A/N: I know, it's a done-to-death plot, but I never claimed to be an
original person. I like to think I am, but... I'll just get on with the
story now.
Disclaimer: I own myself (Not according to my parents, but all the same) and fic boy. Gemma and Violet are based on my real life friends, so technically they own themselves. Lulu owns herself as well. The newsies belong to Disney, ect.
`*`*`*`*`
It was a dark and stormy night,
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" A voice calls out, the spooky music in the background stops suddenly.
"What?" Charlotte Fairington, age 16, appears holding a script and flashlight, palms up.
"You can't start a story like that!" Yells the voice again, taking form of a small boy with huge gray eyes, hands on hips tapping his foot impatiently.
"Who are you?" Charlotte asks, shining the flashlight into the boy's eyes.
The boy shields his eyes with his hands, "Get that outta my eyes! I'm the fic boy. That first line is dead."
"Er, fic boy?" She asks, perplexed.
"Yeah, I'm the voice who's always in the back of your mind, kind of like a conscience, telling you how to write a fic." The boy replies looking annoyed.
Charlotte blinks slowly, trying to take the news in. "So, you're the one who tells me what to write in my fics? It's all YOU? Not ME? Not my inner creative genius?"
"No, you moron. Without me your fics would be worse than they already are." He is answered with a frown, "Plus, your inner creative genius would rather sit around watching Gilmore Girls than update. Without me kid, your lost."
"What am I supposed to write then?"
"Try this," F.B. replies..
The thunder was a stampede of wild horses running swiftly in the sky. Lightning clashed to the ground illuminating the dull skyline.
~~~
"Hey I like that!"
"Are you gonna talk the whole time?" F.B. interrupts.
"No. Geez. Take some Midol." Charlotte mumbles.
"Watch it," F.B. snarls, "Now back to the story."
~~~
The lights dimmed slightly from the torrents of rain splashing against the electric lines in the city. Heavy drops spattered the windows and beat on the sidewalk. People rushed to their destinations outside, umbrellas like colorful jellyfish floating above their heads.
A house much like any other on Towne Avenue, Dublin, emitted a soft incandescent glow from the windows. The gray slate stone walkway held mirrors of water, looking like magical portals. On the door, a wreathe covered with fall leaves and acorns hung dripping. A squirrel flashed by, stealing one of the acorns.
~~~
"Hey, my mum made that wreathe!"
"Can you shut up? Your not funny!" F.B. demands, looking ready to kill.
The narrator, a tall man with a French accent and pin stripe tux throws down his script and jogs off stage, "Why don't you both fermer vos bouches?! I am TRYING to read a ztory!" He walks off mumbling, "Children zese days. No respect for anyzing."
Charlotte and F.B. look at each, then slowly turn back to the stage, looking scared.
~~~
Inside the house, sat three girls watching Newsies for the ten thousandth time that evening. An array of plates and empty candy wrappers were scattered around the living room.
The ending theme of the movie started playing, much to the friend's dismay.
"It can't be over! It just started." Violet started to rewind the tape. Violet and Charlotte were the two of the three that were obsessed with Newsies from the beginning. Gemma, never having seen Newsies until that night, was slowly becoming a newsies fan.
Violet hit the rewind button again, and again. The movie seemed to be stuck.
"It isn't working!" Violet screamed, near hysterics. She threw the remote control at the Tv; it bounced off the screen and onto the floor.
"Eee! Don't do that, if you break the screen and then I have to pay for it." Charlotte ranted.
Gemma, always the peacekeeper, cut her off, "When are you parents supposed to be back again, Charley?"
Charlotte shrugged, but scowled at being called Charley, "They said eleven, but they're always longer than they say they are, talking with everybody. Mum'll probably be trying to take everyone's measurements." Charlotte's mother was a costume designer for the theatre, and constantly tried to get everybody's measurements for new designs.
"I guess we can't watch it again, then." Violet sighed, "Now what do we do?"
They sat in the silent room thinking of something to do. Finally, Charlotte jumped up.
"I know!" She exclaimed and ran up the stairs, she went to the hall linen closet and pulled open a door. Violet and Gemma exchanged a confused glance. They followed Charlotte nonetheless.
A small trap door swung open with a pull of the brass chain. A small cloud of dust floated down causing the girl's to sneeze.
"Angel dandruff! Angel dandruff!" Lulu, Charlotte's younger sister, 6 years old giggled trying to catch the dust.
"Ew." Remarked Violet, the thought of dandruff, even heavenly dandruff, made her shudder.
Charlotte grasped the shelves of towels and pulled herself up into the attic. Violet followed, dragging Gemma along.
"Here it is!" Charlotte opened an old, worn leather chest. She pulled out an ouija board. The board looked ancient, with a pale yellow background and faded black letters.
"Ouija? Boring! Look at this stuff." Violet shouted. She was digging through an identical chest, pulling out different things. There was a dress that looked like it was from the end of the 1800's. Next was a beautiful black velvet hat with a maroon feather pinned to the side.
Gemma held up a tweed newsboy cap, the brim had a few small holes in it, "It's just like the newsies!"
They found letters, journals, clothes and caps, books, bags and all the stuff a newsies fan dreams are made of.
~~~
"See? I haven't interrupted even once." Charlotte said, crossing her arms.
F.B. smirked, "You just did."
~~~
Gemma opened one of the journals and read. It was an account of the daily life of a newsie. Nothing out of the ordinary, if you're a newsie freak that is.
"Let's ask the ouija Board who's stuff this is," She suggested, snapping the journal shut and placing it carefully back. Violet reluctantly agreed, she wasn't one to believe in the paranormal.
They sat in a circle and put the board in the middle. Slowly it began to move, it landed on the letter N. Then E. W was next, followed by an S. The girls nearly screamed they all knew what was next. It moved to the I and then to the U. They all gasped. It had spelled out . Newsiu?
"Newsiu?!?! What the hell is a Newsiu?" Violet shrieked, a mix of anger and shock on her face.
"An Newspaper Delivery emu?" Gemma shrugged.
Violet glared, "Ha Ha Ha." The words came out like pebbles dropping on a plate.
"We may as well go see if the movie's fixed." Charlotte said, jumping down the trap door, almost landing on Lulu who was counting the loops of fabric on the towels.
Violet slammed the door shut, mumbling about someone moving the board. No one answered her; neither of them had been moving it. The movie still wouldn't work; the screen remained a blank square.
Charlotte still had the newsboy cap on her head; she twisted it around and chewed her lip thinking of something to do.
The lights went out. In the middle of the room, a small white glow began to grow like a bubble. It floated around the ceiling before coming back down again. Suddenly, the lights were back on, and Mr. Pulitzer was standing in the living room.
Violet, Gemma and Charlotte gaped at Pulitzer. He was decked in a pink tutu with matching pink tights and bodysuit. He held a sparkling silver wand in his hand and a tiny-jeweled crown on his head.
"Hello! I'm your Fairy God Newsie!" He grinned happily, a misty swirl of glittering gold dust trailed behind him as he floated around.
"Uuuhhhhhhhh." The three said in union. Pulitzer turned a light red and quickly apologize, "Do let me explain! You see, you discovered the Magical Chest Of Newsie Goodness! Once you discover something like that, your fondest newsie wish will come true!"
He pulled out a pearly pink book filled with list after list of names. He scanned down the latest wish with an index finger, "Little Suzie wants a pony, Oh damn. This is Santa Claus' list." He rummaged through his leotard pocket once more, "Ah, here we are. Charlotte Fairington, Gemma Elliston and Violet James, yes, you wish to be newsgirls in the newsie's era. Excellent! This is a common wish."
He smiled, waved his wand and chanted, "Newsie! Newsie! They're so groovy! Take these chicks to the newsies mix!"
"Newsie, groovy? That doesn't rhyme." Gemma stated, looking skeptical. Pulitzer just bonked his wand on each of their heads.
The room melted away into a swirl of pink and gold. Suddenly, they all fell into a deep, twirling whirlwind. Black and white photos swished by them, songs and voices echoed, the faces of the newsie's unfolded in front of them. Then it all went black.
-----From Derby: I think that's the longest chapter I've ever written. It's about time I wrote something more light-hearted. ^_^ Where did Fic Boy come from anyway? Randomness.
F.B: Muah ha ha!!
Derby: *Whacks him with a cheese grater*
Disclaimer: I own myself (Not according to my parents, but all the same) and fic boy. Gemma and Violet are based on my real life friends, so technically they own themselves. Lulu owns herself as well. The newsies belong to Disney, ect.
`*`*`*`*`
It was a dark and stormy night,
"Wait, wait, WAIT!" A voice calls out, the spooky music in the background stops suddenly.
"What?" Charlotte Fairington, age 16, appears holding a script and flashlight, palms up.
"You can't start a story like that!" Yells the voice again, taking form of a small boy with huge gray eyes, hands on hips tapping his foot impatiently.
"Who are you?" Charlotte asks, shining the flashlight into the boy's eyes.
The boy shields his eyes with his hands, "Get that outta my eyes! I'm the fic boy. That first line is dead."
"Er, fic boy?" She asks, perplexed.
"Yeah, I'm the voice who's always in the back of your mind, kind of like a conscience, telling you how to write a fic." The boy replies looking annoyed.
Charlotte blinks slowly, trying to take the news in. "So, you're the one who tells me what to write in my fics? It's all YOU? Not ME? Not my inner creative genius?"
"No, you moron. Without me your fics would be worse than they already are." He is answered with a frown, "Plus, your inner creative genius would rather sit around watching Gilmore Girls than update. Without me kid, your lost."
"What am I supposed to write then?"
"Try this," F.B. replies..
The thunder was a stampede of wild horses running swiftly in the sky. Lightning clashed to the ground illuminating the dull skyline.
~~~
"Hey I like that!"
"Are you gonna talk the whole time?" F.B. interrupts.
"No. Geez. Take some Midol." Charlotte mumbles.
"Watch it," F.B. snarls, "Now back to the story."
~~~
The lights dimmed slightly from the torrents of rain splashing against the electric lines in the city. Heavy drops spattered the windows and beat on the sidewalk. People rushed to their destinations outside, umbrellas like colorful jellyfish floating above their heads.
A house much like any other on Towne Avenue, Dublin, emitted a soft incandescent glow from the windows. The gray slate stone walkway held mirrors of water, looking like magical portals. On the door, a wreathe covered with fall leaves and acorns hung dripping. A squirrel flashed by, stealing one of the acorns.
~~~
"Hey, my mum made that wreathe!"
"Can you shut up? Your not funny!" F.B. demands, looking ready to kill.
The narrator, a tall man with a French accent and pin stripe tux throws down his script and jogs off stage, "Why don't you both fermer vos bouches?! I am TRYING to read a ztory!" He walks off mumbling, "Children zese days. No respect for anyzing."
Charlotte and F.B. look at each, then slowly turn back to the stage, looking scared.
~~~
Inside the house, sat three girls watching Newsies for the ten thousandth time that evening. An array of plates and empty candy wrappers were scattered around the living room.
The ending theme of the movie started playing, much to the friend's dismay.
"It can't be over! It just started." Violet started to rewind the tape. Violet and Charlotte were the two of the three that were obsessed with Newsies from the beginning. Gemma, never having seen Newsies until that night, was slowly becoming a newsies fan.
Violet hit the rewind button again, and again. The movie seemed to be stuck.
"It isn't working!" Violet screamed, near hysterics. She threw the remote control at the Tv; it bounced off the screen and onto the floor.
"Eee! Don't do that, if you break the screen and then I have to pay for it." Charlotte ranted.
Gemma, always the peacekeeper, cut her off, "When are you parents supposed to be back again, Charley?"
Charlotte shrugged, but scowled at being called Charley, "They said eleven, but they're always longer than they say they are, talking with everybody. Mum'll probably be trying to take everyone's measurements." Charlotte's mother was a costume designer for the theatre, and constantly tried to get everybody's measurements for new designs.
"I guess we can't watch it again, then." Violet sighed, "Now what do we do?"
They sat in the silent room thinking of something to do. Finally, Charlotte jumped up.
"I know!" She exclaimed and ran up the stairs, she went to the hall linen closet and pulled open a door. Violet and Gemma exchanged a confused glance. They followed Charlotte nonetheless.
A small trap door swung open with a pull of the brass chain. A small cloud of dust floated down causing the girl's to sneeze.
"Angel dandruff! Angel dandruff!" Lulu, Charlotte's younger sister, 6 years old giggled trying to catch the dust.
"Ew." Remarked Violet, the thought of dandruff, even heavenly dandruff, made her shudder.
Charlotte grasped the shelves of towels and pulled herself up into the attic. Violet followed, dragging Gemma along.
"Here it is!" Charlotte opened an old, worn leather chest. She pulled out an ouija board. The board looked ancient, with a pale yellow background and faded black letters.
"Ouija? Boring! Look at this stuff." Violet shouted. She was digging through an identical chest, pulling out different things. There was a dress that looked like it was from the end of the 1800's. Next was a beautiful black velvet hat with a maroon feather pinned to the side.
Gemma held up a tweed newsboy cap, the brim had a few small holes in it, "It's just like the newsies!"
They found letters, journals, clothes and caps, books, bags and all the stuff a newsies fan dreams are made of.
~~~
"See? I haven't interrupted even once." Charlotte said, crossing her arms.
F.B. smirked, "You just did."
~~~
Gemma opened one of the journals and read. It was an account of the daily life of a newsie. Nothing out of the ordinary, if you're a newsie freak that is.
"Let's ask the ouija Board who's stuff this is," She suggested, snapping the journal shut and placing it carefully back. Violet reluctantly agreed, she wasn't one to believe in the paranormal.
They sat in a circle and put the board in the middle. Slowly it began to move, it landed on the letter N. Then E. W was next, followed by an S. The girls nearly screamed they all knew what was next. It moved to the I and then to the U. They all gasped. It had spelled out . Newsiu?
"Newsiu?!?! What the hell is a Newsiu?" Violet shrieked, a mix of anger and shock on her face.
"An Newspaper Delivery emu?" Gemma shrugged.
Violet glared, "Ha Ha Ha." The words came out like pebbles dropping on a plate.
"We may as well go see if the movie's fixed." Charlotte said, jumping down the trap door, almost landing on Lulu who was counting the loops of fabric on the towels.
Violet slammed the door shut, mumbling about someone moving the board. No one answered her; neither of them had been moving it. The movie still wouldn't work; the screen remained a blank square.
Charlotte still had the newsboy cap on her head; she twisted it around and chewed her lip thinking of something to do.
The lights went out. In the middle of the room, a small white glow began to grow like a bubble. It floated around the ceiling before coming back down again. Suddenly, the lights were back on, and Mr. Pulitzer was standing in the living room.
Violet, Gemma and Charlotte gaped at Pulitzer. He was decked in a pink tutu with matching pink tights and bodysuit. He held a sparkling silver wand in his hand and a tiny-jeweled crown on his head.
"Hello! I'm your Fairy God Newsie!" He grinned happily, a misty swirl of glittering gold dust trailed behind him as he floated around.
"Uuuhhhhhhhh." The three said in union. Pulitzer turned a light red and quickly apologize, "Do let me explain! You see, you discovered the Magical Chest Of Newsie Goodness! Once you discover something like that, your fondest newsie wish will come true!"
He pulled out a pearly pink book filled with list after list of names. He scanned down the latest wish with an index finger, "Little Suzie wants a pony, Oh damn. This is Santa Claus' list." He rummaged through his leotard pocket once more, "Ah, here we are. Charlotte Fairington, Gemma Elliston and Violet James, yes, you wish to be newsgirls in the newsie's era. Excellent! This is a common wish."
He smiled, waved his wand and chanted, "Newsie! Newsie! They're so groovy! Take these chicks to the newsies mix!"
"Newsie, groovy? That doesn't rhyme." Gemma stated, looking skeptical. Pulitzer just bonked his wand on each of their heads.
The room melted away into a swirl of pink and gold. Suddenly, they all fell into a deep, twirling whirlwind. Black and white photos swished by them, songs and voices echoed, the faces of the newsie's unfolded in front of them. Then it all went black.
-----From Derby: I think that's the longest chapter I've ever written. It's about time I wrote something more light-hearted. ^_^ Where did Fic Boy come from anyway? Randomness.
F.B: Muah ha ha!!
Derby: *Whacks him with a cheese grater*