Music Prompt:
Con aka Samwise: The chimes rang out slowly, echoing out of the old kazaam steeple. The vibrations were followed by an almost mournful buzz from the nearby electronic monitor, plastered on the front of the sanctuary, depicting all the most recent propaganda. It was disgusting, really. They were displaying their blatant lies on the front of a place of worship. A worship of truth. Made it almost seem purposal.
Sketch leaned into the cubbyhole that he had found. His back was up against the cold stone now. At least he was out of the rain. His feet were placed in exactly the same spot as two previous feet. A statue’s feet. This whole city had been gutted. All of its heritage removed, and replaced by monitors.
And now the younger generation didn’t know who and what they were.
Slowly a speeder wheeled down the street. Searching for him. Sketch was handily hidden behind one of the screens, but he could still see through the holes in the monitor. Holes made by rocks thrown my insubordinate citizens.
Chains rattled below.
Sketch slowly reached out with both hands, and pressed on the monitor. It resisted momentarily, and then crashed to the ground below. It fizzed in a puddle below. A nearby wire sparked next to Sketch’s head, where it had been plugged into the thing.
The guy on the speeder turned to face him. Sketch raised up his hands. “Totally an accident, man! Totally! I was just standing up here, hiding from you, and I leaned on it too hard, and boom, it’s lying down there drowning!” Sketch paused. “Who installed it, because they did a crappy job! You should investigate them!”
The guy on the speeder seemed stunned. That was the intention.
“I’m going to go inspect the rest of these, see if they have similar issues.” Sketch stepped forward, and off the edge. He hovered there his boot jets keeping him level. “Gotta run.”
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Forty-four days. It had been forty-four days. Not even so much as a “hello”. She knew she deserved it.
She sat at her piano and brushed her fingers against the cold keys, worn from years of use. Random snippets of songs transmitted from her brain into her hands, but she couldn’t make any coherent melody out of them. She searched for the perfect thing to play, but instead of finding it, her hands fell limp into her lap.
A yellow light flashed in the corner of her eye. The piano needed water. For once, she ignored its gentle plea. She leaned her elbows on the keys, put her head down on her arms, and stared out the window.
Words floated in and out of her mind. Patches of conversations they had had. The sounds of uncontrollable laughter, mindless humming, quiet sobs. The voices were soft and familiar. Even smells came back to her, the aromas of baking cookies and rainy asphalt and the dust that collected on the windowsills.
Forty-four days since she had been home. It felt like years.
Maria #2 aka Fili: The skype ringtone played, bouncing off the walls of her room while she herself lay in the middle of her bed, knees pressed up against her chest. Her hair splayed out in all directions, connecting her to the darkness of the room like fine cords. The screen of her laptop at the edge of her bed cut through the deep dark that covered the floor and drenched the walls. The call dropped off of the screen, and her fingers turned white, pressing so hard into her knees. Her cheeks were damp, sticky with tears, and her eyes felt swollen. Her heart, however, felt nothing. It seemed so peaceful, to sit here and watch the same thing happen over and over again. A call would come in, and she wouldn’t move an inch. The call would drop, and she would imagine she never knew anyone by the name of Sara. She would picture a beautiful world, where she was its only inhabitant, a place full of darkness and warm soothing nothing. She reached forward, arm shaking, and moved the cursor over to the logout button. “Goodbye,” Her lips parted with a crack and her voice split the ends of her hair. Nothing would ever be quite the same. Never again.
Sketch leaned into the cubbyhole that he had found. His back was up against the cold stone now. At least he was out of the rain. His feet were placed in exactly the same spot as two previous feet. A statue’s feet. This whole city had been gutted. All of its heritage removed, and replaced by monitors.
And now the younger generation didn’t know who and what they were.
Slowly a speeder wheeled down the street. Searching for him. Sketch was handily hidden behind one of the screens, but he could still see through the holes in the monitor. Holes made by rocks thrown my insubordinate citizens.
Chains rattled below.
Sketch slowly reached out with both hands, and pressed on the monitor. It resisted momentarily, and then crashed to the ground below. It fizzed in a puddle below. A nearby wire sparked next to Sketch’s head, where it had been plugged into the thing.
The guy on the speeder turned to face him. Sketch raised up his hands. “Totally an accident, man! Totally! I was just standing up here, hiding from you, and I leaned on it too hard, and boom, it’s lying down there drowning!” Sketch paused. “Who installed it, because they did a crappy job! You should investigate them!”
The guy on the speeder seemed stunned. That was the intention.
“I’m going to go inspect the rest of these, see if they have similar issues.” Sketch stepped forward, and off the edge. He hovered there his boot jets keeping him level. “Gotta run.”
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Forty-four days. It had been forty-four days. Not even so much as a “hello”. She knew she deserved it.
She sat at her piano and brushed her fingers against the cold keys, worn from years of use. Random snippets of songs transmitted from her brain into her hands, but she couldn’t make any coherent melody out of them. She searched for the perfect thing to play, but instead of finding it, her hands fell limp into her lap.
A yellow light flashed in the corner of her eye. The piano needed water. For once, she ignored its gentle plea. She leaned her elbows on the keys, put her head down on her arms, and stared out the window.
Words floated in and out of her mind. Patches of conversations they had had. The sounds of uncontrollable laughter, mindless humming, quiet sobs. The voices were soft and familiar. Even smells came back to her, the aromas of baking cookies and rainy asphalt and the dust that collected on the windowsills.
Forty-four days since she had been home. It felt like years.
Maria #2 aka Fili: The skype ringtone played, bouncing off the walls of her room while she herself lay in the middle of her bed, knees pressed up against her chest. Her hair splayed out in all directions, connecting her to the darkness of the room like fine cords. The screen of her laptop at the edge of her bed cut through the deep dark that covered the floor and drenched the walls. The call dropped off of the screen, and her fingers turned white, pressing so hard into her knees. Her cheeks were damp, sticky with tears, and her eyes felt swollen. Her heart, however, felt nothing. It seemed so peaceful, to sit here and watch the same thing happen over and over again. A call would come in, and she wouldn’t move an inch. The call would drop, and she would imagine she never knew anyone by the name of Sara. She would picture a beautiful world, where she was its only inhabitant, a place full of darkness and warm soothing nothing. She reached forward, arm shaking, and moved the cursor over to the logout button. “Goodbye,” Her lips parted with a crack and her voice split the ends of her hair. Nothing would ever be quite the same. Never again.
Luke aka Merry: “L3B Bombers inbound!!”
“Fallback!”
The platoon withdrew from the ridge as the bombers dropped their proton torpedoes.
“Command, we need interceptors in the air now!”
“Platoon 1, we are already preoccupied with the heavy air and ground assault on the base. We are unable to provide you with any reinforcement or support. You simply are going to have to take the Imperial Hanger or the Imperial Base’s compound for us to send reinforcement or air support.”
Sabrina aka Legolas: Dare stood back in the shadows as he watched Illessa take the center of the courtyard. Her bare feet stepped gracefully on the wet cobble stones her hands slowly raising above her head.
With a beautiful leap, she spun into a dance spinning around the courtyard. Water splashed up from the puddles as she danced around. She slowed her hands coming up from her waist into the air. The rain gently pattered on her uplifted face, a smile on her lips, her eyes closed in contemplation.
With a little skip and a leap, she spun into a handstand, her legs flying over her head and right back down to the ground again on the other side.
Dare watched in awe at her flexibility and grace. She flew around the wet courtyard, dancing to the music in her head. Dare could almost hear the music as she danced.
It lulled as she swayed. It picked up as she ran, her hair streaming behind her. It faded as she contemplatively walked slowly across the splashing stones.
Her hands lowered, her head tipping to the side. Her soaked hair plastered itself to her face, her drenched clothes clinging to her slender frame.
She opened her eyes.
Their gazes met.
With a look of horror and embarrassment on her features, she turned and fled the courtyard, leaving him alone.
He whispered to her as she vanished, “Goodbye.”
Tiana aka Bofur: Scarlett hit the play button on her iPod and the solemn music poured through the Bluetooth speakers. She lay back on her bed and let the music wash over her as she watched the trees sway in the breeze.
There was a knock on the door and Scarlett jumped from the bed.
“Who is it?” She asked.
“Will you turn that depressing music off?”
Scarlett smiled at Zev’s annoyance.
“It was just getting to the good part.” She said.
“I doubt that that sad of a song even has a good part.” Zev opened her bedroom door and strode over to her iPod. He picked it up. “How do you work this thing?”
“Hit the Twix.” She said.
“The… what…?”
Scarlett rolled her eyes and snatched it from him.
“The Twix.” She pressed the pause button.
“Oh, that Twix.”
Scarlett laughed. “Yes.”
Zev pouted. “I want a Twix now.”
Zachary aka Kili: I HAVE NOTHING!!!
“Fallback!”
The platoon withdrew from the ridge as the bombers dropped their proton torpedoes.
“Command, we need interceptors in the air now!”
“Platoon 1, we are already preoccupied with the heavy air and ground assault on the base. We are unable to provide you with any reinforcement or support. You simply are going to have to take the Imperial Hanger or the Imperial Base’s compound for us to send reinforcement or air support.”
Sabrina aka Legolas: Dare stood back in the shadows as he watched Illessa take the center of the courtyard. Her bare feet stepped gracefully on the wet cobble stones her hands slowly raising above her head.
With a beautiful leap, she spun into a dance spinning around the courtyard. Water splashed up from the puddles as she danced around. She slowed her hands coming up from her waist into the air. The rain gently pattered on her uplifted face, a smile on her lips, her eyes closed in contemplation.
With a little skip and a leap, she spun into a handstand, her legs flying over her head and right back down to the ground again on the other side.
Dare watched in awe at her flexibility and grace. She flew around the wet courtyard, dancing to the music in her head. Dare could almost hear the music as she danced.
It lulled as she swayed. It picked up as she ran, her hair streaming behind her. It faded as she contemplatively walked slowly across the splashing stones.
Her hands lowered, her head tipping to the side. Her soaked hair plastered itself to her face, her drenched clothes clinging to her slender frame.
She opened her eyes.
Their gazes met.
With a look of horror and embarrassment on her features, she turned and fled the courtyard, leaving him alone.
He whispered to her as she vanished, “Goodbye.”
Tiana aka Bofur: Scarlett hit the play button on her iPod and the solemn music poured through the Bluetooth speakers. She lay back on her bed and let the music wash over her as she watched the trees sway in the breeze.
There was a knock on the door and Scarlett jumped from the bed.
“Who is it?” She asked.
“Will you turn that depressing music off?”
Scarlett smiled at Zev’s annoyance.
“It was just getting to the good part.” She said.
“I doubt that that sad of a song even has a good part.” Zev opened her bedroom door and strode over to her iPod. He picked it up. “How do you work this thing?”
“Hit the Twix.” She said.
“The… what…?”
Scarlett rolled her eyes and snatched it from him.
“The Twix.” She pressed the pause button.
“Oh, that Twix.”
Scarlett laughed. “Yes.”
Zev pouted. “I want a Twix now.”
Zachary aka Kili: I HAVE NOTHING!!!
Sabrina aka Legolas: Dare walked down the deserted street, warm light spilling out of the open window and onto the dank paving stones in front of him. He longingly gazed through the pane. He saw Illessa seated at the table beside Søren and opposite her was her darling little sister, Lilly.
For a moment, for one brief, warm, moment, he imagined that was him sitting by a warm fire with Illessa and Lilly. Instead of Illessa walking behind Søren and placing her hand on his shoulder, she was walking behind Dare and caressing his arm. Her hand travelled up to his shoulder until her fingers sank into the curls at the nape of his neck.
Dare’s eyes closed briefly as he strained to imagine how that might feel.
He’d never felt anything like that before.
The last time anyone had touched him—that is, touched him gently, beating him didn’t count—was when he was just a small boy and his mother had held him in her arms while his father told him a story before he was off to bed. As soon as he’d reached sixteen, he was tired of everyone in the village treating his parents with scorn at being a Kenoshian and Nørthman married couple. He figured if he went to live somewhere else, the hate might leave them and come after him instead. When he left, all physical contact ceased.
He was twenty-seven now.
That was a long time to go without a loving touch.
His eyes refocused from the happy group inside to view his reflection in the dripping glass.
He slowly pulled himself away from the warm window and back into the rainy alley struggling to force himself to come to grips with the fact that that would never be him.
Con aka Samwsie: It was a signal. 102.4% positive. Shammy had done the math. Shammy sat every night, staring at his neighbor’s window. Every other night the guy stuck the flowers up. Every other night he didn’t. It had to be a signal. Code for something.
He even had made up a chart, to make sure. It had fancy font types, and was written backwards. Made him feel more authentic.
That old codger, Gramps Oakey, was definitely some sort of illegal immigrant or something. Shammy had tried looking up his name along with the word terrorist, and he had gotten 234 results! Unfortunately, most of the people had his last name pegged wrong. It just served to guarantee Shammy’s suspicions that Gramps changed his last name with every move. He had only been living here 20 years, and the guy had to be at least 135.
And that candy he handed out. It was poisoned. Shammy was convinced of that. He had been collecting samples and shipping them to Poison Control for weeks now, but he had yet to hear back. They must be backed up. Surely they had got at least one of the eighteen packages.
Shammy grabbed his binoculars. He raised them up against the pane, into the groove he had carved into the glass. He flicked the lenses to night vision (actually, he just turned on the flashlight duct-taped to the gear), and peered through his window at the other window. The flower…it wasn’t there! Shammy almost dropped his notes as he fumbled around for them with shaking fingers, his eyes still plastered on Gramp’s window.
“Tonight’s the night, eh, Gramps?” Shammy checked the chart. Tonight the flowers should’ve been up.
Shammy slipped his homemade K-nex pistol into a pouch, sharpened up to final K-nex pieces and loaded them into his other pocket. He slipped into his black jacket, and camo pants. As a final touch, he ran a few streaks of engine oil beneath his eyes. It smarted, and his nose began running immediately, but it had to be done.
He slipped his goggles on, and slid down the steps. He was out the back door in a flash, and crouching in the shrubbery. “What are you up to, Gramps?” He asked, watching as the silhouetted form moved past the window, pausing in the light. He ran a hand across his nose, to keep it from dripping.
Just then a kid trundled past on the walk, pulling a wagon. It was late, Tommy must have gotten lost again. That kid needed a map of a the neighborhood, and possibly a guide dog as well. Shammy swore one of his big kid words under his breath, then glanced around to make sure nobody had heard him. Assured his mouth was safe from a bubbly bath, he dove out of the shrubbery and ran towards Tommy. Gramps probably had a mine planted nearby. He tackled the kid, and pinned him to the ground. “Don’t move Tommy! I’m saving your life!”
The kid’s eyes were the size of tomatoes.
Shammy raised up his pistol, and slipped one of the sharpened K-nex into it. And then he noticed the flowers were back in the window. He groaned. “Drat it, still not the night.”
“Can you…get off me?” Tommy asked, as if fearful to make a request of the maniac sitting atop him.
“You’re welcome.” Shammy stood up, and helped Tommy to his feet. “Be careful, there might be mines under the sidewalk.”
The little guy stood up unsteadily, cast a glance at Shammy, and then dashed down the street, his wagon bouncing along behind him, totally ignoring Shammy’s well-meant warning.
“I’ll get you yet, Gramps!” Shammy shook his fist at the house. He by accident squeezed the trigger, and his gun spluttered and coughed out the K-nex. Shammy stuffed it in his pocket, and headed back upstairs to continue his vigil. And maybe to redesign his weaponry.
Maria #2 aka Fili: The bouquet of flowers were still in her front window. Evan sighed. They still looked as vibrant as they had yesterday and the day before. Maybe someone had died? People didn’t usually bring home giant bouquets while crying. He glanced around, checking on the kids playing baskteball down the street. Still rowdy, still preoccupied. It was better if no one realized he was staring at her house.
There were roses in the mix, which didn’t quiet add up for a funeral. Usually people picked something simple and pretty, lillies, ferns and carnations. Multicolored roses didn’t make a whole bunch of sense, unless he was missing something. She didn’t go out and buy herself flowers, and the only kind of living plants in her lot were bushes and wild dandelions. He could be missing something, but he had all his information, he’d collected it so carefully, not to mention what he’d already had to begin with.
“Hello!”
Evan turned quickly on instinct, and smiled generously at the stranger walking their dog.
“Hello,” He reached down to stroke the small spaniel panting at the end of their leash. “Sweet dog.”
“If you lived with him,” The young woman grimaced. “He’s a ruckus.”
Evan chuckled, straightening up. “How old is he?”
“About eleven weeks.” She clucked her tongue and yanked on the leash, pulling the exuberant dog into a sit next to her. “My boyfriend bought him and then, for some reason, decided it was a good time to disappear.” She rolled her eyes.
“Ah. I see.” Evan nodded. People around this neighborhood seemed a bit too apt to unusual circumstances. Cause trouble and a whole bunch of other people would gather in the same spot. He glanced across the street, a movement in the corner of his eye directing it.
“Oh, Lily Reebeck.” The woman holding the dog rolled her eyes. “If I hadn’t known any better I’d say she stole my prospects right out from under my nose. But she’s-” She whirled her finger by her temple. “A little out of it.”
“Oh.” Evan let a mildly surprised look cover his face. He’d seen plenty of pictures of her, but you couldn’t really gather information about the reputation of a woman who stayed inside 24/7. For all Evan and the agency knew, she’d never even met anyone in the neighborhood. “You know her?”
The woman looked at him as if he were sprouting an ugly look. “Yeah. A lot of people do. You don’t live around here, do you?”
Even sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m afraid not.”
Luke aka Merry: I paced around, waiting for Mom and Dad.
“Wow it must have been nice to own such a nice house, without having to worry that Syqaen military pounding on your door, demanding to search your house” I thought.
“I hate having to move every other week” I said, tracing figures with my foot.
“Ellie, time to go” Mom voice called from the kitchen.
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Gianna shifted her mug of hot cocoa to the other hand as she tucked her feet beneath her on the couch. “I don’t know what’s worse,” she said, “the fact that I have to leave again or the fact that I have to go back to that awful place.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Sebastian said from where he was sitting on the floor. His was a disembodied voice, shrouded as the room was in darkness. The only light came from the patio outside, and the only thing it illuminated was a hanging pot of dying roses.
“Oh yes it can.” Gianna sighed. “At least I only have to stay there one more semester. I’m getting out of there as soon as I can.”
Antonio was lounging on the other half of the couch, watching videos on his phone. “Don’t be so eager to grow up, Gianna. You’ll never be in high school again, you know.”
“So much the better,” she said.
The grandfather clock in the entryway chimed eleven. Gianna drained her cup, set it on the coffee table, and stood up. “I should be going.”
“It’s weird that you’re here but not next door,” Sebastian said as he also stood. “But before you go, I have to tell you something.” He pulled her into the hallway, away from Antonio’s video noises.
“Something happened here a while ago that no one told you about,” he said in almost a whisper.
“What?”
“Sh. You remember when Tony’s parents came?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well just over a month ago, he got a phonecall from them. They’re in prison now. They have no idea when they’ll be out.”
“Prison? So the Swiss police caught up to them?”
“Mhmm. Tony’s convinced they were tipped off by someone. But anyway, that’s why he’s been a little…not himself.”
They heard Antonio clearing his throat from the den. “If you want to talk in private, go somewhere I can’t hear you.”
Tiana aka Bofur: Zev marched through the trees in ankle deep puddles.
‘Just few more minutes.’ He told himself. ‘Just a little longer.’
Before long, but not before he was drenched from head to foot, he came upon Scarlett’s grandma’s cabin.
“Finally.” He sighed.
He circled around to the door and was about to knock when a loud clap of thunder drowned out every sound. Figuring they wouldn’t hear the knock he went around to one of the glowing windows. A basket of flowers hung in from a hook and beyond it he saw Scarlett and her grandma sitting at the table surrounded by candles and oil lamps.
Rain trickled down his neck and he shivered. Lifting a hand to the glass he knocked. At first they didn’t hear him, so he knocked again.
Scarlett turned and walked over to the window.
He looked at her with the best imitation of a puppy’s beg he could.
“Please let me in.”
Zachary aka Kili: “We need to get a closer look.” I said, not noticing the Germans that were creeping up behind us. “Hands in ze air, Amerikaner!” Peter and I stood up, as he arrested us. They grabbed us, and shoved us into the back of a truck, with a few German soldiers. They sat by the opening in the back, so we couldn’t jump out. “Where are you taking us?” The soldiers just looked at us. It was clear they didn’t understand English. “I took German in high school. I’ll talk to them.” Peter said. He asked them where they were taking us. “Haftling Von Krieg Lager durch Hamilburg. Luft Stammlager 13.” “A Prisoner of War camp. Stammlager 13.” “Oh boy…” on the way, we passed by many houses. Each one I looked into, I saw my own house, back home. With a plant pot in the window ceil, that my mom would put seeds in every year, on the New Year, showing how we can grow through the New Year, or something like that.
For a moment, for one brief, warm, moment, he imagined that was him sitting by a warm fire with Illessa and Lilly. Instead of Illessa walking behind Søren and placing her hand on his shoulder, she was walking behind Dare and caressing his arm. Her hand travelled up to his shoulder until her fingers sank into the curls at the nape of his neck.
Dare’s eyes closed briefly as he strained to imagine how that might feel.
He’d never felt anything like that before.
The last time anyone had touched him—that is, touched him gently, beating him didn’t count—was when he was just a small boy and his mother had held him in her arms while his father told him a story before he was off to bed. As soon as he’d reached sixteen, he was tired of everyone in the village treating his parents with scorn at being a Kenoshian and Nørthman married couple. He figured if he went to live somewhere else, the hate might leave them and come after him instead. When he left, all physical contact ceased.
He was twenty-seven now.
That was a long time to go without a loving touch.
His eyes refocused from the happy group inside to view his reflection in the dripping glass.
He slowly pulled himself away from the warm window and back into the rainy alley struggling to force himself to come to grips with the fact that that would never be him.
Con aka Samwsie: It was a signal. 102.4% positive. Shammy had done the math. Shammy sat every night, staring at his neighbor’s window. Every other night the guy stuck the flowers up. Every other night he didn’t. It had to be a signal. Code for something.
He even had made up a chart, to make sure. It had fancy font types, and was written backwards. Made him feel more authentic.
That old codger, Gramps Oakey, was definitely some sort of illegal immigrant or something. Shammy had tried looking up his name along with the word terrorist, and he had gotten 234 results! Unfortunately, most of the people had his last name pegged wrong. It just served to guarantee Shammy’s suspicions that Gramps changed his last name with every move. He had only been living here 20 years, and the guy had to be at least 135.
And that candy he handed out. It was poisoned. Shammy was convinced of that. He had been collecting samples and shipping them to Poison Control for weeks now, but he had yet to hear back. They must be backed up. Surely they had got at least one of the eighteen packages.
Shammy grabbed his binoculars. He raised them up against the pane, into the groove he had carved into the glass. He flicked the lenses to night vision (actually, he just turned on the flashlight duct-taped to the gear), and peered through his window at the other window. The flower…it wasn’t there! Shammy almost dropped his notes as he fumbled around for them with shaking fingers, his eyes still plastered on Gramp’s window.
“Tonight’s the night, eh, Gramps?” Shammy checked the chart. Tonight the flowers should’ve been up.
Shammy slipped his homemade K-nex pistol into a pouch, sharpened up to final K-nex pieces and loaded them into his other pocket. He slipped into his black jacket, and camo pants. As a final touch, he ran a few streaks of engine oil beneath his eyes. It smarted, and his nose began running immediately, but it had to be done.
He slipped his goggles on, and slid down the steps. He was out the back door in a flash, and crouching in the shrubbery. “What are you up to, Gramps?” He asked, watching as the silhouetted form moved past the window, pausing in the light. He ran a hand across his nose, to keep it from dripping.
Just then a kid trundled past on the walk, pulling a wagon. It was late, Tommy must have gotten lost again. That kid needed a map of a the neighborhood, and possibly a guide dog as well. Shammy swore one of his big kid words under his breath, then glanced around to make sure nobody had heard him. Assured his mouth was safe from a bubbly bath, he dove out of the shrubbery and ran towards Tommy. Gramps probably had a mine planted nearby. He tackled the kid, and pinned him to the ground. “Don’t move Tommy! I’m saving your life!”
The kid’s eyes were the size of tomatoes.
Shammy raised up his pistol, and slipped one of the sharpened K-nex into it. And then he noticed the flowers were back in the window. He groaned. “Drat it, still not the night.”
“Can you…get off me?” Tommy asked, as if fearful to make a request of the maniac sitting atop him.
“You’re welcome.” Shammy stood up, and helped Tommy to his feet. “Be careful, there might be mines under the sidewalk.”
The little guy stood up unsteadily, cast a glance at Shammy, and then dashed down the street, his wagon bouncing along behind him, totally ignoring Shammy’s well-meant warning.
“I’ll get you yet, Gramps!” Shammy shook his fist at the house. He by accident squeezed the trigger, and his gun spluttered and coughed out the K-nex. Shammy stuffed it in his pocket, and headed back upstairs to continue his vigil. And maybe to redesign his weaponry.
Maria #2 aka Fili: The bouquet of flowers were still in her front window. Evan sighed. They still looked as vibrant as they had yesterday and the day before. Maybe someone had died? People didn’t usually bring home giant bouquets while crying. He glanced around, checking on the kids playing baskteball down the street. Still rowdy, still preoccupied. It was better if no one realized he was staring at her house.
There were roses in the mix, which didn’t quiet add up for a funeral. Usually people picked something simple and pretty, lillies, ferns and carnations. Multicolored roses didn’t make a whole bunch of sense, unless he was missing something. She didn’t go out and buy herself flowers, and the only kind of living plants in her lot were bushes and wild dandelions. He could be missing something, but he had all his information, he’d collected it so carefully, not to mention what he’d already had to begin with.
“Hello!”
Evan turned quickly on instinct, and smiled generously at the stranger walking their dog.
“Hello,” He reached down to stroke the small spaniel panting at the end of their leash. “Sweet dog.”
“If you lived with him,” The young woman grimaced. “He’s a ruckus.”
Evan chuckled, straightening up. “How old is he?”
“About eleven weeks.” She clucked her tongue and yanked on the leash, pulling the exuberant dog into a sit next to her. “My boyfriend bought him and then, for some reason, decided it was a good time to disappear.” She rolled her eyes.
“Ah. I see.” Evan nodded. People around this neighborhood seemed a bit too apt to unusual circumstances. Cause trouble and a whole bunch of other people would gather in the same spot. He glanced across the street, a movement in the corner of his eye directing it.
“Oh, Lily Reebeck.” The woman holding the dog rolled her eyes. “If I hadn’t known any better I’d say she stole my prospects right out from under my nose. But she’s-” She whirled her finger by her temple. “A little out of it.”
“Oh.” Evan let a mildly surprised look cover his face. He’d seen plenty of pictures of her, but you couldn’t really gather information about the reputation of a woman who stayed inside 24/7. For all Evan and the agency knew, she’d never even met anyone in the neighborhood. “You know her?”
The woman looked at him as if he were sprouting an ugly look. “Yeah. A lot of people do. You don’t live around here, do you?”
Even sighed, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m afraid not.”
Luke aka Merry: I paced around, waiting for Mom and Dad.
“Wow it must have been nice to own such a nice house, without having to worry that Syqaen military pounding on your door, demanding to search your house” I thought.
“I hate having to move every other week” I said, tracing figures with my foot.
“Ellie, time to go” Mom voice called from the kitchen.
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Gianna shifted her mug of hot cocoa to the other hand as she tucked her feet beneath her on the couch. “I don’t know what’s worse,” she said, “the fact that I have to leave again or the fact that I have to go back to that awful place.”
“It can’t be that bad,” Sebastian said from where he was sitting on the floor. His was a disembodied voice, shrouded as the room was in darkness. The only light came from the patio outside, and the only thing it illuminated was a hanging pot of dying roses.
“Oh yes it can.” Gianna sighed. “At least I only have to stay there one more semester. I’m getting out of there as soon as I can.”
Antonio was lounging on the other half of the couch, watching videos on his phone. “Don’t be so eager to grow up, Gianna. You’ll never be in high school again, you know.”
“So much the better,” she said.
The grandfather clock in the entryway chimed eleven. Gianna drained her cup, set it on the coffee table, and stood up. “I should be going.”
“It’s weird that you’re here but not next door,” Sebastian said as he also stood. “But before you go, I have to tell you something.” He pulled her into the hallway, away from Antonio’s video noises.
“Something happened here a while ago that no one told you about,” he said in almost a whisper.
“What?”
“Sh. You remember when Tony’s parents came?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well just over a month ago, he got a phonecall from them. They’re in prison now. They have no idea when they’ll be out.”
“Prison? So the Swiss police caught up to them?”
“Mhmm. Tony’s convinced they were tipped off by someone. But anyway, that’s why he’s been a little…not himself.”
They heard Antonio clearing his throat from the den. “If you want to talk in private, go somewhere I can’t hear you.”
Tiana aka Bofur: Zev marched through the trees in ankle deep puddles.
‘Just few more minutes.’ He told himself. ‘Just a little longer.’
Before long, but not before he was drenched from head to foot, he came upon Scarlett’s grandma’s cabin.
“Finally.” He sighed.
He circled around to the door and was about to knock when a loud clap of thunder drowned out every sound. Figuring they wouldn’t hear the knock he went around to one of the glowing windows. A basket of flowers hung in from a hook and beyond it he saw Scarlett and her grandma sitting at the table surrounded by candles and oil lamps.
Rain trickled down his neck and he shivered. Lifting a hand to the glass he knocked. At first they didn’t hear him, so he knocked again.
Scarlett turned and walked over to the window.
He looked at her with the best imitation of a puppy’s beg he could.
“Please let me in.”
Zachary aka Kili: “We need to get a closer look.” I said, not noticing the Germans that were creeping up behind us. “Hands in ze air, Amerikaner!” Peter and I stood up, as he arrested us. They grabbed us, and shoved us into the back of a truck, with a few German soldiers. They sat by the opening in the back, so we couldn’t jump out. “Where are you taking us?” The soldiers just looked at us. It was clear they didn’t understand English. “I took German in high school. I’ll talk to them.” Peter said. He asked them where they were taking us. “Haftling Von Krieg Lager durch Hamilburg. Luft Stammlager 13.” “A Prisoner of War camp. Stammlager 13.” “Oh boy…” on the way, we passed by many houses. Each one I looked into, I saw my own house, back home. With a plant pot in the window ceil, that my mom would put seeds in every year, on the New Year, showing how we can grow through the New Year, or something like that.
Clarissa aka Bifur: Ariana gazed up as she walked along the courtyard’s cobbled path. So many choices…decisions…paths to take. Not that it mattered much as she had no say in what her future would be. Still…she was allowed to dream a little wasn’t she? As the only child of the king and queen, Ariana knew she was bound to be married, and not just to anyone. No…she was about to become the bride to Sir Andrew or Sir Edward, the sons of the king and queen of the next kingdom over. “However,” Ariana thought, “I’d rather be out in the woods, riding Destiny while ducking under the low hanging branches of the forest. Marriage would just tie me down…unless I had an understand husband, like Darwin. He would let me go off for a few days and have somewhat of an adventure. Besides, Darwin was definitely way better looking than Andrew and Edward put together!” Ariana’s thoughts were pierced by the sound of a horn. Groaning inwardly, Ariana quickened her pace and started back to the palace. “Maybe, just maybe I’ll speak up about this injustice.”
Con aka Samwise: “For heaven’s sakes, Corinth, keep your distance!” Pri almost screamed.
Corinth backed off two feet, mostly because of the blunt force of the yell. “What was I doing wrong, Princess?”
“Want me to make a list?” She growled, moving off along the lawn, walking fast enough to hopefully leave him behind. He was not to be deferred.
“I am highly grieved that I offended you.” He tried placating her. He reached for arm. “I just want to be near you!”
“To keep me from escaping again, eh?” Princess calmly dodged his grasp, gripped his wrist, and rammed it into the tower wall. He grimaced in pain as all his knuckles let out a loud crack.
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t like that sound?”
He shrugged. “It is not my favorite.”
She raised up a hand, and bent her pinky finger to the right. It emitted a rather loud crack.
He winced.
She bent it forward. Another crack.
His eyes closed in concentration as he tried to shut the noise out.
She bent it backwards. A third.
He emitted a moan.
“And I have nine more fingers.” She said brightly. “Shall we continue?”
“If you wish, m’lady.” Corinth said, gentlemanly.
“Flippin’ fish fries.” Pri muttered. “You take the fun out of everything.”
“Not my intention.” Corinth quickly protested. “I live only to…”
She shoved him into the nearby pond. She watched as bubbles slowly rose up out of the water, and then his thrashing form. “Okay, you’re forgiven.”
She turned quickly, and made good her escape.
The little troll trundled up. “SWIMMING WITH FISHES NOT GOOD. THEY BITE TOES.”
Corinth spluttered helplessly.
“DID PRI SHOVE YOU IN?”
“Yes.” Corinth said, sadly.
“HEH HEH, VERY FUNNY PRI!” The little chortled as he called after her. “OKAY, BUDDY, NEED HELP GETTING OUT? MY SYMPATHIES ON GETTING SHOVED IN.”
“God helps those who help themselves.” Corinth muttered as he heaved himself out. “Let me go sulk.”
Maria #2 aka Fili: “My dear,” the King purred, guiding her with a firm hand on her elbow. “You’ve barely explored even an inch of the castle. Why don’t you come inside?”
Erica gave her father a withering look, but didn;t dare pull her arm out of his grasp. “Thank you. I’d rather take a day in the gardens.”
The King’s eyes flashed silver, his fake smile twitching. “Very well. Fetch a servant when you’d like to come in. I’ll be waiting.” His hand slid from her forearm and he strode back towards the castle, his gait long and smooth.
Erica watched him go with pursed lips and clasped hands. As soon as the gate clanged shut she turned and followed the pebble path into the garden maze. The walls of greenery rose just past her elbows, and ivy flirted along the path she walked. She passed through the shadow of the turret, a cold chill travelling down her back. The King was watching. Always.
The pearly silk dress fit her in all unfamiliar ways, constricting where she was used to freedom and freeing the space she was used to having bound. Her feet crackled on the smooth pebbles, strikingly familiar against the thick calouses. Her heart twisted, turning painfully as her thoughts roamed freely. The war was happening. Right this very minute people were dying, Sebastian was killing and she was sitting in a garden wearing a ridiculous outfit unable to do anything. She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers into the corners to keep from crying in frustration. That wouldn’t do. Weakness in this place was like blood in an ocean swarming with hungry sharks. Erica took a deep breath, swallowing the small ribbon of fear that crept into her throat. She might not be able to do much, but at least she could watch the King. Make sure he didn’t make any sudden moves. There wasn’t any way to get a message to Silvia and Quinn, but if the need arose she would find some way to contact them. Her jaw clenched. It wouldn’t be the first time she stole one of the royal chargers, and probably not the last, if the King was as keen to keep her for future courtiers. And Sebastian. Her eyes prickled treacherously. She doubted she could do anything about him from here. She could only hope Quinn would be able to change his mind, or at least keep him somewhere he couldn’t do any more damage.
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Midsummer’s Eve was a great festival back home. Here, it was just another day. Helena, dressed all in white according to Samedian custom, wandered through the courtyard. She considered in passing what would happen if the king knew how bored she was most of the time. Probably he would do nothing about it. But then again, an idle princess meant a princess with time to make mischief. And that was the last thing Taklos needed at the moment.
Little Mechtild scurried through the courtyard on her way to the laundry. Helena stopped her with a wave of her hand. The maid approached and curtseyed. “Yes, your highness?”
“Do you know where the prince is?” Helena asked, eyeing one of the third-floor windows.
“No, ma’am. Last I saw his highness was early this morning. He was preparing for a journey. Is he not back yet?”
“I think not. Where did he go?”
Mechtild shrugged. “I’m as ignorant as you, ma’am.” She re-shouldered her bundle and continued her way to the laundry.
Helena glanced around and assessed the wall opposite her. It had a ladder built in that led up to the tower, probably for guards. She tiptoed over to the ladder, tied her skirt, and climbed it.
From the top, she could see over the fortress wall and out over the lands below. Strip-farmed fields were scattered like birdseed among brooks and arbors. A few miles off was the first minuscule town, and a few miles beyond that was the next.
Helena looked down. It was a sheer drop to the ground three stories below. She wondered what the reaction would be if she hurled herself down and died. It would be a way out of captivity. But no; she could never do that to Father.
“Hey! Princess!”
She started and almost lost her footing. Twisting around with a firm grip on the ladder, she could see a hand waving from a window across the courtyard.
“What are you doing up there?” the prince asked.
“Looking for you,” she called back. She scrambled down as quickly as she could and motioned for him to come out. “Mechtild thought you were out.”
“So did everyone else, I think,” he said, fingering his mustache. “No one’s brought me any lunch.”
Helena rolled her eyes. “Your own fault for being so secretive.”
Conan’s head disappeared and Helena drifted around the courtyard for ten more minutes before he came out to join her. “What do you say we sit down to a meal before committing suicide?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t actually considering it.”
“Oh, I know. You’re too saintly for that. But despite your holiness, you are human. And therefore have a stomach. Shall we?”
He offered an arm and they returned inside.
Tiana aka Bofur: Nero watched as Zephyra walked through the palace courtyard. He had to get her back to Robin, but there were to many stupid guards.
Something tugged on his pant leg.
He looked down.
“Hi,” Yauna waved up at him.
“What are you doing here?!” He whispered.
“Watching you.” She said climbing into the tree beside him. “What are you doing here?” Yauna looked into the courtyard. “Are you a peeping tom?” She gasped.
Nero rolled his eyes. “No, I am trying to get Robin Hood’s daughter back to him.”
“Robin Hood?!” Yauna’s eyes widened. “You know Robin Hood?”
“You know his daughter.” Nero pointed out.
“I do?!” She squeaked.
Nero pointed to Zephyra.
“She is Robin Hood’s daughter?!”
“Yes…” Nero nodded slowly. “You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Yauna breathed. “I’m only seven, I don’t get told anything.”
Nero smiled. “What a minute how did you get out here?” He looked around at the tall castle walls.
“Through that door over there.” She pointed.
“What door?”
“I’ll show you.” She jumped down from the tree. “But only if you talk me with you, I don’t want to spend another day in Prince John’s stinking castle.”
Nero chuckled. “Alright, you can come, I know some young boys who would love to have a beautiful maiden to rescue in their games.” He winked.
Yauna beamed at him. “Yay!” She bounded off to a place in the palace wall overgrown with vines. “Here it is.” She said.
“Where?”
“Right here.” She pulled on a hidden handle and an old forgotten door slowly opened.
Sabrina aka Legolas: Kaydra stood pensively in the castle courtyard. A gentle breeze wafted around her, gently combing through her hair. The fabric of her dress rustled softly. There were knights milling around at the opposite side of the courtyard. Sir Luke looked up from his horse and gave her a sympathetic look.
The attack on the castle had been her fault. The capture of her father was her fault. Hayden being imprisoned in the dungeon under guard was her fault. Hayden’s execution scheduled for dawn was her fault. The Nørthmen winning the war was her fault. Sir Patrick’s death was her fault.
It would have been harder to find an event that hadn’t been her fault.
She started off at a brisk pace across the courtyard to the barred entrance to the dungeon corridors circling under the castle. Prying the iron gate open, she slipped inside, closing the door with a clang.
Her shoes clicked on the stone stairs, the sound echoing down the twisting staircase as she descended.
She had to speak to Hayden. She had to fix this.
But she couldn’t do it alone.
Zachary aka Kili: “We can’t let them take us. We’ve got a mission.” “Agreed, but what can we do?” “We could kick them out of the truck!” “Ruhig, Amerikaner!” “He said ‘Quiet, Americans!’” “On 3… 1... 2… 3!” We kicked them out of the truck, as the Tubcar behind us swerved to dodge them. It crashed into a building. We jumped out, and ran to the enemy driving our Jeep behind us. One of the Germans was gunning the M2 mounted on Rocky. He aimed right at us, and pulled the triggers. It made a clicking sound. “Thanks, Rocky!” I said, jumping into the Jeep, and punching the gunner. “You get the driver!” I shouted to Peter. The guard reached for his Luger pistol, and Peter kicked it out of his hands. I threw him his M1911 handgun, which was in the back along with our other equipment, and we sped off. I stood at the Machin gun. And unjammed it. “Boy, Rocky really saved our butts there!” “Yeah, it’s nice that he made the M2 jam.” I said, winking. “Thank the Lord!” Peter said. The German civilians watched helplessly as we sped out of the city. There was a blockade set up in front of us. German soldiers sat there, with Machineguns and rifles. I aimed, and fired my machinegun, taking each of them out. We hit a few boards at full speed, and we jumped through the air! I saw a German woman look at us, and Peter winked at her. “Peter, no flirting with the enemy!” I said with a chuckle. “Aww man, when did that become a rule?” He said with a wink.
Con aka Samwise: “For heaven’s sakes, Corinth, keep your distance!” Pri almost screamed.
Corinth backed off two feet, mostly because of the blunt force of the yell. “What was I doing wrong, Princess?”
“Want me to make a list?” She growled, moving off along the lawn, walking fast enough to hopefully leave him behind. He was not to be deferred.
“I am highly grieved that I offended you.” He tried placating her. He reached for arm. “I just want to be near you!”
“To keep me from escaping again, eh?” Princess calmly dodged his grasp, gripped his wrist, and rammed it into the tower wall. He grimaced in pain as all his knuckles let out a loud crack.
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t like that sound?”
He shrugged. “It is not my favorite.”
She raised up a hand, and bent her pinky finger to the right. It emitted a rather loud crack.
He winced.
She bent it forward. Another crack.
His eyes closed in concentration as he tried to shut the noise out.
She bent it backwards. A third.
He emitted a moan.
“And I have nine more fingers.” She said brightly. “Shall we continue?”
“If you wish, m’lady.” Corinth said, gentlemanly.
“Flippin’ fish fries.” Pri muttered. “You take the fun out of everything.”
“Not my intention.” Corinth quickly protested. “I live only to…”
She shoved him into the nearby pond. She watched as bubbles slowly rose up out of the water, and then his thrashing form. “Okay, you’re forgiven.”
She turned quickly, and made good her escape.
The little troll trundled up. “SWIMMING WITH FISHES NOT GOOD. THEY BITE TOES.”
Corinth spluttered helplessly.
“DID PRI SHOVE YOU IN?”
“Yes.” Corinth said, sadly.
“HEH HEH, VERY FUNNY PRI!” The little chortled as he called after her. “OKAY, BUDDY, NEED HELP GETTING OUT? MY SYMPATHIES ON GETTING SHOVED IN.”
“God helps those who help themselves.” Corinth muttered as he heaved himself out. “Let me go sulk.”
Maria #2 aka Fili: “My dear,” the King purred, guiding her with a firm hand on her elbow. “You’ve barely explored even an inch of the castle. Why don’t you come inside?”
Erica gave her father a withering look, but didn;t dare pull her arm out of his grasp. “Thank you. I’d rather take a day in the gardens.”
The King’s eyes flashed silver, his fake smile twitching. “Very well. Fetch a servant when you’d like to come in. I’ll be waiting.” His hand slid from her forearm and he strode back towards the castle, his gait long and smooth.
Erica watched him go with pursed lips and clasped hands. As soon as the gate clanged shut she turned and followed the pebble path into the garden maze. The walls of greenery rose just past her elbows, and ivy flirted along the path she walked. She passed through the shadow of the turret, a cold chill travelling down her back. The King was watching. Always.
The pearly silk dress fit her in all unfamiliar ways, constricting where she was used to freedom and freeing the space she was used to having bound. Her feet crackled on the smooth pebbles, strikingly familiar against the thick calouses. Her heart twisted, turning painfully as her thoughts roamed freely. The war was happening. Right this very minute people were dying, Sebastian was killing and she was sitting in a garden wearing a ridiculous outfit unable to do anything. She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers into the corners to keep from crying in frustration. That wouldn’t do. Weakness in this place was like blood in an ocean swarming with hungry sharks. Erica took a deep breath, swallowing the small ribbon of fear that crept into her throat. She might not be able to do much, but at least she could watch the King. Make sure he didn’t make any sudden moves. There wasn’t any way to get a message to Silvia and Quinn, but if the need arose she would find some way to contact them. Her jaw clenched. It wouldn’t be the first time she stole one of the royal chargers, and probably not the last, if the King was as keen to keep her for future courtiers. And Sebastian. Her eyes prickled treacherously. She doubted she could do anything about him from here. She could only hope Quinn would be able to change his mind, or at least keep him somewhere he couldn’t do any more damage.
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Midsummer’s Eve was a great festival back home. Here, it was just another day. Helena, dressed all in white according to Samedian custom, wandered through the courtyard. She considered in passing what would happen if the king knew how bored she was most of the time. Probably he would do nothing about it. But then again, an idle princess meant a princess with time to make mischief. And that was the last thing Taklos needed at the moment.
Little Mechtild scurried through the courtyard on her way to the laundry. Helena stopped her with a wave of her hand. The maid approached and curtseyed. “Yes, your highness?”
“Do you know where the prince is?” Helena asked, eyeing one of the third-floor windows.
“No, ma’am. Last I saw his highness was early this morning. He was preparing for a journey. Is he not back yet?”
“I think not. Where did he go?”
Mechtild shrugged. “I’m as ignorant as you, ma’am.” She re-shouldered her bundle and continued her way to the laundry.
Helena glanced around and assessed the wall opposite her. It had a ladder built in that led up to the tower, probably for guards. She tiptoed over to the ladder, tied her skirt, and climbed it.
From the top, she could see over the fortress wall and out over the lands below. Strip-farmed fields were scattered like birdseed among brooks and arbors. A few miles off was the first minuscule town, and a few miles beyond that was the next.
Helena looked down. It was a sheer drop to the ground three stories below. She wondered what the reaction would be if she hurled herself down and died. It would be a way out of captivity. But no; she could never do that to Father.
“Hey! Princess!”
She started and almost lost her footing. Twisting around with a firm grip on the ladder, she could see a hand waving from a window across the courtyard.
“What are you doing up there?” the prince asked.
“Looking for you,” she called back. She scrambled down as quickly as she could and motioned for him to come out. “Mechtild thought you were out.”
“So did everyone else, I think,” he said, fingering his mustache. “No one’s brought me any lunch.”
Helena rolled her eyes. “Your own fault for being so secretive.”
Conan’s head disappeared and Helena drifted around the courtyard for ten more minutes before he came out to join her. “What do you say we sit down to a meal before committing suicide?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t actually considering it.”
“Oh, I know. You’re too saintly for that. But despite your holiness, you are human. And therefore have a stomach. Shall we?”
He offered an arm and they returned inside.
Tiana aka Bofur: Nero watched as Zephyra walked through the palace courtyard. He had to get her back to Robin, but there were to many stupid guards.
Something tugged on his pant leg.
He looked down.
“Hi,” Yauna waved up at him.
“What are you doing here?!” He whispered.
“Watching you.” She said climbing into the tree beside him. “What are you doing here?” Yauna looked into the courtyard. “Are you a peeping tom?” She gasped.
Nero rolled his eyes. “No, I am trying to get Robin Hood’s daughter back to him.”
“Robin Hood?!” Yauna’s eyes widened. “You know Robin Hood?”
“You know his daughter.” Nero pointed out.
“I do?!” She squeaked.
Nero pointed to Zephyra.
“She is Robin Hood’s daughter?!”
“Yes…” Nero nodded slowly. “You didn’t know that?”
“No,” Yauna breathed. “I’m only seven, I don’t get told anything.”
Nero smiled. “What a minute how did you get out here?” He looked around at the tall castle walls.
“Through that door over there.” She pointed.
“What door?”
“I’ll show you.” She jumped down from the tree. “But only if you talk me with you, I don’t want to spend another day in Prince John’s stinking castle.”
Nero chuckled. “Alright, you can come, I know some young boys who would love to have a beautiful maiden to rescue in their games.” He winked.
Yauna beamed at him. “Yay!” She bounded off to a place in the palace wall overgrown with vines. “Here it is.” She said.
“Where?”
“Right here.” She pulled on a hidden handle and an old forgotten door slowly opened.
Sabrina aka Legolas: Kaydra stood pensively in the castle courtyard. A gentle breeze wafted around her, gently combing through her hair. The fabric of her dress rustled softly. There were knights milling around at the opposite side of the courtyard. Sir Luke looked up from his horse and gave her a sympathetic look.
The attack on the castle had been her fault. The capture of her father was her fault. Hayden being imprisoned in the dungeon under guard was her fault. Hayden’s execution scheduled for dawn was her fault. The Nørthmen winning the war was her fault. Sir Patrick’s death was her fault.
It would have been harder to find an event that hadn’t been her fault.
She started off at a brisk pace across the courtyard to the barred entrance to the dungeon corridors circling under the castle. Prying the iron gate open, she slipped inside, closing the door with a clang.
Her shoes clicked on the stone stairs, the sound echoing down the twisting staircase as she descended.
She had to speak to Hayden. She had to fix this.
But she couldn’t do it alone.
Zachary aka Kili: “We can’t let them take us. We’ve got a mission.” “Agreed, but what can we do?” “We could kick them out of the truck!” “Ruhig, Amerikaner!” “He said ‘Quiet, Americans!’” “On 3… 1... 2… 3!” We kicked them out of the truck, as the Tubcar behind us swerved to dodge them. It crashed into a building. We jumped out, and ran to the enemy driving our Jeep behind us. One of the Germans was gunning the M2 mounted on Rocky. He aimed right at us, and pulled the triggers. It made a clicking sound. “Thanks, Rocky!” I said, jumping into the Jeep, and punching the gunner. “You get the driver!” I shouted to Peter. The guard reached for his Luger pistol, and Peter kicked it out of his hands. I threw him his M1911 handgun, which was in the back along with our other equipment, and we sped off. I stood at the Machin gun. And unjammed it. “Boy, Rocky really saved our butts there!” “Yeah, it’s nice that he made the M2 jam.” I said, winking. “Thank the Lord!” Peter said. The German civilians watched helplessly as we sped out of the city. There was a blockade set up in front of us. German soldiers sat there, with Machineguns and rifles. I aimed, and fired my machinegun, taking each of them out. We hit a few boards at full speed, and we jumped through the air! I saw a German woman look at us, and Peter winked at her. “Peter, no flirting with the enemy!” I said with a chuckle. “Aww man, when did that become a rule?” He said with a wink.
Clarissa aka Bifur: Hannah looked up to see her little sister, Nadine, out jumping in puddles. A smile broke though the frustrated frown that had once held a place on Hannah’s face. Who knew so much joy could come from a dirty puddle of rainwater? Hannah stared longingly at the little girl, and wished she could be outside instead of doing calculus homework. “I wonder what goes on in Nadine’s mind?” Hannah thought as she closed the shade and began to focus on the jumble of figures in front of her. “Hi-yah!!” Nadine shouted as she leapt across the gaping hole left by the fleeting dragon. Perspiration dampened her forehead and she brushed the woolen glove across it. Up ahead Nadine could see mountains and waterfalls…it would be an arduous journey. Suddenly painful sparks hit Nadine and she ran to escape them. Eyeing a large castle, Nadine raced to the door and pounded on it…getting no answer, she ran to find a window, spotting the dragon close behind her. Nadine turned the corner and saw the window was open a crack. She ran and shoved the window open. Nadine gazed inside and noted the armor in the corner. She crawled through the window and grabbed the armor. Heavy footsteps became apparent to Nadine and she gasped as the door swung open. Nadine closed her eyes and grimaced. Hannah jumped at the sound of a loud crack and opened the shade to discover it was hailing. She spotted Nadine running for the other end of the house and watched her evade the dog and crawl through the doggie door. Hannah got up and went to greet Nadine. As she opened the door, Hannah saw Nadine reach for their dad’s heavy yellow raincoat. “What are you up to?” Hannah inquired. Nadine turned slowly and let her grip on the coat drop. “Nothing…” Nadine replied evasively.
Tiana aka Bofur: Nero watched as Yauna splashed, very unladylikely, in the stream, with the young boys in Robin Hood’s camp. Her bare feet were covered in mud, her dress was soaked from the waist down, and her smile stretched from ear to ear.
Friar Tuck waddled up to him. He just stood there next to Nero for a while then looked up at him. Nero glanced down at the squat friar.
“Robin would like to speak with you.”
Nero swallowed.
How was he going to tell Robin that his daughter didn’t want to come back?
“Nero?” Tuck waved a hand in front of his face.
He blinked. “Sorry.”
“I take it Robin isn’t going to like the news?” Tuck lifted his bushy white brows.
“She didn’t want to come Tuck,” Nero said. “She didn’t want to come home.”
“Didn’t you tell her that her father was….!” Tuck looked around the camp nervously, he lowered his voice. “Dying?”
“I tried!” Nero exclaimed. “She thought it was just a trick to get her back!”
“I don’t know what is the matter with that girl.” Friar Tuck shook his head.
Nero sighed. “She is too much like her father.”
Con aka Samwise: It was raining. I had not imagined this happening in the rain. It would ruin my dramatic entrance. I could come back tomorrow and try again…not really. I didn’t have a place to spend the night. I mean, the nearest city probably had some hotels…but, they probably would recognize me from the newspapers.
Man hunt was ensuing. And I was famous in a bad way.
The crime was murder, five times over. It had been self-defense on each occasion, but the press didn’t think so. Actually, they probably thought so, but the NAA forced them to print my pic anyways.
I stepped into a puddle. I stared down into its watery depths, looking down at myself in it. Long, shaggy brown hair. Longer now from being ill kept. It was tangled. My hoodie hid most of it, though. My moustache was pathetic, as was the scraggly, un-cut hairs on my chin. I raised up my knife, and slit them off level with my chin.
I slipped my knife into my pouch. I had been carrying it out this entire day, prepared to use it if I had too.
I slipped my pistol further into my pocket. I hadn’t been planning on using that at all. I was still haunted by the dead behind me. I hadn’t wanted to kill them, but they had had bigger and better guns than I had.
I looked down at the smeared piece of paper in my hand, then up at the house before me. The addressed matched. I hesitated at the step. I shouldn’t get these folks involved. I shouldn’t ruin their lives, like mine was. There wasn’t much to be ruined of mine, but they had lots. They had a family. I had a lizard. They had a house. I lived in the sewer.
Even the sewer wasn’t safe anymore, though.
I stepped forward, slowly sauntering up to the door. What if the parents answered the door? What would I tell them? Heck, what would I tell my friends anyways? It had all been a lie. Every last bit of it. My faked life. My faked family. My faked job. My faked everything. The only truth I had ever told was my nickname.
I raised up a hand, and pressed the doorbell. It rang inside the house.
I glanced around the neighborhood, making sure nobody was looking at me. My fingers were still fingering my knife handle, the rest staying safely concealed in my hoodie pocket.
All of sudden, I was scared. Being hunted by police was nothing compared to facing up to your friends. Having to disappoint them. To reveal I wasn’t the guy they thought they knew. To except their criticisms about my lies, about my life.
The door opened, to reveal the girls.
“Hola.” I said. “Sorry, I need a place to spend the night…any chance you take in hobos from Skype?”
“Con…” One of them breathed.
I flicked a strand of hair out of my line of vision. “Hey, they know my name.”
Sabrina aka Legolas: “Come play with me!” Lilly called.
A smile lifted Dare’s lips as Lilly crashed and splashed through the puddles. She splished up to him with an overjoyed smile on her wan face. She reached out and took his hand.
“Please play with me, Dare!” she begged. “Pleeeease?”
Dare relented. “Alright...” Before Lilly had a chance to splash away, Dare scooped her into his arms and whooshed her through the air. Lilly giggled and kicked her legs. She was laughing so hard that Dare could feel the bubbling laughter vibrate through him infectiously.
As Dare spun Lilly around to the ground, he crossed his legs and lost his balance. With a grunt, he landed with a huge splash! into the biggest puddle in the whole courtyard.
Lilly doubled over, shrieking with laughter.
“Lilly!” Illessa cried from the doorway of their house. “Come inside this instant! You’ll catch cold!”
Lilly moaned. “But, Illessa...”
Illessa jerked her head. “No, buts.”
As Illessa came out to retrieve Lilly she tripped on the same jagged cobblestone that Dare had. With a cry, she flailed her arms as she plummeted towards him. Dare rolled to break her fall and she landed on top of him. She was half on his chest and half in the puddle, their faces only a hair’s breadth apart. Dare couldn’t tear his gaze from hers.
Illessa sputtered, seeming to be waking from a trance. “W-will you please get off of me?”
Dare looked up at her. “You are on me,” he said softly, his voice low and growling, like a purr.
Illessa reexamined her state and scrambled off of him ending up sitting with a splash in the puddle. She was still staring at him.
Dare sat up, watching her.
Lilly let out a giggle, though she tried to muffle it behind her hands, breaking Illessa’s gaze from his. She pointed to the house. “Get inside, young lady.”
With a pout, Lilly dashed to the house, jumping in every puddle on her way.
Illessa started to get to her feet but stepped on her skirt and fell back into the puddle gain.
Dare got to his feet and reached a hand down to her. She hesitated, then slipped her hand into his. It was small and the skin was smooth and soft despite how hard Illessa worked to care for her little sister.
Illessa’s brown-eyed gaze lowered, her wet lashes falling to her warm tan skin. Her cheeks were ever so slightly flushed, her wet hair framing her face. “I... uh... I better go...” she whispered.
Dare swallowed, his voice rumbling in throat. “Goodbye...”
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Splash, plop, giggle. Splash, plop, giggle. The boy would never tire of his game. He glanced up. “Mama, are you watching? Do you see the big splashes I’m making?”
“I’m watching, dear,” Charlotte said, “but we need to go home.” She glanced at the bundle in her arms. “The baby is getting wet.”
“Oh, alright.” He skipped to catch up to his mother and walked beside her, stomping in every puddle that crossed their path. He picked up a dripping leaf. “Mama, this looks like an L, for Lucy. See, Lucy, this is your leaf. Mama, how do you spell Lucy?”
“L-U-C-Y. But do hurry up, Jamie.”
“L-U-C-Y,” James chanted as he hunted in the muddy gravel for the rest of the letters that made up his little sister’s name.
By the time they arrived at home, all his clothes were wet, and he had found only the L and the U. Charlotte made him keep the leaves outside, which he almost complained about, before he remembered that she had promised him a story after she put the baby down for a nap.
On her way to the nursery, Charlotte paused by the portrait hanging in the hallway. The last she had heard from Blaise, he had been healthy—as healthy as could be expected—but hungry. How awful to know her husband was across the world going hungry, while she cared for the children and avoided talking about their father.
One day the war would end and they would be a family again. But until then, there were many days of the same loneliness and fear.
Zachary aka Kili: We sped along the country, driving at about 50 Miles per hour on the dirt road. Thankfully we had no German encounters for a while. After a while of driving, it was becoming night. We passed a girl walking along the side of the road in with her parents. She was stomping in the puddles. It broke my heart that she could die any day, and it could be because of us… at least, my side, the Allies. I thought about my own sister, oh, how I missed her. I thought of all the times I had played with her, and raced her little toy cars, that used to be mine. Once night fell, we turned into a forest, and parked Rocky there. We put the soft top up, and I laid down in the backseat. I couldn’t sleep, so I wrote a letter back home. “Dear mom and Jamie. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write. In fact, my letters will only get there when I arrive in Soviet Russia. Boy, that’s gonna be a doozy. So, by the time you’re getting this, I’ll either be dead, or I’ll have completed my mission. I am unsure of which. I’m writing this on January 10th, so tell Jamie happy late Birthday from me. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for her golden 8th birthday, but just know I’ve been thinking about you both this whole time. Well, I am when not thinking about getting shot. Anyway, I hope you all had a merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. I’ll hopefully write to you again… love, Zachary.”
Tiana aka Bofur: Nero watched as Yauna splashed, very unladylikely, in the stream, with the young boys in Robin Hood’s camp. Her bare feet were covered in mud, her dress was soaked from the waist down, and her smile stretched from ear to ear.
Friar Tuck waddled up to him. He just stood there next to Nero for a while then looked up at him. Nero glanced down at the squat friar.
“Robin would like to speak with you.”
Nero swallowed.
How was he going to tell Robin that his daughter didn’t want to come back?
“Nero?” Tuck waved a hand in front of his face.
He blinked. “Sorry.”
“I take it Robin isn’t going to like the news?” Tuck lifted his bushy white brows.
“She didn’t want to come Tuck,” Nero said. “She didn’t want to come home.”
“Didn’t you tell her that her father was….!” Tuck looked around the camp nervously, he lowered his voice. “Dying?”
“I tried!” Nero exclaimed. “She thought it was just a trick to get her back!”
“I don’t know what is the matter with that girl.” Friar Tuck shook his head.
Nero sighed. “She is too much like her father.”
Con aka Samwise: It was raining. I had not imagined this happening in the rain. It would ruin my dramatic entrance. I could come back tomorrow and try again…not really. I didn’t have a place to spend the night. I mean, the nearest city probably had some hotels…but, they probably would recognize me from the newspapers.
Man hunt was ensuing. And I was famous in a bad way.
The crime was murder, five times over. It had been self-defense on each occasion, but the press didn’t think so. Actually, they probably thought so, but the NAA forced them to print my pic anyways.
I stepped into a puddle. I stared down into its watery depths, looking down at myself in it. Long, shaggy brown hair. Longer now from being ill kept. It was tangled. My hoodie hid most of it, though. My moustache was pathetic, as was the scraggly, un-cut hairs on my chin. I raised up my knife, and slit them off level with my chin.
I slipped my knife into my pouch. I had been carrying it out this entire day, prepared to use it if I had too.
I slipped my pistol further into my pocket. I hadn’t been planning on using that at all. I was still haunted by the dead behind me. I hadn’t wanted to kill them, but they had had bigger and better guns than I had.
I looked down at the smeared piece of paper in my hand, then up at the house before me. The addressed matched. I hesitated at the step. I shouldn’t get these folks involved. I shouldn’t ruin their lives, like mine was. There wasn’t much to be ruined of mine, but they had lots. They had a family. I had a lizard. They had a house. I lived in the sewer.
Even the sewer wasn’t safe anymore, though.
I stepped forward, slowly sauntering up to the door. What if the parents answered the door? What would I tell them? Heck, what would I tell my friends anyways? It had all been a lie. Every last bit of it. My faked life. My faked family. My faked job. My faked everything. The only truth I had ever told was my nickname.
I raised up a hand, and pressed the doorbell. It rang inside the house.
I glanced around the neighborhood, making sure nobody was looking at me. My fingers were still fingering my knife handle, the rest staying safely concealed in my hoodie pocket.
All of sudden, I was scared. Being hunted by police was nothing compared to facing up to your friends. Having to disappoint them. To reveal I wasn’t the guy they thought they knew. To except their criticisms about my lies, about my life.
The door opened, to reveal the girls.
“Hola.” I said. “Sorry, I need a place to spend the night…any chance you take in hobos from Skype?”
“Con…” One of them breathed.
I flicked a strand of hair out of my line of vision. “Hey, they know my name.”
Sabrina aka Legolas: “Come play with me!” Lilly called.
A smile lifted Dare’s lips as Lilly crashed and splashed through the puddles. She splished up to him with an overjoyed smile on her wan face. She reached out and took his hand.
“Please play with me, Dare!” she begged. “Pleeeease?”
Dare relented. “Alright...” Before Lilly had a chance to splash away, Dare scooped her into his arms and whooshed her through the air. Lilly giggled and kicked her legs. She was laughing so hard that Dare could feel the bubbling laughter vibrate through him infectiously.
As Dare spun Lilly around to the ground, he crossed his legs and lost his balance. With a grunt, he landed with a huge splash! into the biggest puddle in the whole courtyard.
Lilly doubled over, shrieking with laughter.
“Lilly!” Illessa cried from the doorway of their house. “Come inside this instant! You’ll catch cold!”
Lilly moaned. “But, Illessa...”
Illessa jerked her head. “No, buts.”
As Illessa came out to retrieve Lilly she tripped on the same jagged cobblestone that Dare had. With a cry, she flailed her arms as she plummeted towards him. Dare rolled to break her fall and she landed on top of him. She was half on his chest and half in the puddle, their faces only a hair’s breadth apart. Dare couldn’t tear his gaze from hers.
Illessa sputtered, seeming to be waking from a trance. “W-will you please get off of me?”
Dare looked up at her. “You are on me,” he said softly, his voice low and growling, like a purr.
Illessa reexamined her state and scrambled off of him ending up sitting with a splash in the puddle. She was still staring at him.
Dare sat up, watching her.
Lilly let out a giggle, though she tried to muffle it behind her hands, breaking Illessa’s gaze from his. She pointed to the house. “Get inside, young lady.”
With a pout, Lilly dashed to the house, jumping in every puddle on her way.
Illessa started to get to her feet but stepped on her skirt and fell back into the puddle gain.
Dare got to his feet and reached a hand down to her. She hesitated, then slipped her hand into his. It was small and the skin was smooth and soft despite how hard Illessa worked to care for her little sister.
Illessa’s brown-eyed gaze lowered, her wet lashes falling to her warm tan skin. Her cheeks were ever so slightly flushed, her wet hair framing her face. “I... uh... I better go...” she whispered.
Dare swallowed, his voice rumbling in throat. “Goodbye...”
Maria #1 aka Pippin: Splash, plop, giggle. Splash, plop, giggle. The boy would never tire of his game. He glanced up. “Mama, are you watching? Do you see the big splashes I’m making?”
“I’m watching, dear,” Charlotte said, “but we need to go home.” She glanced at the bundle in her arms. “The baby is getting wet.”
“Oh, alright.” He skipped to catch up to his mother and walked beside her, stomping in every puddle that crossed their path. He picked up a dripping leaf. “Mama, this looks like an L, for Lucy. See, Lucy, this is your leaf. Mama, how do you spell Lucy?”
“L-U-C-Y. But do hurry up, Jamie.”
“L-U-C-Y,” James chanted as he hunted in the muddy gravel for the rest of the letters that made up his little sister’s name.
By the time they arrived at home, all his clothes were wet, and he had found only the L and the U. Charlotte made him keep the leaves outside, which he almost complained about, before he remembered that she had promised him a story after she put the baby down for a nap.
On her way to the nursery, Charlotte paused by the portrait hanging in the hallway. The last she had heard from Blaise, he had been healthy—as healthy as could be expected—but hungry. How awful to know her husband was across the world going hungry, while she cared for the children and avoided talking about their father.
One day the war would end and they would be a family again. But until then, there were many days of the same loneliness and fear.
Zachary aka Kili: We sped along the country, driving at about 50 Miles per hour on the dirt road. Thankfully we had no German encounters for a while. After a while of driving, it was becoming night. We passed a girl walking along the side of the road in with her parents. She was stomping in the puddles. It broke my heart that she could die any day, and it could be because of us… at least, my side, the Allies. I thought about my own sister, oh, how I missed her. I thought of all the times I had played with her, and raced her little toy cars, that used to be mine. Once night fell, we turned into a forest, and parked Rocky there. We put the soft top up, and I laid down in the backseat. I couldn’t sleep, so I wrote a letter back home. “Dear mom and Jamie. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to write. In fact, my letters will only get there when I arrive in Soviet Russia. Boy, that’s gonna be a doozy. So, by the time you’re getting this, I’ll either be dead, or I’ll have completed my mission. I am unsure of which. I’m writing this on January 10th, so tell Jamie happy late Birthday from me. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for her golden 8th birthday, but just know I’ve been thinking about you both this whole time. Well, I am when not thinking about getting shot. Anyway, I hope you all had a merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year. I’ll hopefully write to you again… love, Zachary.”