Heeeeey, everyone! Sorry this took so long to get out. Been busy with school and our play (Once Upon a Mattress) and other random stuff. You know how it gets. Anywho. On we go, wheeeeee!
Disclaimer: Sita owns Mayfly and no one else (Mayfly: And aren't I just SO much fun to have around?). Everything/one else belongs to Disney and/or their respective owners. Unless everything goes according to plan... -shifty eyes- ... I mean... yeah...
Warnings: Language
Angelsight
Chapter III
The residents of Manhattan, of New York, of the world, had all been asleep for quite a while. It was "the witching hour," the time between midnight and dawn, where the darkness holds an abnormal blue tint, and it feels as though anything can happen.
And it usually does, unknown to the humans, fast asleep in their beds.
The lights had long since been extinguished. The city lay, dark and mute, while the newsboys slept.
However, quite a few beds remained empty; their would-be occupants sat quietly in a circle on the floor. Sleep was no longer an option.
Racetrack, considerably paler than usual, stared blankly at the ceiling, half of an old cigar dangling from his lips. He raised a hand to light it but quickly gave up; his hand shook too badly to produce a steady flame. The cigar fell to the floor, unnoticed by its temporarily mute owner.
Pie Eater, on the other hand, practically vibrated with excitement. He grinned, his eyes shining, and quickly ran his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. "Snitch was right the whole time," he whispered to himself, vaguely awe-struck. "He was tellin' the truth... all of it. All of it was true."
Specs stared at the floor and thoughtfully chewed on his lower lip. Frowning, he cleaned his glasses and then drew his knees into his chest. When he wrapped his arms around them, he took on the appearance of a frightened, vulnerable little boy. "I don't know, guys. I just don't know about this. It's gotta be a trick or something, huh? I mean, this ain't real, right?"
"You know damn good and well that it's real, Specs. You know as good as I do. You can feel it, and don't tell me you can't." Mush never once looked at the dark-haired boy as he spoke; he stared, entranced, at the winged girl hovering near the ceiling as tears streamed down his cheeks. Mush didn't exactly know why he was crying. After all, he wasn't sad. The curly-haired boy blinked suddenly. He'd heard of people being so happy that they'd cried, but that had only happened in stories he'd heard. He didn't think that actual people could ever be that happy. Certainly, a simple newsboy like himself couldn't be that happy. However, he couldn't think of any other explanation as the tears continued to fall.
Jack sat a bit farther away with his back towards the other boys. His expression was not one of rapture or excitement or even confusion. His brown eyes instead held an expression of anger, irritation. He sat, hunched over, and glared silently at the bunk nearest to him.
And the winged girl sitting on it glared right back.
Her near-black eyes narrowed into slits as she shook her auburn hair back behind her shoulders. Her dress was long, white, and billowy with sleeves the same size, color, and consistency. A black corset-like apparatus sat, laced up tightly over the top of the dress. An overskirt of the same color billowed around her as well, though it did not quite reach the tops of her scuffed, black boots. She frowned and pursed her lips.
"You can stare at me all you'd like, but it won't make me go away. Though, if it will make you feel more secure, you're welcome to keep doing it." Her lips quirked into a smug smirk.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Great. An angel with an attitude problem."
The girl's jaw dropped. "I have an attitude problem?"
"Shortie has an idea," the other girl said, landing silently on the floor. She adjusted the pristine, white apron on her lavender dress before placing her hands on her hips. "Let's all stop arguing and figure out what the hell is going on." She grinned cheekily before struggling to climb the bunk bed, a task that her rather short stature made difficult. Finally, with a determined grunt, she managed to scramble onto the mattress next to the other girl.
"Oh, great, Shortie and Raven are taking care of things."
"What is this world comin' to?"
Mayfly and Sapphy giggled wildly as they floated through the open window, followed closely by Stage, Lute, and Smalltalk. Blink and Snitch, wide-eyed, tripped inside after them.
"You drank it? All of you?" Blink asked quietly.
The boys, save for Jack who continued to glare, nodded mutely.
Snitch chewed on his lip. "That's bad."
"No, ya think?"
The taller of the angels on the bed, Raven, raised an eyebrow.
"I hate to be rude," she began, "but would someone mind telling me what the hell is happening?"
The five angels obliged.
"Up and at 'em, boys, let's get movin'!"
The room of boys let out their customary groans as Kloppman cheerfully shook them all awake.
Racetrack reluctantly cracked open his eyes, yawned, and sat up, blinking blearily.
He stopped breathing when he noticed Sapphy curled up next to him, her arms wrapped around his legs.
"Shit!" he yelped. The boys around him raised their eyebrows but said nothing. Mentally cursing his stupidity, he leaned forward and gently shook the blond girl awake.
"Jus' a little more..."
"What are you doing?!" he hissed. Sapphy lifted her head and yawned before frowning in confusion.
"I was sleepin', but you've taken care of that."
"I mean why are you sleepin' where you're sleepin'?!"
"This is where I always sleep."
Racetrack stared. "Wrapped around my legs like that?!"
Sapphy frowned and scrubbed at her eyes. "Well, you're warm."
"Would you mind too much if I took my legs back?"
The blond girl gave an exaggerated sigh, sat up, and stretched her wings. "It'll be hard learnin' to get on without your legs, but I'll survive somehow," she replied dryly. She glanced at the bed above her, leaned back, and began kicking it violently. "Hey, Mayfly, you dead up there?"
Racetrack stared, wide-eyed..
Sapphy blinked. "What? She ain't gonna wake up any other way."
"... you're a bitch, Sapphy."
"I love you, too."
Quite suddenly, a blur of red flashed by Racetrack's bunk before landing on the floor with an unceremonious thump. Sapphy got to her feet and rolled her eyes, hands on her hips. "Now, you're just bein' melodramatic!"
"You know, that really hurt."
"That's because you fell out of a bunk," Raven chimed in, attempting to fix her mussed hair in a mirror and sighing helplessly when her reflection failed to appear.
As the angels continued to chatter and mock one another playfully, the seven newsboys stared, dumbfounded. It looked like any other normal morning in the Lodging House... except for the winged girls who fluttered and slipped between the half-dressed newsboys as though they'd been doing it for years - which, Racetrack realized, they had.
He watched in stunned silence as Smalltalk, humming softly to herself, arranged Pie's clothes and shoes on his bunk. Lute fussed over Snitch, fiddling with his hair and straightening his clothes. Shortie, slightly exasperated, attempted to drag a soundly-sleeping Mush from his bunk while Stage calmly scooped Specs's glasses off of the floor and handed them to him with a grin.
"Are you gonna sit there all day, or do you plan to get dressed?" Sapphy asked, raising an eyebrow as she attempted to ignore the whispered, yet heated, argument between Jack and Raven.
Racetrack blinked, startled.
Sapphy snickered, shook her head, and fluttered towards the doorway.
Shaking away the last remnants of his shock, Racetrack clambered out of his bunk and began groping about for his clothes. He stopped when a callused hand came to rest on his shoulder.
Snitch grinned sheepishly at him. "Are you gonna be okay?"
Racetrack stared for a few moments, then sighed and fished a cigar out of the cup on the night stand. He carefully lit it, then sighed, smoke curling around his head like a living creature following its master. "I'll learn to deal. It's just... it's creepy, you know?"
"I know."
Racetrack smirked. "I know you know." He started towards the washroom, puffing on his cigar, and left Snitch smiling a lopsided smile at his back.
"Snitch! Hey, Snitch!" The blue-eyed thief turned, fighting the urge to stare as Smalltalk hopped from bunk to bunk, singing gibberish at the top of her lungs.
"Heya, Skitts!" Skittery smiled broadly and Snitch couldn't help but smile with him. Most of the other boys accused Skittery of being moody and bad-tempered, but he was never anything less than cheerful when he was around Snitch. "How are you?"
"I'm okay. But, listen, I was wonderin' if you wanted to sell with me today."
Snitch grinned and started to accept until he noticed Lute fluttering behind Skittery, shaking her head. "Not today, Snitch. We need to go back to that shop."
He immediately forced his eyes back to Skittery, who had turned to follow Snitch's gaze. He turned back, confused.
"Um... I ain't gonna be able to do it today, Skittery. I have... other stuff I gotta do."
Skittery's face fell. "Oh. Well, all right. But if you change your mind, come find me, okay?"
"Okay!" Skittery smiled again, then headed for the door.
Lute watched him go, then smiled. "I like him. He's a good boy. And I think he's good for you."
Snitch blinked. "Good for me?"
"You two only got to be good friends a few months ago. Ever since then, you've... changed. For the better." She shrugged and cocked her head to the side. "But I don't know how. You seem brighter."
"And Lute's rambling like Smalltalk."
"Shut your mouth, Raven!" She grinned and rolled her eyes. "Come on, now. We've got business to take care of."
With the noontime sun shining down on the dingy shop, it didn't look nearly as menacing as Snitch remembered. Still, he glanced up at Lute, who smiled back at him, affirming that she'd be there when he needed him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and entered the shop, the reassuring flap of Lute's wings close behind him.
The sense of abnormality hit him as soon as his feet touched the threadbare rug. The hairs on the back of his neck immediately stood at attention, and he felt as though thousands of ants had begun to crawl up and down his arms. He quickly rubbed his arms to shake off the feeling, then turned his gaze to the counter.
The woman stood, motionless, still in the purple cloak, her eyes and the upper portion of her face still shrouded in shadow. Her delicate mouth twisted into a smile.
"So you've come back."
"Listen, miss, I gotta ask-"
"I know you took the bottle."
Snitch's eyes widened. He looked quickly up at Lute who shrugged, seemingly just as surprised as he was.
The woman laughed, a deafeningly quiet sound that nearly stopped Snitch's heart.
"There is no need to look so frightened, Damien. I knew you would take it. You were supposed to take it."
Snitch frowned. "So... so you knew all this was gonna happen?"
The woman cocked her head to the side. "You wanted the truth, did you not?"
Snitch blinked. "Well... well, yeah, but-"
"And the truth is what you received: the truth of how the world truly is."
"She has a point," Lute said quietly.
The woman seemed to smile at Lute, though Snitch couldn't quite be sure. Then again, he realized he wouldn't be surprised if she could see the angels.
"I do have one suggestion, Damien."
"What?"
"I advise you to be cautious. There are others who will not like the fact that you have gained the Sight."
"What do you mean?"
The shadowy smile widened. "Be careful. Be wary of those whom you encounter. Do not give your trust as easily as you have done in the past."
Snitch swallowed heavily and nodded. What else could he do but listen?
The purple cloak swished as the woman turned towards a shelf of intricately carved candles and began rearranging them. The tall boy shared a look of confusion with his angel, then started towards the door. He stopped suddenly.
"You... you called me Damien. That's my real name. There ain't nobody alive today who knows my real name, so how do you know it?"
The woman stopped with her back to the boy and the angel. She had pulled down the hood of her cloak, revealing a wild mass of shining, chestnut curls; she wasn't at all the elderly woman that Snitch had envisioned. Slowly, she tugged the hood back up and turned to face them, the shadows perfectly in place.
"I know quite a few things about quite a few people, Damien." With that, she turned back to her candles.
Snitch, astonished, walked out of the door, followed closely by an agitated Lute.
"I don't like her, Snitch," she said quietly, her hazel-green eyes narrowed. "Not at all. Something about her just ain't right."
Snitch, so caught up in the woman's words, didn't even notice the pale, little girl until he ran into her.
She fell to the ground with a startled "oof!" However, she immediately rose to her bare feet, brushed the road's dust off of her dark grey dress, and straightened the white sash around her waist as well as the white bow peeking up from her sea of black curls. Snitch pinned her as being no older than ten or eleven. But there was a look in her pitch-black eyes that no child had ever known. A look that stated quite clearly that she had seen too much of the world, too soon. That she had never had a true childhood.
That life was just something to do while waiting to die.
"I'm sorry, kid," Snitch stammered. The girl smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"That's all right. Have a nice afternoon." Her voice was quiet and mocking, though what, exactly, she was mocking, Snitch did not know. He frowned as he watched her walk away, keeping under the brightly-colored canopies of the surrounding shops.
"What was wrong with that little girl?"
Lute stared, unblinking, after the girl in the grey dress. Finally, she shook her head. "That was no little girl." She quickly glanced around, as though suspicious, then cocked her head towards the Lodging House. "Let's get back. We promised we'd tell the boys what we found at lunch."
Snitch watched in confusion as Lute flew quickly down the street. Something about that girl had unnerved her. Hell, it had unnerved him, too.
But what was it?
What was going on?
Snitch caught the other newsboys just as they were leaving the Cardonia Cafe, a small, newly-opened restaurant that catered to Manhattan's working class.
Jack frowned and crossed his arms. "Tell us what you found, Snitch."
"Oh, just order the poor boy around like he's your damn slave, why don't you?"
"Raven."
"What?"
"Shut up."
Raven glared daggers at the Manhattan leader, but reluctantly said nothing else, save for a few choice phrases, muttered in French under her breath.
Snitch sighed. "The lady said that I was supposed to take the bottle."
"Without payin' for it?" Specs chimed in.
"I guess so."
"That don't make no sense," Mush muttered, his brows knitted. "Who says you was supposed to take it?"
Snitch shrugged. "And she knew my real name."
"How?" Blink asked.
"I dunno."
"And we saw this little girl who wasn't a little girl," Lute added, frowning. "There was something incredibly wrong with her."
"There's something incredibly wrong with this whole mess," Shortie muttered darkly, blowing a strand of her dark hair out of her eyes.
"Heya, boys."
The newsboys froze. Then, simultaneously, the turned to face the sound of the voice.
Spot Conlon stood, grinning playfully, both hands clutched on top of his cane.
"Spot, what the hell are you doin' here?"
"Well, you sound real happy to see me."
"It's just... kinda... strange timing, you know? You usually come at night."
Spot shrugged. "I had a feeling."
"A what?"
Icy blue eyes narrowed in Mush's direction. "A feeling. A hunch. Ever get one of those?"
"Well, yeah-"
"Well, I had one. And I followed it. So, now I'm here."
"Spot, it's okay. They can all See."
The newsboys started. Immediately, their eyes shot to the girl hovering above Spot's head. Another angel. Yet, much to Snitch's excitement, she actually looked like an angel. At least, like the ones he'd seen pictures of in books.
Her brown hair fell in tight curls to her shoulders, contrasting with the startling white of her long gown. Even if she hadn't had a pair of massive, feathery wings, the serene smile on her face coupled with the gentleness in her warm brown eyes would have been enough to be called angelic. She slowly lowered to the ground and placed a hand on Spot's shoulder.
Spot looked at her, then nodded.
After a short, stunned silence, Racetrack spoke up. "Wait a minute. You didn't drink the shit in that bottle."
"No, I try not to go around drinking shit from weird bottles."
"So how the hell can you see angels?"
"I dunno. I've always been able to do it." He shrugged and leaned on his cane. "Dewey told me that some weird crap was happenin' to you guys, so we decided to come check it out."
"I'm Dewey, by the way," Spot's angel piped up, still smiling cheerily. "Nice to finally meet you all."
"I decided that if anyone would be able to help us, Dewey would," Stage explained, smiling. "She probably knows a lot more than we do, and what's more, she's got a calm head and enough sense and patience to sit down and figure out what she doesn't know."
Dewey blushed prettily and laughed. "Well, as of now, I don't know anything more than you do. But I'd love to help figure out what exactly is happening. One more brain can't hurt, right?"
"Right," Spot said, grinning. "So, how about you punks and me go find a place to figure out what the hell we're gonna do now?"
The newsboys looked at one another. Jack shrugged and grinned.
"Why the hell not?"
"She's late."
Slant and Tabloid exchanged a glance. There was no mistaking the tone in their leader's voice: Runner was not pleased. Tabloid shrugged, tucking his shaggy black hair behind his ears.
"Maybe she was caught. Or eaten by rats." He grinned. "We can always hope, I suppose."
"Shut up, Tabloid."
His dark brown eyes narrowed dangerously at the short blond, but he had enough sense to keep his mouth closed. Slant snickered and leaned back in her chair.
The door flew open and banged against the wall as a tiny girl in a grey dress stormed into the room. Her usually pale skin had gone even whiter with rage while her dark eyes burned.
"You're late, Ovelia. You were supposed to be back by sundown."
"I realize that, Runner," she spat, her voice childlike, yet very adult in its tone. "However, it was your idea that I search for them at midday, and there were only so many shadows I could find. I had to wait until the sun went down to make it safely across the rest of the city." She smirked. "Or would you prefer it if I simply walked through the sunlight and burned to death before I returned with your information?"
Runner's cold, green eyes betrayed no expression, but he let the matter drop. "Tell me what you found. And do not speak to me like that."
She ignored the last portion of his command and began to speak. "The newsboys do indeed have the Sight. Apparently, the gained it by drinking an odd potion of sorts that one of them stole from a shop."
Slant blinked. "How could you bottle the ability to See? That's not possible!"
"Obviously, it is."
"Don't antagonize me, Tabloid."
"Enough!" Runner barked. "Whether or not those boys can See is a foolish question. They obviously can. How they received this ability is not our main concern. We will deal with that later. Right now, our first priority is getting rid of these newsboys before they expose us all." He frowned. "But there aren't nearly enough of us."
"We could ask for help," Tabloid suggested.
Runner nod. "But who would help us?" He glared into a dark corner of the building's basement. "Elazul. You keep track of our allies. Who do you suggest we ask for help?"
A frighteningly pale boy stepped from the shadows, fear showing plainly in his bright blue eyes. His golden curls as well as the proportion of his body gave him a feminine appearance, which his clear, pale skin did nothing to alleviate.
"He asked you a question, brat," Ovelia snarled, crossing her stick-like arms over her chest.
Elazul swallowed before speaking. "I... I suppose the Shadow Walkers," he said quietly, reluctantly. "But is it truly necessary to kill these boys? How do we know that they will even expose us?"
Runner stared at the boy for a few seconds before his green eyes glowed brightly. Immediately, Elazul cried out as a large, deep gash appeared in one cheek.
"Next time you question me like that, I will slice your head from your body. Do you understand me?"
"Y-Y-Yes, Runner."
The trenchcoat-clad vampire turned back to the wall as the glow in his eyes faded.
"The Shadow Walkers..." he murmured. "Yes. Tomorrow, I'll have to have a chat with Swerve..."
He smirked to himself, then headed for the door, the need for fresh blood howling in his ears.
End Chapter III
Whoa! I actually liked that chapter! -does a jig- Mwahahahaha! Anywho. Onto shoutouts! Quick ones, though, since I have to get offline,
Annie V: Whee! Thank you, darling love of mine! tackle glomps snuzzles Much love to da Ann! Platonic love, of course. -glances around suspiciously for Don'tTouchMahAnnie!Mondie-
Sapphy-schmoozle: -tackles like whoa- Awwww, I love you, too! -giggles- And you know that you can always steal any of my fics that you want for your loverly site. Good luck with judging your contest entries! XD -glomps!-
J-Sparrow, AKA Harmony: -squeals and tackles!- LOVE LOVE LOVE! Even though I just talked to you like... and hour ago! LOVE! Hopefully, those silly men don't exist. They just ruin all our fun. pouts I wish I could sit on my ass all day and pretend to write like J.K.... oh, wait. It's summer. I do. LOVE!
TSBizzle: -squee!- I hope I pleased your Racetrack fangirl. -giggles- But, seriously, I'm glad you like it. Because I love you. And I would cry if you didn't. -snuzzles-
Shadey-toast: -grins back- I love you like even more whoa. And, actually, I did think up a plot twist where you get sex. Actually, I think you're the only female OC that gets sex. And there will be boisixing later on. -love-
Krispy: ... you were drunk when you reviewed, weren't you?
Keza-lee-lou: -falls over- .. 'kay. XDDD love I'm glad you find it spiff... y. Can the Man with the Yellow Hat be Denton? We can put a pedophilic twist on Curious George. FABULOUS. -dashes off-
Froggers: It took me a minute to figure out who you were. Tee-hee. Anywho. Yes, I'd have to say that being dead would suck. Oh, yay. You're trying to fill. Mwahahahaha! -ines as well- Love to da Frog, who seems to have fallen off the face of the universe.
Colleen: COLLENY-BEAN! -tackles!- Aw, glad you like! Tee-hee! So about how this is gonna be the greatest summer in the history of the universe. -high fives- Annie and Dolly, like whoa! WE SHALL RULE ALL. Or not. Either way, it'll be fun. LOVE LIKE WHOA.
B-baby: That means mucho coming from you, because I love and worship and adore you. Because you rawk hardkore. Like crazy, yo. Seriously. I am insanely jealous of your writing abilities. And we're not even gonna get into EYDW, because I will literally fangirl for hours. You have your own fanclub at my school. Me and three of my friends sit around at recess and quote EYDW. Ahem. Enough stalker-age. You will SO get Blink in the ATCF rewrite. I'm giving him to you. Since you rawk. Wow this was long. I love you.
LaurelCrowned1: Smalltalk is AMAZING. I adore her. Tab is a genius for making her up. XDDD Ugh, lucky! I just have random downloaded Do As Infinity stuff. Ah, well, I'll grab their CD at the next anime con. Thanks so much for reviewing!
Strawberri Shake: Ooooh, it's intriguing! YAY! -giggles- Well, now you know! Slant and Runner are lovely, evil vampies! MWAHAHAHA! Yes, the angels had very sad deaths. Wait until we get to the ones who died twice. -grins- I'll leave you with that. Glad you like it, and much thanks for reviewing!
Janelly-belly: -pokes menacingly- Yes. Write. You must. And you never talk to me any mooooore! -whines- So, anyway. This chapter was better. I actually like it, and I never like my own work. You know that. RUNNER IS A DOLL. Ask Dewey; I'm obsessed with him, liek wo. Glad you like everything, mah honey bun. Much love!
Well, kids, that's all for this chapter. Next chapter: Runner has a little chat with the leader of the Shadow Walkers, and the newsboys have their first real confrontation with the baddies. cackle! G'night, everybody! -dashes away-