Chapter One
How to Deal with Crona for Dummies
I am not a person who likes to be mocked. No. Not at all. In fact, it used to be me who did the mocking, granted, from a unique position curled on the ground in a quiet voice- BUT! I still mocked them. And I mocked them good.
So, explain to me, why am I being mocked now?
"Look at the shrimp, he doesn't even look human, the freak. Beat 'im up, boys!" First of all, I'm a girl. You hear that? Girl. G-I-R-L. As in, a species most commonly associated with the weaker, more fragile part of the human race. Sure, this girl may have kinda-sorta beatenupthegangsbossman-BUT! That doesn't mean gender accusation is in order!
…
…
What the hell. I'll kick their ass.
"I'm a freakin' GIRL!" I calmly kick ass. Very calmly- "DIE, SCUM!" – in fact. "YOU ROTTEN PIECE OF LLAMA FLEM!" – I look like a professional- "I RULE OVER YA'LL!"
Can't you see?
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
"This is the fifth time, Flyk. You really should stop this at once, or I'll be forced to expel you," My teacher wasn't the kindest of ladies. To expel ME of all people, how rude! Okay, I admit, it was a little deserved, so I took mercy that one time.
"Yes, Mrs. Henhouse," I muttered. She hit me over the head with the ruler.
"It's Hennis!" She yelled, "Not Henhouse!"
"Yes, Mrs. Hennis,"
"Good," She pointed me back over to my seat, "Now sit,"
"Woolf woolf,"
I glared at her openly. I walked back over to my seat, plopping down and staring out the window. God, I hated this place. Boarding School was boring. Only bookworms could like it. I mean, what's so stimulating about a giant grey building with a bunch of snotnose brats who are trying to 'further their education,' ?
It was kinda like a prison for preteens. Maybe I should escape. Yeah. That sounds good.
Ding!
Ladies and Gents, that was called a lightbulb moment.
"Flyk, please read from page 189- FLYKA GREEN JEWLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Yes, teachers have this annoying habit of yelling when they see a student about to jump through a window. I don't know why they do, maybe it's just instinct for their species.
"Relax, Henhouse, I'm not suicidal," I pushed open the window, looking down. Not such a long drop. Maybe I could make it.
"Flyk you get back here this instant or I swear I'll…" She growled. I turned back to her, smiling.
"Or what? Push me?"
I let my body fall out the window, carefully timing my descent. It's not like I would have to hide it from them, I'll be gone soon enough. Might as well give them a show at the end.
"Three…two…one…GO!" I always had this neat little trick I could do, cool right? Here it is:
Step one: My arm turns into a dagger.
Step two: My other arm turns into a dagger.
Step three: Use them as stilts, and up and over we go!
"Yahoo!" I propelled myself over the boarding school's edge. Goodbye, I thought.
And good riddance.
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
I would describe myself as a lucky person most of the time. At least I was born. I consider that pretty lucky.
But now, my luck was all gone. And it didn't even have mayo.
"C-Can't I have one more sandwich, pwease?" First step of being Flyk: The cute act does not work.
The cashier sighed and looked at me tiredly, "Look, you're a sweet boy and all," I am a girl, "Hun, but we, like every other restaurant in the U.S., Don't. Give. Food. For. Free." She clicked on her little box of doom, "That'll be ten-ninety-eight, please," By now my anime tears were apparent.
I had been defeated. By a box. And I don't like it.
I mercifully decided to let the box (some called it a register, whatever,) live for a while longer. I'm just cool like that.
When I walked out of the McDonalds', I had to duck my head back under my hood to avoid the stares of the entire crowd walking by me. No, they weren't staring at my abnormal shortitude, (it IS a word,) they were staring at my hair. My hair. The blue stuff growing out of my head. H-A-I-R.
"Oh get a life, people," I muttered to myself. Okay, I had blue hair. Alert the media! And no, it wasn't dyed. As to queue Lady Gaga: I was born this way. Blue hair, and dark, almost chocolate skin, that was me, baby. Of course, I was adorable (says the old lady who lives next to the school, that's right haters,) but my eyes were creepy. I hated them. Maroon eyes. They scared the living shit out of me.
And my living shit likes staying inside, thank you very much.
The large crowd finally moved past me, and by then I was starting to wonder what it would be like if I suddenly turn my arms back into daggers. Would they scream? Probably. I would too if I saw a midget with sharp things.
"I'm telling you Soul, he's over here!" A voice came out from the alleyway I just passed. I walked right past it. Now, you know that I didn't stay there of course; my brain took a while to process what an awesome name Soul was. Then I backed up.
"Maka, this is the fifth time we've searched here. It's totally uncool to be repetitive," A lower voice responded. Yeah, he sounded real smart.
A scoff was heard, "You don't even know what repetitive means,"
"Course I do, it's when you sneeze at that pollen stuff a lot,"
"That's hypersensitive, dummy!"
"Tch. I know that,"
"Maka Chop!"
Whoever this girl was, I now admired her. And my admiration is a very hard-to-get item. In fact, once, I considered selling it for high profit. It didn't work.
The two continued bickering for a while. I know it's rude to eavesdrop, but their conversation was so funny I had to listen. Don't shoot me that look, you would too.
I was so busy laughing that I didn't hear footsteps come up behind me. My hearing isn't so great, anyways. Not like it made any difference.
"MMPH!" A large, bloodstained, tanned hand clamped over my mouth, hoisting me up. Normally, I was strong, despite my little body. But, may I remind you…
Large. Bloodstained. Hand.
Bit of an advantage.
"Heheheheeeee….Must kill, must kill," His hot, beer-tinted breath hit my neck. I couldn't use my weapons in broad daylight, what would people think? I might be hauled away to be tested on! I hate needles!
"I sense it Soul! Over here!" The girl and boy ran out of the alleyway. Let's see, blonde hair, green eyes. Normal, skinny body, fair skin. She looked reasonable. I like reasonable people.
Second person, white hair, red eyes, fangs. A slouched position, jacket, and crooked grin.
This guy was my new favorite.
He was just as weird as me.
"Maka!"
"Right!"
What happened next amazed me enough to want to cry. Soul transformed his whole body into a scythe, being held by Maka. He was just like me! I wasn't alone! Now, I didn't exactly have time to be this happy, considering the fact of Mr. Handsome behind me, holding my throat, with his hands. His blood-freakin-stained hands.
Maka leapt up and swung Soul/Scythe down, trying to cut the man without hurting me. Or, at least that's what I hoped she was doing. You never know.
"What happened Maka?" Okay, so the scythe can talk. Interesting.
"I can't cut him without hurting her. I don't know what to do!" She yelled at her weapon. This was by far the most interesting day of my life. But I hated playing damsel-in-distress for long. It got annoying.
"Dammit! Let. Go. Of. Me!" I transformed my arm into a dagger, stabbing into the guy's arm. He howled in pain and dropped me. The second I hit the ground I sprinted away from him, watching Maka finish the job.
Maka yelled and swung the scythe down onto the man, transforming his body into thousands of tiny black little ribbons. A giant, blue sphere was left in his place.
If the amazement of little Flyk wasn't apparent enough, let me give you a few more hints. First hint: There was a talking red scythe. Second: The scythe transformed into the white-haired god of badass. Third: He. Ate. The. Blue. Thingy.
I repeat: ATE. THE. BLUE. THINGY.
"Ooh, that was a good one," He licked his lips. By now my arms were still in their dagger form. Maka and Soul both looked towards me, raising their eyebrows.
"Where's your meister?" Maka asked. I was confused. What the hell was a meister?
"What's a meister?" I asked. Their jaws dropped two feet.
"Y-You don't know what a meister is?"
"What did I just ask?"
"What's your name?" Maka looked suspicious. Not to say I wasn't too. The shark guy just ate a circle.
"Flyk. Flyk Jewels," I did a mock-bow. Maka and Soul's eyes widened, looking at each other, then me.
"Were your parent's names Martha and Hail Jewels?" Maka took a step closer. My eyebrows furrowed. First, she saves me. Then, she knows my family? How?
"Look if you're looking for them they left me at a boarding school and took off when I was a baby. I can't tell you anything about them," I got it clear for them. My parents were rich. People always tried to get money off me from them.
"Oh," Maka said, "Trust me, that's not what we're after," She and Soul looked at one another, "You have to come with us,"
OOOOOOoooooOOOOOO
"I'm warning you, I can be deadly,"
"Not in there," It was true. There isn't any way to be deadly when you're in a bubble. Especially if it's a giant bubble.
So my situation at the moment consisted of a cartoon-ish grim reaper, Maka, Soul, and a redhead pervert who wouldn't leave Maka alone. Some 'father' he was.
"Why did you have to put me in a bubble?" I screamed and flailed around wildly. The death lord held up a giant hand.
"Now now, my boy-"
"I. AM. A. GIRL!"
"Yes, dear, we brought you hear because of your parents. They've been looking for you for quite a while now," It was really hard to take him seriously with that voice.
I scoffed, "Yeah, sure, they're just a couple of conners trying to get at my inheritance, trust me, I've seen it before," I stayed floating inside the bubble.
The death lord looked comically angry, "You shouldn't talk like that about your own parents, Flyk. How rude," He scolded. I motioned around me.
"Just get me out of the bubble,"
Once I was out I dusted off my pants, though there was no real dust. It's just aesthetically pleasing.
"Well," Lord Death said, looking me over, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try and jog those memories from so long ago, how about you walk the halls a bit, then you'll remember," He patted my shoulder and steered me out and down the creepy hallway. I was left to walk on my own after that.
For now I was in the dungeons. Well, I called them that, because they were made of stone and were confusing me. That means dungeon in my dictionary. Or school. It meant that too.
"Stop it Ragnarok! Don't hit my head!" I heard a voice wail. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl.
"You little brat! You woke me up!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Now please stop I can't deal with you hitting my head!" The voice was coming from the room right next to me, actually. Now, I won't explain what you already know about me eavesdropping.
Except this time, I cut all the crap and opened the door.
I don't usually find things beautiful or interesting. Sometimes, if I'm in a good mood, I might find things cute. But never beautiful.
But this was already an odd day.
A gorgeous boy was in front of me, pink hair (a fellow comrade of hair!) long black cloak/dress thing, and some thing sticking out of his back. My face was a thousand shades of red by then. Had I been weaker, I would have fainted.
"I-I'm sorry, I just heard you and, um…" Crap, I really didn't have an excuse this time. Crona stood up and looked at me, seeming insecure.
"A girl came to my room, Ragnarok," He spoke to the black thing, still looking at me, "Girls never come here. The only girls that come here are Miss Marie and Maka, I don't know how to deal with this!" He clutched at his head, crying anime tears, "Mr. Corner, save me!"
And he dove into the corner.
Nice.
"Uh, sorry?" I tried, walking closer. Something I noticed, he called me a girl. A GIRL.
THIS WAS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.
AUTHOR'S NOTE! Okay, so this chappie sucked. But send me a review if u think I should fix anything. Also, I'd like to that justiceoftheworldhp-yeahright, Excel Fusion, and AWholeJumbleOfThings, you guys rock!
Review, or no update! ;)