READ BEFORE STARTING PLEASE:
**Important to state that all the main characters are young adults around 20 in this Fanfic**
Amu Hinamori is Ettie Maxwell
Ami Hinamori is Abigail Maxwell
Tadase Hotori is Thomas Hardwicke
Nadeshiko/ Nagihiko Fujisaki is Natalie/ Nathan Fairwell
Kukai Soma is Lucian Sanders
Yaya Yuiki is Savannah Young
Ikuto Tsukiyomi is Leander Jameson
(All the characters will be introduced in the chapter will be listed at the beginning so as to prevent confusion.)
The streets of London were quiet as Ettie walked to the park, the spring of 1852 gray like the worn streets and smoggy sky. The sound of an argument going on caught the young woman's attention, and she saw a newsboy being bothered by two of the Whitechapel men. Whitechapel was the slums, the place where no respected personage would ever set foot or be caught dead in. Marching over with fire in her eyes, Ettie hit one of the thugs with her parasol, creating a satisfying thump.
"Bothering a poor lad like him, some men you are. Be on with yourselves, nothing for you here," she sniffed, hitting the other with the parasol for emphasis. They scuttled off, murmuring 'wasn't that the Lady Maxwell?' 'I hear she's no lady, and isn't this the proof?' The Lady Maxwell herself began to saunter off, people staring as the newsboy sang her praises.
The park was crowded with the usual London hustle and bustle, and of course, people were already talking about her chasing off the thugs with only a parasol. Ettie sighed, letting the sun warm her face as she listened to more selfish rumors. It would always be like this, she would do something, and then all of London would speak of it, the story getting wilder each time. Next thing you know, Ettie thought to herself, eyes drifting around, I'll have defeated some great, ravenous beast from Asia or something of the like. Like a tiger, perhaps, or one of their dragons.
Her fame had been born when she was, the daughter of a writer for the news. Her father had a column in every edition, always something to say. The people loved his way of putting things, the way he could angle everything so that it was right. So, when she had appeared with her wild attitude and rash behavior, none were even close to taken off guard. The problem for Ettie was, she wasn't that person. Really, she would rather sit with a novel in the park with a gentleman and a picnic lunch and fan herself while she pretended that he was witty. Or maybe go to grand masquerades and dance the night away, her dance card filled with the names of hopefuls who had no chance with her. That would never be the case, however, not with this identity people had built for her.
Later that afternoon, Ettie was on her way back to the place where she had told the coachman to pick her up when she saw the woman. She was exotic, though from where Ettie couldn't be sure, and she had all sorts of strange oils and cards on her table. Drawn to the mystery of it, she approached, eyes wary.
"What've we here? A pretty young lady of London, come to see wares? Come dear, I'll show ye the future for you no charge," cooed the woman, thick accent making her English hard to understand. Curious, Ettie nodded and sat in front of the window on the plush ottoman that had been set there. The woman took her hand and traced the lines of it with her long nails, causing the Lady Maxwell to shiver from the feel. "Listen here, girl. A guardian spirit is on your heels, in fact, not one but many. Be aware of your guardians, girl, they'll be who you are not but long to be. You are not your outer face, Ettie Maxwell."
Ettie jumped up, upsetting some of the cards on the table. She jerked her hand back, with an exclamation of "what drivel!" before storming off, quite unnerved. Surely that woman had just heard her name spoken about town, after all, she had to be a sham. There was no such thing as 'guardian spirits'. But how had she known that she was not who people made her out to be? How could anyone have known that?
OoOoO
Ettie did not recount her run in with the fortune teller as she sat at supper, her family busily talking. Her younger sister, Abigail, was a mere five years and speaking about some animal she had spotted over the course of the day, and her mother and father were fawning over her as she struggled with her words. They looked at Ettie, who remained silent as she ate, and whispered to each other. She stonily ignored them, eyes fixed on the doorway, wondering how soon she could leave.
She finished as hastily as she could, suddenly feeling ill as the fortune teller came to mind again. She had the maid come early and help her into her nightclothes, and Ettie lay awake in her bed. Be aware of your guardians, girl, they'll be not who you are but who you long to be. She turned over, trying to block those words out of her head. But strange magic was this, that she could not forget the words of a sham. Trying once more to clear her head, she fell into a restless sleep, with odd dreams of…
OoOoO
"Eggs!" Ettie jumped out of bed, staring at the three eggs that lay on her pillow when she awoke. They each had a playing card design on them, one of hearts, one of spades, and one of clubs. Hastily she covered them as the maid came in to dress her, and for once she could think of something other than the horrid feel of the corset being laced onto her. As soon as the maid was gone, Ettie rushed over and picked them up, eyes round. Surely she was still asleep… No, the corset was definitely there.
She went down to breakfast, thinking of the eggs she had put in a pocket in her skirt, her secret. What had happened? What had that fortune teller done? She was going to go back and see what was going on; that she had decided. The cook served the breakfast plates, and Ettie stared.
"Fresh eggs!" The cook sang cheerfully, scampering back to the kitchen as Ettie turned a greenish hue. The family turned to her concernedly, and she blinked, growing dizzy.
"Ettie, dear, quite alright?" Her mother asked, pressing a hand to her daughter's head. In response, Ettie muttered something about a need for fresh air and stumbled out, not sure what to do. She headed back towards the booth of the gypsy, and stopped dead. There was no one there. She was still consumed in this thought when a young, blonde man stumbled into her, his warm eyes filled with concern.
"Terribly sorry, Miss, I wasn't looking where I was going," he apologized, and the party behind him laughed and apologized with him, calling him dimwitted. There was a boy with thick russet locks and mossy eyes, and a beautiful girl with raven hair and dark eyes, and a younger one with sandy hair and caramel eyes. "My name is Thomas Hardwicke, and these are my good friends Lucian Sanders, Natalie Fairwell, and Savannah Young. He put a hand out to steady her, and Ettie knocked it away, surprising them all.
"I have no business with you, Mister Hardwicke, so if you'll let me on my way," she said coolly. His innocent eyes grew wide, and he stared after her as she walked off.
"Oh dear, and I'd hoped to have a better start with her. Natalie, do you think she really is the one with the three eggs?" Thomas bowed his blonde head, and the dark haired girl nodded solemnly, eyes on the retreating figure of the Lady Maxwell.
Why did I do that? I'm the one who's always wanted to be more ladylike, and there stood a handsome man with his hand out to me, and I knocked it away! Why do I always end up doing stupid things like that? He was polite and fetching and so kind… Why did I do that? Ettie berated herself as she sat in her spot in the park, right as a whisper ran around the people of the park.
"An address from young Mister Thomas Hardwicke, I hear. I wager most of us will stick around to look at his pretty face," whispered a young woman that was a little bit over from Ettie, and she blinked. Of course! Thomas Hardwicke, son of the mayor and… Oh, god. She had just been rude to the son of the mayor.
She headed over to the holding place of the address, mostly with intentions of apologizing. After all, her treatment of him had been undeserved anyway. She was just so on edge with the whole occult business that had started yesterday.
"Thank you for attending, ladies and gentleman. Today's address is over the concern with the law regarding…" His words faded to Ettie as she watched his face, the animated way his hands moved, the light that seemed to emanate from him. He was completely different from the shy boy that she had just met a little while ago, and she found herself captivated. A flush rose to her cheeks as his eyes met hers and she ducked her head, but he smiled charmingly all the same. "Any opposing opinions are welcome now, so please state in an orderly fashion," he welcomed them, arms wide. A million thoughts drifted through Ettie's head, apologies, declarations of her intentions, perhaps. Oh, too soon for that! She had just met him, and yet…
Just change your character if you can't say what you want to, drifted a voice in her head, and she felt a funny feeling in her stomach. Ettie blinked as she realized she had no control over herself now, that she was no longer pulling the strings and could not stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. She raised her hand and stood mechanically, trying snap out of whatever had possessed her.
"I would like to apologize for my prior behavior, Mister Hardwicke, please forgive me. I actually find you quite handsome and charming," she blurted, then covered her mouth in horror as the possession faded away. His eyes widened, and Ettie could feel herself turning beet red.
"I appreciate your sentiments but at the moment we are discussing serious matters, Lady Maxwell, so if you would please keep from straying from the topic at hand it would be greatly appreciated. If you must know, my affections belong to another. I am dreadfully sorry," he replied coldly, and his three companions stood with him, hands over their mouths in shock. Ettie stood and ran out of the hall, wondering what had taken over her. Whatever it was, it was dreadful and terrifying and… now she was humiliated. I want to hide somewhere where no one will find me…
She stumbled, realizing all too late that she was falling into a hole in the street where she had been running. Ettie tumbled down, and was shocked to land on something soft. Alarmed, she noted that she had fallen on a boy who appeared to have been sleeping, and her breath caught. He had sheets of inky, blue black hair falling into intensely blue eyes. He had a narrow face and those piercing eyes held a lazy irritation in them.
"Ah, a good dream never will last long, will it," he muttered cryptically, causing Ettie to draw the conclusion that he had indeed been sleeping and was still half asleep. She recognized him from about town, and she couldn't help but wonder what a young man was doing sleeping in a hole. He stared at her, and Ettie decided that he was quite strange indeed. This was confirmed when he touched his nose to her strawberry hair and breathed in, then drew back. "The lady smells of birth. You have a character, don't you?"
Her eyes widened and widened further as he began searching under her skirts, and she tried to pull away but he was very strong. His hands ran up her pale legs as he muttered to himself, and eventually he found the pocket. He reached his long fingers into it, and Ettie scrambled away as he drew out the heart egg. He studied it, and she tried to snatch it back with an exclamation of "thief!" They were distracted, however, when a man with a shovel began pouring dirt back into the hole, taking no notice of them. Ettie began coughing; the dirt was choking her. That's when the egg decided to split open, and the boy's eyes grew round.
A young lady about the side of the boy's fist came out, dressed in pale pink and a heart adorning her collar. The same odd feeling as before came over her, and she could hear the voice inside her head. Character Change! Jump! It wasn't as though Ettie was given much choice, however, because the small lady had propelled her up, and she jumped higher than she ever thought possible. I'm your guardian character, and my name is Rachel.
Ettie stared, for balance on top of the building beside her was perched the very smug boy from the hole. But now, there were cat's ears that looked natural atop his head and a matching tail, and she let out a gasp. What odd enchantment! He also had a small person, but this one was a cat with a human-like face who was speaking aloud to his partner.
"What'll be done now? Are you needing to full transform?"
"No, Silas, I won't be needing to. Not yet," the boy sighed. So that furry thing's name was Silas, and this one Rachel… Just how many of these things were there? He turned to her. "You're Ettie Maxwell, right? Watch your step, mind you," he warned her, and she inhaled in wonder to see that she was still afloat in the air. He pulled her onto the building, his hot breath stirring her hair. She struggled away, and she was still squirming when a glowing scepter cut between them. She looked and was surprised to see Mister Hardwicke, and was even more surprised when he pulled her against him.
"Targeting the new ones is strictly against the tenets, light-fingered tomcat," he looked menacingly at the cat-boy, who laughed.
"Juvenile king," he remarked, then postured himself for battle.