Once upon a time, during a time after all the happily-ever-afters, and perhaps even after the ever-afters after that, all the evil villains of the world were banished from the United Kingdom of Auradon and imprisoned on the Isle of the Lost. There, underneath a protective dome that kept all manner of enchantment out of their clutches, the terrible, the treacherous, the truly awful, and the severely sinister were cursed to live without the power of magic.
King Beast declared the villains exiled forever.
Forever, as it turns out, is quite a long time. Longer than an enchanted princess can sleep. Longer, even, than an imprisoned maiden's tower of golden hair. Longer than a week of being turned into a frog, and certainly much longer than waiting for a prince to finally get around to placing that glass slipper on your foot already.
Yes, forever is a long, long, long time.
Ten years, to be specific. Ten years that these legendary villains have been trapped on a floating prison of rock and rubble.
Okay, so you might say ten years isn't such a long time, considering; but for these conjurers and witches, viziers and sorcerers, evil queens and dark fairies, to live without magic was a sentence worse than death.
(And some of them were brought back from death, only to be placed on this island—so, um, they should know.)
Without their awesome powers to dominate and hypnotize, terrorize and threaten, create thunderclouds and lightning storms, transform and disguise their features or lie and manipulate their way into getting exactly what they wanted, they were reduced to hardscrabble lives, eking a living selling and eating slop, scaring no one but their own minions, and stealing from each other. It was hard even for them to imagine they once had been great and powerful, these poisoners of forest apples and thieves of undersea voices, these usurpers of royal powers and owners of petulant mirrors.
Now their lives were anything but powerful. Now they were ordinary. Everyday.
Dare it be said? Dull.
So it was with great excitement and no small fanfare that the island gathered for a one-of-a-kind event: a six-year-old princess's wickedly wonderful birthday party. Wicked being something of a relative term under a dome that houses a bunch of powerless former villains.
In any event, a party it was.
It was the most magnificent celebration the isolated island and its banished citizens had ever seen, and tales of its gothic grandeur and obnoxious opulence would be told for years to come. The party to end all parties, this lavish occasion transformed the ramshackle bazaar and its rotting storefronts in the middle of the island into a spookily spectacular playground, full of ghostly lanterns and flickering candles.
Weeks before, a flock of vultures had circled the land, dropping invitations on every shabby doorstep and hovel so that every grubby little urchin from every corner of the island would be able to partake in this enchanting and extraordinary event.
Every little urchin on the island, that is, except for one malicious little fairy.
Whether her invitation was lost to the winds and torn to tatters or devoured by the hungry buzzards themselves—or—gasp!—never even addressed in that looping royal scrawl, as was suspected, we will never know.
But the result was the same.
Above the tumultuous bazaar, up high on her castle balcony, six-year-old Mal pulled on the locks of her thick, purple hair and pursed her lips as she observed the dark and delicious festivities below. What she could make of them, at least.
There she saw the tiny princess, the fairest of the (is) land, sitting on her rickety throne, her hair as blue as the ocean, eyes as dark as night, and lips as pink as roses. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a pretty V-braid, and she laughed in delight at the array of marvels before her. The princess possessed a darling giggle that was so entrancing, it brought a smile to haughty Lady Tremaine's face, she of the thwarted plans to marry her daughters to Prince Charming; the ferocious tiger Shere Khan was practically purring like a contented kitty; and for old times' sake, Captain Hook bravely stuck his head between Tick-Tock's open jaws, if only so he could make her laugh and hear that lovely peal again.
The princess, it would seem, could make even the most horrible villains smile.
But Mal wasn't smiling. She could practically smell the two-story cake made of sour apples, sinfully red and lusciously wormy; and try as she might, she couldn't help but overhear the screeches of the parrot Iago as he repeated, over and over again, the story of talking caves that held riches beyond measure, until the assembled villagers wanted to wring his feathered neck.
Mal sighed with green-eyed jealousy as the children gleefully tore into their baddie bags. The crumpled containers held a variety of evil sidekicks to choose from—pet baby moray eels akin to the slinky Flotsam and Jetsam swimming in tiny bowls; little spotted, cackling hyenas who were no quieter than the infamous Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed; pouncing and adorable black kittens from Lucifer's latest litter. Their badly behaved recipients screamed with excitement.
"Pretty exciting huh?" A new voice said from above her. Mal snapped out of her glare of resentment and turned her head sharply to the roof next to her. There stood a girl with short black hair that was streaked in purple and covered both of her eyes. Her dark skin nearly blending in with the dark night. She was crouched down on the roof with some sort of bag in her hand.
The girl tossed the bag toward Mal, who caught it easily with one hand, a little shocked to see that it was the baddie bags that where being handed out.
"I don't want it, and I rarely waste, so accept the damn thing and wipe that shocked look of your face," the girl said from her perch.
"So if you were invited to the great party, why aren't you there?" Mal said, pushing the comment out of the way.
The girl up top shivered a little, "Crowds. Always hated them. The only reason I was there was because my dad dragged me there. Left as soon as I could." She looked over to see Mal had returned her glare to the party. "It wasn't that cool of a party anyway, it's more like a talent show mixed with a give-away."
"Are you trying to make me feel better?" Mal said looking at the girl with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Said girl snorted, "Of course not. I just find it pointless to glare at something as stupid as a party."
They were both silent after that and Mal continued to glare at the party, ignoring what the girl said.
As the party escalated in feverish merriment, Mal's heart grew as black as her mood, and she swore that one day, she would show them all what it meant to be truly evil. "You know what?" She said.
"Hmm?"
"One day I'm gonna grow up to be greedier than Mother Gothel, more selfish even than Cinderella's stepsisters, more cunning than Jafar, more deceptive than Ursula."
"Oh really," the girl said, glancing over at Mal, who had developed a righteous look.
"Yeah, I will show them all that I'm just like my— Mother!" Mal yelped, as the shadow of two looming and ominous horns made their way toward the balcony, and her mother appeared, her purple cape fluttering softly in the wind.
Her mother's voice was rich, melodious, and tinged with menace. "What is going on here?" she demanded as the children below tittered at the sight of a highly inappropriate shadow-puppet show mounted by the frightening Dr. Facilier.
"It's a birthday party," sniffed Mal. "And I wasn't invited." But the girl up top stayed quiet, retreating more into the shadows.
"Is that right?" her mother asked. She peered at the celebration over Mal's shoulder, and all three took in the sight of the blue-haired princess giggling on a moth-eaten velvet pillow as Gaston's hairy and handsome young twin sons, Gaston Jr. and Gaston the Third, performed feats of strength—largely balancing their enormous booted feet on each other's squashed faces—to impress her. From the sound of things, it was working.
"Celebrations are for the rabble," her mother scoffed. Mal knew her mother despised parties of any kind. She despised them almost as much as she did kings and queens who doted on their precious babies, chubby little fairies with a knack for dress design, and obnoxious princes on even more obnoxious valiant steeds.
"Nevertheless, Evil Queen and her horrid progeny will learn soon enough from their spiteful little mistake!" her mother declared.
For her mother was the great Maleficent, Mistress of Darkness, the most powerful and wicked fairy in the world and the most fearsome villain in all the land.
Or at least, she had been.
Once upon a time, her mother's wrath had cursed a princess.
Once upon a time, her mother's wrath had brought a prince to his knees.
Once upon a time, her mother's wrath had put an entire kingdom to sleep.
Once upon a time, her mother had had all the forces of hell at her command.
And there was nothing Mal desired more in her heart than to grow up to be just like her.
Maleficent stepped to the balcony's edge, where she could see out to the whole island all the way to the sparkling lights of Auradon. She raised herself to her full height as thunder and lightning cracked and boomed and rain began to pour from the heavens. Since there was no magic on the island, this was just wickedly good coincidence.
The party came to a halt, and the gathered citizens were paralyzed at the sight of their leader glaring down at them with the full force of her wrath.
"This celebration is over!" Mal's mother declared. "Now, shoo, flee, and scatter, like the little fleas you are! And you! Evil Queen and your daughter! From now on, you are dead to the entire island! You do not exist! You are nothing! Never show your faces anywhere ever again! Or else!"
Just as quickly as it had gathered, the group dispersed, under the wary eye of Maleficent's frightening henchmen, the boar-like guards wearing aviator caps pulled down low over their hooded eyes. Mal caught a last glimpse of the blue-haired princess looking fearfully up at the balcony before being whisked away by her equally terrified mother.
Mal's eyes glittered with triumph, her dark heart glad that her misery had caused such wondrous maleficence. "I got to go." The girl said, and Mal looked over to see her form retreating, hopping roof top to roof top. "Enjoy the baddie bag!" She shouted over her shoulder before disappearing into the night.
"You're in my world now,
not your world.
And I've got friends,
on the other side."
-Dr. Facilier
Faith looked at her reflection in the mirror and sighed, she was leaving the house for the first time in a while. Of course, she wanted to stay home, but her father was making true on his promise and dragging her out the house. She put on her rose arrow piercing that went through her top ear cartilage, and her feather earrings. And the small clawed hands ring wrapped around her middle finger. A pentagram pendant hung from the chocker of her neck, the skinny silky purple top with its black rose neckline was a little baggy on her, and her black and red splattered skinny jeans were anything but that.
She walked down the stairs of her home, the home that she never stepped foot out of since she was five.
"Faith! Hurry up, we have to leave!" Dr. Facilier, her father, yelled from the door.
"Go ahead, I'll meet you *third block!" She called back. Faith waited till she heard the door close to walk into the kitchen and grab a not to rotten apple, fresh of the docks. She took one last glance at the house before she strapped on her heels, which was really unfair for the boys at her school, 'cause they added on about two inches, and slipped on her jacket. She swung her leather black bag over one shoulder as she grabbed her cane with the other and walked out the door.
Of course Faith wasn't going to walk to school with her dad, how embarrassing would that be? No, she climbed up the side of the building using the electric boxes and window ledges as footholds and handles. Despite her wearing heals, Faith could leap and run as well as she would in any pair of flats. Making it to school in record time, even a few seconds before her father.
She sat down and relaxed on the rooftop with her legs swinging back and forth over the edge, Faith looked down and saw a sort of familiar purplett walking under her.
"What in Lucifer's name?" Mal cried as the cup disappeared from her fingers. She hesitated for a second before realization hit. "Give it back, Jay," she said, hands on her hips, addressing the empty space on the sidewalk.
He snickered. Faith guessed that it was a lot of fun to mess with Mal and make her mad. "Make me."
"Jay!" she snarled. "Make you what? Bruise? Bleed? Beg? Thief's choice, today."
"Fine. Jeez," he said as he slunk out from the shadows. "Mmm, pressed hot mud, my favorite." He handed her back her cup, feeling wistful.
Mal took a sip and grimaced. "Actually, it's disgusting, you can have it. You look hungry."
"Really?" He perked up. "Thanks, Mal. I was starving."
"Don't thank me, it's particularly awful today. I think they threw some raw toads into the brew this morning," she said, unknowingly causing Faith to snicker.
"Bonus! Extra protein." Amphibians or not, Jay drained it in one shot. He wiped his lips and smiled. "Thanks, you're a pal," he said in all honesty, even though he and Mal weren't friends, from what Faith had heard, although they were partners in crime.
She waited till the walked a few paces before jumping down and silently following after them. Like Jay's, Mal's jeans and jacket pockets were stuffed with all manner of junk, shoplifted from every storefront in town. A knitting needle was sticking out of one pocket, while the other contained what looked like a sword handle.
"Can I trade you a teapot for that old sword?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure," she said, taking a rusty kettle in exchange. "Look what else I got," she said. "Ursula's necklace." She rattled it in the air. "I nabbed it this morning when the old sea witch waved hello."
"Sweet." He nodded. "All I got was a handful of fries. Too bad it can't capture anything anymore, let alone a mermaid's voice."
Mal huffed. "It's still valuable."
"If you say so." He shrugged.
Faith watched the two in amusement, whoever said they weren't friends were right, they were practically siblings. From her few moments of observation Faith could tell that despite whatever mess one would get into the other would help them out.
Whether or not the other would do so in truth or if they would lie and say it was to the others benefit is another story.
Even so, they fell into step on the walk to school. "Heard the news?" Jay asked.
"What news? There's no new news," Mal scoffed, meaning nothing new ever happened on the island. The island's old-fashioned fuzzy-screened televisions only broadcast two channels—Auradon News Network, which was full of do-gooder propaganda, and the DSC, the Dungeon Shopping Channel, which specialized in hidden-lair décor. "And slow down, or we'll get there on time," she added.
They turned off the main road, toward the uneven, broken-down graveyard that was the front lawn of Dragon Hall. The venerable school for the advancement of evil education was located in a former mausoleum, a hulking gray structure with a domed ceiling and a broken-down colonnade, its pediment inscribed with the school's motto: IN EVIL WE TRUST. Scattered around its haunted grounds, instead of the usual tombstones, were doomstones with horrible sayings carved into them. As far as the leaders on this island were concerned, there was never a wrong time to remind its citizens that evil ruled.
"No way, I heard news. Real news," he insisted, his heavy combat boots stomping through the root-ripped graveyard terrain. "Check it out—there's two new girls in class." Faith stiffened, that's already news? What no showing up to class first and then having news spread, like normal?
"Yeah, right." Mal said.
"I'm totally serious," he said, narrowly avoiding stumbling over a doomstone inscribed with the phrase IT IS BETTER TO HAVE NEVER LOVED AT ALL THAN TO BE LOVED.
"New girls? From where, exactly?" Mal asked, pointing to the magical dome that covered the island and shrouded the sky, obscuring the clouds. Nothing and no one came in or out, so there wasn't ever a whole lot of new.
"New to us. One is Dr. Facilier's kid, you know, the one that no one has ever seen? And the other one had been castle-schooled until now, so it's both their first time in the dungeon," said Jay as they approached the wrought-iron gates, and the crowd gathered around the entrance parted to let them through, many of their fellow students clutching their backpacks a little more tightly at the sight of the thieving duo. Meanwhile, Faith carefully weaved through the crowd, keeping her head down and her ears on the two.
"Really." Mal stopped in her tracks. "What do you mean, 'castle-schooled'?" she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"A real princess, the castle-schooled one, is what I've heard. Like, your basic true-love's-kiss-prick-your-finger-spin-your-gold-skip-the-haircut-marry-the-prince-level princess." Castle schooled? Faith wondered. "Think I could lift a crown off her somewhere? Even a half-crown…?"
"A princess?" Mal said sternly. "I don't believe you."
Jay wasn't listening anymore. "I mean, think of the loot she'd have on her! She's got to have a ton of loot, right? Hope she's easy on the eyes! Better yet, on the pockets. I could use an easy mark."
Mal's voice was suddenly acid. "You're wrong. There weren't any princesses on the island, and certainly not any who would dare to show their faces around here.…"
Just as the conversation was starting to get interesting, the bell rung. Faith sighed as the students, along with Mal and Jay, went inside the building. Slowly she followed the crowd, though she immediately entered the bathroom as it appeared and took off into one of the stalls.
Seems like she's still not one for big crowds…
Meanwhile, Evie was enjoying her first day of school so far, she stepped inside her first class and made her way to the nearest open desk, smiling at those who came to gather curiously around her. Everyone was looking at her with such awe and admiration, she seemed to be making waves.
The desk she'd chosen had a remarkably large cauldron and a great view of the professor's lectern. She took a seat, and there was a gasp in the crowd. Wow, these kids sure were easy to please.
Evie was feeling pretty good about her first day until she heard the sound of a throat clearing.
When she looked up, there was a pretty, purple-haired girl standing in front of her cauldron, staring at her with unmistakable venom. Her mother's "mirror" would have had a few choice words about this one, that's for sure. Evie felt a cold dread as the memory of a certain infamous party came flooding back. Maybe if she played dumb and flattered her, the girl wouldn't remember what had happened ten years ago. It was worth a shot.
"I'm Evie. What's your name?" Evie asked innocently, although she knew exactly who was standing in front of her. "And by the way, that jacket is amazing. It looks great on you—I love all the patchwork leathers on it."
"Girl, that's her cauldron. You should bounce," a student Evie would find out later was named Yzla whispered loudly.
"Oh, this is yours…?" Evie asked the purple-haired girl.
The purple-haired girl nodded.
"I had no idea this was your desk, I'm so sorry! But it has such a great view of the lectern," Evie said with her trademarked bright smile, so blinding, it should have come with sunglasses. Evie finally realized why the students had been staring at her. They had been watching a train wreck about to happen.
"Yes, it does," the purple-haired girl replied, her voice soft and menacing. "And if you don't move your blue-haired caboose out of it, you'll get some kind of view, all right." She snarled, brusquely brushing past Evie and noisily plonking her backpack down into the middle of the cauldron.
Evie got the message, grabbed her things, and found an empty cauldron in the back of the classroom, behind a column where she couldn't see the blackboard.
"Is that who I think it is?" she asked the small boy seated next to her, whose hair was black at the roots but white at the tips. Actually, everything he wore was black and white with a splash of red: a fur-collared jacket with one black and one white side and red leather sleeves, a black button-down shirt with streaks of white, and long shorts with one white and one black-and-white leg. It was a pretty cool look. For a bloody skunk.
"If you mean Mal, you're right, and I would stay out of her way if I were you," he said.
"Mal…" Evie breathed, her voice trembling nervously.
"Yeah. Her mom's the Big Bad around here. You know—" He made horn signs with his hands on either side of his head. You didn't need to have lived on the Isle for long to know exactly whom he was talking about. Nobody dared speak her name, not unless absolutely necessary.
Evie gulped. Her first day, and she'd already made the worst enemy in school. It was Maleficent who had banished Evie and her mother ten years ago and caused Evie to grow up alone in a faraway castle. Her own mother might be called Evil Queen, but everyone on the Isle of the Lost knew that Maleficent wore the crown in these parts. From the looks of it, her daughter did the same in the dungeons of Dragon Hall
Carlos De Vil looked up from the contraption he was assembling and shot the new girl a shy smile. "It'll be okay. Mal just likes to be left alone," he said. "She's not as tough as she seems. She only talks a big game."
"She does? What about you?" the blue-haired princess asked.
"I don't have a game. Unless you consider getting beat up and pushed around a game, which in a way I guess it is. But really it's not that entertaining, unless you happen to be the one doing the beating and the pushing."
The boy turned his attention back to the mess of wires in front of him. He was smaller and younger than the rest of the class, but smarter than most of them. He was an AP student: Advanced Penchant (for Evil). It was only right, since the infamous Cruella was his mother.
"I'm Evie. What's your name?" she asked.
"Hi, Evie, I'm Carlos De Vil," he said. "We met once before, at your birthday party." He said.
"Oh. Sorry. I don't remember much about the party. Except how it ended."
Carlos nodded. "Yeah. Anyway, I'm also your neighbor. I live just down the street in Hell Hall."
"You do?" Evie's eyes went wide. "But I thought no one lived there but that crazy old lady and her—"
"Don't say it!" he blurted.
"Dog?" she said at the same time.
Carlos shuddered. "We—we don't have dogs," he said weakly. His mother had told him dogs were vicious pack animals, the most dangerous and terrifying animals on earth.
"But she's always calling someone her pet. I thought you were a d—"
"I told you, don't say it!" warned Carlos. "That word is a trigger for me."
Evie put up her hands. "Okay, okay." Then she winked. "But how do you fit in the crate at night?"
Carlos only glared.
Their first class was Selfishness 101, or "Selfies" for short, taught by Mother Gothel, who took way too many self-portraits with an old Polaroid camera.
The photos were littered around the classroom: Mother Gothel making a duck face, sleepy-eyed Mother Gothel in an "I woke up like this" pic, Mother Gothel in "cobra" pose. But Mother Gothel herself was nowhere to be found. She was always at least a half hour late, and when she finally arrived, she was irritated to find the students there before her. "Have I taught you nothing about being fashionably, annoyingly late to every engagement?" she asked, letting out an exasperated sigh and collapsing dramatically into her chair, one hand fanned over her eyes.
No sooner had she said that did the door open, even though Mother Gothel had indeed locked it when she entered, and a girl with black purple streaked hair with a fringe that covered one of her magenta eyes. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail that reached her hips in the same color streaked dread locks. The whole class stared at her, and her head bowed lower so that her fringe covered the both of her eyes.
Mother Gothel walked to her and looked up at her, seeing as she towered over the adult, and smiled. "Ah, a student who knows how to do it right. You must be one of the new students, Head Master Facilier's daughter, Faith, yes?"
Faith silently nodded.
"Well, take a seat, there should be an empty one somewhere." She said before turning around and writing on the board. Faith walked to the back of the classroom, purposely skipping the cauldron that Evie missed that was in the middle of the class, and to the seat that was on the other side of Evie. Occupied by one of Harriet Hooks pirate followers.
"Could I have this seat?" She asked in a low voice.
The boy looked at her to say a sarcastic remark, but met her eyes and scrabbled to get up. "S-sure, o-of course prett- I mean F-Faith." The boy stammered, still looking in her eyes as he grabbed his bag and scurried to the empty desk.
As the lessons went on Faith began to whittle with a piece of wood as a way to entertain herself.
"Hi," Evie whispered, looking over at Faith. The girl looked up at Evie, gave a small smile and a wave.
"I'm Evie, Evil Queen's daughter, I'm new here to."
Again, all she got was a nod in acknowledgement. Evie frowned a little but pointed over at Carlos and introduced him. "And this is Carlos, Cruella de Vil's son," Faith waved and Carlos waved back. Both teens picked up on Faith being one to not speak.
After that for the next half hour or so they studied Portraits of Evil, comparing the likenesses of the most famous villains in history, many of whom lived on the island and some of whom were their parents. Today's class just happened to feature Cruella De Vil.
Of course.
Carlos knew the portrait by heart, whether or not he was looking at it.
His mother. There she was in all her finery, with her tall hair and her long red car, her eyes wild and her furs flying in the wind.
He shuddered again and went back to tinkering with his machine.
Class ended, and students began to file out of the classroom. Evie asked Carlos what his next subject was, and Faith nodded in a way of saying that she wanted to know too. Both girl looked happy to discover they all had Lady Tremaine for Evil Schemes. "That's another advanced class—you must have a really high EQ," he told them. Only those who boasted off-the-charts evil quotients were allowed to take it. "It's this way," he said, motioning up the stairs.
But before they could get too far, a cold voice cut through the chatter. "Why, if it isn't Carlos De Vil," it said behind them.
Carlos would know that voice anywhere. It was the second-most terrifying on the island. When he turned, Mal was standing right behind him, next to Jay. Carlos automatically checked his pockets to make sure nothing had disappeared.
"Hey, Mal," he said, trying to appear nonchalant. Mal never spoke to anyone except to scare them or to complain that they were in her way. "What's up?"
"Your mom's away at the Spa this weekend, isn't she?" Mal asked, elbowing Jay, who snickered.
Neither paid attention to Faith, who had stepped slightly in front of Carlos and had her cane pointed at their feet.
Carlos nodded. The Spa—really just a bit of warmish steam escaping from the crags of rock in the ruined basement of what had once been a proper building—was Cruella's one bit of comfort, her one reminder of her luxurious past.
How far the De Vils had fallen, just like the rest of the Isle.
"Y-yes," he said uncertainly, unsure if that was the correct answer even though it was the truthful one.
"Right answer," Mal said and she went to pat him on the head. But Faith gripped her wrist and pushed her away with a bit more force than expected. Mal seemed shocked, but recovered quickly, while giving a slight glare. "Anyway, I can't exactly give a party at my place without my mother yelling at everyone, not to mention the whole flying crockery issue."
Carlos sighed. Like the rest of the Isle, he knew parties brought out Maleficent's worst behavior. There was nothing she hated more than people openly having fun.
"And we can't have it at Jay's because his dad will just try to hypnotize everyone into being his servants again," Mal continued.
"Totally," agreed Jay.
Carlos nodded again, although he wasn't sure where this was leading.
"Great. Perfect. Party at your house. Tonight."
Party? At his house? Did he hear that right?
"Wait, what? Tonight?" He blanched. "I can't have a party! I mean, you should understand, my mom doesn't really like it when people come over—and, um, I've got a lot of work to do—I have to fluff her furs, iron her undergarments, I mean—" He gulped, embarrassed.
Mal ignored him. "Spread the news. Hell Hall's having a hell-raiser." She seemed to warm to the thought. "Get the word out. Activate the twilight bark, or whatever it is you puppies do."
"Bowwow," barked Jay with a laugh.
Carlos glared at the two of them, in spite of himself.
"There's a party?" Evie asked shyly. Carlos had forgotten she was standing right next to him, and he jumped at the sound of her voice.
"Eavesdrop, much?" Mal said, snarling at her although it was obvious Evie couldn't help it, as she was standing right next to them.
Before Evie could protest, Mal sighed. "Of course there is. The party of the year. A real rager, didn't you hear?" Mal looked her up and down and shook her head sadly. "Oh, I guess you didn't hear." She mock-winced, looking at Carlos conspiratorially. "Everyone's going to be there." She turned to Faith, who was openly glaring. "And that includes you little miss always hated crowds," she mocked. Faith frowned at this.
"She is-They are?" Carlos looked confused. "But you only just told me to have it—" He quickly got the message. "Everyone," he agreed.
Evie smiled. "Sounds awesome. I haven't been to a party in a long, long time."
Mal raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sorry. This is a very exclusive party, and I'm afraid you didn't get an invitation."
"And invitation does not have to be accepted." A new voice said. They looked over to see a boy dressed head to toe in red with short blacked bobbed hair and bright florescent green eyes.
"And who are you?" James asked, looking at the boy with an intimidating glare.
The boy wasn't intimidated in the least, he swung his arm around Faith's shoulder, though it was awkward since she was a bit taller, and answered, "Hook, Blade Hook. Faith's voice and best friend, and I know for a fact, that she does not and will not want to attend your Howler."
"Well she better, or there will be consequences." Mal said.
With those parting words, Mal went ahead of them into the classroom—she was in their next class too, of course her EQ was legendary—and left them to each other. Jay went to leave, but not before walking up to Blade. His mouth opened, probably to insult the young pirate, but Faith stepped forward and met Jay head on, she easily matched his height, so the only intimidating stature he held to her was his muscle, and Faith had a secret that even matched that.
He growled, surprised that she neither blushed nor flinched away from him, before walking away from the four.
