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Now that Chris had a moment to fully look at the girl, he was shocked. Good shock, mind you. This student was tremendously colourful, and Chris instantly stuck in his big old grin. She stepped into the room, and he felt Daisy worm around on his shoulder. She was always excited to meet new people.
Debs words caused his deep laugh to vibrate within his chest. "Ay, well. Some teachers just don't know how to be fun." He chuckled, his hand moving to slightly readjust his dark wig.
"Daisy is an excellent assistant, aren't Daisy?" The little girl gave a dramatic nod, and Chris had to stabilise her a little lest she fall off.
There was a gasp from both father and child when Deb's hair suddenly turned orange. For a moment they were both dumbfounded before Daisy squealed in excitement and Chris beamed and impressed grin. "That's an impressive power ya got there! Been a mutant since I was a boy, and I still get amazed" He chuckled again, and set Daisy down. "Well I don't see why not, Daisy!" He looked to Deb. "So long as it isn't permanent" He chuckled again; clearly a sound that was familiar within his throat.
"I'm Mr Moore, by the way. And this is my daughter Daisy" He held out his bangle laden arm and offer her his hand
Chris sure as hell was dressed up. His next lesson was a focus on the Eqyptian queens of old. He was decked out in a long, ornate dress (of his own making), a black braided wig, all the hall marks of the great cleopatra. He even had the recognisable liner which had become synonomos with the Egytpians, which Daisy had helped him apply.
"So, do I look like a mighty ruler of Egypt, Daisy?" He asked the young girl, who was rather epicly decked out in a little egytian costume he had also made. After all, the little girl didnt like being left out of Daddy's antics.
"You look so cooooooooooool!" The little girl squealed.
"Well then.. I suppose we need to check if the great gods think youre worthy!" He chuckled, and Daisy squealed, starting to run and dodge between the chairs. Chris followed, chuckling loudly. "ANUBIS NEEDS TO WEIGH YOUR HEART, DAISY" The little girl screamed with joy; of course she knew what Chris was talking about, so she had no fear.
Finally he caught her, scooped her up in his big arms, blew a raspberry on her cheek.
"Hello?"
The voice made him spin around. Before him stood a brightly coloured student. "Oh! Hello!" He grinned, propping Daisy up on his shoulder. "OOOOO DADDY! I want ahir like that" Chris chuckled a little.
Christopher had indeed add his own little touches to the classroom, of course with a massive help from Daisy. Little drawings of various book and history characters were covering his desk and the wall behind it, some by him, some by daisy, some by students. And in the corner was a little play area for the girl. Bean bags, toys, and all the fun things a little girl could want. And Christopher had no problem having the little girl in his class. She was quiet when she needed to be, and never badly behaved.
Today he was curled up on the bean bag with Daisy nestled in his arms, an ornate book in his hands, a plastic tiara on his head. His soft, warm voice filled the room with bright, colourful images as he read. The little girl looked at the silent movie that played out before her.
"“But I don’t want to go among mad people," Alice remarked. "Oh, you can’t help that," said the Cat: "we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad." "How do you know I’m mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn’t have come here.” "
His voice changed effortlessly to match the characters he read, the image's lips before him moving along with his.
But the image snapped away like a tv going off air at his name. "Aw daddy!" Daisy exclaimed, and Christopher ruffled her hair with a laugh, scooping her up in his arms and turning to Gina.
"Hello!" He grinned, transferring the girl to his shoulders, where she promtly began to play with his head, repositioning his tiara.
Christopher has the ability to project narrative stories (both fiction and non-fiction) into reality for a period of time though reading aloud. This is possible though the manipulation of light waves which are morphed to create a desired shape, colour and movement befitting a 3D image read from a book at the time. His images cannot produce sound in any way. The images he creates is able to move, and can be desribed as a coloured, silent movie. His power is a version of "illusion manipulation", though his ability only works when he reads from written text, for example a book. While reading, he activates his ability, which makes the things he reads "come to life". Christopher is able to do this as his power is based in the left ventral occipito-temporal cortex, which is stimulated during reading. The illusions that appear are what he imagines what he reads to look like and might not be an accurate display of what's written.
LIMITATIONS:
-Animation only works with a written text in hand; without any written source his power is useless. -Power can only be used for a certain time before the image to become fuzzy and eventually fizzles out. His record is for 4 hours without rest. -Christopher can only make images of a certain size. He cannot fill a room with an animation. His current record is a area of 4m2. -Badly written material is harder to animate then well written, descriptive material. -Animations are nothing more then projected images; they cannot cause harm or be felt. -The more well known the material is, the clearer the image is. -Focus is required to produce clear, crisp images. If there is minimal focus, the picture may seem little more then a ghost or shadow. If Christopher is distracted, the image fades or suddenly dissapears.
SIDE-EFFECTS:
-Headaches due to strain -Eye strain due to long hours of reading -Disorientation after long use -Brief delusions that subjects of animations are real due to excessive mental strain -Occasional dyslexia type symptoms where letters seem to jumble due to excessive mental strain.
♦ THE FREEFORM ♦
I am Christopher Henry Moore. Named after my grandfather. I grew up in a small house in Glasgow. Two bedrooms, one for my Ma and Dad, and a room for me, my younger brother and my younger sister. Both my parents worked, I was mostly the one who took care of my sibling. Lucas is 5 years younger then me and Nora is 8 years younger. We're all very close. When Ma died, Dad had to work extra hours to keep us in our house. I looked after Lucas and Nora. Eventually we had to move to a cheaper house in the country. I did paper rounds where I could, just to help my dad and sibling where I could.
I manifested at age 14. I remember it like it was yesterday! Nora had gotten very upset over something which had happened at school, so I had been reading her The Hobbit to calm her down. While I read the chapter Roast Mutton, Nora decided to tell me that 'Chrissy! I can see the trolls!" Of course I assumed that this was just due to my story telling prowess, but obviously that wasnt the case. "Mutton yesterday, Mutton today, and blimey, if it dont look like mutton again tomorrer" And out of the corner of I saw... wait... was that a troll! Both me and my sister were terrified, but when I stopped reading, the image of the 3 fuzzy, distored trolls just dissapeared! I did get a pretty bad headache afterwards. A couple days later, we had recruiters knocking at out door. So I was a mutant! Go figure right? We had to move to England so I could go to the mutant school there.
Fast-forward 10 years, and Ive got a history degree, an amazing job as a professor and a stunning, wonderful, beautiful wife. Isla is one of the most beautiful sights ive ever seen. “What a face this girl possessed!—could I not gaze at it every day I would need to recreate it through painting, sculpture, or fatherhood until a second such face is born.” I often told her, quoting her favourite book. She had thick black hair, a smile which could out shine any light and eyes which held more colour then the most beautiful rainbow. We used to spend long hours curled up together, reading books together, watching the scenes play out before us. She always would mark out page with a dried daisy. Daisies were her favourite flower.
We tried for many years to get pregant. When she finally announced that she was carrying a little bundle for us, we both cried. We spend hours watching Call The Midwife (yes I cried at it. Sometimes I cried even harder then Isla) and preparing our little girls room. We decorated it with beautiful images from our beloved books; the great wizard gandalf, the proud Black Beauty, the dark and mysterious Nautilus. We also added adorable little pictures of Winnie the Pooh and his mottly crew. Daisy was born a healthly little girl, a crop of ebony hair atop her scalp. When I first held her, I could help but describe her with all the words I could find. Isla always said I tended to describe things when I was happy.
Our family was perfect, happy, complete. I couldnt be happier. Of course some evil monster had to come ruin it. The monster came in the form of that Dragon; cancer. It swept up my maiden fair, stole her to quick for me to even cry out her name. When she was diagnosed, she told me it would all be ok. A few weeks later she died. Daisy didnt understand. She kept asking 'When will Mama be back?' I had to keep explaining to her that Mama wasnt coming back. It was so very hard on both of us. Daisy was only 4years old.
I couldnt work, not with Daisy to look after. So, with some help from my sister and brother, we moved to America. I was going to work at Bellefonte, the mutant school over there. They said I could bring Daisy to clas if I needed to. It worked. It was so hard to leave our home behind, our memories. But we had to. A fresh start was a good thing.
I think you've heard about my tragic love story, my own little version of Romeo and Juliet, so how about how I work? Often I come in dressed up as historical figures; Christopher Columbus, Albert Einstien, Charles Dickens, Cleopatra. Yes ive been known to come in as a few female every now and again. Ive even come in one or twice as a prince or princess on request on my daughter. I try to make my lessons as enjoyable as possible, putting my power to good use and showing them scenes of ancient battles, or riding down the great nile in a golden boat. I enjoy my job, and I even run little clubs of story telling. Some times I will ready stories to my students at the end of class, mostly The Hobbit or The Lord Of The Rings. The always enjoy seeing the great wizard and the little hobbits before them.
