Master Of The Omnitrix
Chapter 21 - Butterfly Effects Pt.1
Kevin's POV
He was unable to picture himself in such a warm, caring environment. He had tried to pretend he was normal and still had a family, a mother who would hold him gently but protectively and a father who would teach him, guide him. But the vision would last barely a second.
Not now though.
A Plumber.
A Plumber.
Pride swelled in his c.h.e.s.t as he smiled proudly, absently rubbing the pad of his thumb over the smooth face of his badge over and over again.
He was a Plumber.
Just like his father.
A real Plumber, one that didn't need to slip into the shadows when the law came around because he was on parole.
His thoughts now turned somewhat grim. After all this time away, perhaps it was finally time to return to his mother. He'd had a lot of time to think about what happened that night, as he'd watched his mother walk away, her last words still ringing in his ears.
'Mommy…can't handle your talent anymore, sweetie. I'm sorry. I love you.'
When they are young, Osmosians can't absorb matter. Call it our larval state. Instead, we can pull energy out of thing.
But thanks to this Mechamorph armour ....
It was such a boring mission, too. Plumbers from the Outer Arm had sent word of water robbers spotted in the vicinity of Earth's solar system.
Bing Boom , The would be thieves of the Arctic are arrested.
After returning, Kevin went away from his base to parole the streets of New York for any alien activity with butterflies in his stomach.
He'd been a skinny, twitchy little thing the last time she saw him. No muscle, skin and bones, with big brown eyes and clumsy feet. Wild, too, so full of energy for obvious reasons, and loud. A regular juvenile delinquent—too much energy for anything good, too loud to cover it up, and enough reckless to try anything.
Now, he has the build of an athlete; good muscle, tall and broad-c.h.e.s.ted. His eyes had grown darker and lost their childish largeness, giving the new space to a square jaw and strong nose. He was quieter, more reserved with the black hair, the same length as it had always been.
He owes Tennyson big time.
He was unable to picture himself in such a warm, caring environment. He had tried to pretend he was normal and still had a family, a mother who would hold him gently but protectively and a father who would teach him, guide him. But the vision would last barely a second.
Not now though.
A Plumber.
A Plumber.
Pride swelled in his c.h.e.s.t as he smiled proudly, absently rubbing the pad of his thumb over the smooth face of his badge over and over again.
He was a Plumber.
Just like his father.
A real Plumber, one that didn't need to slip into the shadows when the law came around because he was on parole.
His thoughts now turned somewhat grim. After all this time away, perhaps it was finally time to return to his mother. He'd had a lot of time to think about what happened that night, as he'd watched his mother walk away, her last words still ringing in his ears.
'Mommy…can't handle your talent anymore, sweetie. I'm sorry. I love you.'
When they are young, Osmosians can't absorb matter. Call it our larval state. Instead, we can pull energy out of thing.
But thanks to this Mechamorph armour ....
It was such a boring mission, too. Plumbers from the Outer Arm had sent word of water robbers spotted in the vicinity of Earth's solar system.
Bing Boom , The would be thieves of the Arctic are arrested.
After returning, Kevin went away from his base to parole the streets of New York for any alien activity with butterflies in his stomach.
He'd been a skinny, twitchy little thing the last time she saw him. No muscle, skin and bones, with big brown eyes and clumsy feet. Wild, too, so full of energy for obvious reasons, and loud. A regular juvenile delinquent—too much energy for anything good, too loud to cover it up, and enough reckless to try anything.
Now, he has the build of an athlete; good muscle, tall and broad-c.h.e.s.ted. His eyes had grown darker and lost their childish largeness, giving the new space to a square jaw and strong nose. He was quieter, more reserved with the black hair, the same length as it had always been.
He owes Tennyson big time.
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