Title: The life of Sam.
Fandom: Academyverse (Second Generation)
Characters/Pairing: Hellios/Kell; Sam, Dean Michael, That cute girl in Biology Class
Hi. My name is Samuel V. Klein. And I am a perfectly normal high school student at the rebuilt Academy of Hart boarding school for the gifted.
At least that's what I'd like to be able to say. Sure, I suppose that I am a student at Hart Academy. And yeah, unless my parents decide to tell me otherwise, I will continue to believe that my name is still Sam. But I'm not sure I could ever begin to consider my circumstances to be 'normal'. My mother is actually the headmistress of the Academy and has been since it was rebuilt some time after the war surrounding the last time the school actually held students and not weapons of mass destruction. Then again, with the students this school produces, I'm not sure there's much of a difference. Anyway, she was a a hero of the war. Apparently, she used to be known to everyone as "The Scarlett Shockwave," which is actually pretty cool when I think about it. Then again, she also used to run around in a leather corset and latex thigh highs.
Granted, sure, it sounds really hot. And, you know, I'm sure it was. But it's a little uncomfortable to be looking at that picture that fell out of that box in the attic, thinking that it's pretty awesome, and then realizing roughly ten seconds later why that picture is in your attic to begin with. Because that smoking hot babe in the leather and latex is actually your mom.
My dad, apparently, used to be a woman. Or part of a woman. Or something like that. I'm not sure exactly how that managed to work out. All I know is that he's often a half-dozen strawberries short of a fruit salad on most days- and the rest of the days he's missing the bowl. Actually, I can pretty much vouch for the fact that he's often flat-out crazy- and much to my horror, my little sister is turning out to be just like him. Hyne protect us all. He's got quite the temper on him- which usually involves an immediate overload of the complete surrounding power grid. Which means mom usually has to go back in and fix it so the students can actually go to class the next day. Or, on days when she's in a really bad mood, she tells him to go fix it himself. And, in a moment that confirms that my father is actually an intelligent man somewhere inside, he doesn't decide to argue with her.
My parents apparently met in high school. She likes to tell us that she met dad when he tried to kill her for the first time. I sincerely hope she's joking. I somehow know that she's not. As the story goes, somewhere between the yelling and the screaming and the trying to kill each other, they fell in love. This is enough to prove to me that the universe has a sense of humor. You'd never imagine that they were in love if you looked at them, though. There's still plenty of the yelling and the screaming. Not so much of the "trying to kill each other".
Well, at least I think not.
Did I mention that both of them are electromancers? Not even just electromancers. They're you're everyday, run of the mill, people of mass destruction. And because genetics either love or hate me (I have difficulties deciding which), the apple hasn't fallen far from the trees. Well, the apple didn't fall from the tree so much as detach itself and start floating upward into oblivion. Let's just say that about the third time Aunt Serra and Aunt Erika had to replace their circuit breaker when I came to visit, they promptly had Aunt Serra throw together a device for me to wear that would keep me from electrocuting people with a handshake. I'm sure there's a lame pun in here somewhere. I've learned to mostly control it, but for my safety (and for the safety of that cute girl I sit behind in Biology) I generally still wear the device.
I'm sure I'll thank you some day, Mom and Dad. But nope. Not today.
Other things you should know about me include the fact that I go through crossword puzzle books like they're going out of style (Well, they are, but that's beside the point), I recieved my first leather jacket at the age of two, and neither of my parents put up a fight when I said I wanted to join colorguard (they actually encouraged this- stating that I needed to learn how to properly handle long, metal objects).
Oh, and my childhood friend is a country music loving alien. No, really. He's from another planet. And right now, he's sitting in my seat humming something about a wife leaving and a dog dying while his nose is so firmly planted in a book that I'm waiting for it to start poking out the other side.
And that cute girl in my biology class is staring at him.