Azzie's NTWFian OCtober things!I decided I'd compile all my OCtober writing concerning NTWFverse characters (and also ones used in NTWF RPs.) I'll also include the ones I didn't post during OCtober but did write then, and in one case, a thing I wrote years ago for school but never posted here and then made one of my OCtobers a sequel to. Mostly I want to have a record of all of these, but if you're reading, I hope you enjoy. ♥
As a general warning, anything for Wrighton will have spoilers in it, so avoid those if you don't want spoilers!
Day 2: Fashions (Wrightonverse, Atif and Jamil) "Dad, I'm telling you, you can't wear that sweater into space."
Jamil Khouri crossed his arms and glared at his son. "I told you, it's my favourite. I'm not leaving without it."
"You don't have to!" Atif protested. "Just don't wear it on the first day. Please."
"Come on, why not?" Jamil asked. "It's gonna be cold up there."
"Dad." Atif sighed. "They're going to take pictures before the ship goes up. For the paper. People are going to be dressed nice."
At this, Jamil burst out laughing. "Is that what it is? You don't want me embarrassing you? Atif, the only people who even read that paper are from town. Everyone's seen this sweater already anyway."
"They have," Atif paused. "In the last picture. The one half the town was in?"
Jamil grinned slyly. "Is that all? Well, I suppose I could dig out that satin broccoli shirt I bought, nobody's seen that yet..."
"Dad!"
Day 3: Habitat (NTWF, Shadow)When Shadow was a young teenager and first found himself in a safer place, he was sure that safety was all that mattered. It was such a new feeling that it took him a while to accept- but once he finally stopped feeling afraid all the time, he realized that he would do anything to keep from feeling that way again. He swore to protect, protect his new home and his freedom and the ones he loved. He even became a squire, before all that nasty business with the undead had more or less disbanded the Knights’ Guild.
That was when he’d first had more time to think. To allow that there might be more to life than the defensive. He moved around, he made more friends. It was enough. Nothing was
his but it didn’t matter, because he was
living and that was all he needed.
Then he met Angela.
Shadow was smitten almost instantly. Angela was sweet, calm, and nearly as shy as he was. They were fast friends, and they even worked up the nerve to ask each other out at the same time. It was young love, and he had never been happier.
Except for one thing.
At first glance, Shadow looked like a completely ordinary weewoo. That was how he had been when they met, after all. But Shadow had been born into two worlds at once. And when he first fell for Angela, he had decided- been sure- that he could choose. That she, that
love, was worth being perfectly ordinary forever. And it
was worth it!
The problem was that it was’t
true, and Shadow was beginning to feel sick with the weight of it.
In the end, he broke it off. Broke it off and then told her the truth- ‘hey, by the way, I’m half-human and have been too afraid to tell you this whole time.’ She took it, if not well, at least not horribly. She was furious- but not for the reason Shadow expected.
She blasted him for trying to suppress something so important.
In retrospect, Shadow thought, he should have expected it. In a place where a moose was a lawyer and the moon had blown up at least twice, a shapeshifting magical hybrid was probably not the bombshell revelation he’d thought it would be. But her reaction did get him thinking.
Shadow- looked inward, found things about himself that he had hidden so well even he didn’t know they were there. And he realized that even if he had all he needed, he was allowed to want things too. And he wanted something of his very own. So he set to work.
~~~~~
Two years later, Shadow had finally finished. When he was very young, he had tumbled into a place that he could live, where he could be safe and happy. And now, nine years later, he had finally made it into a home of his own.
(Please ignore me and Kabuki in there; I couldn't get a good photo of Shadow's house unless I stood there.)
When Ben Hale turned eight years old, he got something he'd always wanted.
Perhaps not always; there must have been a time when he was too young to remember. But as long as he could remember he had Gramma Spencer's stories. She always told him about the big city, about the parties, about the friendly spirit who liked to chat with her. And Ben knew her stories were true; she'd told him one day, when he caught her coming back through a strange, glowing device.
The same device that now sat on the table, in front of his mother, father and grandma.
"Ben, honey, promise me you'll listen to your grandma while you're over there, all right?" His mom looked concerned.
"Don't touch anything funny!" warned his dad.
"For heaven's sake, it's just a library." Gramma smiled at Ben. "Happy birthday. Are you ready?"
Ben stared at his parents. "You knew?"
"There was no way I was taking you anywhere without their okay," Gramma answered. "It's just a workday, but I thought you might like to see our collection of frog books-"
But she was cut off, because Ben had tackled her in a hug.
Day 8: Comfort (NTWF/Tacoverse and Wrightonverse, self indulgent AU) This is a sequel of sorts to "Nosy Librarian Tries to Keep Up with the News" which ended up turning into this AU thing. First spoiler is the OCtober story, second spoiler is a thing I wrote on a whim a while back that would probably take place sometime afterwards. Neither is finished, but they belong here anyway. Also as a note, Scip is Fraze's and Sammy is Vapor's. Which if you're reading this you probably know, but. Just to be clear!
It was a couple weeks after the Wrightonians recovered their memories that they became aware their radio station signal was being piggybacked upon by another universe, but there wasn't much room to worry about it at the time. People were still adjusting, and making decisions, and the crew were working on getting the RETON ready to go again. It was during these preparations that they discovered it, in fact; during a test of the radios Scip offhandedly mentioned, 'By the way, a signal from a different world is tuned into this area's local radio. It should be fairly easy to pinpoint, if you like.'
He pinpointed it, and then- as the location didn't match any particularly well known interstellar danger zones- it was deemed not a priority, and the crew decided they'd look into it when they had time.
"It is possible it's being broadcast by accident," Scip explained later, once they were flying. "This world has something of a reputation for attracting stray beings and information, like a magnet."
"We weren't there before."
"It was not there last time."
The RETON had originally been founded by a group of free spirits, had inadvertently created a beast from their constant curiosity. And though the Beast was no longer threatening them that curiosity still remained, and the call of an unexplored world was too much. So they decided to make a quick unscheduled stop, and investigate the radio signal.
The NTWF, where they had landed, was a little overwhelming. But they managed to track the piggybacked signal.
But something was wrong.
It wasn't coming from a radio tower at all. It wasn't even coming from an office building.
It was coming from a very small library.
"What do we do?"
"We can't exactly march in there and ask about our signal."
"Would we even all fit in there?"
"I could go," Dr. Khouri surprised them by suggesting. "I am a doctor after all. I can investigate the more recent books on medicine. If this world attracts knowledge from all over..."
So Dr. Khouri went into the little library.
"Excuse me, do you happen to have a radio in here?"
The gentleman he spoke to shrugged. "There's one at the front, yes."
So Atif examined it. But even he could see it was a perfectly ordinary radio.
"I'm sorry, it doesn't work like I hoped," Atif sighed. "I was looking for news from New Amesworth..."
The librarian's face lit up. "I believe I can help you with that." He went into an office and came out with another radio- it looked as ordinary as the first, but there were some strange metal knobs on the outer edge. "What's the station number, and which world?"
"What is that?" Atif asked, curious despite himself. He had not expected the culprit to be so open about it.
"Oh," the librarian actually looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm something of a news buff, it picks up signals from hundreds of worlds. A Writer friend did some work on it. The station- it wouldn't happen to be NABC, would it?"
"That's it!" Atif figured 'why would a writer work on a radio' was a question for a later time.
While the gentlemen went into the office, Mina and Minerva were left sitting on the couch.
"I'm sorry about Argentus," Minerva began awkwardly. It seemed, in general, like a safe thing to say. "He's been going on about some news article for ages now. I'm Minerva, by the way. Minerva Spencer."
"Mina Khouri," Mina replied gratefully. "I understand. Do you live near here? It's a beautiful area."
"Sometimes," Minerva agreed. "It's certainly busy. Out-of-towners, then?"
"You could say that," Mina smiled, not quite managing to keep the chuckle out of her voice. Minerva was looking at her appraisingly, so she hastily added, "Atif moves around a fair bit for work, but our home is a fair ways away."
Minerva smiled. "Not surprising. A lot of tourists come through here. Not that you're a tourist, of course."
"Oh, I am," Mina assured her. "Does the library get busy?"
Minerva shook her head. "You have no idea. It's so quiet today."
As if to prove her wrong, a quiet giggling sound came from somewhere among the shelves.
Mina just smiled, but Minerva stood up quickly. "I think that's my phone. I left it over there. Just a moment, I'll check." She quickly disappeared around a corner, leaving Mina to leaf through a magazine on the table.
Minerva did not have to go far. A little ball of green mist sat on a shelf, giggling. Minerva stooped down so she was more or less on eye level with it, although it didn't have eyes.
"Sammy, we've talked about this. We need to be quiet when there are people here."
The green ball giggled again. "But you guys taste funny!"
For a moment Minerva wondered exactly how many times she and other people had tried to teach Sammy to use different phrasing, to no avail. "Argent's in an important meeting right now, and I'm trying not to scare the nice lady here. I think you might startle her."
"I wanna say hi."
"Maybe in a little while, but for now-"
"You're fibbing!" Sammy whined.
"Sammy, please," Minerva pleaded. "All right, I'll ask Argent about it after. But can you stay quiet for just a little longer?"
Sammy considered this. "Okay," she said.
Minerva ruffled the little elemental's head- or what might have been a head, if it were not constantly shifting mist- and went back over to where Mina sat, still flipping through a magazine. "Sorry. Had a call."
"No problem." Mina grinned at the door. "I wonder how much Atif is grilling your friend. He gets a little... enthusiastic."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm more worried about your husband, really. Argentus is good with the books, but 'minding your business' is not even in that man's vocabulary."
Mina laughed. "It's good to see him making friends. Say, do you mind if I go take a look at the garden? Those flowers by your sign are beautiful."
"Go ahead, although I can't tell you what kind they are. The previous owner planted them."
"I just want to look," Mina assured her, and stepped outside.
She was back fifteen minutes later, during which time Minerva fell into the rhythm of putting away books on the return cart. She didn't notice Mina return at all until the woman greeted her.
"Sorry to interrupt. They're some type of lily, I think," she guessed, smiling warmly. "Do you think it would be okay if I took a clipping for the greenhouse?"
"By all means." Minerva grinned. Gardening, she could understand. "I'm sure we have a baggie around here you can put it in for your trip home."
"So much happy!"
Minerva turned quickly toward the source of the sound, just in time to see Sammy's cloudy form floating towards them.
Mina, to Minerva's slight surprise, looked enchanted.
"Hello there, little one. Where'd you come from?" She asked, holding her hand out to Sammy. She happily bounced through the air toward it.
"I'm Sammy! I live here! And you were both so happy I got all kindsa energy and Minny said you'd be scared of me but you aren't!"
Minerva rubbed her face. "I asked you to stay quiet for a while." But Mina's smile was contagious, and she found it hard to stay annoyed.
"Is that what that sound was, earlier? Oh, of course I'm not, you're beautiful! Are you a... visten?" she remembered.
"I'mma elemental," Sammy preened, swirling. "What's a listen?"
Minerva watched the exchange and sighed. "So you two are off-worlders then?"
"Mhm," Mina nodded, still playing with Sammy. "How'd you know?"
"Most of the tourists are. But I didn't know until- Sammy, watch the cart!"
Both ladies jumped as Sammy zoomed over to the cart and knocked a single book off of it.
Day 10: Drinks (Wrightonverse, Carter the Intern)“So how’s life been?” Leo asked his old friend, leaning back on his chair.
“Not bad, not bad,” Al replied. He took another sip, grinning at Leo. “How’re things with your big internship?”
Leo thought back- to the craziness at the hospital, to the dome, to the spring festival, to the Day of a Thousand Cats, to the day he’d gotten a nice dose of aliens are real and nearly everyone in town now remembers when they used to be one and how it had been much easier to accept than he’d thought possible.
“It’s been a ride,” Leo said finally. “But a pretty great one. I’m glad I’m there.”
Day 11: Haircut (NTWFDND, Kindrin)Kindrin hadn’t been for his annual haircut in nearly two years, and he was beginning to notice it.
His procrastination came from the memory of his most recent haircut. It was then that he’d learned Lirfenn’s gift had an unforeseen side effect- and that his unfortunate barber was, apparently, allergic. He’d left the barber in embarrassment, after sweeping up most of the glitter his hair had left; some had been scattered by the barber’s sneezes. After that incident, he was fairly sure he was not welcome there anymore.
Still, Kindrin wasn’t quite planning on geting one elsewhere; he was starting to be fond of his longer hair.
Day 13: Fantasy (NTWF, Argent) First spoiler is "The Pivot", a backstory thing I wrote for class several years ago. Second spoiler is the OCtober thing I wrote as a direct sequel to that!It seemed, at first, like an ordinary Friday morning. Argentus awoke at nine o’clock to find that his parents had gone to work and had not bothered to wake him for school. He didn’t mind very much. He had been feeling disconnected from school lately, as though he were drifting through it, and at times he found himself not bothering—occasionally even forgetting—to go at all. This morning, when he awoke, he had only a brief thought that he was going to stay home today before swinging up out of bed and focusing his mind on other things.
It was nearly an hour before his head began swimming. It had always done this; Argent suspected he simply had too many thoughts for it to make sense of. He had grown used to it by now, but from time to time it was still a source of irritation. It was this morning. He wasn’t exactly sure what irritated him about it; perhaps it was that people dismissed his interests as pointless, and yet he couldn’t keep himself from being drawn in by the secrets buried between the lines. Perhaps it was the fact that there was something there, something his intensely curious mind couldn’t pinpoint or name. Whatever it was, it was bothering him that morning as much as it ever had. He was even developing a headache to go along with his racing thoughts. He was dimly aware that it was a good thing he hadn’t gone to school.
The television was on, and Argent turned it off. It was distracting. He paced the kitchen, forgetting about breakfast entirely, focusing hard on the something he couldn’t pinpoint. It slipped from his concentration, and he tried to find it again, thinking vaguely that it was as evasive as a minnow. Thinking harder, he found that he was relaxing. It confused him, because just moments before he had been irritated. But relaxation felt nice. He slowed down the pacing, closed his eyes, and just let himself breathe. And just like that, it happened— his mind floated over the something he had never been able to think of. There was a moment of blankness, and then he found himself contemplating…
…the town museum? Argent opened his eyes and made a face. What was so important about the museum? His class had gone there, two years ago, on a field trip. He had liked it, true, but it was just a museum. Had he left something there? What could be so important that his subconscious was seemingly repressing memories about it?
It wasn’t until that moment that Argent registered where he was. He wasn’t pacing the kitchen any longer; he had stopped, and was now in a room that made him sure, for a moment, that he was dreaming.
He was in a quiet room whose walls were covered in colourful paintings. He knew this room. It had been his favourite part of the museum visit. The curator had stood talking about the artists who created the paintings on the walls, and their inspirations. He had been quite enthusiastic, speaking of the art as though it was his pride and joy, and many of Argent’s classmates had snickered. Argent had stayed quiet, like always, but privately he thought there was something to what the man said. To find something so beautiful that you can scarcely hold it in—that was the first time Argent had thought that it might actually be possible.
Now, though, Argent had more pressing things to think about. How had he gotten there? He had been standing in his kitchen just a moment ago, hadn’t he? He reached out and touched the glittering rope that told patrons not to go any closer to the paintings, thinking it might jolt him back to consciousness. The rope was solid, cool and silky, but Argent didn’t feel so much as a jolt, and he remained exactly where he was.
“Excuse me.”
Argent turned around at the sound of the voice. A bespectacled woman with a polite expression had appeared in the doorway behind him. “The tour has gone on.”
“Oh, um, okay,” Argent stammered, turning a bit. The woman gave a smile that did not reach her eyes, and turned around and left the room herself. Argent hurried through the doorway nearest him, but when he reached the other side he did not look at the nature objects it contained. Instead he stood against the wall and thought “How did I get here?”
It said a lot about how his mind worked that the first possibility that had come to mind, that he was sleeping, he dismissed entirely. He thought for nearly five minutes before it dawned on him what had happened.
“That’s it!” he breathed, wondering at the same time why it had been the museum he had come to. He only hoped it would work again; it was a very long walk back home from the museum.
Argent could hear voices. The tour was clearly over, and they were coming back through. Argent, though, heard them as if from miles away. Why should he pay attention, why should he worry, they had nothing to do with anything…
He closed his eyes again and tried to feel that sense of relaxation. It seemed much easier this time. He felt the blankness again, this time accompanied by a strong sense of rushing colour. Home, he thought. I need to be at home.
As he'd expected, when he opened his eyes, Argent was standing in his driveway. What he hadn't expected was the strong sense of things making sense. He raced inside, pulled out a quill and paper, and began to scribble down some words.
“Shifting through memories...places I've been...seems to go by strength of thought.”
He stopped writing. Why was he making a note of this? It was an integral part of him, that much seemed quite clear now. He wouldn't need notes. Nevertheless he waited until the ink dried, opened his filing cabinet, and placed it in neatly with his other notes.
And with that done, he went to think some more on this new development that would quite likely change his life- not knowing, of course, that it already had.
The day after Argent discovered his ability, he returned to school and resolved to try harder to focus. It stood to reason, he thought, that now that he had found that *something* in his head, it would be easier to focus on his lessons.
Unfortunately, it was no easier than before. He'd missed two days that week already, and his class was hard at work on some models of famous Guild landmarks. His teacher had put him in a group with two of his most diligent classmates, under the logic that they'd be able to do it even if he remained absent. Now, they were about halfway finished a plasticine recreation of the Mercenary Base, and there was very little left for him to do that hadn’t already been planned out.
Still, he had made a resolution, and he did his best. He even made chitchat with his partners.
“Hey, Argent, are you okay?” one classmate, Kim, asked.
“Yes,” he answered, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’ve been out of school a lot,” Russi smeared some gold plasticine on the sign he was making. “Everyone thinks you’re sick.”
“No,” Argent said quietly. “Just busy.”
“With what?”
“That isn’t important,” Argent dismissed.
The other two just went back to their working in silence. It was pretty much typical Argent behavior, albeit a bit unnerving. The boy had a way of making even simple things sound mysterious, and it did get tiring after a while.
He lasted until lunch before his excitement got the better of him, and he tried to teleport from under the playground equipment to the boys’ washroom. He ended up in a different washroom to the one he’d expected, but they both looked almost the same; he figured it was more or less a success. The rest of the school day went by mostly without incident; there wasn’t any more group work, and Argent’s intent scribblings in his notebook gave his teacher the erroneous belief that he was focused on the classwork, so he was left more or less alone.
That night, he asked his parents. “Have there been any mages in our family?”
“Not on my side,” his mother, said. “Why?”
“I think my uncle might be a pirate,” his father added.
“Your uncle is a what now?”
“I’ve never even met him!”
“We’re doing Guilds in class,” Argent told them, interrupting. “Can we go to the library on the weekend?”
“Sure, sweetie,” his father smiled.
“Thanks!” Argent told him. And he looked so genuinely happy that both of his parents beamed.
There was no real reason to keep the teleportation secret. But Argent knew he must, that it absolutely needed to be his and his alone to know. It felt as right as the discovery itself, like the beginning of a very fascinating adventure.
An adventure Argent planned to be there for all the way.
Day 16: Pranks (Wrightonverse, Jamil)
"Jamil, we've got to talk about your pranking habit."
Jamil grinned cheekily, more out of habit than anything. "I don't know what you're upset about, Ms. Kenning. I took the frog outside, just like you said!"
"Outside does not mean 'put it in Mr. Albert's car'. This is the third prank this month, Jamil, is everything okay?"
"The window was open! How d'you know he didn't just get in by himself?"
"Jamil."
"All right, all right. But it was funny, wasn't it?"
"That's not the point." She bit her lip. "It could've been dangerous. What if it had jumped into his eyes while he was driving?"
"But- I- It wouldn't-" He frowned. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone!"
"Jokes aren't a bad thing, Jamil. But you need to learn to think about them first. If someone could get hurt, or their feelings could get hurt, it's not a good joke. It's just being mean."
Jamil thought about it. He certainly didn't want to be mean. But he was glad Ms. Kenning didn't seem to know that he was the one that let the frog inside in the first place.
~~~~
"I can't believe they managed that."
Jamil stood with what seemed to be the entire rest of his high school student body, staring up at where the school flag had once flown. In its place, now, was an entire line of underpants stretching from the ground to the top of the pole. People were snickering, or gasping, or taking photos. Jamil was just staring, grinning faintly.
"Hey, you sure that wasn't you, Khouri?" A tall, skinny boy elbowed Jamil with a sly grin. "Trying to get back your glory days?"
"Been in econ all morning, Joe, you were there." He chuckled. "I'm pretty much done with the pranks these days. Whoever did, though, I'm impressed."
The crowd scattered a bit as Principal Green walked up, stared at the flagpole, and shook his head. "Not again."
~~~~
It was his second date, and Jamil was a bundle of nerves.
Renaia was amazing- Jamil was excited she'd agreed to go out with him again, and somehow she seemed just as excited- but he was afraid something would happen to spoil it, that she'd laugh at him and walk away.
"So do you have a big family?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"An older brother," he told her. "You? How're you liking it in Walburg?"
"Three sisters. It's a beautiful city! I'm glad I decided to come for the summer. Have you lived here all your life?"
"Born and raised," he confirmed. "You're from Wrighton, right? Is it nice?"
"I love it," Renaia smiled. "You should visit sometime. It's gorgeous in the fall."
"I should," Jamil agreed. "Uh- I bet at least they don't spray-paint butts on their billboards." Internally he cringed. Why did I bring that up? I panicked! What was I thinking?
Renaia giggled. "Someone did what? Where?"
Jamil grinned sheepishly. "Last year. There was an ad for a farmer's market, and the board had a big peach on it, and..."
Renaia laughed- a bright, deep laugh. It made Jamil smile too. "My sister used to try and hide the blackboard erasers from the teachers."
"I bet she wasn't quite as bad as I was when I was in elementary school..."
"Oh? I think I want to hear about this..."
~~~~
Jamil was lost.
Ever since he'd moved, life had seemed determined to throw the strangest curveballs at him. First, something had happened to little Atif- something that he hadn't really known what to do about. Then he'd lost Naia, and he was still reeling from that, five years later. And now her parents were determined to protect their grandson, and he hadn't paid them much mind until a year ago, when he'd said something without thinking and found himself wearing hard plastic as a coat, and it occurred to him that maybe they were right to be so overprotective. But now Atif was growing, and he was quiet and nervous and Jamil couldn't remember the last time he'd heard the boy laugh. And Jamil didn't know what to do- he wanted to be a good father, and he saw something of himself deep inside his son, wrapped in layers of caution. But he didn't know what the right thing to do was.
But he knew what he would have wanted, if it had been him.
Which was why he went into the basement and retrieved the biggest pieces of his former work coat, and set them over his shirt while he sat. And why, when Atif came in from outside and asked what he was doing, Jamil answered, "I'm measuring. I wanted to see if I've gained any weight since last year. Do you think this still fits?"
And when his bewildered son's face broke into a grin, and then began to laugh, Jamil felt his heart warm. And deep inside, his inner child beamed.
Day 18: Sleep (Wrightonverse, OG spoilercharacters belonging to Celes, Twillie, Shinko and I)When Tarso woke up, they were surrounded.
They noticed that before anything else; before they even noticed that they'd actually gone unconscious, and that that probably wasn't good. As their eyes opened they saw several familiar faces. Mirier, Renou, S'siri looking at once worried and stern. Trell and Theo and Iki and several other faces. Tarso was ashamed and guilty; these people must have worried about them.
"I'm sorry about that," they said. It came out as a croak. "I'm all right."
"No, you aren't," S'siri told them, sounding a bit annoyed. "Look at your hand."
Tarso did, and stifled a groan. Its round shape was a gray-green, darker and far less vivid than it ought to be.
"All right, maybe I need a couple of days-"
"What you need is to take better care of yourself." Jasy put her hands on her hips. "Doc, you've been working yourself into the ground."
"I'm just doing my job," Tarso protested, closing their eyes again.
"Your job is to take care of the medical needs of the people on this voyage. That includes you." S'siri told them sternly.
"You're no use to anyone if you aren't taking care of yourself," Mirier agreed.
"Also- people do care about you, too, you know," Iki told them.
Tarso was quiet. "I'm sorry to worry everyone. I overdid it." They sighed. "I'll try to do better in future."
"Thank you," Iki said, concerned. Renou nodded firmly.
Theo looked up at S'siri. "On the topic of Dr. Tarso's job, weren't we just discussing the issue of Kolra's broken glasses? And your pen?"
"And I believe there was a shortage of paperclips some time ago, yes." She looked at Tarso. "None of which you had to fix."
"I get the picture," Tarso groaned. "It's just habit."
"Then you'll have to break it. Spreading yourself too thin is never good- as you yourself have told me," S'siri added.
"All right," they said, burying their face with their hands. The grayness of them was still unnerving.
No doubt their companions noticed this, because they began picking up bags and sweaters and a couple headed for the door.
"All right. Now, you need to get some rest. Is there anything you need?" Trell asked. "We'll take care of things while you recover, all right?"
"Rest, food. Maybe a walk." Tarso closed their eyes again. "I'll come for dinner later on. And please come and get me if anything happens-"
"It won't," Renou said firmly. "Get some sleep."
As his friends said goodbye and filed out of their room, Tarso drifted into the small tethasi on the table. S'siri turned and watched as they settled into it.
"Take your own advice and be good to yourself," she said, a bit more softly.
And Tarso, though they couldn't respond, resolved to do just that.
Day 19: Work (NTWF, Shadow and Minerva)This is a direct sequel to Guilds' War: InterludeIt was nearly seven, and Minerva was still at the library.
The returns cart was backed up, there was an order of movies to be picked up and catalogued, patrons to help, and someone had gotten glitter all over one of the sofas. (Ordinary, non-magical glitter; it was much worse than the magical stuff that eventually faded away.) None of which could wait, because there was a reading happening tomorrow at ten, and she couldn’t delegate because her only source of help had decided to bug off to who-knew-where with only a message.
She was allowing herself to fume over this; it had only been two days since Argent’s disappearance, and she figured she deserved a good few days, at least. It had been a very rude awakening to arrive at work, check the library messages, and hear “Morning Minerva, I’m sorry about this, but there’s been an emergency. I have to go and I hope it won’t be long but I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll fill you in later if all goes well.” And then that very afternoon Shadow waltzed in with the news that some sort of war was going on in the kingdom to the east. Nobody had mentioned that since, thank heavens, but it was still very inconvenient, very rude, and very tiring. Minerva wasn’t sure how she was going to manage if Argent was gone long- maybe hire some temps. Maybe hire someone permanently, come to think of it. She wouldn’t fire him- not really, when he knew the place as well as he did- but he could certainly use some reminding that he had a job, not a playground.
Day 21: Game Night (NTWF, Shadow, Ben and Minerva)“So you just build a house like that?”
“Yep! Except you need windows, otherwise you won’t see the Creepers. So you need a sword.”
“How do you get that?”
Minerva rounded the corner into the room and grinned at the pair crowding around the computer screen. “What are you two getting up to?”
“Ben’s showing me this new game,” Shadow told her. “I’ve never actually played it before, but it looks pretty cool.”
“Wait- Augh. He’s not very good yet.” Ben looked at Shadow. “You left the door open and a zombie almost got in. I got him for you, though.”
“Oops, thanks. So how do I get a sword?”
“Here, you need to get some more stone and another stick…”
Minerva rolled up a second chair.
“Thanks,” Shadow told her, sitting in it and smiling as Ben pointed out the right way to put the materials into the crafting table.
“You too,” she said fondly, and left them to their game.
Day 22: Music (Wrightonverse, Atif)Ever since Atif was young, he loved the sound of woodwind.
When he was quite small his grandmother gave him a little wooden flute and an exercise book, and from then on the flute scarcely left his person. At first, there were screeches and squeaks, and it was a mark of his family’s patience that there were no earplugs. But the flute came naturally to Atif, as much as good grades did- certainly much more so than bowling. And so within a week or so he was sounding out simple songs. That was when he first felt a kinship with it. The soothing, airy tone made Atif feel like he was floating, and when he put it into melody it was more like dancing.
As he grew his love of music grew with him; he signed up for lessons in high school, and when he graduated medical school he went out and bought himself a new flute- not an especially fancy one, but a step up from the one he’d had since high school. When he was wound tightly he would play to help calm him down. And once there was Mina, when she was working with all her flowers, he would play for them, because Mina said flowers loved music. And because she reminded him a bit of flute-songs, and the floaty feeling they gave him.
Day 25: Family (Wrightonverse, Mina's family, just a list because I was rushing)Susan- Mina’s mom, works at a bank out of town and commutes. Has very curly, short dark hair, and is of about average height. Her favourite colours are a deep magenta and gold, and she enjoys classic rock and game shows. She gets flustered in unstructured social situations and can be blunt, but she fusses over anyone she considers family.
Jose- Mina’s dad. Works at the Post Office as a mailman, he takes his job seriously but enjoys it. Is the absolute biggest aversion of the “mailmen and dogs don’t get along” trope ever; he has to pet every single dog. He’s on the shorter side (just a bit shorter than his wife) and paler, and he has a mustache. His favourite colour is blue, and he likes watching baseball; he also shares his wife’s love of classic rock.
Carl- The oldest child and Mina’s only brother, Carl is a teacher elsewhere in the country. He visits several times a year, and he’s the best cook in the family. Despite being fully grown, he still acts like the teasing big brother to his siblings. His favourite colours are deep blue and brown, and he enjoys cooking and literature.
Sylvia- Mina’s oldest sister and the one who looks the most like their mom. She works in the Wrighton Mall in a nail salon, and has eight-year-old twins. Her favourite colour is green. She likes disco music and listening to radio shows, and she’s always making puns. Seriously, always.
Toni- A year older than Mina, Toni is a novel editor and they also write mystery novels. Their favourite colours are silver-grey, mauve and orange. They’re friendly with the people who work in the library, and two of their books are in there. They love hamsters. They’re also a big fan of mystery in general, and spooky movies.
Cora- Mina’s younger sister, she teaches kindergarten in Wrighton. She’s very fond of children and dotes like crazy on her niece and nephew. Her favourite colours are light yellow and rose-pink. She has a quieter voice than her siblings, but she has a surprising knack for telling dirty jokes. She absolutely loves gingerbread.
Day 26: Hot (Wrightonverse, Atif)
The hottest days of summer were when Atif wished most that he understood what had happened to him, and that he didn’t have to hide it.
He almost never thought about it. “Not hiding it” was so far removed from reality that it felt dangerous to even think about it. And it wasn’t that he especially wanted to share with anyone. Atif believed in keeping his own business to himself, and that was good.
But occasionally, on the very hottest of days, Atif would allow himself the petty thought that sometimes keeping to himself was annoying.
Atif was not, as a rule, fond of the heat. Heat waves tended to bring people in larger numbers to the hospital suffering related health complications, and things that resulted in more people getting sick were not among his favourites. Even aside from that, it was tiring and sweaty. Mina certainly kept to the cool of her shop enough, trying to keep the plants from dying. Atif rather suspected nobody really liked the overwhelming heat.
Except that as a teenager he had discovered that, when he transformed, he didn’t mind it nearly so much.
He had no idea why. Maybe it was something in his green skin, or the airy way he floated along. But what had felt like oppressive heat before now felt like a pleasant, warm afternoon. He was no cooler than before, but he was quite a bit more comfortable. His father used to tease that he was jealous, that he wanted to be able to “turn into a sunflower” on hot days too. Atif always laughed at that, and one year bought him a sunflower plant for Father’s Day.
But it was a bit frustrating, because Atif was jealous too. He wanted to go enjoy the sunshine. But there was nowhere to go. Even the woods at the edge of town saw their fair share of hikers, and Atif didn’t want to be the grain of truth behind the next cryptid rumour to float around town.
On these occasions he usually headed back to work, to see if there was anything extra he could do, or else wandered over to the flower shop. It was better to keep busy when he was feeling irritated; there was no use in dwelling on it, after all.
Besides, the hospital and flower shop both had air conditioning.
Day 27: Cold (Wrightonverse, Mina)
Mina Khouri loved when summer segued into autumn, and the first chill began to drift into the air.
Sure, it made her work more expensive to keep up with, but it was worth it. Autumn meant she could pull out her long sweaters and scarves, and make use of the new scarf or two she always bought at the summer festival. And the cooler weather always brought her brother visiting, and he always made his famous brown sugar pork chops that Toni liked so much (Mina loved them too, but it was a family tradition that Toni always got the first one ever since they'd stolen an entire plate as a kid.) And the autumn just smelled nice, like a low excitement and the edge of something new. She'd loved that smell even as a child, and its familiar return always felt comforting to her.
Day 29: Horoscopes (NTWF, Shadow)
The stars were always a slightly strange sight for Shadow.
It’s always jarring to go somewhere far from home and see that the stars aren’t where you’re used to them being. For Shadow it was even stranger; these stars were completely different ones from the ones he’d grown up with. And though he’d had years to adjust, it still took him a second each time. He’d memorized the constellations; The Dreamer shone bright over Meridell, and The Thief twinkled cheerfully on the clearest nights. There might have been constellations here, but Shadow had never learned their names. Instead he made them up, connecting stars in his mind as he stared up at the night sky. There was the River, and the Book, and the Old Moon. (The last one wasn’t really a constellation; Shadow was fairly sure it actually was the remains of the moon from the last time it had been blown up.)
Strange as it was, the unfamiliar sky never actually bothered Shadow. It was almost comforting. As fond as he’d been of Neopia’s stars, it felt good sleeping free from their influence. A truly fresh start. And every time he remembered that the sky was different here, he felt a twinge of gratitude for whichever stars had been the ones to lead him here.
Day 30: History (NTWF, Minerva) This is the reason I haven't done this before now: it exploded, and I just finished it last night. As a little bit of trivia, the world map Minerva is looking at is this one Hunty drew!Minerva was having the world's strangest dream.
She found herself walking a street that was similar and yet wildly different to her own. Bemused by the dream, she went into several shops to investigate. The first shop was a bakery run by a short..creature, of some kind, with yellow fur. When Minerva tried to buy a pastry, the creature asked for her "shinies" and when she offered it money, it told her "Only the Pirates deal in gold" and refused to take it. Everyone wanted shinies- the next store she went into asked for them, and the next. Minerva was amused each time. Typical of a dream, to not allow you to buy anything. Eventually she got a slice of pizza from a booth that was handing out samples, and in true dream fashion, it tasted of blueberries (although, strangely, Minerva didn't mind it.) At the end of the day, when the sun set over the ocean, she found a bench and sat on it, closed her eyes, and waited to wake up.
But nothing happened, except that after a while, Minerva was cold- cold and annoyed. She was ready to wake up now! But maybe in dreams like this, you had to fall asleep to wake up? She didn't feel tired yet. Still, even in a dream she didn't feel comfortable roaming a strange city at night in case it became a nightmare. So she asked a passing couple of teenagers for directions to a hotel and was instead directed to a nearby bar, whose owner had been known to rent out rooms. Fairly sure the phrase “Any old port in a storm” applied here, she thanked them and made her way over there.
Inside, it was still fairly quiet. A young woman with green skin and hair was sweeping the floor, and the bartender, a very tall, very beefy man, chatted with a couple of people seated at the bar. The woman looked up when Minerva walked in.
“Welcome to the Spyder's Mirth,” she recited. “Arnie can take your order over there.”
“Is he the owner?” Minerva asked. The young woman cocked her head.
“Yes, but if you're here about the barfight, there's a sign on the door. “Not responsible for any loss of property, sanity, or limbs.” Instinctively Minerva checked to make sure she still had all four limbs; satisfied, she shook her head.
“No, I just heard he rents out rooms. ”
The woman visibly relaxed. “Oh. Yo! Arnie!” The man and his three patrons looked over. “This lady wants to rent a room.”
“Sure.” He came out from behind the bar and waved an arm at her, barely turning his head. “Back here.”
Minerva hesitated, but the green woman had gone back to sweeping and Arnie was waiting for her. She caught up and followed him through the back door, and was surprised to find a very tidy little wooden hallway with four doors in it. Arnie stopped at the first one on the right and opened it.
The room was as tidy as the hallway, although it was small and smelled of beer. A small end-table holding a lamp and a small metal bell sat beside a bed whose frame looked rusty. Across the room there was a bookcase under a window. Minerva stepped inside. “Thank you.”
Arnie shrugged. “I need the money up front.”
“I-” Minerva paused. She'd forgotten about that. This dream was awfully consistent. “I don't have shinies. Just this.” She pulled out her wallet and withdrew a twenty dollar bill. “It’s money, but-”
“Good.” Arnie took it from her before she'd finished speaking. “Use the bell if you need anything; Lou'll be along. And word of advice? Get to sleep early.” He shut the door behind him, and Minerva sat on the bed.
She had no way of telling what time it was. There was no clock in the room, and her watch was reading 3 PM, which was obviously wrong. But she supposed time was inconsistent in dreams. The best thing to do was to lie back and wait to wake up. So she did, closing her eyes and noticing that while the mattress was a bit lumpy, it was at least warmer in here.
She wasn't sure how long she lie there. At some point she drifted off, feeling a warm sense of happiness that she’d finally finished her dream. But when she jolted awake at the sound of a crash somewhere, she was momentarily dismayed to find she was in the same bed she'd fallen asleep in. Momentarily because there was another crash sound, followed by a raucous cheer. The walls here were evidently extremely thin. Minerva groaned and put the pillow over her head, trying to go back to sleep, just as a loud song of some kind rose up from the bar.
It was going to be a long night.
When Minerva exited her room sometime the next morning, the bar was empty save for Arnie dozing in a booth. There was a broken chair in the corner nearest the door to the rooms, and peanut shells littered the sticky floor. She made her way to the door quietly and slipped out, hoping the gentle ring of the door's bells didn't wake Arnie. He had seemed like a decent sort, and he was the most ordinary-looking person she'd seen so far in this dream.
The city was bustling. She still couldn't tell what time it was, but she must have slept in. Her stomach felt empty, and she remembered all she'd had to eat the previous day was that blueberry pizza. She needed food, and fast.
(A small part of her wondered why she was so hungry. You never felt hungry in dreams. But she dismissed it instantly, because she already knew this was the strangest, longest dream she'd ever had.)
So she followed her nose. A few streets over from the Spyder's Mirth, there was an open door, and from it wafted the most delicious scent. Inside, Minerva found a pleasant little restaurant filled with more strange people, some of whom looked distinctly non-human. The sight of them comforted her, reminded her that this was still just a dream. She sat down cheerfully at the closest empty table and examined the menu.
The food choices were surprisingly ordinary, although some of them had small symbols next to them, and there was no explanation for them. When a squat man with a very sharp nose approached and asked for her order, she asked for the vegetable soup and a glass of water, and ate quietly. The soup was wonderful and, unlike the pizza, tasted exactly as she thought vegetable soup should. She felt miles better, and happily full. The man refused her paper money, but instead asked for the shining coins that fell from her wallet, despite her protests that they were worth much less.
After her soup, Minerva wandered down to the city docks. It felt like stepping into some kind of historical movie; the docks were made mostly of worn wood, though a few were stone, and they were very large. There were dozens of boats, but over all of them stood three or four extremely large ships. One of them, the very largest, was unmistakably a pirate ship, complete with Jolly Roger and a great cabin. Minerva could see a few people onboard, and watched with interest as a pirate in red swung down from the sails to land atop the cabin, watched by a couple of small blue creatures who had also scampered up there. She spent the afternoon enjoying the sights and sounds of the ocean, and watching the fisherfolk bring in their hauls. At one point she saw a merman next to one of the smaller boats, who waved to her, and she hesitantly waved back.
The sunset over the ocean was breathtaking, and Minerva stayed on the docks to watch the entire thing. Without a doubt it was the most beautiful dream she could ever remember having.
That evening she was still full from lunch, so Minerva was in no hurry to find more food. Instead she tried to make her way back to the Spyder's Mirth. Unfortunately the city was rather large, and Minerva's quest was not at all helped by the very busy streets. She saw dozens of people- many of them heading in the same direction. Eventually she asked one, a girl in purple, where they were all going.
"Wedding at the 'Bloids," she explained. "I want in!"
Slightly concerned about the prospect of crashing someone's wedding, Minerva nonetheless joined the stream of people, hoping she'd wake up at any minute.
She did not. The girl in purple, who Minerva had been following, walked until they came to a closed-off street. She pointed out the group inside- in which she recognized the pirate from earlier, joined by a man with silver-blue hair, a winged dog of some kind, a bird as bright as flame, and a humanoid brown cat. As well as, shortly, the girl in purple, who leaped over the barrier and was greeted with happy cheers. Minerva watched with interest, wondering who the couple was; this was solved when someone said "I now pronounce you insane. You may now snog!" There was a lot of laughing and clapping and very little actual snogging, and Minerva wondered what in the world the point of this dream was.
She stayed for the wedding party, and when people began to trickle off one by one on their own (including, she noticed, all the newlyweds) she was too tired to walk back to the bar even if she had known where to go. Cautiously and wearily, Minerva clutched her purse to her side and joined the revelers who had decided to simply sleep where they were. She found an unoccupied bench and was asleep almost instantly.
When she awoke the next morning, chilly but otherwise just as she had been the night before, she was barely even surprised at once again not being in her own bed. It was her third day, and Minerva was tired of roaming around the city. She got some breakfast at a cafe near the town square (which again refused to take paper money, and instead took the last of her change) and attempted to find a tourism centre of some kind.
What she found instead was a bulletin board the size of a truck, covered in papers of all shapes and sizes. There were event posters ("Jousting Tournament- This Weekend!") flyers for shops and restaurants ("Bluenel Lodge: All the Best Clothing for Today's Tabloider") and even, alarmingly, a wanted poster, although Minerva wasn't sure it was serious. ("Wanted: Annoying pest who drew me looking ridiculous.") Scattered among them were more mundane papers, notes about people buying and selling things or looking for their lost Meepit.
One in particular caught Minerva's eye, because it was on bright green paper.
"Help Wanted- shopkeep. Apply at Star on the Hill, finest map seller of southern Tabloid Town."
A map sounded practical. She spotted a redheaded young man leaving the shop next to the bulletin board and asked if he knew where this place was.
"I think you're best off taking the bus," he told her. "That store's almost outside the city proper. Station's up that street," he pointed. She thanked him and followed the street, and soon was seated on a very large, gunmetal-grey bus.
It must have still been early, because the bus was almost empty. Minerva had a seat near the front and watched out the window as it went on its way, watching with interest.
She had not known whether the city was a large or small one, from the ground she had covered on foot, but the bus ride made it even more confusing. As they drove it looked more and more like a small port town that had adopted the life of a grand city, and was hesitantly sticking out feelers to decide where it might be good to expand to. They passed a cluster of small farms next to a very tall apartment building, and a number of tiny parks. The technology, she noticed, was wildly varied. Torches burned alongside modern-looking lights, and the very bus she sat on contrasted with the dragon-person riding a horse who met someone off the bus. It was all quite vivid, and Minerva was sorry to leave when at last the driver coasted into an extremely quiet bus stop and announced that it was Minerva's.
As the young man had said, the area was almost outside the city. There was a small convenience store at the bus stop, and a telephone pole, but very little else. It was almost more like countryside than city, and down the road, up the hill, she could see another building. She waved goodbye to the bus driver and hurried along toward what she hoped was the Star on the Hill.
As shops went, Minerva couldn't help thinking it was a little shabby. The worn wooden sign on the roof proclaimed that it was, in fact, the Star on the Hill, and the chipping green paint on the walls showed the same smooth wood underneath. There were only two windows, a little round one on the door and a bigger, squarish one that served as a display. The one in the window glowed softly with a tiny neon sign that said 'Open', so Minerva went inside with a jingling of bells.
Inside, the walls were lined with maps. Nobody was behind the counter, but someone was bent over a wooden box next to a coat rack. Upon hearing the bells, he straightened up and turned, and Minerva saw that he was a very tall, quite young elf, dark-skinned and smiling.
"Good morning," he said. "How can I help you?"
"Ah," she started. "I'd like to buy a map. Of the area."
"We should have some of those still out," he frowned. "How big an area? Just Tabloid Town? The whole country? The known lands?" He grinned, spreading his arms wide, and Minerva could tell that he was being playful, offering such big 'areas'. But she was suddenly curious.
"Can I see a world map? And one of the area just around the city?"
"World map is there on the wall," the man pointed. "G.T.T.A map I'll find in a jiffy."
He went behind the counter, and Minerva made her way over to the largest map on the wall.
"G.T.T.A? What's that?" Minerva asked before looking at it.
"Greater Tabloid Town Area," came the man's muffled voice, as he had crouched down behind the counter. "From the coast about halfway down Scandalbrook River."
Minerva looked at the big map, trying to match up the location and then letting her eyes wander. It was *huge.* The city she was in- Tabloid Town- was a mere dot, on the edge of a massive ocean and even bigger landmass. She saw more cities labeled, farther up, and a mountain range in the north. Some of the places had ordinary-sounding names, familiar, even, and some decidedly did not. She thought about asking the man about "Jelly Kingdom" and "Darkthorn" but decided against it. She suddenly felt very small.
"I think we've packed away the local maps. I'll go see if Mom knows where they are." The man looked over and noticed, for the first time, Minerva's staring. "You okay?"
"Oh, that's fine," she replied absently. She tore her gaze away from the world map, which had somehow made her both amazed and afraid, and looked at some of the other maps on the wall. There was a smaller one detailing a series of islands that had only been roughly labelled on the larger map, with each one named and a dark purple symbol off the edge of one island that Minerva didn't recognize. There was a pamphlet detailing the footpaths through Sherwood Forest; that one made Minerva smile. There were other maps, too, maps that didn't seem to correspond to any place on the world map but were very detailed, and one that looked more like a sketch than a finished map. They all looked old, and they all looked beautiful.
A door creaked, and Minerva looked up to see a woman about her own age, perhaps a little younger, beaming at her from a doorway. In stark contrast to the man who had left, she was short and freckled, with a button of a nose, but her pointed ears were just as warmly brown and she smiled just as brightly. In her hand was a scrolled paper.
"Beautiful, aren't they? The world is always bigger than it seems but smaller than it feels." She crossed the room and stood next to Minerva, reaching only her shoulders.
"All this..." Minerva shook her head. "How big *is* this place?"
"Hard to say exactly, with the Grey Lands," Martha said cheerfully. "Adam said you wanted a city map?"
"If possible," Minerva nodded. "Why did he say they were packed away?"
"We're in the process of closing down, I'm afraid." She unrolled the scroll and held it up for Minerva. "This what you needed?"
"Closing down? But I thought you were looking for help," Minerva blurted. "I saw your sign."
Martha shook her head. "You saw an old one, I'm afraid. We close down next week."
"I'm sorry," Minerva told her. "This map looks perfect, by the way."
"I'll be able to retire, at least." Martha gave a high laugh, too high. "Adam can move up to Brassport like he's dreamed of doing. And I can move to the coast." She turned to Minerva. "What about you? New in town, I presume, but it's not everyone that comes looking for a map to learn their way. If it was, I'd still be in business." She laughed, for real this time.
Minerva frowned. "I've only been here a few days. It just seemed sensible. I had no idea this... world was so big." She glanced at the map in her hand. "What do I owe you for this?"
Martha cocked her head at her. "A few days, eh? Tell you what. You can have that map, and I'll throw in some advice. My friend works at a library, and ey tells me there's a fantastic history section. If you want to learn about this place, I can send you eir way."
"No, no, I insist. I don't have shinies, but I have..." Minerva checked her purse. "Twenty-one dollars." She listened and looked back at the largest map. "History? Sure, why not?"
"You need that map more than I do, and what kind of impression would you get of this town if nobody showed a little kindness?" Martha smiled. "It's not far from here, actually. Let me write down the address..."
Minerva watched as she went to the counter and jotted down the address, humming as she did. This- dream seemed to have gotten so much bigger than she thought, and she was half afraid to see what would happen next. But Martha's warm manner calmed her a little, and she found herself feeling, along with the fear, a little curiosity.
"Here you are." Martha placed the scrap of paper in Minerva's hand, squeezing it as she did. "Safe travels, my dear. And if you're ever in the city, look me up. Martha Gainsboro. You can tell me how you fared."
"I will," Minerva promised. And as she walked out the door, she was somewhat surprised to realize that she had meant it.
~~~~
Bonus links to OCtobers involving both NTWF characters and non-NTWF ones:Day 7: PaletteDay 14: InstagramDay 20: FormalDay 31: Celebration
