Catastrophic

Swampy Jopal

A/N: Hi all! I'm sorry I wasn't able to put up the full cast list yet! My laptop decided to be a meanie, and for some odd reason, the screen stays gray and won't do anything. I even tried to plug it in to see if that would work, but nothing! Zero! Zip! Nada!-Sorry for (PARTY ROCKING) rambling! Anywhooooo....
So, I'm doing this on the iPad, which means I can't officially dedicate chapters to someone, and I can't update the cast list AND I'M IN A PREDICAMENT. I don't like that.
Oooooh, just as a sidenote, I have something that has been bothering me of the late. If any of you have read the unbecoming of Mara dyer series, I'm having trouble excepting the ending to the evolution of Mara dyer, and if any of you could shoot me a message about it, I would feel a bit calmer. I'm so distressed I can hardly look at the cover of my retribution of Mara dyer book, and I can't even pick it up if there isn't specific person in that book. That was a long sidenote, but anywhooooo....
I dedicate this to -SuperWhoLocked- because she suggested Jopal. I had to wrangle her neck for clarification on what she wanted, and right now she's walking around with a neck brace. Just kidding! I've known from the start what ship she loved, so I'm not going to stall her anymore. Here's some Jopal Corienne!

Opal's POV
I bolt up in the middle of a dream, startled to be back in this world by the sound. If I could, I would totally live in Dream World, but since I don't think that even exists, I'm left-or should I say stuck-in this dimension. It's not that I don't love the Storm Society and the people here and the things we do and the lives we save, don't get me wrong. This hero stuff is pretty neat, because for once in my life I'm actually something. I want to see the world outside here. I've itched ever since I was born to venture over to the "Wandering Chair," (it has no official name) and travel to Earth. That might sound a bit alienated, as if I come from Mars, but I don't come from another planet. Try a dimension.

I look around the tent I share with my parents, searching for their state as of now. The two of them, deeply in love, are curled up on a cot together somehow. A cot is only supposed to fit one person, but since the two of them are practically on top of one another, they apparently can spare some space for two bodies. I wonder what it is like to be in love. I have felt love before, from my parents, but that's a mutual love that is adapted as soon as I'm born. What I'm talking about is falling in love with someone. I want to fall asleep next to them at night and know all my troubles won't matter when I'm with them. I want to cry on their shoulder until they cheer me up with a sly comment that makes me cry with laughter. I want to look into their eyes and see a better me reflected in their vision, and I want to know for sure that I want to spend the rest of my days with them by my side, because I can think of no better way to live life than to be in love.

I snap out of my trance that lasts a couple of seconds and come back to this world. I remember the scream I heard earlier and wonder why my parents or anyone else didn't wake up. Maybe it was a part of my dream, but regardless, I decide to check it out.

I tiptoe out of my tent with poise that has been refined after years of my mother's etiquette lessons. Once out in the open, I scan the encampment for anyone who's hurt. My eyes don't detect anything out of the ordinary, but my gut does, and soon it's leading me away. I weave in between tents as if I'm on a leash, and my mind doesn't compute where I'm going. It's almost like I've been possessed, and there's someone who wants me to perform a task that I have not consented to. If there's someone in need of help though, I don't care if I'm being possessed or not. That person will receive my help.

After too many minutes of walking through the swamp landscape, I finally stumble across the scene I was looking for, and the "spirit" releases me. It's just my own decisions now, and my first decision is to cower back in fear at the scene. A figure, far off enough that all I can see are silhouettes, has their head bobbing up and down in the swamp water. They look like they can't swim, and are about to drown. Unfortunately, we're in a Floridia-like swamp (yes I've done my research) where there are undesirable animals. Even if I didn't do my research though, I wouldn't be able to mistake the scales that advance through the water towards the drowning person. I snap out of my fear of the alligator enough to gather my senses once more, and I run to the problem.