*Author's Note: Hello! This is my first fic. (Well, if you'd like to
get technical about it, it's really my second. But my first was a total
flunkie....) I just love Artemis Fowl, and so I figured I just HAD to write
something about it. A fic seemed like a really good idea to me... and
frankly, there just ARENT enough Artemis Fowl fics out there! Ok- Lastly,
this little writing piece MAY not make sense if you haven't read Eoin
Colfer's (I spelled that right, right? Riiiight? I think I did...) second
book, Artemis Fowl: The Arctic Incident. Anyway- Read, Enjoy, and most
especially, R&R!!!!
Oh. Btw, "Hippopotomonstrosesquipedalians?*" is a (fake XD)scientific term
for really, really, really, really long words, if you can't figure it out
from the context.*
Chapter One: The Search is On
A boy sat back in a chair rather large for his small fourteen-year-old frame. He was in the corner of his roomy and redone basement, fully furnished with a rich ivy-green carpet. The room was crowded with high-tech gadgets and improved reinventions all constructed by him. He was a young, Irish genius always showing off the knowledge and maturity that the average thirty-year-old acquired with good time. People who were polite enough might describe his skin tone as cream alabaster. However, most people would tell you it was inhumanly pale, for it was bleached a whiter than white by the hours he spent in front of his computer. Much in contrast, his hair was a raven-plumage black. His eyes were dark and glittering with contempt for his inferiors (which, to him was almost everyone), standing out in his face as the only thing that hinted on a human expression.
"Butler," the boy called for his trusty manservant.
"Yes, Artemis?" the big man answered obediently.
"Can you come over here and tell me if I misspelled Hippopotomonstrosesquipedalians?* The homework is monotonous as ever today, and I'm much too tired to really check myself. In addition, this computer so-called 'spell-checker' is horrendous..."
The man called Butler rose to his feet, standing at almost seven feet tall. He walked over and then stood checking the computer screen. "Yes, Master Fowl, I believe that's right." He grinned, "Why couldn't you just say something like...'big words'?"
"Sounds immature," Artemis almost winced.
Butler nodded. Of course, the last thing Artemis Fowl wanted to be accused of in school was sounding childish. Saint Bartleby's didn't need another just-slightly-over-average-in-IQ boy among the many that attended.
"Artemis," Butler began, "I might want to remind you that we're scheduled to visit your father again today at the Helsinki University..."
Butler noted the minute pause in Artemis's typing, but he started up again, using the excuse of hastily scratching his elbow for any break. "Yes, I know."
Artemis held in a little sigh of sadness. His father had been ill for a little over a year now. Recently, he bolted upright awakening from an afternoon nap, screaming. He had begun to recall bits of the two years he had disappeared. Nurses rushed to his bed to give him shots to set him back to sleep, thinking he was crazy. The man firmly refused to stop rambling on about the Russian Mafia. Artemis was the only one who could assure his father he wasn't insane-but he also strongly believed he shouldn't and could never talk about it. The sound of approaching steps on the oak stair pulled Artemis back to reality. Before he even realized it, his mother was hovering over him.
"And then, you just tap Enter, and viola!" Exclaimed Mistress Angeline Fowl cheerfully. Artemis realized hazily he had stopped typing yet again. Still, he /had/ finished his report on the benefits and disadvantages to extremely long words being included in literature, and it was now in the process of printing.
"Arty, darling, what's wrong?"
Artemis let out his earlier restrained sigh. "Nothing, mother. It's just that sometimes, with you around, it's hard to find time to do some of the things I used to take joy in doing." Half true. Kind of. Obviously, Artemis's brilliant criminal scheming had to be put to rest a great deal of the time. But the thing that really bothered him was Father. His drastic measures he'd taken to save his father had proven almost useless. A father half-dead in the hospital was nearly just as well as a father vanished and off somewhere in Northern Russia. Artemis rarely ever saw him. When he did it was almost heartbreaking. The memory played fresh in his mind, /"Artemis, are you sure?"/ he nodded, and Butler shot the already injured man in the shoulder. It was the fact that he had made the order to shoot his own father bothered him to near tears.
"Ah, I see," murmured Angeline. A little white lie. Of course she didn't. Even the woman who birthed Artemis Fowl could never fully understand him. "I'll be upstairs. I'm expecting a call." Then she rushed out of the room, throwing a worried glance over her shoulder.
When the basement clapped mutely shut behind her, Artemis stretched back in his chair, staring with shadowy eyes at the ceiling.
"So," the manservant attempted casually, "how is the search?"
"Nothing yet," heaved Artemis, chin between his palms now.
Butler nodded, "that Mr. Diggims is a clever one."
"And that's exactly why we need him," the boy replied. "Ah, me, if those fairies could see the gears in my head turning now. They'd most strictly forbid me to think such things.
"The fairies," Artemis repeated, ever-so-quietly. In his heart he had become rather fond of them all, and even, he ventured, missed them. He missed quirky Mr. Diggums, the clever intelligence of Foaly, the unique shade that was Commander Root's complexion, and deep down, Holly's dangerous beauty and cockiness.
His manservant nodded absently in response. Somewhere upstairs, he recognized the sound of Juliet Butler breaking something. Probably using her latest wrestling technique. After that he heard the crash of something expensive against a wall. He groaned.
"Permission to be excused?" Butler said helplessly. "I fear Juliet has broken yet another something valuable mimicking a stunt one of her wrestling heroes."
"Of course," Artemis hurried back to his research. Quickly, he added, "Call me up if it's anything of significance."
"Very good sir." Butler bowed just slightly and was quickly ascending the staircase, making his way down a hallway and down another hallway, into the great entrance hall. He drew in a sharp breath.
"Juliet," he breathed hoarsely. "What's that you've got pinned beneath you?"
She blinked over her shoulder, blond lashes heavy with the usual glitter mascara. "It's not a what, Big Brother, it's a who. But I'm still at a loss as to who in the Hell it is." She squirmed a bit, and Butler was able to catch a glimpse of a very small man in what looked like backflapped, footed pajamas and a little hat. Then she shifted into her original place again.
"Oh /Master Fowl!/" the massive butler called.
Artemis let out a stream of curses at his computer monitor. Nothing. /Nothing,/ /nothing,// nothing!/ Mulch was nowhere to be found. Artemis was tempted to check the study. Perhaps there was something on the CNN feed? They had had that up and running for quite a while now. Then he heard Butler's call. Somewhat amusing. He sounded a bit hoarse. Butler's booming voice only got hoarse when he was nervous. And he was rarely ever nervous.
"Well, 'Call me up if it's anything of significance'," Artemis repeated to himself as he got up and out of his comfy swivel chair and climbed the stairs. "But how important can it be? What'd she do, break an especially pretty vase?" his lips twitched again at his wry humor. "Now, now," he chided himself. "If Butler says it's important, then of course it's important. But," he paused in momentary uncertainty, "What on earth could be the matter? Has someone actually gotten past my security system?" He remained talking like this, hesitantly turning at an intersection of corridors to the right.
He slowed at the main hall, taking one step. Another. Another. Then he stopped altogether, gaping. "Butler," he whispered, throat gone dry. "Is that?.. Is-Is he?."
"I think so, Artemis."
Juliet got up hastily and stood beside her older brother. The heap of a little man clad in pajama clothing blinked a couple times. He brushed the remnants of a flowerpot off of his head and stood. With a bow, he spoke: "So we meet again, Mud Boy. Lance Digger, at your service."
UPDATE- I've been able to find the place at which Artemis Fowl Senior first resided for medical attention, and also was able to update my settings. I made a bit more minor changes in my way of wording things and such, and also felt I should shorten the beginning... Still. Describing Arty is just so much fun! . Thank you very much for the comments, Kitty Rainbow, Blue Yeti. I know in the creative world of writing, one cannot improve without criticism. I shall be editing this chapter and be starting on the second. I think the only change i'll have some trouble with is converting my And yes, the second will be a little more up to speed. Thanx again! ^^
Chapter One: The Search is On
A boy sat back in a chair rather large for his small fourteen-year-old frame. He was in the corner of his roomy and redone basement, fully furnished with a rich ivy-green carpet. The room was crowded with high-tech gadgets and improved reinventions all constructed by him. He was a young, Irish genius always showing off the knowledge and maturity that the average thirty-year-old acquired with good time. People who were polite enough might describe his skin tone as cream alabaster. However, most people would tell you it was inhumanly pale, for it was bleached a whiter than white by the hours he spent in front of his computer. Much in contrast, his hair was a raven-plumage black. His eyes were dark and glittering with contempt for his inferiors (which, to him was almost everyone), standing out in his face as the only thing that hinted on a human expression.
"Butler," the boy called for his trusty manservant.
"Yes, Artemis?" the big man answered obediently.
"Can you come over here and tell me if I misspelled Hippopotomonstrosesquipedalians?* The homework is monotonous as ever today, and I'm much too tired to really check myself. In addition, this computer so-called 'spell-checker' is horrendous..."
The man called Butler rose to his feet, standing at almost seven feet tall. He walked over and then stood checking the computer screen. "Yes, Master Fowl, I believe that's right." He grinned, "Why couldn't you just say something like...'big words'?"
"Sounds immature," Artemis almost winced.
Butler nodded. Of course, the last thing Artemis Fowl wanted to be accused of in school was sounding childish. Saint Bartleby's didn't need another just-slightly-over-average-in-IQ boy among the many that attended.
"Artemis," Butler began, "I might want to remind you that we're scheduled to visit your father again today at the Helsinki University..."
Butler noted the minute pause in Artemis's typing, but he started up again, using the excuse of hastily scratching his elbow for any break. "Yes, I know."
Artemis held in a little sigh of sadness. His father had been ill for a little over a year now. Recently, he bolted upright awakening from an afternoon nap, screaming. He had begun to recall bits of the two years he had disappeared. Nurses rushed to his bed to give him shots to set him back to sleep, thinking he was crazy. The man firmly refused to stop rambling on about the Russian Mafia. Artemis was the only one who could assure his father he wasn't insane-but he also strongly believed he shouldn't and could never talk about it. The sound of approaching steps on the oak stair pulled Artemis back to reality. Before he even realized it, his mother was hovering over him.
"And then, you just tap Enter, and viola!" Exclaimed Mistress Angeline Fowl cheerfully. Artemis realized hazily he had stopped typing yet again. Still, he /had/ finished his report on the benefits and disadvantages to extremely long words being included in literature, and it was now in the process of printing.
"Arty, darling, what's wrong?"
Artemis let out his earlier restrained sigh. "Nothing, mother. It's just that sometimes, with you around, it's hard to find time to do some of the things I used to take joy in doing." Half true. Kind of. Obviously, Artemis's brilliant criminal scheming had to be put to rest a great deal of the time. But the thing that really bothered him was Father. His drastic measures he'd taken to save his father had proven almost useless. A father half-dead in the hospital was nearly just as well as a father vanished and off somewhere in Northern Russia. Artemis rarely ever saw him. When he did it was almost heartbreaking. The memory played fresh in his mind, /"Artemis, are you sure?"/ he nodded, and Butler shot the already injured man in the shoulder. It was the fact that he had made the order to shoot his own father bothered him to near tears.
"Ah, I see," murmured Angeline. A little white lie. Of course she didn't. Even the woman who birthed Artemis Fowl could never fully understand him. "I'll be upstairs. I'm expecting a call." Then she rushed out of the room, throwing a worried glance over her shoulder.
When the basement clapped mutely shut behind her, Artemis stretched back in his chair, staring with shadowy eyes at the ceiling.
"So," the manservant attempted casually, "how is the search?"
"Nothing yet," heaved Artemis, chin between his palms now.
Butler nodded, "that Mr. Diggims is a clever one."
"And that's exactly why we need him," the boy replied. "Ah, me, if those fairies could see the gears in my head turning now. They'd most strictly forbid me to think such things.
"The fairies," Artemis repeated, ever-so-quietly. In his heart he had become rather fond of them all, and even, he ventured, missed them. He missed quirky Mr. Diggums, the clever intelligence of Foaly, the unique shade that was Commander Root's complexion, and deep down, Holly's dangerous beauty and cockiness.
His manservant nodded absently in response. Somewhere upstairs, he recognized the sound of Juliet Butler breaking something. Probably using her latest wrestling technique. After that he heard the crash of something expensive against a wall. He groaned.
"Permission to be excused?" Butler said helplessly. "I fear Juliet has broken yet another something valuable mimicking a stunt one of her wrestling heroes."
"Of course," Artemis hurried back to his research. Quickly, he added, "Call me up if it's anything of significance."
"Very good sir." Butler bowed just slightly and was quickly ascending the staircase, making his way down a hallway and down another hallway, into the great entrance hall. He drew in a sharp breath.
"Juliet," he breathed hoarsely. "What's that you've got pinned beneath you?"
She blinked over her shoulder, blond lashes heavy with the usual glitter mascara. "It's not a what, Big Brother, it's a who. But I'm still at a loss as to who in the Hell it is." She squirmed a bit, and Butler was able to catch a glimpse of a very small man in what looked like backflapped, footed pajamas and a little hat. Then she shifted into her original place again.
"Oh /Master Fowl!/" the massive butler called.
Artemis let out a stream of curses at his computer monitor. Nothing. /Nothing,/ /nothing,// nothing!/ Mulch was nowhere to be found. Artemis was tempted to check the study. Perhaps there was something on the CNN feed? They had had that up and running for quite a while now. Then he heard Butler's call. Somewhat amusing. He sounded a bit hoarse. Butler's booming voice only got hoarse when he was nervous. And he was rarely ever nervous.
"Well, 'Call me up if it's anything of significance'," Artemis repeated to himself as he got up and out of his comfy swivel chair and climbed the stairs. "But how important can it be? What'd she do, break an especially pretty vase?" his lips twitched again at his wry humor. "Now, now," he chided himself. "If Butler says it's important, then of course it's important. But," he paused in momentary uncertainty, "What on earth could be the matter? Has someone actually gotten past my security system?" He remained talking like this, hesitantly turning at an intersection of corridors to the right.
He slowed at the main hall, taking one step. Another. Another. Then he stopped altogether, gaping. "Butler," he whispered, throat gone dry. "Is that?.. Is-Is he?."
"I think so, Artemis."
Juliet got up hastily and stood beside her older brother. The heap of a little man clad in pajama clothing blinked a couple times. He brushed the remnants of a flowerpot off of his head and stood. With a bow, he spoke: "So we meet again, Mud Boy. Lance Digger, at your service."
UPDATE- I've been able to find the place at which Artemis Fowl Senior first resided for medical attention, and also was able to update my settings. I made a bit more minor changes in my way of wording things and such, and also felt I should shorten the beginning... Still. Describing Arty is just so much fun! . Thank you very much for the comments, Kitty Rainbow, Blue Yeti. I know in the creative world of writing, one cannot improve without criticism. I shall be editing this chapter and be starting on the second. I think the only change i'll have some trouble with is converting my And yes, the second will be a little more up to speed. Thanx again! ^^