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 Posted: Thu Nov 05, 2009 9:11 pm
Nighttime was really dark and cold, she found, but she'd gotten shut out of the apartment again, so she had gone exploring. She found a pretty garden with pretty flowers, but the dew had started to fall and London didn't like to be wet; she nested on a window frame, wrapped her arms around her knees and sighed. At least she was dry!...
Condensation creeped up closer to her toes and London backed up, further and further away until - "Eep!" She fell off the frame and into someone's room; automatically, she darted up and away to a hidden place that truly wasn't so hidden. The glowing little girl tried to tuck herself away in the gap between the books on a bookshelf, then after a couple of tense seconds, stood up and peered out.
There was a boy! Right there. What if he tried to put a book where she was hiding?! What if she got squished! London didn't want to get squished, not at all! She had almost been squished once. It had not been nice! But there was nowhere else to hide...
"Please don't squish," London squeaked, "Am not bug!"
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Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 3:42 pm
Christopher Wells closed his journal. He had written everything he could about today, and now he could barely keep his eyes open. Yawning, he wearily pushed himself up from the bed, (a more complicated movement than it seemed) and grabbed the book to put away once he was on his feet. Shuffling over to one of the many, shelves, he surveyed his work, book after book full of things that he thought of, lined up neatly on the walls. Then, with a faint "Aha," he found the empty spot along the rows.
He paused as he was about to slide it in, puzzled by a half-imagined noise. Looking around carefully, because his father's friends had been known to drop by unannounced, he saw nothing and shrugged.
However, the act of seeking the noise had woken him up sufficiently to notice a dim glow coming from the crack in the bookshelf. Lowering the book, he squatted and pressed one eye to the gap, staring in at what turned out to be a tiny girl hiding there.
"Hello... fairy?" Christopher asked, unable to find a better term for what he had encountered. Remembering what his father had taught him, he said, "It's awfully nice to meet you. My name's Christoper Edward Wells, and I'm an invalid." Greeting, name, occupation. Check, check, check.
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Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 6:02 pm
She squished herself further back into the gap between books as if that would help, bare feet scrabbling against the smooth-polished wood for grip. It didn't work, but--
"Not a fairy," she said, forearms pressed against the books. She tucked her feet up under her; she pulled her clothes tighter around her, the jacket smooth over her thin shoulders. With her recent upheaval had come growth, several inches of it in fact, and she had to crouch a little to hide in the bookshelf. Early she would have managed without any problems, but now... "I'm a girl. Don't squish me, please!"
But the boy didn't seem very inclined to squish her; in fact, he seemed just like he wanted to talk, even going as far as to introduce herself. She shifted her weight forward a little, leaning towards the stranger. "H-hi," she said, bright-eyed as she leaned forward; she was all-around bright, glowing with a clear white light. "I'm London Fabel, and... and I want to be a musician, but I guess right now I'm a little girl." After a pause, she added, "I'm too little to go to school."
It was true. Who knew public schools had a height requirement? "Is this your room," she asked, "I'm very sorry, I fell in on accident."
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Posted: Mon Nov 22, 2010 5:04 pm
"Girl," Chris amended, pressing his one hand against the bookcase in case she wanted to get out. "Awfully sorry, I don't meet many people your size, I'm afraid. Or many people at all, really. I'm not allowed in school either," he commiserated, "But I learn at home, so that's fine."
Smiling lopsidedly at his company, he sat Indian-style on the floor so he could get a look at her without having to crouch. "It's fine, I like having people to talk to. What kind of instrument do you want to play? Where do you come from? Do you like it there? Why do you glow, is it useful? It's really quite pretty." He paused this torrent of questions as his gentleman lessons caught up to him and let out an awkward little laugh.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. My father's always trying to teach me to be a gentleman but I'm still not very presentable for polite conversation. I tend to get carried away!"
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