Since the last time Father Ned had been on this island, he'd traveled the world, tending to flocks far and wide. His work, the work of God, was never completed and Father Ned refused to let Him down. Despite the fact that he'd been to so many places and seen so many things, this island held a special place in his heart. It was riddled with comas ( Read more... )

Yeah, yeah, so technically this wasn't her job yet (and might never be, but shut up), but one of Kennedy's two classes this week had been cancelled and she had some extra energy to work off. Besides, who was going to stop her ( Read more... )

It was the day before graduation. The day before pomp and circumstance, diplomas, smiling seniors and proud guests. What better way to spend that day then partying the night away? That's right, tonight was the night of the senior lock in! Many NPC workers had been busy in town, cleaning up and setting up an abandoned warehouse for the event ( Read more... )

It was Sokka's last day, and there were sniffles and hugs all around at Turtle and Canary. Or, rather, there were sniffles and hugs for everyone, from Sokka -- Bob and Liz, being robotic, weren't capable of sniffling, and Apu wasn't exactly in a sniffly sort of mood ( Read more... )

"HA! HA HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! It's ALIIIIIIIVE!!! It's ALIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!No, nothing was alive. But his sword was finally done! HIS sword! That he'd made himself! And -- unlike, he would have to admit if you forced him to, most of his other artistic endeavors -- it looked pretty spiffy! Like a real sword, almost ( Read more... )

Sokka was all pumped about his making-a-sword-in-the-junkyard activities, and also was trying to avoid thinking about the whole graduating-soon-and-going-home-to-a-war thing ( Read more... )

Things were coming together. Sokka cackled with glee and rubbed his hands together. He was going to forge a blade of GLORY, a blade of RENOWN, a sword appropriate for a warrior of his... okay, appropriate for a warrior of much, much better abilities. But it was going to be HIS ( Read more... )

No zombies. No children. No distractions. It was a perfect day for a fight, and Tyler looked feral as he paced in front of the crowd ( Read more... )

So, Sokka was still (or again, really -- he hadn't made it to the junkyard at all regularly) trying to melt down a spaceship hull and forge a sword out of it. Today, he'd managed to restore power to a ship's plasma cannon (or, as Sokka called it, a "giant frikking laser beam") and managed to keep it from exploding in his face. He'd EVEN managed ( Read more... )

Sokka had (handwavily) been back to the junkyard a few times, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to forge a sword for himself. So far, he'd been unable to cut, melt, bend, dent, or even scratch the sheets of metal he hoped to use. That boded well for the finished product, but sort of sucked for actually MAKING anything. He was ( Read more... )