Friday Repost: "No Idea" by Nemo

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The Captain

By Carlos Palanca

Scott was sitting in the bleachers, watching his friend, Jake fight his opponent. Jake was having his last wrestling match for the semi-finals. It was a privilege for Scott to watch his friend compete for he was the one who trained him to be a better wrestler and a better athlete.

Jake's opponent was shorter than him but just as muscular. They were both having a difficult time bringing one of them down. Then, Jake suddenly made a desperate move. It was the move that Scott taught him to use on bigger opponents. With some quick maneuvering of his legs, Jake immediately brought his opponent down on the mat. The crowd cheered knowing that their school team just made it to the finals.

After the match, Scott approached Jake and told him that they need to talk. They went to a secluded corner.

"What was that? I thought I told you not to use that move on guys like him!!!" Exclaimed Scott.

Seanday Retro: From 2008 pt1

Had a stinking cold over the past week, so posting some 'classic' caps from 2008 that you may not have seen before.

Miller was just pulling the edges of the suit together as Sally walked around the corner, he flexed and tightened his abs in a fake pose as he sealed himself into the suit that had been Chris his roommate only minutes earlier.

The inside of the suit still felt damp and warm to Miller’s skin, but Chris’s muscles were already performing for Miller just as they had for their previous owner.

“Oooh, sexy” cooed Sally. Miller had always loved Sally but she only had eyes for Chris. Miller smiled using Chris’s cute grin; a powerful weapon he’d seen Chris use on many girls – Sally blushed and Miller put Chris’s big arm around her and took her back to the apartment...

Caption This (6th Jun)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Sudden Changes

by Carlos Palanca

It was another day for Dr. Dylan Pines, the school phycologist. He is the part-time guidance counselor for East Central High School. He would usually sit on his comfy chair, dealing with students who need serious attitude adjustments. The school usually calls him in whenever there are extreme and somewhat juvenile cases that needed to be taken care off immediately

It was about 2:30 in the afternoon. The day was almost done until his friend, Mr. Jacob Stone, who happens to be a teacher in the institution, entered his office while forcefully getting a student to go inside.

“Get in here, you!” ordered Mr. Stone.

“Whoa! Jacob! Mr. Stone! Is that a way to treat a student?” said Dylan.

“To this kind of student, I think yes!” He exclaimed. “Now, sit here you little troublemaker!” he ordered as he forcefully let the student sit on one of the two chairs on the other side of Dylan’s desk. “Alright Alex! I think you know Mr. Pines.”

“Sup!” said Alex.

Dylan only showed a fake smile to the student as he forced himself to stay in a positive manner. “Okay. So, Alex. I want you to sit right here for a few minutes while I talk to Mr. Stone outside. Okay?”

Seanday Extra: Europe Bound

I was travelling through Europe, and crossed into Serbia. But instantly felt out of place. Although I was six foot, and 190lbs there was something about these people--particularly those in their early 20s that unsettled me.

I wasn't prepared to move on quickly, I wanted to learn about their culture--like all the other countries I'd passed through on my journey. Making my way through the busy streets, I tried to remain inconspicuous but it was difficult.

Stopping at a grocers, a watched a group of men who seemed to be waiting. After a couple of minutes a minibus arrived, and an older man walked through the small group and tapped a number of them on the shoulder. They in turn got into the minibus. A few moments later it left, I guessed it must be people looking for casual labour.

The remainder of the group started to disperse, and one of the prospective workers headed towards me. He was about twenty, maybe younger and looked a bit shorter than me. He was wearing a hoody, sweatpants with a padded jacket to protect against the harsh weather.

He looked tired, but a strength in his features showed he was a strong, hard worker. As he passed me I grabbed his sleeve, he spun around and scowled at my muttering something in a language I didn't understand. "You speak English?"

"Yes."

"Are you looking for work?" I asked. He nodded. "I'm looking for someone to work for me for a week."

Caption This (30th May)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Seanday Shorts: Observe and Report, Pt2

Read Part One Here

I gasped drawing air through Stanchik's lungs--my borrowed body. He had the stamina for another session with Reynolds, but I had a schedule to keep--Britain was waiting. My orders were to take the place of a British agent. S.C.A.R.P., they trusted no-one with their skin-suit technology.

"Ok, enough," I said pushing him away. He fell backward and looked at me.

Reynolds sat on his bed, a grin on his face. "I never guessed you were--"

I cut him off, "I'm not. Just wanted some relief before I left." Reynolds nodded, but I could see he doubted my words.

After cleaning myself up, I pulled on the dress shirt and pants. In the mirror I plucked at the seams, the appearance was important to Stanchik.

"Reynolds, wash my kit. Make sure you put it away--tidy." He collected my discarded fatigues, saying nothing.

---

It was a brisk, confident walk to the officers quarters to meet the developer. Keeping in character I saluted all the officers I passed.

I arrived to find an older man waiting by the jeep. He was in his early forties, with a heavy build--a soldier that had let his physique slip from his hands. I tossed my luggage into the back and he offered a hand. "Richards. Greg Richards," he told me as I shook his hand.

Driving to the airfield, he asked my name. "Seth Stanchik," I replied.

I loaded our luggage into the waiting transporter. Its interior was vast and filled with cargo destined for an American base in Britain.

The crew was small, just four people located towards the front of the aircraft. We sat in some temporary seating among the freight.

As we reached cruise height, Richards leaned forward. "Who do you work for?"

"I work for the president," I replied, drawing it from Stanchik's personality. I never give away my real identity. Richards leaned back and nodded thoughtfully.

An hour into the flight, I could feel my legs tingling--I needed to stretch them. I walked towards the rear of the aircraft running my hand along the covered freight and come across one of the crew. He continued to check a linkage in the floor, I nodded and turned, starting to walk back to Richards.

I heard a noise behind me, and then a striking pain ripped through my head before I fell into darkness. I flinched  inside Stanchik, I tried to move, but I was unable to move. I had no option and pulled myself from the soldier's body.

Caption This (23rd May)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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Guest Post: Surston Hall

by Anon

Surston Hall Boys Academy had a knack for football. Rain or shine, night or day, the Surston Blue Devils always blew away the competition. It even had a way of bringing out the "best" in it's students. Matt had applied early action to Surston Hall, and got accepted with a full ride scholarship; showing the highest test scores the school had ever seen. The only problem was this: Surston Hall was all the way in Vermont, and poor Matt was worried about leaving his family all the way in Oklahoma. But there was something about Surston Hall that peaked his attention: their sports teams.

When his plane landed in Burlington, Matt was greeted with a private chauffeur and towncar. It took a staggering 2 hours to get to the campus of Surston Hall, just outside the city of St. Johnsbury. When Matt looked out the window, he was amazed by what he saw.

The school was gigantic. Towers and spires, gables and lawns... It was an incredible sight. There was one foreboding aspect of the school: all the students were hot. It seemed as if every sport on earth had a club, and they were all practicing at once. Sexy soccer guys, football jocks, smokin' basketballers, and hot lax bros littered the grounds around the dorms. When Matt pulled up, a huge sense of isolation set in. Matt wasn't by any means unattractive, but he definitely was not the type of guy that would fit in at Surston Hall. He wore only black, he gauged his ears, dyed his hair... It just was a different lifestyle.

The towncar pulled away and ran off into oblivion, and Matt stood on the sidewalk with his bags, not knowing what to do with himself. Pressing through, he gathered all his strength and checked into the school. Walking into the atrium of the main administrative building was like walking into a different time. Giant gothic arches and wrought iron chandeliers gave the main hall a very ominous air. Behind a small, dimly lit desk was a very old woman typing away at a laptop. She looked up somberly, and asked for Matt's papers. He handed them over to the old woman and waited for her to say "Welcome!" or "Nice to meet you!" But, alas, nothing came. She handed him a blue manila folder, with the school emblem on it, and shoo'ed him away with her hands.

Seanday Shorts: Observe and Report, Pt1

It was a new technology, a tool for undercover work--for norms, those who weren't lucky enough to have a 'talent'.

I'd been working for S.C.A.R.P. for the past six years, one of just a handful of agents plucked from the real world to work for the agency.

My next assignment read like a holiday; no danger, no killing, just observation. But even so, being a professional there was no time to relax.

Flipping through the paperwork I familiarised myself with the assignment. S.C.A.R.P. had developed a process for creating skin-suits. A way to copy someone's physical identity--I chuckled, that would upset the shape-shifters. The skinsuits would give the ability for regular operatives to go under cover, relieving the pressure on the team.

I skimmed over the details but stopped when I noticed the skinsuits flaws: they needed operatives of approximately the same build and they didn't give the wearers any memories or skills of the originals. Although there was a note about a neural link to the originals.

A couple of pages on I found the details for my part. It described a partnership with similar agencies in the Britain who would be testing out the suits, and in return they would share their neural technology.

The senior developer was going out to join the small team already setup, and escorted by a soldier who would act as a nontechnical assistant. This was my first hop, British intelligence had no idea the skills S.C.A.R.P. agents had. I was to use this soldier to get into the country undetected, from there I was to engage one of the British agents testing the suits. The brief explained that the agency wanted accurate feedback from the agent, but reading between the lines I knew they didn't trust the British and just wanted their own man on the inside.

I handed the brief back and followed my handler. "That's your man," he told me pointing at a soldier.

He was at a counter, checking in some gear. He wasn't heavy built, but tall and lean. His shirt suggested a sinewy strength of a swimmer. The profile said he was twenty-four; his name was Seth Stanchik.

Caption This (16th May)

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

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