…granted, I did consider veeeery hardly about ditching class, but in the end I did go! So it all ended well, hmph!

SHU’S BACK! :D :D :D <3 <3 <3

Witches live as the target of general jealousy and hate. Although they possess no special power beyond the average human being, superstitions and cruel speculations keep a clear division between the two. After all, their lives are much longer than the average human being. What other powers do they hide, that give them such advantages in life? Standing out in the crowd with their jet black hair, witches are discernibly different. Strange creatures that must surely be omens of ill luck, associating with one will cause misfortune and an early demise. Because, as rumors say…

Witches only bring suffering.

Witch Eva, The Giver of Life

A few years ago, I was called to the palace by the royal couple. They had a request, no, a demand, to make of me. It was clear, you see, that beyond all of the polite and very civilly spoken words of the messenger who had been sent to deliver this news, behind him stood a row of armored men, symbols of power, ready to enforce the words of royalty. So naturally, I left behind my garden, my drying herbs, all of the incomplete chores, and climbed into that intricately designed steel trapping. The curtains were closed tightly. It was, after all, poor taste for royalty to be entertaining witches.

Ahh, I thought as I stood in a salon in the palace. The many meticulous details put into so many seemingly unimportant objects. So this is the difference between royalty and peasantry.

I don’t remember what I was looking at. Staring out of a floor-to-ceiling glass window, my gaze focused unseeingly on the canvas of the sky. I listened with all of the nerves in my body to the woman seated behind me.

“Their Royal Highnesses do not believe in the foolish and ignorant beliefs of the common class.” Pause. The quiet clink of a delicate cup being set down. “It is well-known that you are the most skilled healer to be found in this kingdom.” I turned around and studied the patrician lady who sat before me. She held her seat elegantly, her charisma likewise occupying all of the space in that room. Her posture alone marked her clearly as what she was. Wealth, privilege. Aristrocrat. But not only that, she was Lady Adara, royal sister to the King.

A heavy pouch was placed on the table that stood between the two of us. She watched me with an unwavering gaze, calm and in complete control.

“The Crown Prince,” Lady Adara began serenely, “will die soon. That is to say, without the proper treatment. The best physicians residing here cannot cure him. They have all tried. There was no choice left.”

But to summon me, I finished for her. Lady Adara was a striking woman. Even in her forties, age had treated her kindly. Maybe it was the good food, but she was definitely not a person whose health had been neglected. But, health is so much more than just physical appearances. I should know.

“There is enough payment in here to keep you in comfort for another decade, if you choose to live lavishly as many of my acquaintances do. However, if you are prudent, as I believe you to be, it shall last you for at least another century. It is a very generous offer.”

Each person has their own responsibilities, and it was obvious that Lady Adara was a woman who had many of those. Her whole life was probably lived to a schedule. Although free from expression now, there were impressions of deep lines etched all over her face, signs of the many times she had wrinkled them, perhaps from stress or disapproval.

“My Lady, I do not desire coins.”

The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, as if she were amused. She was not. The temperature in the room had dropped, and even though I could feel the warmth of an idyllic Spring day behind me from the window, Lady Adara was Winter personified.

“You would refuse?” she asked me lightly.

I bowed in her general area and said, “My Lady, I would not dare do such a thing.” My neck was on the line, after all. I still had to finish collecting more herbs. Maybe I could plant some wild ones in my garden. “As you know well, I have not been in public for many years.” Just about a hundred years’ worth of solitude. “I have all that is sufficient to sustain my own needs. I am grateful for the kind offer, but coins will be of no use to me. However, I do not refuse this generosity and will gladly receive another form of payment.”

How dare I, peasant witch, make such an arrogant suggestion! The silence stretched while I was dissected to the lady’s satisfaction. I sensed her desire to slice me into ribbons but, luckily for me, she held herself calm. The maids all held their breath, terrified of drawing attention to themselves. They did work for the woman. It must be unsettling for them, having to serve her needs every single day.

Then, the young boy started coughing, interrupting the mortal calm. He was sickly pale, with heavy dark circles under his eyes, and his limp lifeless hair plastered to his head. I studied him, but not once did he look up. Throughout the whole conversation, he had reduced himself to a small presence in his seat, next to the Lady Adara. Barely noticeable in the presence of a dragon.

“Please, do sit.” Lady Adara picked up her cup again and took a sip of her cooled tea, watching me. I could feel the daggers of her gaze watching every step I took as I approached the seat across from her. “What is it,” she bit out pleasantly, “that you desire?”

I smiled humorlessly.

I may appear young aesthetically, but I was much, much older than everyone in that room combined. Lady Adara may have the authority of swords pointed at my neck, but this woman did not intimidate me. Years of apathy can do that.

“I want that boy,” I said in a low, intent voice. My eyes were locked with Lady Adara’s, but out of the corner of one I noticed the boy startle. “As it is said, a life for a life.” I picked up my cup of cold tea and took a sip. It was delicious.

“You will give me,” I confidently claimed, “the Fifth Prince.”

Well, that’s it for now. `.` I guess. Not sure if I’ll continue to write more. Oh, and this scene is like page one of the first chapter of the manga series called Hyakunen Renbo by Mashiba Nao.

Theme chosen by kure. She still hasn’t written her drabbles yet.
Theme: rewriting a scene. Wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.

shu dangled her fishing pole into the hole and settled in. The time ticked by slowly and she glanced at her watch every few seconds. After twenty-seven, she gave up and threw the stick down. “Dammit! D;” she cursed. :E “I’m never going to catch a Pikachu at this rate!” Disappointed with her lack of success, shu gave up and started to walk away when…

“Pika!” :O

shu gasped and turned around. A Pikachu! …somewhere. She looked high and low, behind her shoes and in her hair. There was no Pikachu! :< It was a complete lie. Pokemon didn't exist after all. Sighing, she dragged her feet aaaaall the way home, sucking on her thumb, in a pout.

Story to be continued! :D

A Fine Frenzy is based in Los Angeles, I believe… That is where my friend went to see them perform. And I just barely watched the music video now when I went to find it on youtube, =P but the beach that she’s at is called Santa Monica Beach. She’s at the pier, and there’s a small ferris wheel, so a lot of the shots where she’s on a ride above the ocean is also that. Err, the other major place is probably a mission somewhere, that’s my guess, but I’ve never been there, so… I can’t say I know anything about it. ;)

kurenai stuffed her hand-mittens covered hands under her armpits and shivered. It was unusually cold in a normally hot and humid land. The strange weather unsettled her. Something was going to happen, her sixteen-nth sense told her so.

Warlocks? Evil conquerors? Tripping on nothing?!, she wondered silently. It itched, and she scratched her arm. Whatever it was, she was ready to face it head on.

She was walking too slowly for some asshole, and he pushed impatiently past her, knocking her handbag down. Jerk, she scowled at his disappearing back. Mumbling nonsense, she reached down to grab her handbag when, coooonk!, her head hit someone else’s. They both yelped in pain. kure moved back quickly, and stared at the person who had his hand on her bag.

“Is this yours?” the man asked her politely. He was handsome, but not thunderstrickingly beautiful. kure gawked, nodded speechlessly and took her bag from his outstretched hand.

“Th-thank you,” she managed to stammer.

“Are you okay?” he asked. The concern in his eyes seemed honest, and kure nodded silently again.

Stupid!, she cursed herself. Say something more intelligent!

“I’m fine, thanks,” she corrected herself coolly. They stood there a while, just letting the silence build. He seemed to be waiting for something, but after a while he nodded and bade her farewell.

kure hesitated only for one second before calling after him. “Wait!” she grabbed onto the back of his coat and he turned back, curious. “Will you…” kure took a breath. “Will you allow me to treat you to some milk tea?”

Heh. Heh. Very bad story. *sigh* :P