Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the OC.
Warning: This is written as a story not a fic. So if you don't like it, deal.
FYI: Reviews and even flames are welcome.
BTW: I'm looking for an editor. The only thing I can offer in payment is all chapters early.
Ch 1
Voltaire looked at her friend disbelief etched in her face. It was cold, the middle of autumn in upstate New York. The multi-colored fall leaves crunched underfoot as they walked. Voltaire's platinum blonde hair, which she had streaked red as an act of defiance to her aunt, who she lived with, had escaped the braid she had put it in earlier. "I'm telling you, I've figured out how to open the gates to parallel worlds. Look if you don't believe me, come by after you finish your trig homework. I'll prove it to you," her friend Wayra was telling her. Voltaire sighed as they came to her boring looking patch of suburbia. "All right, I'll come. See you around eightish?" Voltaire said as she ran up the steps to where her aunt waited on the steps. Her aunt was a homely woman, with long burnished gold hair and laughing blue eyes. Today she wore a long skirt with a tropical looking top. She always had her own sense of style. Voltaire was used to it. She had lived with her aunt as long as she could remember. She didn't even have pictures of her parents. "Voltaire, darling, welcome back. I trust your day was uneventful? I'm glad the plans you made were after dinner. I fixed an excellent crab salad," her aunt told her cheerfully as she climbed onto the porch. "Yum. I've got trig, so I'll be in my room for a while," Voltaire said kissing her aunt's cheek before entering the house. She had a long night ahead.
Voltaire groaned as she looked up at her reflection in the mirror on her vanity. She was pretty. There was no doubt about that. Her aunt often said she had her mother's silver eyes. Her lips were full and red, not the pout that most girls tried for. She also had the knack of being able to keep a tan despite the winter months spent inside. But that was not why she groaned. Silently she cursed herself for letting her friend Karla borrow her favorite lipstick. Voltaire had an undying crush on Wayra's older brother. So she always out herself through hell when she was going over to her house. At least she had her clothes in order. Tonight she wore a tasteful black sweater that clung nicely to her curves, a gray skirt that came only mid-thigh, and a pair of Gucci boots that came up clean to her knees. She added the final touch deciding that the lipstick was no big deal. It was a long silver chain that held an onyx pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. It was the last remaining thing she had of her mother. Hearing the beep of her alarm clock as it went off to tell her she had just enough time to make Wayra's house without being late, she grabbed her purse, and dashed down the stairs.
Voltaire sat on Wayra's bed messing with the purse she had strapped to her side and watched as she light the candle's before her black altar in a special order. Voltaire wasn't really paying that much attention, because Wayra's brother Nick was helping. Nick had a steady girlfriend for over three years, but Voltaire felt that she could still hold out. He was cute in boyish sort of way, with brown cully hair, and light blue eyes. Suddenly the room went frigid. Voltaire shivered and wished she had brought a coat. She looked up over the top of the altar and her mouth formed a silent O. Above the altar a large black portal loomed. It didn't seem sinister, but seemed to pulse with something. She had the urge to walk up to it and touch it. She didn't know she was acting on the urge until Wayra put a stilling hand on her arm. "I don't know where it leads, dummy. If you were to just walk into it, I'd never be able to get you out again. Like I could remember the order I lit the candles," Wayra said rolling her eyes. Nick just shrugged. "Don't be stupid. I always remember the pattern.," Nick told them. He reached for one of his sister's pencils. Without warning he threw it through the portal. It disappeared, and Voltaire had the feeling it would never be seen again. "I can pull it right out." Nick reached his hand in and pulled it back out the pencil clasped firmly in one hand. He held it up to the light as though to study it. Waiting to get a better look, Voltaire moved so that her back was to the portal.
"Nifty," Wayra said a smile on her lips. "Now give me back my pencil." Wayra said jumping to reach it. Her hand eye coordination bad, she missed and knocked into Voltaire, who ended up knocking into the altar, and right through the portal.
Ch 1
Voltaire looked at her friend disbelief etched in her face. It was cold, the middle of autumn in upstate New York. The multi-colored fall leaves crunched underfoot as they walked. Voltaire's platinum blonde hair, which she had streaked red as an act of defiance to her aunt, who she lived with, had escaped the braid she had put it in earlier. "I'm telling you, I've figured out how to open the gates to parallel worlds. Look if you don't believe me, come by after you finish your trig homework. I'll prove it to you," her friend Wayra was telling her. Voltaire sighed as they came to her boring looking patch of suburbia. "All right, I'll come. See you around eightish?" Voltaire said as she ran up the steps to where her aunt waited on the steps. Her aunt was a homely woman, with long burnished gold hair and laughing blue eyes. Today she wore a long skirt with a tropical looking top. She always had her own sense of style. Voltaire was used to it. She had lived with her aunt as long as she could remember. She didn't even have pictures of her parents. "Voltaire, darling, welcome back. I trust your day was uneventful? I'm glad the plans you made were after dinner. I fixed an excellent crab salad," her aunt told her cheerfully as she climbed onto the porch. "Yum. I've got trig, so I'll be in my room for a while," Voltaire said kissing her aunt's cheek before entering the house. She had a long night ahead.
Voltaire groaned as she looked up at her reflection in the mirror on her vanity. She was pretty. There was no doubt about that. Her aunt often said she had her mother's silver eyes. Her lips were full and red, not the pout that most girls tried for. She also had the knack of being able to keep a tan despite the winter months spent inside. But that was not why she groaned. Silently she cursed herself for letting her friend Karla borrow her favorite lipstick. Voltaire had an undying crush on Wayra's older brother. So she always out herself through hell when she was going over to her house. At least she had her clothes in order. Tonight she wore a tasteful black sweater that clung nicely to her curves, a gray skirt that came only mid-thigh, and a pair of Gucci boots that came up clean to her knees. She added the final touch deciding that the lipstick was no big deal. It was a long silver chain that held an onyx pendant in the shape of a crescent moon. It was the last remaining thing she had of her mother. Hearing the beep of her alarm clock as it went off to tell her she had just enough time to make Wayra's house without being late, she grabbed her purse, and dashed down the stairs.
Voltaire sat on Wayra's bed messing with the purse she had strapped to her side and watched as she light the candle's before her black altar in a special order. Voltaire wasn't really paying that much attention, because Wayra's brother Nick was helping. Nick had a steady girlfriend for over three years, but Voltaire felt that she could still hold out. He was cute in boyish sort of way, with brown cully hair, and light blue eyes. Suddenly the room went frigid. Voltaire shivered and wished she had brought a coat. She looked up over the top of the altar and her mouth formed a silent O. Above the altar a large black portal loomed. It didn't seem sinister, but seemed to pulse with something. She had the urge to walk up to it and touch it. She didn't know she was acting on the urge until Wayra put a stilling hand on her arm. "I don't know where it leads, dummy. If you were to just walk into it, I'd never be able to get you out again. Like I could remember the order I lit the candles," Wayra said rolling her eyes. Nick just shrugged. "Don't be stupid. I always remember the pattern.," Nick told them. He reached for one of his sister's pencils. Without warning he threw it through the portal. It disappeared, and Voltaire had the feeling it would never be seen again. "I can pull it right out." Nick reached his hand in and pulled it back out the pencil clasped firmly in one hand. He held it up to the light as though to study it. Waiting to get a better look, Voltaire moved so that her back was to the portal.
"Nifty," Wayra said a smile on her lips. "Now give me back my pencil." Wayra said jumping to reach it. Her hand eye coordination bad, she missed and knocked into Voltaire, who ended up knocking into the altar, and right through the portal.