Title: BubblesWord count: 578
Setting: Traitor City
Characters: Sansy and Snowdrop
Author's notes are positioned at the end
Shimmering, quivering, glistening… Slowly they rose a short while towards the sky, before the wind caught them and inexorably dragged them towards the dangers Firm Objects and People.
The people didn’t seem to be very found of the bubbles, that broke and daubed to hair, clothes and skin. Sansy, on the other hand, thought it was nice; why, everything smelt of detergent! She didn’t mind at all that her hands were drenched in soap.
That one shouldn’t be upset with others getting angry or whiny, that had her brother taught her. “Let them quarrel as much as they want” he would have said “you don’t need to care as long as you are out of reach”.
And she sure was out of reach. Behind the chimney on the magicians main building she sat, and the multicoloured smoke that arose (the main function of the chimney was to vent out failed experiments from the penthouse) coloured the bubbles in a way the soap could never have. Amaranth purple, velvet green, deep sea turquoise, dragon blue, wine red and cheese yellow.
With a light beat of her wings she shooed her creations over the straw rooftops and in among the crowds of mages, hunters, demons, nymphs, and refugees of all kinds. To them it must most of all have looked like the sticky bubbles came out of the chimney! True, they would soon go through the attic, were all the experiments lied fallow, and notice that it certainly were no bubbles in there.
Then she would have to hurry away from there, before they came up on the roof to look. Then she would no longer be out of their reach and then, her big brother had said, then she had to leave faster than quick! If any of the demons that had had their hair messed up with soap came up and found her – well then she would surely be up for a lot of beating, so much she knew.
One last time she blew in the funnel she had found, after carefully dipping it in the plate with liquid soap, and overlooked her work. This bubble was bigger than the others, an it moved trembling and clumsily through the air. Not did she dare pushing it ahead – then it would surely pop right in her face.
Just as it passed the chimney, a puff of ice blue smoke came, and a pattern that might have resembled snow flakes spread over the surface. Then it descended in a leisurely pace, just above the main entrance. A figure wrapped up in a hooded cape stopped to look at the scene. A hand reached out from the creases of the material as the bubble came closer. The thin, tender fingers formed themselves around the shimmering shape before they carefully grasped the wobbling surface.
Sansy took a deep breath – the bubble would burst! … But it didn’t. With gentle caresses the fingers moved over the bubble as if it was a dear belonging. The hooded one suddenly lifted her head and looked straight at the girl. And smiled.
It was an elderly woman, a human, and long white locks freed themselves from under the hood. “Here you have it back demon fry!” she shouted, and threw the bubble against Sansy. A slight cold spread through her fingers when she caught it. The bubble had been turned into an ice globe, and in its centre danced tiny, tiny snowflakes restlessly. Like bubbles.
Author's notes: I'm sorry to break it to you so late, but this doesn't have a plot. It was written for a prompt, and I fell in love with it so much while writing it >w<
Question: should I remove the parts where her brother is mentioned? Every time I look over the story it seems more out of place.
