Disclaimer: The Keys to the Kingdom series and the Abhorsen trilogy do not in any way belong to me, they're the property of Garth Nix, etc.
Rebuild
poker
Perhaps predictably, Dr. Scamandros and Giac are awful at the game; Fred is little better, and Art has never played before, so Suzy (Lady Sunday) dominates for the first few rounds.
After watching the others get cleaned out repeatedly, Sunday (the old one; they still haven't figured out what else to call him, seeing as he won't tell them his mortal name) deigns to join.
Suddenly Art gets good, and Sunday displays a competitive streak that Suzy probably should have expected; it comes down to Art's sunglasses-covered eyes and set mouth and Sunday's own disdainful poker face and Suzy honestly doesn't know who is going to win.
button
"Well this is very nice," Fred says proudly, fussing over his new uniform. The buttons shine in the light, proclaiming his new rank: general.
"Yeah, yeah," Suzy grumbles, ignoring the exasperated looks Art and Fred send her, "I 'ad a whole faction named after me!"
planning
"You want to rebuild the House," Sunday repeats, clearly disbelieving.
"Yes," Art agrees patiently, "but I'll need your help planning it out; I just don't know enough about the House, and the Atlas is no help either."
Sunday huffs and blusters, but Suzy knows the higher ups pretty well, Denizen or sons of the (old) Architect: he'll do it.
definition
"What are you writing?" Fred asks curiously, peering over Sunday's shoulder.
The former Trustee stiffens, his hand making an aborted motion as if he means to cover the sheet of parchment and the fine, almost delicate handwriting scrawled across it; finally, he explains, "I am defining the Incomparable Gardens. Because it would be impossible to create something without some idea of what the end product will be, and I do not want it to be an inferior, faded copy of the original," Sunday adds, when Fred opens his mouth to ask for clarification.
kitten
"What is it," Sunday says blankly, staring down at the small, purring bundle in Art's arms with obvious confusion.
"She is a kitten, and her name is Emily," Art says, petting her.
"But why?"
sled
"This idea does not seem sound," Dr. Scamandros says dubiously, examining the wooden sleds arrayed at the top of the (new) Middle House's thrice-terraced, temporarily snow-covered mountain with a variety of sorcerous implements.
"What can possibly go wrong?" Suzy wonders blithely, but she makes Giac sit down first and pushes him off before he has a chance to protest.
"I'm not getting on one of those things," Sunday says loudly, once Giac's frightened screams have faded after he careened down the slope and off a cliff.
ink
"Official documents should be written in black ink," Sunday insists stubbornly, trying to prise the bottle from her fingers.
"Blue or black ink!" Suzy retorts, not giving an inch.
"Turquoise... blue... is... inappropriate!" Sunday hisses as he continues to pull at the inkwell, though Suzy doesn't know why; she's going to win, of course.
straw
"Here," the New Architect says, handing Sunday a tall glass filled with pinkish liquid; a green and white striped straw is bent over the lip.
Sunday feels his lips quirk upwards in spite of himself, recalling his past posturing when Arthur had been chained to a replica of the Old One's clock.
"I didn't know what you were drinking back then, so it's just pink lemonade," the New Architect adds.
attic
"There should be an attic," Suzy says, "every interesting house has one!"
"Or we could simply rename the Upper House the Attic," Sunday says drily, then looks horrified when he realizes that, of all things, he's bantering with his usurper.
Art exchanges looks with Fred, who's obviously biting his lip to keep from laughing; Dr. Scamandros and Giac look distressed at the thought, and Art finds himself having a hard time keeping a straight face too.
flea
"That thing gave me fleas!" Sunday says, scratching at a reddened patch of skin on the side of his neck before he seems to realize what he's doing; he makes a wordless noise of disgust and deliberately places his hand back on the desk.
"Emily wouldn't do that," Art says mildly, but quickly eradicates the fleas with a flick of his fingers before Sunday can get too worked up about it.
Sunday narrows his eyes, then goes back to ignoring Art and filling out Suzy's paperwork - in green ink, of course.
contract
So many of the arrangements within the (old) House had involved lengthy, fine-printed contracts, for none of the Trustees could trust the others to fulfill their side of a bargain without proper documentation (especially after that business with Wednesday and Saturday).
Sunday does not like nor approve of many of the changes (laughably termed "improvements" by the New Architect) that were introduced into the (new) House but he does appreciate the more trusting atmosphere that has prevailed since the New Architect's inception.
Even if Suzy is usually late or rather flippant when dealing with him, Sunday knows that she will come through, eventually; that certainty, after millennia without it, is comforting.
kidnap (doubled)
"This isn't a kidnapping, you're not a child- it's an abduction," Sunday snaps irritably, unable to listen to Arthur's indignant tirade any longer; honestly, the New Architect's mostly-mortal half displays all of Art's poor qualities and none of his good ones.
"Oh, thanks, I feel so much better," Arthur spits at the same time as Suzy goes, "I think we should just call it an intervention; that doesn't have the same criminal connotation," and Sunday has to resist the urge to throw up his hands and stalk away.
"Weren't you going on about me doing my job properly earlier," Arthur says, glaring at Sunday accusingly like he knows the former Trustee is the weakest link in this so-called intervention.
"Your work will continue to be subpar if you don't stop sulking," Sunday retorts.
"Arthur," Fred, ever the peacemaker, steps between them and disengages the grip Suzy has on Arthur's arm, "we're just worried about you; it's not like Art would make you do anything you didn't want or something, you know?"
Arthur's jaw clenches, but he nods jerkily, which Sunday figures is the best they can expect to come out of this stupid plan.
novel
"What is this," Sunday says, not sparing the bundle of untidy parchment that Suzy dropped on the desk before him a single glance.
"It's a slightly-exaggerated account of my adventures with Arthur before the New Universe," Suzy says proudly.
Sunday looks down his nose at it, taking note of her chicken scratch (he's reasonably sure Suzy's writing gets worse when she knows it's going to pass before him) and the strange doodles in the margins; he wonders if it will be any worse than the blatant piece of propaganda that some Thesaurus had dreamt up after Arthur took the Far Reaches.
iPad
"Another useless human invention," Sunday mutters, eyeing the iPad dubiously.
"Just try it, Sunday," the New Architect urges, then thankfully gets bored and goes off to do whatever it is he does about the House when he is not bothering Sunday.
Sunday pointedly ignores the New Architect's startled-but-pleased laugh when he comes back to find Sunday struggling over level 80-something of Candy Crush, paperwork forgotten.
witch
"It's almost worse that, not only did I lose to you, you're so chummy with the New Architect," Saturday remarks, her disgust plain.
Sunday stiffens, an impassioned defense of the New Architect on the tip of his tongue before he quite realizes it - for all that he does not necessarily approve of the New Architect, he certainly does not approve of Saturday disparaging him.
Saturday just laughs at his prolonged silence, and he isn't sure if his cheeks burn from anger or embarrassment.
salon
"This is ridiculous," Sunday says for approximately the twentieth time, because it really bears repeating and if he doesn't distract himself from the mixture of amused and confused looks from the salon's other patrons, he will probably do something that Suzy will make him regret.
"Oh, shush," Leaf says mildly, as if she is not Dusk to Sunday's Noon; the hierarchy has gotten all confused since the New Architect took over.
"I said I wanted to get my hair cut and you can provide moral support as my Times," Suzy hisses, though Sunday notices that Arthur is not present; the indignities just keep piling on, ever since the New Architect brought him back.
snail
"These things were definitely not in the original Incomparable Gardens," Suzy insists, disbelieving.
Sunday huffs, all offended, and goes, "Of course they were, everything is exactly as it was," the unspoken, outraged are you doubting me clearly conveyed nonetheless.
"She means it in a good way," Art says, squinting at the massive snails crawling about before them, then adds probably to himself.
A/N: If you want to see a specific character or scenario, feel free to drop me a prompt via PM or review (or an ask on my tumblr, link in my profile), whichever. :)