Difference between revisions of "Template:Featured Articles/45-2022"

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<td valign="top">[[Image:placeholder.gif|left]]'''Moment of Awesome - [[Kyle Gibney|Kyle Gibney/Wildchild]]:''' ''Summary of post, including link to log.''
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<td valign="top">[[Image:MOA Wildchild.png|left]]'''Moment of Awesome - [[Kyle Gibney|Kyle Gibney/Wildchild]]:''' ''[[Exorcism Robotica|Having been tempted with his heart's desire]], [https://xp-logs.dreamwidth.org/4196001.html#cutid1 Kyle makes his choice].''
  
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Kyle, somehow both slender and young in jeans and a Montana Magic Hockey jersey, and tall and muscled, in his black X-Men leathers growled out something profane. Had he been twelve, he would have found himself grounded, his mother's voice breaking shrill as she scolded his language.
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The scolding never came. His mother's voice never called out all his names. He could still hear her, asking him to come in for lunch, that she'd made BLTs, that his dad wanted his help with the shed door.
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The itch in his eyes grew worse, the sting of tears that refused to spill over. "No, just... fucking no. It's not real. Mom's dead, Yvette's dead, Laurie's gone. None of that is my fucking fault."
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The baseball glove in his hand was cold and hot at the same time, the leather shifting brown to green to brown to green again. Kyle brought it down on his knee, and it did not break. He spat, and pulled at the mask with both hands, clawed fingers through the eyeholes "You know what, choices have fucking consequences, but I didn't kill my mom."
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And it cracked, long glowing lines down the middle, and then broke into sharp pieces that sliced Kyle's fingers bloody
 
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Latest revision as of 19:07, 16 October 2022

MOA Wildchild.png
Moment of Awesome - Kyle Gibney/Wildchild: Having been tempted with his heart's desire, Kyle makes his choice.


Kyle, somehow both slender and young in jeans and a Montana Magic Hockey jersey, and tall and muscled, in his black X-Men leathers growled out something profane. Had he been twelve, he would have found himself grounded, his mother's voice breaking shrill as she scolded his language.

The scolding never came. His mother's voice never called out all his names. He could still hear her, asking him to come in for lunch, that she'd made BLTs, that his dad wanted his help with the shed door.

The itch in his eyes grew worse, the sting of tears that refused to spill over. "No, just... fucking no. It's not real. Mom's dead, Yvette's dead, Laurie's gone. None of that is my fucking fault."

The baseball glove in his hand was cold and hot at the same time, the leather shifting brown to green to brown to green again. Kyle brought it down on his knee, and it did not break. He spat, and pulled at the mask with both hands, clawed fingers through the eyeholes "You know what, choices have fucking consequences, but I didn't kill my mom."

And it cracked, long glowing lines down the middle, and then broke into sharp pieces that sliced Kyle's fingers bloody