: Auto body Home: Diego City, CA; Anchorage, AK Relations: Pattie Jones, Alex Carter, Carrie Cirroth, Dr. Thomas Chase Parents: Greg and Carol Matthews License Plate: CA TR9729 AK UG553S Bret was a regular high school student when he got mixed up in a road race. He drove his 1984 Camero, a vehicle that he and best friend Alex Jones rebuilt in the course of a summer auto-body class. That camero was a vehicle that father Greg used for police work in the

Another fifteen minutes later, Michelle put on a brimmed hat and I wore my Twins cap as we piloted the canoe out to the far side of the lake where Tessa, James and Shelly were casting lines. "Hey, look at that," James said as we approached. "A car in a canoe." "James, keep it down," Tessa scolded. "That's not very nice," Michelle said. I smirked. "You're doing it wrong." "What?" Tessa asked. "Yeah," Michelle said. "You see, Greg weighs as much as a car, or maybe more, because his end of the canoe is deeper than mine." "Nah, nah," Shelly said. "Greg weighs as much as Summer." "At least I don't need license tabs," I replied. "No, but you need a speaker that goes 'beep' 'beep' 'beep' when you moonwalk," Michelle smirked. "Oh please," I muttered as I moved the middle of the canoe to help balance it. "Should we test your theory or what?" "That's more like it," Michelle replied. "Now I know I've hit a nerve." "Oh," James smiled nervously as he cast his line. "Maybe I

Luckily, neither Shelly nor I needed to go anywhere in a hurry that night. We both slept through the night, and when we woke, our neighbors had already headed off, presumably in hopes of catching the ferry so they might make it to class, though I had no reason to question if they’d make it on time, despite the fact that today was Saturday. Nonetheless, I had been advised by several rangers in Windigo not to rely on assuming you’d make your appointments. What they did leave, however, was a web address in the dirt. Curious, I took a photo of the website - it had a Wisc.edu prefix and looked safe enough - so I vowed to check it out when I had internet before scratching over the markings in the event it was intended only for us. As Shelly went into the bay to get cleaned up, I fired up the camp stove and fixed breakfast. Heating the cast iron skillet along with our kettle for tea water, I added a package of cubed maple-flavored Spam and sautéed the meat with half a bag of potatoes

Packing the images carefully into a box normally used for storing photo paper, Dr. Bennit made sure that they were separated by firm cardstock to ensure that they would survive the flight home. Although I had every right to keep the camera, I decided to leave it with the lab’s photography equipment for the time being. “You’d just leave that here?” Kira asked. Shrugging, I tried to keep it on the down low. “Call it a temporary equipment loan. I trust it’ll be in good hands.” Kira said she was looking forward to finding a roll of 120mm film to give it a good day in Malibu. Before allowing us to leave for the airport, however, Megan had a request of us. “Could you allow me to make a copy of those?” I nodded. “Sure, which ones?” She asked for a copy of the one of Michelle, myself and the princess on the eastern garden at Windsor, as well as the fabricated images in both the Inner Hall and Tower Bridge. I later learned that Megan would display the last two images somewhere

After that, the party mostly began to break up. Though I didn’t get far enough along with Morgan Freeman or Ken Burns to have my own documentary, they did offer to sign a flyer with Walt’s picture that had been used as a defacto party bulletin. Guess they felt that since I had been part of the process to keep Walt out of prison that I was at least worthy of saying hello to, with which Shelly and I at least got to be in a photograph with them. We didn’t talk much, though, as both left quickly. Outside, Anabelle had been waiting for us. Sometime during the party, Dr. Chase had called our hotel to make sure she had a place to stay, though she wasn’t sure if she would need a room or not. Imagining that I’d have to get her some clothes and toiletries, though, we instead put her on the bus. Nobody seemed to mind that we had another passenger, curiously. Had we missed the tour of the gardens? Nobody seemed to notice that we were no longer doing this, and were instead leaving. We’d

About fifteen minutes later, we had walked through the heart of Oxford. Along the way we passed by Wadham College again, but also the Radcliff Science Library, Rhodes House, Trinity College and its large common green, and also the Church of St. Mary the Virgin. Anabelle advised us to follow Magpie Lane farther south. The infamously named corridor was a narrow street where, I’m told, once had been flanked by many houses of prostitution on either side and was actually known as Grope Lane in some circles, having once been a pun on its original name of Grape Lane. To ease the reputation, the name had been changed in the 1700s after a nearby pub to alleviate some of the negative connotations of the former red light district. Today the alley seemed safe enough to walk in daylight, though I was still reminded of Knockturn Alley. Three blocks later we reached Merton Street. Anabelle advised us to ask at the Porter’s Lodge for directions from there. Inside the lodge was less of an

About ten minutes later, Genevieve escorted Michelle to our common area. Though I might have felt inclined to give Michelle a hug though we hadn’t parted all that long ago, I remembered that she was officially part of my unit and thus we were coworkers. Thus, I saluted her, and she saluted me - which looked authentic enough, even though I outranked her. “Patty, this is, Junior Commander Windsor of the ATS-” I began. “Your majesty,” Michelle said with a bow, clearly recognizing the future Queen of England. Though I couldn’t recall if I had formally shook the princess’s hand, Michelle was able to. Suppose I had done more than that by pulling the princess out from under that truck. I gave her a soft elbow in the side. “It’s supposed to be ‘your royal highness’, you know.” “You’re forgiven,” the princess replied. Michelle smiled nervously. “Um, perhaps we should-” “No need to explain yourselves,” the princess said quickly. “Please join me in the Clarence Tower at your

In the meantime, Ladybug had been following our course briefly, though Margot hadn’t realized that the car took over. “Now now, we’re going west,” Margot said as she quickly steered to continue following a roundabout. Ladybug resisted, however, and continued to ride the roundabout until she once again drove northbound. “Yorktown Road!” Margot snapped. But the car swiftly turned north, remaining on Marshall Road. Now going northbound and unable to continue west, Margot surrendered control of the steering wheel - but now that Ladybug had control of herself again, she also knew that it was time to lose her baggage. Quickly, she pulled over to the left curb, slammed her brake, and then turned off her engine. “What now? Did I say something wrong?” Knowing that she couldn’t break her silence yet, Ladybug waited. “Right, well, perhaps, no, perhaps I shouldn’t have drove through the barrier back at the base.” Ladybug continued to wait. Would Margot - though Ladybug did not

Around me, the blur of the Smith boardroom had vanished. Time seemed to flow normally once more, but I was not in 2022 any longer. Instead, I was standing next to a concrete wall, over a concrete floor, inside of some hanger. Where was Michelle? I reached behind me and felt the wall - yep, concrete. Perhaps I was really here. I pinched myself to be sure. Best of all, 1945 was in full, living color. Not black and white like in the old film reels. Guess I hadn’t expected otherwise; well, here we are. Taking in the stock of the room, I saw more evidence to affirm that I was now inside of a hanger or some other large garage-like structure, as the ceiling was arched while the building was rectangular in shape; only the roof was rounded in a sort of long cylinder. Several large trucks painted in khaki were in my immediate vicinity, bearing the mark of the Red Cross and three distinct letters painted in military stencils - ATS. Near as I could tell, I had appeared beside one

Four buildings deep from the gift shop, Megan took me past Marie’s golf cart where she was standing outside. We had arrived outside of a building that had a brass placard. Stewart Smith Board Room and Courtyard. “Good, I was just going to come and collect you,” Marie said quietly. “Glad you found the place.” She held the door open where a cool air conditioned current escaped. “Please.” For the record, I didn’t think it was time to make any comments. Inside was a narrow lobby with many windows, but we did not tarry before entering the actual event space. A large banquet space with colorful murals on the north wall and a glass walled courtyard to the south greeted us. Tables of eight were scattered throughout the space, aside from a podium at the head of the room. Crowds were already gathered, and we were hardly the first to arrive. At the south end of the room ahead of the courtyard came the scent of warm food and coffee. A large sheet cake remained uncut, but had the

Quantum Wish (or, the Story of Walter Barrett and the Queen of the Britons) After receiving that phone call from Dr. Chase in April, the spring of 2022 developed well enough for the Claxions and their good friend Michelle. Did I mention that the zoo had been open since July of 2020? No? I guess I didn’t get that particular tidbit until well after our return from Nicollet’s Ceremony of the Tides a few weeks prior. Guess that drive-through experience on the Northern Trail hadn’t gone well. “So why the two-week scheduling thing?” I finally asked Michelle sometime on a sunny but not-yet-warm-enough-to-get-out-the-boat day. Suppose it might’ve been April 10th or so, not quite the old man’s birthday nor quite the end of tax season, though I had of course filed a few weeks ago. “Huh?” Having been meandering Facebook on her phone, Michelle might not have been expecting the question. “Actually, Greg, that had more to do with us bumping into each other behind the scenes more than