Shalimar
First Post
The Break Out
Summer Holiday had been loads of fun for the oldest daughter of Baron James Hughes of Dinorben, but now the holiday was almost up and in two weeks it would be time to buy the school things for the coming year. Both Clover and Danielle would be turning 16 over winter holiday, and the pair of twins were still growing and definitely outgrowing their old uniforms, the pair had just hit a growth spurt that brought them up to 5 foot 9 and ½ inches on the button. If they looked identical, well, there were still ways for the discerning eye to tell the pair apart. Clover, the older by 6 full hours was a bit more rough and tumble, with a little bit more definition to her muscles from countless hours spent at physical play in the dojo (she was a brown belt), or fencing. Danielle on the other hand, while not being quite so enthusiastic about physical education, is still a prize winning show rider.
The easiest way to tell the difference between the twins would be to look at who they were with. Danielle’s friends tended to share her interests in parties, boys, and what was happening in the social circles, and she and her friends could spend hours chatting and taking tea. Clover would rather be out doing something, anything, than sitting around gossiping and her friends included more boys than girls as those in her social circles tended to be like her sister and gravitate to her.
On the last Sunday of August, clover and a bunch of her mates had scored tickets to the football match between Chelsea and Arsenal. The group had a great time at the game which Arsenal won handily. Walking home, Clover and her friends joked around about Chelsea’s dreadful showing, and unfortunately some Chelsea Hooligans didn’t think it was very funny. The Chelsea fans decided to have a bit of a go of it with the teenagers and they jumped them. It was a fun little fight but it couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, not with the police on the watch for such things, and a few of the camera crews leaving the pitch caught some of the action looking to run a piece on the current state of hooliganism in the UK. The cameras got their story, and how.
The camera watched as Clover tried to calm the situation down after one of the hooligans pulled a weapon, a bit of chain. The cameras also caught a second hooligan walk up behind her and crack her on the head with a bottle of whiskey, dropping her to her knees like a puppet with her strings cut. That was when the cameras got the million pound shot, a break out, an Elite coming into her power. Now, Elites aren’t common, no more than a couple hundred in the entire world, and few if any break outs had ever been caught on film. Not that they knew it at the time, but the cameramen had caught another first, the first noble to become an elite.
The brawling teens and hooligans were tossed around like ragdolls in a tornado, which is exactly what they were, for a funnel cloud had formed around the downed girl sending all those around her flying. After what seemed like an eternity for the spectators Clover ceased to bob up and down limply in the tornado and it petered out, laying her to rest gently on her knees. Trying to shake away the dizziness and nausea that she was feeling Clover rose unsteadily to look around confusedly. A brief wave of vertigo rolled over her and she fell into a sitting position facing the police officers who were looking at her apprehensively. “Wha..what happened?” she slurred, the words not going how she wanted them to go.
Putting her hand to the back of her head Clover pulled it away wet with blood. Smiling at the crowd that had gathered the red head waved the red hand cheerily at them. “I think I might have a concussion…I always wondered what that was like…I don’t think I like it very much.” The girl said cheerily, emphasizing her point with a nod, and then a wince of pain at the violent motion of the nod. Then the Honorable Clover Hughes of Dinorben proceeded to pass out.
Summer Holiday had been loads of fun for the oldest daughter of Baron James Hughes of Dinorben, but now the holiday was almost up and in two weeks it would be time to buy the school things for the coming year. Both Clover and Danielle would be turning 16 over winter holiday, and the pair of twins were still growing and definitely outgrowing their old uniforms, the pair had just hit a growth spurt that brought them up to 5 foot 9 and ½ inches on the button. If they looked identical, well, there were still ways for the discerning eye to tell the pair apart. Clover, the older by 6 full hours was a bit more rough and tumble, with a little bit more definition to her muscles from countless hours spent at physical play in the dojo (she was a brown belt), or fencing. Danielle on the other hand, while not being quite so enthusiastic about physical education, is still a prize winning show rider.
The easiest way to tell the difference between the twins would be to look at who they were with. Danielle’s friends tended to share her interests in parties, boys, and what was happening in the social circles, and she and her friends could spend hours chatting and taking tea. Clover would rather be out doing something, anything, than sitting around gossiping and her friends included more boys than girls as those in her social circles tended to be like her sister and gravitate to her.
On the last Sunday of August, clover and a bunch of her mates had scored tickets to the football match between Chelsea and Arsenal. The group had a great time at the game which Arsenal won handily. Walking home, Clover and her friends joked around about Chelsea’s dreadful showing, and unfortunately some Chelsea Hooligans didn’t think it was very funny. The Chelsea fans decided to have a bit of a go of it with the teenagers and they jumped them. It was a fun little fight but it couldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes, not with the police on the watch for such things, and a few of the camera crews leaving the pitch caught some of the action looking to run a piece on the current state of hooliganism in the UK. The cameras got their story, and how.
The camera watched as Clover tried to calm the situation down after one of the hooligans pulled a weapon, a bit of chain. The cameras also caught a second hooligan walk up behind her and crack her on the head with a bottle of whiskey, dropping her to her knees like a puppet with her strings cut. That was when the cameras got the million pound shot, a break out, an Elite coming into her power. Now, Elites aren’t common, no more than a couple hundred in the entire world, and few if any break outs had ever been caught on film. Not that they knew it at the time, but the cameramen had caught another first, the first noble to become an elite.
The brawling teens and hooligans were tossed around like ragdolls in a tornado, which is exactly what they were, for a funnel cloud had formed around the downed girl sending all those around her flying. After what seemed like an eternity for the spectators Clover ceased to bob up and down limply in the tornado and it petered out, laying her to rest gently on her knees. Trying to shake away the dizziness and nausea that she was feeling Clover rose unsteadily to look around confusedly. A brief wave of vertigo rolled over her and she fell into a sitting position facing the police officers who were looking at her apprehensively. “Wha..what happened?” she slurred, the words not going how she wanted them to go.
Putting her hand to the back of her head Clover pulled it away wet with blood. Smiling at the crowd that had gathered the red head waved the red hand cheerily at them. “I think I might have a concussion…I always wondered what that was like…I don’t think I like it very much.” The girl said cheerily, emphasizing her point with a nod, and then a wince of pain at the violent motion of the nod. Then the Honorable Clover Hughes of Dinorben proceeded to pass out.