FRESH NEW PLOTSQUIRREL.
Sigh. So, this idea grabbed onto my leg and refused to let go. Like, I've been churning out chapters like a crazy thing.
Got three parts betaed, three more parts written, two more outlined. Go figure.
It's a J2 fusion with . . . Julian May's Saga of Pliocene Exile and the Galactic Milieu Trilogy. I can't manage to find the muse for any of my TEN BILLION OTHER WiPs, but give me a new idea and I'm just as prolific as a . . . great big prolific thing.
It would probably help if you've read at least some of the books before diving into this, but I tried my best to make it understandable for unfamiliar readers. Last-minute beta by the ever-helpful lucifrix, who as always, manages to keep me from becoming too purple in my prose.
Teaser: Jensen’s older brother Josh had been at the Coercer Academy for three years already, and his little sister MacKenzie was too young to understand what was wrong with Jensen and why he had to leave.
Rebel Diamonds, J2 fusion, 1 / ?
Rebel Diamonds, 1 / ?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jensen Ackles was fourteen when he was declared hopelessly noncombatant and most likely completely emasculated.
His embarrassed parents packed his things and made plans to ship him off to the most distant Redactor House in the country, like the defective Jensen knew he was. There would be no tearful farewells or promises to write. Even before he left, his father was in the middle of delicate negotiations with the Middle East and couldn’t be interrupted for his failure of a middle child, and Jensen’s mother had her tennis league’s quarterfinal matches to schedule.
Jensen’s older brother Josh had been at the Coercer Academy for three years already, and his little sister MacKenzie was too young to understand what was wrong with Jensen and why he had to leave. Fortunately, the Ackles’ ranch was on the outskirts of town, because when the nanny informed her that Jensen was leaving, the psychokinetic tantrum she threw tore the house off its foundations and flattened the landscape for a good mile around. The Ruling Council in Dallas was so delighted with seven-year-old Mack’s early potential that the Richardson town fathers threw a parade in her honor when the psycho-testing showed that her PK talent was already approaching the levels of some Magnates.
Jensen was happy that Mack was going to be so successful, and at least that proved that he was the only freak who was doomed to bring shame to their family.
The family chauffeur drove him to the airport for the flight that would take Jensen to Scranton, Pennsylvania, and away from everyone and everything he’d ever known. Jeff Morgan was a grizzled veteran, dark-haired and bearlike, taciturn like many who had seen battle, but he’d always had a smile and some sweets for Jensen as a child, so he probably came as close as anyone did to being a friend. Jeff had taught Jensen to swim and to drive and done his best to help hide Jensen’s burgeoning redactive ability for as long as they could before Jensen was discovered healing the broken front leg of a neighbor’s prize-winning horse.
But today, Jeff carried Jensen’s bags for him and waited with him at the gate as if maybe he had some idea of what Jensen was losing.
When the announcement for Jensen’s flight crackled over the loudspeaker, Jeff put his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and squeezed until his joints creaked. His eyes rolled over white and he said, his voice echoing low, the cadence strange, “Don’t ever be ashamed of what you are, Jensen. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you’re less of a man because of what you can do. Someday two of you will be greater than either of you ever thought you could be.”
Jensen watched, frozen with shock, as Jeff blinked, and his eyes were brown again, quietly sad and yet somehow twinkling with suppressed mirth. “Sorry, kid,” he said with a conspiratorial wink. “Precog’s the most unreliable of the meta-senses, and I never know what I say when it comes on me. Your folks hired me for farsensing, you know, riding herd on you and your brother and sister, and the Seeing never comes ‘cept when it wants.”
“Um, sure,” Jensen said, still feeling a little shocked, as if the words were electricity, burning themselves into his memory. He folded them away with care, along with the warmth of Jeff’s smile and the scratch of his salt-and-pepper beard when he unexpectedly leaned forward and swept Jensen into a hug before releasing him and pushing him gently towards the gate for his flight. “You take care of yourself, kid,” Jeff told him, a rough and unfamiliar affection rasping in his words.
Jensen squared his shoulders, determined to make the best of things, and marched away to the plane that would take him to a whole new world.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hope you all like it! I'm going to try and post the second and third parts tomorrow, before I leave for vacation.
Got three parts betaed, three more parts written, two more outlined. Go figure.
It's a J2 fusion with . . . Julian May's Saga of Pliocene Exile and the Galactic Milieu Trilogy. I can't manage to find the muse for any of my TEN BILLION OTHER WiPs, but give me a new idea and I'm just as prolific as a . . . great big prolific thing.
It would probably help if you've read at least some of the books before diving into this, but I tried my best to make it understandable for unfamiliar readers. Last-minute beta by the ever-helpful lucifrix, who as always, manages to keep me from becoming too purple in my prose.
Teaser: Jensen’s older brother Josh had been at the Coercer Academy for three years already, and his little sister MacKenzie was too young to understand what was wrong with Jensen and why he had to leave.
Rebel Diamonds, J2 fusion, 1 / ?
Rebel Diamonds, 1 / ?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jensen Ackles was fourteen when he was declared hopelessly noncombatant and most likely completely emasculated.
His embarrassed parents packed his things and made plans to ship him off to the most distant Redactor House in the country, like the defective Jensen knew he was. There would be no tearful farewells or promises to write. Even before he left, his father was in the middle of delicate negotiations with the Middle East and couldn’t be interrupted for his failure of a middle child, and Jensen’s mother had her tennis league’s quarterfinal matches to schedule.
Jensen’s older brother Josh had been at the Coercer Academy for three years already, and his little sister MacKenzie was too young to understand what was wrong with Jensen and why he had to leave. Fortunately, the Ackles’ ranch was on the outskirts of town, because when the nanny informed her that Jensen was leaving, the psychokinetic tantrum she threw tore the house off its foundations and flattened the landscape for a good mile around. The Ruling Council in Dallas was so delighted with seven-year-old Mack’s early potential that the Richardson town fathers threw a parade in her honor when the psycho-testing showed that her PK talent was already approaching the levels of some Magnates.
Jensen was happy that Mack was going to be so successful, and at least that proved that he was the only freak who was doomed to bring shame to their family.
The family chauffeur drove him to the airport for the flight that would take Jensen to Scranton, Pennsylvania, and away from everyone and everything he’d ever known. Jeff Morgan was a grizzled veteran, dark-haired and bearlike, taciturn like many who had seen battle, but he’d always had a smile and some sweets for Jensen as a child, so he probably came as close as anyone did to being a friend. Jeff had taught Jensen to swim and to drive and done his best to help hide Jensen’s burgeoning redactive ability for as long as they could before Jensen was discovered healing the broken front leg of a neighbor’s prize-winning horse.
But today, Jeff carried Jensen’s bags for him and waited with him at the gate as if maybe he had some idea of what Jensen was losing.
When the announcement for Jensen’s flight crackled over the loudspeaker, Jeff put his hands on Jensen’s shoulders and squeezed until his joints creaked. His eyes rolled over white and he said, his voice echoing low, the cadence strange, “Don’t ever be ashamed of what you are, Jensen. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you’re less of a man because of what you can do. Someday two of you will be greater than either of you ever thought you could be.”
Jensen watched, frozen with shock, as Jeff blinked, and his eyes were brown again, quietly sad and yet somehow twinkling with suppressed mirth. “Sorry, kid,” he said with a conspiratorial wink. “Precog’s the most unreliable of the meta-senses, and I never know what I say when it comes on me. Your folks hired me for farsensing, you know, riding herd on you and your brother and sister, and the Seeing never comes ‘cept when it wants.”
“Um, sure,” Jensen said, still feeling a little shocked, as if the words were electricity, burning themselves into his memory. He folded them away with care, along with the warmth of Jeff’s smile and the scratch of his salt-and-pepper beard when he unexpectedly leaned forward and swept Jensen into a hug before releasing him and pushing him gently towards the gate for his flight. “You take care of yourself, kid,” Jeff told him, a rough and unfamiliar affection rasping in his words.
Jensen squared his shoulders, determined to make the best of things, and marched away to the plane that would take him to a whole new world.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hope you all like it! I'm going to try and post the second and third parts tomorrow, before I leave for vacation.