[Chapter] [Project Fairydust] Dancing and Steel

Previous Fairydust: Vivian

Next Fairydust quillstroke (Coming soon)

Project Fairydust

Chapter two: Dancing and Decisions

Quill’s notes: It’s nice to see a few people liking and commenting on my last couple of posts. It inspires me to write more! As far as Fairydust is concerned, I think I’m going to keep the name Project Fairydust as an official title. It was originally my working title but I quite like it. Chapters won’t be as long as one might expect from a novel, because I feel like sometimes what I want to show isn’t worthy of a whole chapter. However, Project Fairydust will for now be following Vivian’s viewpoint, and is chronological. As such, I’ve started labeling chapters. Enjoy the read.

Inspired by the prompt: False


It was morning… again. Under ordinary circumstances, Vivian was a morning person. Lately though she lacked any desire to get up. Even the act of waking up was depressing. Especially since it was her day off

But the artificial sun was shining and she’d forgotten to close her blinds last night. She couldn’t sleep with the light on her face, so she reluctantly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Morning, huh?

As a Hider, Vivian’s job was to lurk around humans and move objects that they might be looking for, so as to create chaos and confusion when their car keys were unexpectedly in the refrigerator. It was dull, required no magic, and put her at near constant risk of being caught by an unusually observant human who could see through the glamour. Worse yet was when she would narrowed avoid being pounced on by a cat or grabbed by a human child. It was poorly paid, but that was her life.

She played with the idea of quitting her job to do something else. Becoming a Tangler required no real skill, but it wasn’t exactly a step up the ladder. Anything else required her to know more magic, and she couldn’t afford a course to learn. Books weren’t her forte either, so that was a dead end. It was no good after all, it seemed.

She rolled out of bed, grabbed a flavourless sugar lump from the pantry in what passed for her kitchen and sucked on it as she slowly beat her wings to get blood flowing to them. She’d seen that humans needed things other than sugar to live on, and while it was true that fairies were more healthy for a varied and healthy diet of insects, fruit, and pollen, she’d never had the means to try any of it. No, it was boring sugar rations for her, requisitioned from the Department of Welfare.

“Spacing out again, V?”

If her housemate Flutter could be summed up in a single word, it would be ‘enthusiastic’. She was enthusiastically chipper in the morning, she was enthusiastically focused when she did housework, and she was enthusiastically pissed off if somebody crossed her. Whatever Flutter did, she did it with everything she had to give, which was its own special brand of terrifying.

“Mm, what?” Vivian blinked. She’d been staring at a blank wall for the last few minutes, she realised. Flutter was dressed scantily but attractively today to match the summer heat, in a khaki-coloured crop top and denim short shorts. Her hair was magically recoloured cyan, tied n twin braids, which was especially striking against her tawny skin.

“You are so out of it this morning,” Flutter scowled, placing a hand on her hip. Vivian internally noted the outline of something in her pocket as she moved.

“Long night… what’s with the knife?”

Flutter blinked and pulled out the flick-knife, spinning it in her fingers. “You worked out I have a knife, but didn’t remember to close the cupboard? Are you high or something?”

“It was a long night,” Vivian repeated, feeling some life flow back into her as she eased into the conversation like slipping into a hot bath. “Come on, spill,” she grinned. “You don’t actually need it.”

“I kicked out of the Flowers out of the Sparrow last night. You know how gangs get.”

Flutter Protector worked security in general, but was assigned to be a bouncer at their local club. She wasn’t particularly muscular, but she was trained for combat, and had a knack for offensive magic. Vivian wasn’t entirely sure why Flutter lived in the Seras slums when she could probably afford somewhere above ground. Each to their own.

“Yeah but… why a knife? You could zap any of them with a couple of wingbeats. Fighting with a knife is so human.” Vivian made a face. “What, did you forget how to do magic or something?”

Vivian felt a small twinge of guilt as Flutter’s face flashed offended. “Hey, that’s a bit far. They go for the wings anyway, to ground you and stop you from casting. Not that you’d know, since you can’t cast for shit.”

“Sorry.” She made an effort to appear contrite. “Hey, you wanna go to Bombs tonight? For fun, not work. I could do with unwinding.”

Flutter nodded, “Don’t worry about it. Sure, but I’ve got a meeting with someone from the Department of Image in half an hour. Meet you at seven?”

 

It was seven thirty in the nightclub Drop Bombs Not Beats, and Flutter was nowhere to be seen. She probably wouldn’t show either. Skilled guys and girls were on the tops of redecorated fast food cups, poledancing around the straws. Fairies hit on each other, threw harmless magic around, drank alcohol, and danced the night away to the rock music.

When a spot was free, Vivian flew up to a straw and began to dance too. She danced, and she danced, and she danced her heart out. At first she was self-conscious, but she soon  stopped paying attention to the crowd, and only watched her body and how it moved. She only paid attention to how dancing made her felt, and pushed herself harder.

The music stopped. The song hadn’t finished, and she glared towards the DJ Booth. “Hey! What’s the big idea?”

It dawned on Vivian that she was the only person complaining, because the crowd were muttering and staring at her. She scanned the crowd, then looked down at herself. She looked fairly normal, as far as she knew. No awkward wardrobe malfunctions. She looked at her purple wings, which were tattooed as usual. Silver, glittery dust seemed to be falling from them which was very not usual.

A firm, but familiar hand was placed on her shoulder and a voice whispered, “I’m sorry, V.”

It was Flutter. Vivian didn’t see where she came from, but she gave the impression that she’d been standing there all along. The cold, sharp point of a knife was being pressed threateningly against the base of her wing. In her free hand, Flutter held up an open seal-wallet showing the crest of the Department of Security.

“Miss Vivian Amelia Hider. You are under arrest.”


 

 

Quill, signing off ’til next time

Toodles!

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