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dkstories

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dkstories last won the day on April 11 2013

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10,322 Adept Scribe 1st Class

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  1. Registration with the Mage’s Council of the Valley of the Sun is mandatory if you are hearing this message. The message kept repeating over and over again, and Corey tried to block it out the way the woman, Linda, had showed him. It became faint, almost impossible to hear, but it was still there. That was when the short man with the jet black hair stepped in front of him, looking eye to eye with him. “Jesus, you look like a little kid!” The man said, and his voice held just enough obvious humor to keep Corey from running. How had the man gotten past the metal scanners? He remember
  2. “That is one hunk of a man.” Emilio Sharpe stated as he looked out of the plane’s window. The wings had rotated to their vertical position, and the propellers were now glorified rotors as the Osprey descended onto Clairville’s extended set of landing pads just outside the city gates. Worthington looked out the same window and smiled before turning to give Emilio a stern stare. “That man is off-limits, Emilio.” He warned his squad leader as the plane jostled slightly with touchdown. Worthington turned away from the window and tried not to show his men the erection now tenting his camo pa
  3. This is the uncompleted third part of the Worthington Sinclair story. Only 3 chapters are available to be posted.
  4. “Fine.” Randall Smythe said, and Worthington felt the thrill of victory yet again. Actually, it was the first time in four years that he’d felt the thrill quite this strong, two long years of half-victories and half-measures. “You are correct, Worthington. All of these plans meet the conditions of your father’s will. The question I have is this: will he say yes?” “I think so,” Worthington answered as the thrill of victory faded away. It had been four years ago, just after their graduation from high school when the Demon Lord Blasoc had led an army of demons against Clairville. At the ti
  5. Worthington sighed as he looked at his computer monitor and closed his eyes before continuing typing the conclusion of the after-action report. He was back in Clairville, after spending Christmas and the next few days conducting ‘clean-up' operations on the island off the coast of California. Typing this report was one of the most difficult things he'd ever done and put it off as long as he could, trying to deal with the emotions and swirling thoughts that were running through him. The cleanup operations are complete, and we were able to adjust the memories of 241 civilians that were tr
  6. "What a way to spend Christmas." Carlos Rodriguez said over the noise of the plane's tilt-rotor engine. The flight so far was bumpy, especially since they'd descended to skimming just above the waves as they approached the small island. "Can the talk, Rodriguez," Weatherby said in a stern voice as he looked out the small porthole-like window of the aircraft at the dark water below them. Brandon was curled up, still half-asleep next to Worthington, who leaned back against the bulkhead of the aircraft and tried to close his eyes. "It's still two days before Christmas," Collins said
  7. "I feel overwhelmed," Worthington admitted the Saturday after he had met the President at the site of the demon-controlled mage attack. He was back home in Clairville for the first time since he’d left more than nine days ago. Now he had a week’s worth of schoolwork to catch up, finals to study for, a Demon Lord to hunt down, and a mound of paperwork waiting for him in the office on the second floor of the Keep. That wasn’t even mentioning the meetings that were scheduled or the training sessions with the government mages. "No fucking shit." Jamie laughed from where he sat on the other s
  8. "The President wants to know why a seventeen-year-old kid is at the center of another one of these incidents." Ms. Huntington's voice was nearly shrill in his ear as Worthington walked outside the mobile command trailer the local police had set up. He stayed underneath the tent awning though, so the helicopters flying overhead would not be able to get a picture of him. They were next to the Tower of Terror attraction, just between it and the Aladdin stage building. The park was empty of all tourists, and the mobile command center was the hub of activity for dozens of police, Disney secu
  9. "No," Worthington said flatly, although the corners of his lips threatened to break out into an uncontrolled grin. He was wearing the tight, dark gray Pirates t-shirt he’d bought the other day, with the skull on the left side and other black designs that he thought had looked cool. On his head sat a black ball cap that Kyle had ‘worked’ so that the edges of the hat’s bill curled inwards, and he had on a pair of brown cargo shorts with flip-flops. "The picture is right there!" Kyle asserted, pointing at the computer screen in the booth right before the attraction’s gift store. Disney was
  10. 25. Chapter 25 "Slow down, Mark," Worthington said carefully as the man began to ramble on again. He'd just shown up and started going on about Worthington having come so quickly, but hadn't said what was wrong yet. Was he even a Disney employee? Sure, he had a uniform and a nametag, but a mage would find that easy to get, even one as weak as this man. "Oh, I'm so sorry Mr. Sinclair." The man said as he blinked and took a deep breath. "I am just standing here rambling on and haven't even introduced myself. My name is Mark Castle, and I am a cast member here at Disney. I've been h
  11. "A guy could get spoiled traveling like this," Kyle said with an appreciative smile at the insides of the limousine as Worthington climbed in after him. They sat next to each other in the back seat while a flight attendant from the business jet put their luggage away in the vehicle's trunk. "Do you own that jet?" "Not directly," Worthington answered with a smile of his own. He did enjoy traveling on the smaller business jets like that one. They were so much nicer than even first class on a commercial airliner. "My family's investments include seats on the Board of Directors of several c
  12. "Ah knew Ah'd find you up here." Kyle drawled as he entered Worthington's bedroom on the fifth floor of Clairville Keep. The drapes were drawn back from the southern facing windows and showed the reddening of the sky as sunset approached. It had been raining off and on all day, and the skies were still partly cloudy. "What are you wearing?" Worthington asked him with a frown as he turned around from his desk area and looked towards the brown-haired young man that had been so frustrating to him of late. Kyle was wearing soft white pants that ended just below his knees and green knee-hig
  13. What was it that Kyle had said that morning of the whole debate about homosexuality and sin? Oh yeah. "You've seen demons, they're real, right? So, what about angels?" It had been a good question, Worthington reflected and represented a hole in his understanding of magic. In the week and five days since then he had asked questions of other, more experienced mages both Light and Dark and still not found any concrete answers. No mage had ever reported having a discussion with angels or summoning such heavenly beings. No one knew a definitive answer on God's existence, nor did they know fo
  14. "No, Kyle, you can't force yourself into balance," Worthington said tiredly as he sat in the workroom that was under Jamie's house in Scottsdale. It was nearly midnight, and they had been at this for three hours now, and Kyle was still having problems finding his internal balance with his magic. The brown haired guy was nearly drenched in sweat, with his green t-shirt stuck to his body and already showing the white rings of salty sweat stains on it while his jeans clung tightly to his body. The overall effect was almost too much for Worthington to handle, so he was sitting on the cool s
  15. The locker room brought back so many memories as its distinctive smell hit Worthington's nostrils. This was a fairly new school, but even in the few years it had been in existence, the locker room still smelled of sweat, mustiness, and all those other smells that were associated with active guys his age and younger. It was the last period of the day; his Sports P.E. class and Worthington didn't want to be there at all. Josh and Tom were there already, and they had made room for him on one of the benches for the annual ritual of the coaches assigning lockers. Both of them were smiling, bu
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