5. Haze

"Run,' he urged me, shaking my shoulders roughly to the point where I could feel his fingers biting into my skin. "Run and never look back. Otherwise they will get you."

"Who's 'they'?" I asked in confusion, only just noting the desperation in his voice, a lonely note that longed to run to safety but for some reason chose to stay.

Shaking his head, he started taking me on the path that I was supposed to stick to for the next two weeks or so. "Don't you worry. Just run, okay? It's something dangerous."

"Then you should come with me."

"Loyalty is an admired quality," he winked at me, making me laugh. "Oh hush, just go. Make sure you remain safe - I'll see you in a week or so."

And as I turned away, I touched my face feeling the wetness that lay upon it. I knew I wasn't going to see him. He wasn't going to survive this conflict; no one would. Which was why the village was so adamant on sending away the children and the women who didn't want to fight. They let the men who couldn't physically fight anymore come along too. I was urged to go first, paving the path for the others to make their way through.

And before I fully turned away, I whirled around and threw myself at him, burying my face into his neck. My fiancé. Who I'd never ever get to marry. No children. No grandchildren. I was going to lose my love.

"I can't leave without you," I sobbed, ignoring all the staring people around me. As future wife of the chief, I had a responsibility to be a role model for the rest of the village but I couldn't do it. I couldn't hope up that wall, and realise that I would never see him again. I wouldn't do that. I'd die with him or he'd have to come with me. Easy.

"You have to go," he chided gently but tersely. "You know that they won't survive without you. You can't stay back, you need to go with them and help them. I love you, alright? I love you so much. And I need to know that you're going to be safe and so will the others."
I shook my head fiercely, refusing to let him go. Tears flung in all directions as I despaired of a life without him. He was my soul mate and we'd already gone through so much to get to this point; we'd never be able to continue it. Fate seemed against us.

He lowered his head to my ear. "Responsibility, lovely. Please. I'm begging of you. Please go."

Suddenly anger flushed through me. He was so quick to let me go, and now he was practically wanting to throw me that way himself. My face went red, and as I struggled to keep a hold over my emotions, I realised that I could hear the march of an approaching enemy.

Oh. That was why he was attempting to hasten me on. They were already here, about to invade.

I kissed him then, a kiss of passion and sadness. Before going, I turned back, "I'll come back for you."

His face contorted into a grotesque expression. "Please don't. Now go. Hurry. Don't look back."

Nodding, I ran to my horse, lifting myself up easily on its bare back. "Let's go,' I barked to the group of people that had surrounded me. "We've got to get to safety. Now, the chief has given us this campsite to go to but in case something happens, the enemy might find that out. I suggest that we leave small clues for any of the survivors and that we head to a different area."

A clamouring of shouts invigorated my ears and as I took them all as an approval, I smiled satisfied, starting to lead the people to the boundaries of the land, where the water lapped gently against the coast and the white froth blessed the calm blue waters.

And then we started riding. And oh did we ride hard. When the first sounds of the struggle came through, I tensed, looking in the area that we had just emerged from. I swiftly instructed everyone to attempt to go faster although I knew that for some, that would be difficult. We needed to do that though. Or our chances of survival were nil. We rode hard and each day, the screams and yelps got significantly larger but softer, considering that we were moving away but that more men and women were now engaged in battle.

Children whimpered daily, wishing for their mothers; as most women had vouched to fight and die alongside their spouses. To them, I showed my pure love. I showed them through a series of ways, none of which I can reveal, each of their mothers individually. I took care of them when the older populace in my group started to complain and thrust them away.

But then one day, I heard it. The ill-fated screech of my fiancé. I whirled my horse around, surprised that I could hear it over everything else, even though by nature, he wasn't a loud man.

"Go,' a woman urged me. "Only a wife can help her husband at this point. I know what you heard. Good luck, child. I'll take care of them. You know that. I'll lead them to safety."

"Responsibility…"  I trailed realising how repetitive I sounded,
"Go," she encouraged and those were the last words I needed to hear as I spun my horse around, sending them catapulting towards the  clearing where the villagers resided. What had taken us five days to travel, took two hours for me, not stopping and not thinking. Occasionally, I'd hear my fiancé yell out over and over again, and that made me harden my pace. Luckily, my horse understood; not complaining and staying resistant although I was wearing the poor creature out thin.

Finally bursting out into the clearing, I saw my fiancé on the floor, writhing in pain as if multiple amounts of creatures were eating him from the inside. "Honey?!"

He looked at me with alarm. "Go! They'll be back soon, go!"

Tears filled my eyes and I fell to his side, my whole body crumpling to fit his as I silently  broke out into tears. "I'm staying with you this time. I love you."

Hello. It's not too good considering I'm exhausted but I still have to do my German assessment. My priorities are in the wrong order, dear me.
Oh well. Hope you somewhat like it.

Allons-y!

4. Snowflake

Once upon a time, I thought that love was a myth. I believed that love didn't exist; it was simply a form of infatuation. Of course, when that is spoken of, it has to be taken into consideration that I was speaking of romantic love. The type that you read in books which make you sob endlessly, and shiver with the intense feelings of the emotions the characters possessed for each other.

A cynic. That was me. What else did you expect? I'm not gorgeous. I don’t have a good charisma. People don't feel the urge to talk to me. One thing that I could claim for myself though was the fact that I was intelligent. I worked hard for it, I refused to partake in the lingo that everyone else would use. I was slightly secretive, slightly snobbish. I didn't look down at these people, oh no, I felt inferior to them.

I didn't belong anywhere. Even surrounded with people that somewhat expressed the fact they were like me, I never felt like I deserved to be there. My emotions were either too strong, or not strong enough. I yearned for more. I wanted so much more. I wanted to be famous, not in the way that actresses or singers were; just a well known name in the world - someone who'd contributed to the world. I wasn't brilliant enough for that, unfortunately.

'My special little snowflake,' my mother used to call me, smiling, her eyes lighting up whenever I entered the room. She was the only person in the world who made me feel like I could be anyone I wanted to. She didn't judge me, and when she did - it was for my own good.

Now I was half a world away from her, in a university full of people who chattered to fill the deafening silence that would otherwise fill the large halls. I missed her so much, God, my heart twisted thinking through that process.

Other people had expectations of me, my mother, the dear old lass, she wanted me to be happy in the end. I'd pour my heart out to her and at the end she'd smile tiredly before offering me the advice which I so keenly thirsted for.

"Lovely, come on,' my roommate called out in frustration. 'You're taking far too long.'

"I told you that I'm not coming," I replied tersely, just wishing for home at this point.

"No," she told me, persisting stubbornly, "You're not even dressed!"

I looked at her dryly, starting to get peeved off when she dragged me off the bed and into the bathroom. She did things to me that were only mere dreams to me and when she finally revealed my reflection, my reaction was nothing but utter boredom.

"Girl, you look hot!" She exclaimed, slamming a pair of killer shoes in front of me. "Now, get a smile on that sullen face of yours and get with the boys."

I huffed, going along with her, wobbling precariously in the shoes before grabbing her shoulder as a final judgement. As reluctant as I was to go, I knew that I had to start exposing myself to society. Who knows, maybe I'd even find that one person who I could unload all my shit on. I thought that every single time I've gone out and it's never done anything for me.

I'm not someone that anyone could care for. No personality, nothing. I can't hold a conversation to save my life. I end up stammering and not being able to talk. And when it came to men? I was even worse.

"Drinks?" she offered me.

Giving her a look, I settled myself comfortably into the couch, watching the raving people in there dancing and laughing and just having a very generally good time in their life.

And I just sat there, observing. I watched an old man sneak in with a camera snapping candid shots of the giggling members on the dance floor. I saw my roommate getting taken up to a room by a smirking young man who appeared to be taking advantage of my ditzy acquaintance. Hope she turned out alright, I guess.

"And what might you be doing here?" A voice, smooth and rough, asked me.

"Staying away from people like you." I turned my head away, wishing that he'd sit next to me, put his arm around me and just ask me about how I was feeling. Why I was feeling it.

Of course that didn't happen. He furrowed his eyebrows, storming away and as I watched him make his way to another hot blonde, another man yelled out to him. He stopped abruptly, digging into his back pocket and bringing out his wallet before removing a large number of notes that he then deposited in the other man's hands.

Huh. So I was a bet, then. See if you can get the little loner by the corner. And then ditch her for someone who is so much more better than her. Who was so much more funnier. Who was receptive towards their advances.

One day. One day I was going to find someone who appreciated me for who I was. For what I was going to be. For what I had been.

Inspired by me. And The Perks To Being A Wallflower. Understandable that it is a bit crude but that's the point. Feel the emotions, I teared up whilst writing it which is stupid so I shouldn't have told you that.

Oh well.

Allons-y!

Day Four: Snowflake (28th of July)

There was something tragically beautiful about abandoned carnivals.

Something that seemed to reel you in and ensnare your very interest.

Something terrifyingly enchanted.

Being left behind can cause massive emotional turmoil to a simple human- so imagine how it would affect a carnival, neglected by eager newcomers.

Farah Sterling was one of those eager newcomers.

She was curious though, about the deserted carnival, and managed to look at her scout leader directly in the eye as she fibbed about how she would absolutely die if she didn’t visit the restrooms this very second.

The leader tutted and shook his head, informing her of the dangers of being alone in the countryside. No- no, that wouldn’t do at all.

Farah grabbed hold of the edge of his shirt and looked at him pleadingly, green eyes sparkling with threatening tears. The scout leader sighed, knowing that he simply could not refuse. However, he wasn’t going to let a mere twelve-year-old girl prance around the moors all by herself, so he instructed a buddy to accompany her to search for the nearest toiletry and that they should be back as soon as they can.

The rain was frightening as it lashed against the window of the café they were finding refugee in, causing his assigned troops to fidget with restlessness.

“When are we going back to the hotel?” they complained.

“How is this a café if they don’t ‘ave any food!”

“This place smells like my dad!”

Frank, the scout leader, pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to relax.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be out of here in no time! We’re just waiting for Luke and Farah,” he said, smiling falsely. He looked at his partner, Kimberly, panicked expression plastered on his face. Are they back yet?

She peered at the chattering crowd before her, then shook her head. Nope.

Frank pointed at the watch on his wrist. It’s been two hours.

Kimberly shrugged helplessly and resumed watching the windows (which wasn’t very helpful due to all the rain) for signs of the children’s return.

***

“Farah, what are you doing?”

Farah was picking stubbornly at a lock for quite some time now, ignoring Luke’s frowns and worrying questions.

“It-won’t-open,” she hissed, shaking the bars of the gates.

Luke sighed for what seemed to be the thousandth time that night and huddled closer to her; it was freezing out here, he thought.

“Maybe it’s fate. Maybe we’re not supposed to be looking for a bathroom... in an abandoned carnival,” he mumbled the last part to himself, staring sadly at his once bright blue trainers-  they were soaking wet now, and he couldn’t feel his toes.

Farah huffed in annoyance and glanced at her ‘buddy’. “Why’d you come if you’re so uncomfortable in the first place?” Luke was about to answer but she cut him off. “Just go back. I’ll be fine. Really.”

Luke raised a questioning eyebrow. “Scout leader Frank told me to come with you. I’m your buddy, and buddies stick together.”

He gazed longingly out in the distance, trying to spot the rickety wooden café from between the thickets of pine trees.

“I don’t care about the stupid scout leader, I just-” she shook the bars of the gate again, “-want to go in there,” she said, pointing at the ferris wheel.

Luke gave her a quizzical look. “Why? This place is a dump- that’s what it is.”

Farah pulled a face. “No it isn’t. It’s a carnival. And carnivals are fun. I-want-to-have-fun. I mean, we won’t even leave this place until the rain stops,” she replied, glancing up at the sky, which was still grey and angry.

Luke touched Farah’s arm and made sure she was looking at him. Hazel met green and he said softly, “Come on, Farah, we’ve been here for an hour. Let’s go?”

Farah rolled her eyes, and shook Luke’s hand off her shoulder. “Fine. Whatever.”

They trudged along the slippery street, and Farah was forced to hold Luke’s hand in fear of slipping down the slope. She turned around and gazed at the Farris wheel, whimsical in its rusty way. She was about to walk away when something caught her eye.

“Luke- Luke! I found it! I found an entrance!”

Luke whipped his head and Farah could see his fingers curl into a fist. “I don’t want to go in!” he whined, stamping his foot, which caused him to trip on his own shoelaces and plummet awkwardly on the floor (an occurrence Luke would later swear hadn't happened). 

Farah smirked at the sight and ran towards the fences, feeling that lady luck favored her desires after all.

Luke mumbled in frustration and scratched his head. How is she doing that? How isn’t she falling?

He managed to get up (pitifully, mind you) and walked slowly over to where Farah was crouching. He finally got a good look at what she’d been talking about. The fences here were roughly snipped, pointy edges maliciously waiting for its next victim. The grass poked out from under the cement, budding flowers a blooming.

Farah was hunched down, legs visible only. She seemed to be in some sort of.. cat flap? A dog enterance? Luke wondered.

He coughed, trying to make his presence acknowledged. “I’m here.”

“Luke- this place.. it’s so cool,” she echoed, her voice ringing. Maybe it was a laundry shoot?

“What are you doing?”

Farah tucked in her legs and she was gone completely.

Minutes ticked by, and Farah wasn't out yet. Luke groaned in vexation. 

“Farah?” His voice reeked of panic.

Farah’s head popped out from the flap (or chute- whatever it was) and she flashed him a million watt smile. She was dripping wet. “Come on in, Luke, the water’s fine.”

“Farah...? Why are you wet?”

She tucked in a strand of wet hair neatly behind an ear and held out her hand.

“This place... I think it was like an ice cave or something.”

“This is a recreational building,” he pointed out, arms crossed, pout perfectly worn. She ignored him, beckoning him to come closer. “Luke. Look at my hand.” Luke finally took notice of her hand, his mouth forming an ‘O’.

“Is that a snowflake?”

- left-foot-fowl

Um. 


I don't know. 


My fingers wrote and wrote and wrote and my brain went blank. I don't even know. Honestly, I don't. I'm sorry you had to read that. 

3. Restless

Have you ever thought about your nightmares? The screaming horrors of the night that leaves a person standing up, stiffly straight with beads of sweat framing their face. The grotesque creatures that haunt our dreams; the vivid imagery that then prevents us from sleeping, making us jump out at every shadow that moves.

Elsie's head nodded off, before she jerked up again, sliding her back against rough texture of the tree to rest her head tiredly upon her knees. Raising her head after a few minutes, she peeked around to look at the large creature that resembled a tattered dragon grazing on her mother's petunias. Shit. Her mother was not going to be particularly pleased. Although Elsie had often fought bravely against these creatures in her dreams, she realised that it must honestly be harder to so in reality.

The look in his eyes were hard, as if he'd seen so much that he wouldn't even hesitate to dismember her if she did as much as disturbed him.

She had been woken up by an irritating growl at one in the morning and in annoyance, she swatted her arms in the general direction of the source, hitting something scaly. Her senses grew alert as she heard a warning snarl before the creature swung its tail at her at a ferocious speed. Following her instincts, she rolled off the bed landing awkwardly on the floor and moaning in pain. She'd landed on her elbow, causing the pain to stretch through her body to the very top of her spine. The dragon, satisfied that the creature that attacked him had disappeared from view, ducked out of her room, smashing its head multiple times against the low windows.

And she'd followed it which had been a bad mistake but swearing that she'd seen it before in her dreams, she went after it, hiding behind a tree to observe the creature lazing around in her backyard.

Taking a deep breath, she crept up behind him armed with an array of objects; pencils, books and a spade. As soon as she stepped forward however, a leaf crackled alerting the mythological being to her presence. He turned, glaring at her and identifying her as his assailant who had tried to kill him as soon as he had escaped her mind.

She held her hands up, her weapons clattering to the harmlessly. Extending a leg hesitantly, she swept them away behind her, hearing the clattering of the pencil as they continued rolling. The spade took a bit more effort but the dragon stood there, unblinking and patient - eyes softening to show the span of his life.

"I'm Elsie." she spoke slowly and clearly. "I - er - you woke me up. I am sorry for apologising to you but may I ask you a question?"

He looked back at her, regarding her unflinchingly.
"I dream of you." She blurted out, feeling foolish. "I fight you in my dreams and I vanquish you. All the time."

'That's because you're in a dream, you human. If we were to battle now, I'd win with my wings tied and my eyes closed. And a meal in the end, too.'

She paled, the blood rushing out of her face as she scanned the creature. "Did you just talk to me?"

'Telepathic abilities.' The dragon snorted, a warm gust of air shuddering through the vegetation. 'Stop being a fool, girl.'

She attempted to stammer out a reply, but she then closed her mouth audibly. "How did you come from my mind?"

'I escaped. You've imprisoned me for far too long and I sensed that something was wrong with your world. I'm here to resolve this issue. If you attempt to stop me, I will have no choice but to kill you.'

"Escaped from my mind?" She asked unbelievingly.
He nodded, rolling his eyes and turning away, obviously dismissing her shivering figure.

"And what's wrong with my world?"

'What do you think?' He asked sarcastically. 'Just look at it. You can't see the stars glistening anymore, not as bright as they used to be. The moon's almost fading away as well. Soon enough you idiotic beings will be able to block out the sun, killing yourselves and the millions of species that depend on you for their survival.'
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this rude?"

'I tell you about the impending doom of this world and you only bother to correct my mannerism. How typically...human.'

"I am human, I hope you realise."

'Exactly. And there isn't any capacity within those puny brains of yours to understand what is going on. You've been seeing more of us these past few days, Elsie but you've dismissed them as shadows. How boring it must be to be human. How dull. How do you survive not being fantastic?'

"You - er - the dr- dragons?! Wait a second, so you're saying that you've purposely come out in front of me. That's what I'm inferring about your speech at least." Elsie huffed indignantly, refusing to answer his insult with another in kind.

'We need you, unfortunately. You and a select few others. You'll be riding these creatures into the atmosphere in an attempt to rid this world of the pollution that you idiots have caused.' The dragon scowled impertinently, looking up into the sky. 'Here they come now. Make your decision, human. If you're with us - you'll always be safe but if you're not, there is a big chance that you may die. Like a human does.'

"How old are you?" she interjected anxiously, indeed discovering the flying creatures in the night air.

'None of your business. Are you in?'

She looked at her house helplessly, thinking about her warm bed that beckoned to her with tendrils of urge and desire. Scrunching her nose, she made a choice that would change her life forever.

"I refuse to come."

The dragon bowed his head regally, making sure of eye contact. 'Your wishes, as per usual. Selfish as usual.'

"Shut up." She shook her head at the dragon. "You don't know anything; just be quiet."

'Only for her majesty,' were the last few words she picked up before the dragon was gone with a whoosh of his wings. The air battled her hair around, refusing her the right to see in what direction she was headed in. By the time, she was able to see properly again, the dragon was no longer there.

Her stupid nightmares were the cause of all this. Damn it all.

Hope it's all right. Thanks for reading.
Allons-y!

Day Three: Restless (27th of July)

Today, Violet felt very sad.

Her sadness made her feel even sadder, because she knew she wasn't supposed to be sad on Christmas. It wasn't really anybody's fault she was sad. She just was. Her family had not impacted her life greatly, and she had no companion to keep her company, save a grouchy eight-year-old husky whose ferociousness matched somewhat of a teacup terrier’s. 

Violet thought about this as she stared at the crackling fire, gripping her mug of hot cocoa for warmth. The wandering winking out flames of the fire kept her in a pensive mood that Christmas Eve.

Why would they ever stray away from the hearth of the fire?

Why venture out into the cold unknown and shy away from others who might have even cared? 

Why act like me, she thought almost bitterly. 

Violet bought the mug close to her lips and sipped the chocolate slowly-

Crash! Her face twisted in pain as she looked at the mess she's made.  

Now she was feeling even more miserable than ever and was about to bury her face in her pillow when something happened. 

A man, an eccentric looking young man swung the door open wildly and then slammed it, panting heavily.

He pocketed something that looked like a pen with a glowing green light on one tip within his tweed jacket and wiped his hands on his trousers.

The man finally took interest to his surroundings and marched straight towards Violet, whose eyes doubled in size at that very moment. 

"That. That thing. You've broken a thing. A mug! A mug of," he sniffed the air freely, "A mug of hot chocolate! Oh I do love chocolate- but no, I couldn't have some- I do get quite gassy when it comes to hot chocolate... yes." The man smiled wide at Violent, whose eyes were now triple the size they were three minutes ago. 

"Hello Katy! I'm the Do-"

"My name isn't Katy," said Violet sardonically, her eyes never straying away from the strange man.

"Yes- yes of course it isn't because it's Jessica!"

Violet shook her head.

"Good. I was only testing you and you passed, Mandy!"

"It's-It's Violet," she said, "What are you doing in my dorm?"

"Violet ... ?"

"Violet Stormhold."

The man tilted his head to the side and nodded slowly.

"Yes... What a beautiful name ... Like in a fairy tale ... Violet Stormhold."

Violet pointed at the squashy couch and said, "You can sit down-"

The man shook his head politely before gesturing the room around him. "Today is Christmas Eve, am I correct? I usually am but sometimes I do get dates wrong and not right. But not wrong right no ... right?"

Violet looked at the man strangely before nodding slowly.

There's a crazy man in my room. Just get to the phone slowly and dial nine-one-one...

The man smiled sadly at her before saying, "No one should be alone on Christmas Eve, not even you, Violet Stormhold. Come with me."

Violet's eyebrows shot up and hid beneath her dark bangs. "Come with you? Where? You're barking mad. Get out of my dorm!"

The man tutted and shook his head eagerly. "I can take you anywhere you'd like to go. I can show you wonders you'd never have even thought of dreaming of. I can-"

There was a sudden bang-bang-bang against the door and the man looked at her pleadingly. "Hurry! If you want to have the best Christmas Eve then come with me right this second. I can show you adventure, treasure and whatever you'd like. No one should be alone on Christmas Eve!"

The rasping on the door grew louder with each bang and for the first time, Violet felt afraid... yet oddly excited at the same time. 

The door's hinges were about to explode and the man suddenly grabbed Violet's hand before saying, "If you want to have the best Christmas Eve, then come with me-"

"Alright-alright! I'm coming!" said Violet, who felt everything at once, everything except loneliness. The sadness seemed to be going away now.

The strange man laughed victoriously before opening the window latches. The wind barged in the room and whistled in Violet's ears merrily, whipping her dark straight hair wildly. 

"What the hell are you doing!" she screamed over the wind.

The man whirled around and smiled from ear to ear. "Saving you of course!"

"Saving me from what?"

Violet was suddenly jerked out of the way when a huge hairy beast entered her room and growled low and dangerous. It then hurdled itself onto Violet’s bathroom and started howling madly.

"From that! Come on then Stromhold! Just hold on!"

Violet's eyes were tearing from the lashing wind. She held the man's arms securely and looked behind her. The beast was almost upon them now. 

Butter!

Violet hurriedly ran back to her husky, Butter, carried him with forced effort, and grabbed the man's hand one more time.

"You didn't tell me your name!" she yelled, fear suddenly gnawing at her insides. 

"It's the Doctor!" he said, before jumping out of the window, with Violet and the husky following closely behind. 

- left-foot-fowl

Day Two: Accusation (26th of July)

The night was painted a startling black, with only a handful of stars to decorate it. Each twinkled brilliantly, as if wanting to capture your attention, waiting to be gazed at with awe and wonder. Everyone in the ballroom abandoned the string quartet playing beautifully inside and clutched at their dates, escorting them outside to see the magnificence that is the sky...

... Everyone- that is to say- everyone except one miserable Myles Fowl.

It started out perfectly. Everything was in place- as was planned, of course. Myles effortlessly dodged elementary blunders (including the blunder with his mother who seemed to badger him to absolute no end about his ‘special guest’), made sure of the banquet once, twice, three times, and has secured every seat on every table for the night.

His father was to be impressed (as was his older brother, Artemis), and really, nothing could go wrong. 

Absolutely nothing.

And then he met Emily Leila Faucet, and that was the end of all things simple.

***

-one day earlier-

“You’re kidding, Beck. Really funny. You should be a comedian, you know that? Really- this is hilarious.”

Beckett sighed and looked warily at Emily, who was shaking her head whilst reorganizing the science fiction section in her family’s bookstore.

He took a deep breath, and promised himself he wouldn’t shriek like a misunderstood teenage girl. He smiled painfully before saying, “No, Emily, I’m not bloody joking. Would you just think about it?” he forced her chin up so they were eye to eye, “Please?”

Emily smacked his hand away before looking squarely at the ground. “But Myles...” she said, trailing off.

“But Myles my bloody arse,” Beckett winced at the picture, “He is one helluva guy and you should give him his bloody chance. Be his date. Just give this to him... Please?”

Emily gave him a small smile. “You keep saying bloody,” she pointed out, playing with her fingers.

Beckett groaned, running a hand through his curls. “Stop changing the subject! It’s only a matter of time before he comes around and asks you himself, and really if one thing goes wrong -look at me, Emily, Jesus you’re annoying- if one thing goes wrong, my brother will put on the crazy white jacket himself and ask me to drive him to the mental institute.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s a bit too dramatic, don’t you think?”

Beckett was going to strangle her. “You’re- just-” he let out a noise of frustration, “I mean- why would 

he even want to ask you? You’re so bloody irritating!”

Emily narrowed her eyes, and Beckett might have even heard her growl.

He gulped.

“I didn’t mean that, my eccentric friend, really, but-”

Emily put down a copy of Ender’s Game and waved her hand to silence the deranged boy in front of her. “Listen, Beckett, Myles might not be the complete arse I thought he was. At times- at times he could even be tolerable,” she said finally, shrugging.

“But when he isn’t tolerable- I just- I just go completely mental. I can’t control myself around him and I don’t want to mess up anyone’s night tomorrow. We’re just- I just can’t see myself doing this for him.”

Beckett dropped his copy of The Order Of The Phoenix, ignored Emily’s startled yelp, and stomped off till he reached the front door. He looked at her with disappointed eyes.

“You can’t just accuse him of being an ass. You don’t even know the guy, let alone call him names.” He sighed the third time that afternoon. "Thank you for your time," he muttered, before slipping past the door and out of Faucet’s Bookstore.

Emily didn’t say anything, but straightened the large crease on the dropped book.

She managed to organize the section she’d been working on and then completely reorganize the autobiography rack, noticing that the books weren’t assembled in alphabetical order.

She didn’t, however, notice the flash of navy silk quickly departing the store, invitation falling silently on the ground.

***

Beckett couldn’t help  readjust his tie for the umpteenth time that night. He didn’t like suits. He didn’t feel comfortable in suits.

He hated suits.

How in the world did Myles and Artemis manage to put up with the damn monkey suit every day, he did not know.

Beckett finally managed to spot Myles in the sea of endless faces. Instead of sporting the usual navy pinstriped Armani suit, his brother was dressed in a traditional black and white tux, bowtie replacing his standard maroon tie. Beckett raced towards his brother, an old habit of his, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Myles gave him a dry smile, dainty champagne glass in hand. “Hello, Beckett, what brings you here?”

Beckett smiled. “I haven’t lost you all night. I am an amazing body guard, if I do say so myself.”

Myles shrugged and took a sip off his glass, but then twisted his face and forced down the drink (the alternative being much messier).

Beckett laughed, rubbing his twin's back. “Really, Myles, if you don’t like it then don’t drink the damned drink.”

Myles sighed, exasperated, before pulling a face. “Don’t drink the damned drink,” he mimicked, which was very un-Myles like. Beckett raised a singular blonde eyebrow. “Someone’s a bit cranky.”

Myles faced the floor. “I'm sorry, Beck. This evening isn’t going exactly as I have planned,” he mumbled before placing the full glass of champagne on a passing tray. He adjusted his bowtie and peered through the crowd (a habit Myles developed that night) before slumping once again in dissatisfaction (another very un-Myles trait).

He gave a low chuckle, sounding suspiciously rueful. "I know she isn't planning on coming, but I can't help but look for her... she'll never be here."

Beckett put his arm around his brother before suddenly dropping it, grinning.

“Ah... Myles... except she is.”

- left-foot-fowl

_____________________________

So.. how'd you like it, sweetums? Tell me if Myles is too ooc. I hate it when I do that. And did the conversation flow or seem natural? Myles is seriously hard to write, one of the many reasons I love him. 

RAINBOWS RULE. 

LOL, 

That girl who is strange and falls for fictional characters way too often. 

2. Accusation

It was a pleasant sunny day. Rainbows filled the sky in an unnatural manner, arcing through the sky and Kit looked at it, an undecipherable expression clear on her face. Something was wrong. The ominous atmosphere weighted the air down, and she just knew, like one does, that he was coming.

The Fish.

Rolling her eyes at the simply deceiving title of her opponent, she slumped against the wall, sliding down until she was sitting, her knees nestling her chin as she wrapped her arms around her legs. Her eyes flickered shut, and small snort escaped her mouth. Kit had fallen asleep.

"Awaken thyself, mere mortal!" A voice thundered over her, and suddenly she scrambled up to stare at the talking rainbow that was clearly facing her, although a distinctive face was not seen.

"What?" she complained in annoyance. "Can't you leave me alone to recover my strength so that I may battle the Fish?"

"I am the Fish." he replied, his voice roaring, deafening the poor girl who stood up with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah - no." She scoffed. "The Fish is far more magnificent than you are."

"How dare you be so impetuous?" The rainbow flashed brightly before fading dismally. "Are you accusing me of … not being the all-powerful God?"

She nodded in confirmation. "Pretty much."

The rainbow dimmed, almost being invisible as sadness exuded from it. "I was always under the impression that I was the supreme master of mass murder."

"You can't do much of that as a rainbow." Kit pointed out warily. "Have you actually hurt anyone?"

The rainbow quivered, exhaling a large cloud of sparkles. "Who is the Fish?"

"A rumoured criminal. He's supposed to have killed the entire population of Africa which doesn't appear to be true because I checked in the other day. So really, he just appears to be an avid liar."

"So he's not actually evil?"

"Not really." she shrugged, laughing. "I'm just here to scope him out. I'd gathered that he would resemble a fish but perhaps he looks more like a rainbow."

"So I am the Fish." The rainbow snorted derisively, brightening up.


"You haven't killed anyone." Kit reminded him patiently. "You're just a liar, and a bad one at that."

"I am amazing." It boomed. "I am the master of all."

Kit rolled her eyes, and with a growl of frustration fell back before closing her eyes again. "I'm going to sleep."

It nudged her, whining with a sense of sudden clarity. "You're scared, aren't you?"

"And how did you come up with that?"

"I - er - you see. It is futile to argue with me. I shall always be victorious." The rainbow started to dissipate following the other rainbows but then with a heavy groan, brought itself back to full glory.

Kit clapped dramatically. "Good job." Mumbling under her breath, she stretched, standing up to witness the significant takeover of the rainbows. "What have you done?"

"You think all those rainbows were just an ornament?" it sneered, the colours within its bright arc dying out to form an ominous black. "Kit, your world is in big trouble. I have amassed all the rainbows to destroy your world."

She blinked at him before turning her head away to look at the sight beneath her. The rainbows were all futilely attempting to bat away a group of children who were laughing at them playfully, and dumping bucket loads of water on them. As each one started to fizzle out, Kit nodded at the rainbow, also now known as the Fish. "They're doing pretty well. Want to see?"

Er. You've only got left-foot-fowl to blame for this. There is a reason why I don't write such things.
Gah, it's ridiculous and it's 601 words because I just decided that it was a miserable piece of work.
I'm not having a very good start to this drabble... I'm going to have to step up my game.

Allons-y!