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Stripped:To Have a Home:Powerless Guardian Comparison

Stripped:To Have a Home:Powerless Guardian Comparison

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So yeah.
So yeah.

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Published by: April BobaAddict Fei on May 06, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Hatsu Yukiya:Me being petty and nitpicky again.I did say it was good for my mental health.
Right, so this story is calledStripped and it takes obvious cues from my story about humanized Jack,To Have a Home, and Boba Addict's story, Powerless Guardian. I'm goingthrough and pointing out the uncredited similarities, just for the lulz and Ihonestly have nothing better to do with my time.
I’m not judging this story based on premise, oh no. There are tons of 
humanized!Jack stories running around, it's nothing new, and mine wascertainly not the first. Humanity by Rand0m Smil3z was, and the next one Iever saw was Powerless Guardian, before I started my THaH. As long asyou can be original with the premise, that's fine.This person is not.Excerpts
from Stripped will be in Bold.
Excerpts from To Have a Home with are Italicized.
Excerpts from Powerless Guardian will be Underlined. Normal writing(my thoughts, comments, etc.) will be in normal text, just like this.
Let’s begin.
"He jumped, and, as his feet left the ledge they were resting on, henoticed something out of the corner of his eye. He literally did adouble take, and had to check what he saw again in a differentwindow. Jack couldn't believe what he saw. And neither could thebrown haired, brown eyed reflection staring back at him."
"With a sigh of relief, he retrieved his staff and leaned on it, using it tosupport his weight. His head dropped down, and in the moonlight, Jack hazily got a look at his reflection in the ice. When he saw it, he gasped sharply and nearly collapsed, shock coursing through his body as hestared down at the image. A boy with brown hair and brown eyes stared back at him." 
 Alright, this one isn't so bad. Naturally with humanized Jack stories he hasto look at his reflection at some point, no biggie. No big concerns here,aside from choice of words.
"Jack didn't know what to do. He just sat on the floor outside Jamie's
house. It was then that he realised the piercing of the cold. He hadn'tnoticed it up until then, having been immortal, and then it was over powered by adrenaline or pain or shock. But now that had all wornoff, and the full effects of a dreadful cold had fully seeped in. Hestarted shivering uncontrollably, and sneezing every so often."
"For the first time, he really felt the cold, and was surprised at thediscomfort." 
 Alright, okay, feeling the cold. That is also fine, makes sense... It's asimilarity, but not a bad one.
"For Jack, the next few hours were just a painful blur. He vaguelyremember some things, like being covered with a blanket, but the restwas just a dark haze. When he came to, he was lying in Jamie's bed.He noticed the mirror across the room, and bolted over to checkwheatear or not the whole thing had just been a horrific dream. Whenhe got there he found that brown haired boy starring back at himagain. He looked into his deep brown eyes, trying to find some shadeof the ice blue they had previously been. But he found no trace of ice, just that warm chocolate brown that he sometimes missed so much.(...) It was then that he noticed his horrible headache. He lay backdown in bed, willing for him to wake up back at his lake or at North'sworkshop and for the whole thing to have just been one big horridnightmare. But, that wasn't going to happen, and Jack knew it."
"The first thing Jack noticed when he began to come to was that it was hot. Almost unbearably so, but not quite, which made no sense becausenormally he was very uncomfortable with any type of heat. Besides how hot it was, there was soreness in his throat, a pounding in his head, and his entire body ached. Definitely the way he wanted to wake up. He waslaying in something soft, something that was too warm to be a snowbank.Where was he? What had happened to make him feel this way?His eyelids were heavy and felt like sandpaper, but he forced them open toget a good look at his surroundings. It was a bedroom that seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't remember when he had been there or where exactly it was. He noted with relief that his staff was leaning against the wall next to the bed he was in. Across from the bed was a bureau witha mirror, and Jack bit back a yell of shock when he caught sight of hisreflection. The memories of the previous night came rushing back and hedropped his head into his hands.
 Agh…" he groaned. "I was hoping it had just been a bad dream…" 
 No such luck, apparently. Jack eased his aching body out of bed and 
made his way over to the mirror for a better look. The reflection staring back at him made his breath stutter in his throat. How long had it beensince he had seen himself with tanned skin, chocolate brown hair and matching eyes? Over three hundred years. He didn't include when he had seen himself in his memories, that didn't count. Jack was so used to hisethereal appearance that this was something completely alien. The personin the mirror didn't look like him.
Fever, waking up in the Bennett house, similar symptoms, thoughtprocess, the mirror...Gosh, we're on a roll.
"Um..." Jack searched his mind for some form of an answer. "Myparents just died. And I have no relatives, so I have no where to go..."He glanced up to see if she was buying his story. She lookedconvinced enough, so Jack decided not to say any more, in case hesaid something suspicious.
"Oh, it's ok. You can stay with us, if you want..." She paused. "Howold are you?" Jack flinched. Don't say 316, don't say 316...
"I'm 16." Jack said. Not too bad, he thought, only 300 years off.
"Oh, I'm sure you could stay here. We have a spare bed room whichyou can sleep in, and I'm sure we can spare enough... Moneys not anissue."
"Thank you. But, are you sure? I feel like I'm intruding..."
"No, it's fine!" Miss Bennett insisted. "Really! I can't send you backinto the cold."
"Thank you, Miss Bennett."
"Really Jack, it's no problem. Now you get some sleep."
Susan eyed him with concern, taking in his thinness, bare feet, and tattered clothes. "Jack, may I ask how old you are?" He coughed awkwardly. This was usually a question he tried to avoid answering when humans asked. In the end, Jack just decided to be ashonest as he could. "Seventeen. Almost eighteen." Plus three hundred years, give or take, but she didn't need to know that.Susan frowned to herself. He was so young, what was he doing on hisown? Sophie sure wasn't kidding when she said the boy looked homeless,and Susan was really starting to suspect that was the case. Time to get into the awkward questions, then. "I'm sorry to bring this up so soon, but I have to ask what you were doing out there on your own. You're a minor, sowhy weren't you at home where you should have been?" (...)Jack took a deep breath and carefully thought out his answer beforereplying, "My parents, they...died a while ago." Alright, so we're good on

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