[TM] 338 - Nicknames
Her father could've come up with at least a dozen ridiculous pet names for her. Just looking at her, as a child, she should've inspired three on the very brightness of her eyes and the way her cheeks came up when she grinned. The hyperactivity that kept her going from morning until noon until night, that, maybe, just once, might have given her a teasing nickname. One that would be remembered when she was older, when she was exhausted and her father could look across the room at her and remind her of when she used to be so active. The streak of blonde hair that would run past him in the halls and then back toward him again, that could've hinted at some small word that could've summed her up in an instant.
When her ability manifested, it would've been so simply to push something related to that onto her. She was only four, not too old for nicknames, not too young to not laugh when she heard it. The way the energy came to her fingertips, she could've been 'Firefly' or 'Lightning Bug', both of which were cute and small things. The way lightbulbs would pop if she touched them for too long or light-switches would trip a fuse; she could've been called Sparkles, Sparkler, or even Sparky (not that she'd have approved of the latter).
Instead, she was Elle. Never just Elle, either. There was an implied tone of tolerance, one that sounded near exhausted even if it was the first time she'd approached him. It was almost as if her ability had wrapped itself around her name, though, instead of providing energy to it, she drained it away from him.
Her own father. Looking at her with such high expectations and, seemingly, always disappointed.
She was never his Light or his Champ, never a Doll or Princess; she was Elle. Short for Eleanor, which was as close to a nickname as her father would ever come.
When her ability manifested, it would've been so simply to push something related to that onto her. She was only four, not too old for nicknames, not too young to not laugh when she heard it. The way the energy came to her fingertips, she could've been 'Firefly' or 'Lightning Bug', both of which were cute and small things. The way lightbulbs would pop if she touched them for too long or light-switches would trip a fuse; she could've been called Sparkles, Sparkler, or even Sparky (not that she'd have approved of the latter).
Instead, she was Elle. Never just Elle, either. There was an implied tone of tolerance, one that sounded near exhausted even if it was the first time she'd approached him. It was almost as if her ability had wrapped itself around her name, though, instead of providing energy to it, she drained it away from him.
Her own father. Looking at her with such high expectations and, seemingly, always disappointed.
She was never his Light or his Champ, never a Doll or Princess; she was Elle. Short for Eleanor, which was as close to a nickname as her father would ever come.