Our final Guardian's session has arrived!

(I just said that because I have nothing to say)

Session #8: Nikolai St. North

The woman clasped her hands, taking a glance at her Macbook that sat at the side of the desk. She adjusted her glasses and addressed the person in front of her, "Nicholas st. North."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Uh . . .da, but proper name is Nikolai because I am russkiy." (russian)

"Yes," she muttered, typing on her laptop and clicking a few times.

North looked around, feeling the weight of the silence too much; the place was too bright, too white—it was missing a dash of red. He asked, "With rezpect, baryshnya, but how can von your age zee us spirits?" (Ms.)

Nourie raised a brow over the rim of her screen, "I'm not that old, Mr. North."

The big man decided to shut up then, he never possessed good social skills anyways.

There was a loud bang and he looked up just in time to see Nourie's hand leave the closed laptop and rest on the desk. She eyed him with a leveled stare. "So, Mr. North, could you explain to me why you are infatuated with the color red?"

"Vell," he said with a slight shrug, "is ze color I have seen a lot for entire life."

"What do you mean?"

North stood up and pulled out a paper from one of his inner pockets, he flicked it out of its folds and cleared his throat before starting,

Krasnyy tsvet iz doma

eto tsvetteplogo kamina v zimniy period

yavlyayetsya tsvetom gosudarstvennogo flaga

eto tsvet zhiznenno

i eto tsvet Rozhdestva.

chto by my delali bez nego?

The woman did a face palm, "Okay, Mr. North?"

He smiled as he sat down, "Yes, your commentaries?"

"That's too far. You've gone way too far."

"Vhat?" he asked, aghast, "But it vas only leetle poem, not veery long. Iz veery nice in my opinion."

"Because it's written in red ink?"

Moment of silence.

"How did you kno'?"

"I have my ways. Now," she said as she walked towards the door and flipped the switch, turning off the lights, before standing in the middle of the room, "Since you are in too deep, I'll take the easiest approach and hopefully you shall be saved from your own demons."

"And vhat approach vould that be, baryshnya Zerapist?"

She let out a small groan and rubbed her forehead, hearing him mangle her title, before composing herself. With one hand behind her back, she pulled down a string from the ceiling with her other, revealing a white canvas. Nourie clicked her fingers and immediately a slideshow appeared with the title written ironically in red. Why You Should not Infatuate with the Color Red.

"A presentation?"

A while later. . .

Jack looked at the door, watching colors flash from under the door. He glanced at Bunny, "What do you think is happening in there?"

Bunny shrugged, "I dunno, but I'm betting that North'll drive her mad before she does t'him."

Tooth nodded, "Me too," she agreed.

Bunny shared a sly smile with her before turning to the rest, "It'll be ten bucks if we win, which we will." He glanced at Sandy, "You in, mate?"

Sandy nodded with an enthusiastic smile.

Jack looked them over, "Why are you even betting? No one challenged you and I'm sure we all agree that North will make that woman cut her hair—for real this time. The guy has never lost his temper before."

"Perhaps." Pitch commented vainly from his place, "But there is also the possibility that she would drive him furious. She's done with most of us, even me."

"Exactly, Pitch is totally right," Jack said, "twenty bucks if we win, Bunny." He grinned evilly, "Twenty bucks, from each one of you."

Pitch smirked, "I like where your head's at, Frost," he turned to the others, "But make that thirty."

Bunny and Tooth exchanged a look, the Pooka crossed his furry arms, "You seem a bi' too confident for a possibility tha' barely 'as a chance in winning. An' by the way, each one of you'll be givin' us fifty bucks."

Pitch scoffed, "Nonsense, rabbit, our possibility has the same if not higher chance than yours ever happening. We'll be waiting for eighty dollars from each when this is over."

Jack tapped his chin in concentration then said, "Eighty bucks . . . and one request fill for each one of us."

Tooth actually snorted, "Don't get ahead of yourself, Jack, you guys are much too cocky." She looked up, as though searching for something in her mind. A few of the fairies with her chattered and she nodded before grinning in a way that made everyone take a step back, "Each one of you will give in one hundred dollars . . . in cents, plus working on elephant cleaning for a month."

While the winter boy paled, Pitch's smug smirk grew more terrifying, "A good choice, Queen Toothiana, but I myself have a few changes to make in our deal." He leaned a bit closer, "Each one of those who are with the rabbit's theory will give each one of us twice the amount you decide on . . ."

Jack cocked his head to the side, "Huh?"

Pitch sighed in exasperation, "If we win, then say, Bunny, will give me and you each two hundred dollars, plus Tooth and Sandy, so in total we'd have sixteen hundred dollars." He then gave Tooth a sly look, "And as for you, your highness," he did a mock bow that made a vein on Tooth's forehead pulse, "you would," Pitch let out a snicker, "sweep my entire Globe room." He grinned, showing off his pointy teeth, "Without using your wings once."

The winter spirit held up his hand, "Me too! Only I want Kangaroo," he shot the Easter Bunny the same look he'd wear before throwing a snowball at an unsuspecting individual, "to— . . . no, I want for next Easter all of the eggs to have a winter theme, and I wanna make a snowstorm better than '68, and Bunny to dress up as a Kangaroo, and to go around until Easter saying 'All Hail the Awesome and Awe-inspiring Guardian of Fun and winter extraordinaire, an—"

Pitch clomped his hand on Jack's mouth and shot him a flat look, "Yeah, don't overdo it."

At that moment, the office door opened quietly, and a familiar figure came out. Everyone watched North with such intensity he looked up with . . .

A scowl.

Pitch and Jack shared a high-five, while Bunny and Tooth went bug-eyed. Dramatic music came to life as Bunny fell on his knees and held his fists up, cursing anything he thought of, Tooth was about to faint until Pitch smugly presented her with a broom. She gave him her scariest glare and her wings flared open dangerously, it was only a few seconds later and her tiny fist went flying into his jaw, sending him flying into a nearby column and the broom clattering on the ground.

Jack held out his hand, "We'll be expecting the deal tomorrow, at Pitch's place when Tooth's—" he noted her scowl and the coins dangerously flipping in her hand, "—filling out her part."

Sandy had flown over to Jack's side with a smug smile directed at the other two, everyone who had participated in the betting game gave him a shocked look.

Bunny was the first to break the silence, "Sandy, ya traitorous ratbag!" he said while pointing his finger accusingly at him.

"He has a point, Sandy," Jack said, "You can't change teams after the game's done."

Sandy shook his head with a smile and did a motion of zipping his lips.

Pitch, who had returned from his fall, understood what his counterpart was saying, "Ah, yes, a good move, my friend." He turned to the others, "Sandy agreed to join the game, but if I recall correctly, he never said which side he was on."

Tooth looked at the dreamweaver, "Wait a minute, Sandy, you were with them this whole time?!"

He nodded and hid his mouth, as though he was trying to stifle his snickering.

She let out a battle cry and pulled out her swords before flying after him. The others watched them leave before following them out.

North scratched his head, his anger long forgotten, "Chto ya propustil?"

A couple of days later…

In front of a white desk with a Macbook Air sat five chairs, each occupied by certain individuals.

The person in the chair on the opposite side of the desk swiveled around ominously, the person's face was shrouded with shadows. A finger stretched and pressed a button on her desk, lighting the room. Said person drummed her fingertips together as her elbows rested on either one of the chair's armrests. Her actions sent frost, fur, feathers, sand, and shadows pricking in fear.

"Well, well, well, didn't expect you lot to be back so soon."

Chto ya propustil?: What did I miss?

Poem translation: (written and translated by nMn, Moonlight, in other words, me)

Red is the color of home

Is the color of fire in winter

Is the color of the national flag

Is the color of life

Is the color of Christmas.

What would we do without it?

God, I feel so damn creative, GIMME AN APPLAUSE!

I feel BLOODY accomplished (please get the pun, please)

'nuff said.