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[img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/2fef3ab3ebd3bafd1e96c4fa4c023bd7/tumblr_inline_nebw7wMmmk1slk5sm.gif[/img][img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/f2b511e42b3cf9119faeecc2db359d65/tumblr_inline_nebw7z7u471slk5sm.gif[/img]
[color=deepskyblue][b][u]Location:[/u][/b][/color] [b]Thompson Home -> Main Street[/b]
[color=deepskyblue][b][u]Interacting With:[/u][/b][/color] | [b]His family[/b] |
[sub][url=http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=212740045]Cal's Outfit[/url][/sub][/center][hr][hr]

Cal was the first to admit, he hated Thompson Place. It was his childhood home, yes. It was the house where he learned to ride a bike, where he beat his first video game, where he had his first shot, and all the other firsts that growing up generally entails. Never the less, he hated it. The sprawling manor never felt like home to him, most likely due to his grandfather's cruel gaze, which he never seemed able to escape.

Despite Cal's hatred of Thompson Place, he was broke as a joke. Kind of difficult to make any money when you work for a paper on a basically volunteer basis. Cal loved working at the Herald, even if his employment there was just some sort of power struggle between the Thompsons and the Marlowes. However, he did sometimes wish it brought in some cash, just enough for him to move out and get his own place in town. Unfortunately, such a reality was far off, and this being the case, Cal awoke on Sunday morning wrapped up in three different blankets, curled into a ball on his bed in Thompson Place.

He rolled over to look at the clock on his end table and had to blink a few times so his vision could adjust. When the blurryness that generally came with just waking up faded, Cal was able to make out the time. 10:26. Decent time. The night before had been a long one, spent reading a number of different stories, his own attempt to make Andy's workload a little more manageable. Being Deputy Editor of the Herald was exhausting work, but he liked it well enough. He and Andy had found a decent middle ground since his hiring, one where they decided that the rivalry between their families had no business in the world of journalism, and thus they refused to take part. It was pleasant, although sometimes a tad awkward. 

Yawning, Cal rolled out of bed, stretching and swaying a bit as his body adjusted to the sudden change of altitude. He made his way over to his dresser, and pulled on his outfit for the day, a band tee, some pants, and a blue jacket, along with his black converse. Looking in the mirror, he did his best to style his hair, but in the end he figured he would just have to settle for a slightly messy look, which wasn't the worst case scenario for the day, at least not in Cal's mind. Just as he was about to head downstairs, he stopped and smirked. Turning around, he looked at a comb he'd left on his dresser, a useless tool that he'd attempted to use to tame his hair, and furrowed his brow. And slowly but surely, the object began to float in the air, rotating slowly. Finally, Cal dropped it, panting a little bit from the exertion, but thrilled never the less.

Cal's discovery of his powers had been a shock, though that much could be presumed. No one wakes up from a really shitty case of the flu expecting superpowers. Oddly enough, that's what had happened to Cal, and he'd been practicing ever since. The trick with the comb had been much harder three days ago, but he was getting better, noticeably. Part of him found it exciting. The other part found it terrifying.

Padding downstairs, Cal walked into the kitchen, and was met by the voices of his mother and grandmother. [b][color=004962]"Mom, you're acting like Cal moving out is the end of the world,"[/color][/b] his mother said, not yet aware of his presence. [b][color=00ffc0]"Lillian you know just as well as I, a Thompson's place is here. The house is big enough for all of us anyways,"[/color][/b] his grandmother replied. His mom shook her head and mumbled her response, [color=004962][b]"With Dad here, I'm not so sure."[/b][/color] With that, Cal cleared his throat, announcing his presence, earning shocked looks from both women.

[color=deepskyblue][b]"What's this about me moving out?"[/b][/color] Cal asked, raising an eyebrow as he grabbed an apple from a bowl of fruit resting on the kitchen counter. [color=00ffc0][b]"Oh, your mom was just explaining me the merits of you getting a place of your own, with a little help from us. But, like I was telling her, there's no reason. This house has seen generations of Thompsons grow old in it, and I see no reason why you should be any different."[/b][/color] Cal didn't push the issue. His grandmother was a kind woman, but when she was done talking about something, she was done. This was not a topic to be discussed further, at least not now.

The silence that filled the room was soon broken by his mom, getting up and swinging an arm around Cal, and leading him towards the front door. [color=004962][b]"Come on, we've got to go help your grandpa. I guess there was a mishap on Main Street,"[/b][/color] she said, not giving him much of a choice in the matter. He made silent protest with his facial expressions, but it was ignored. The two waved goodbye to Cal's grandmother and hopped into one of the family's many cars, Lillian's black BMW. Sitting in the passenger seat, Cal watched as Riveredge bled into Verona, and soon became Main Street.

Cal got out of the car, parked in front of Thompson's, the family's general store. Dressed in his work clothes, Eli Thompson was in front of the shop, sweeping up piles of glass. He looked up at his grandson and grunted a greeting, one that Cal returned with a small wave. While his mom spoke to Eli, Cal looked around, noting that most of the town was here, sweeping up the mess that was Main Street. What in the hell had happened here?