Fairy Dust and Starbucks Cups 2
I do not own Harvest Moon, Starbucks, or any related characters, terms or locations.
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MorWolfMor: I think there are three types of Fanfiction authors: the type that writes purely for the sake of manipulating the plot and characters, those who focus more on the writing rather than the plot, and those who focus on both. I am the second type. I don't know if that's a good thing, but I'm glad you're enjoying it!
She kept the umbrella with her the entire walk, even though the rain had cleared up, as if it served to remind her that the little encounter with the magic man (who might've been On something) wasn't just another one of her crazy dreams. They always started off like that, as a perfectly normal scene or occurrence that took a turn for the fantastic and ended up completely bizarre.
She plucked her key from her pocket, clutching it to her coat with damp, frozen fingers. Lint stuck like mold to the cool, moist brass.
The greenhouse was sultry and humid, even in the chilly spring, and she welcomed it. Clumps of Black dirt were scattered amongst the rows of damp concrete and various hoses, gardening mats, and bits of wire. Hikari inhaled deeply, taking the green, wet smell of living things, dampness, rich soil and the too-sweet smell of rot into her lungs.
The first early pansy seedlings had been started in little terra-cotta-coloured pots, the first little green sprouts curling up from the dirt.
The greenhouse was pure peace.
Something was eating at the Wizard. It had nestled in some crevice of his brain, and had burrowed its way in, reminding him that he had forgotten something. That something was out of his reach and driving him crazy, making him sweat and worry.
He wracked his brain over his morning coffee, but was by a vibration in his jacket pocket.
His godforsaken cellphone was humming and buzzing like an irritated bee, H.G flashing urgently against the blue panel. He flipped it open, read the text.
How'd it go? :) ;)))
That looked rather awkward. He cringed and thought of replies before beginning to type.
The Harvest Goddess made consistent and liberal use of emoticons in her texts, an annoyance. They were often poorly selected and seemed out of place, but the goddess delighted in using all the features on the phone her clever little humans had made.
Successfully.
It was safe, a little boring perhaps, but he tended to be short and precise in his texts, unlike Witch, who loved to forward him spam just for the fun of it.
A text from the Harvest God appeared immediately after, reminding him of a meeting he had that day.
That was what had been chewing on his mind all morning: He had a meeting with the Association. The odd feeling left at once, with a gust of relief in its wake. It was still an odd sensation to forget things, after remaining on earth for so many lifespans, remembering mostly everything that happened to him. It bothered him, put a heavy stone in his throat that lasted for days if he couldn't remember quickly.
Why had he shown that young thing from last night that easy little trick?
Even though it was small and stupidly simple, it had been real, bona fide magic, and she was probably going to call the police and report him for drugging her or something. Had hundreds of years of life taught him no tact?
Modern (sober) folks typically didn't experience magic in their daily lives. He was still kicking himself for it.
He gulped down his coffee on his way out, feeling it burn a slow slide of fire down his throat. Wizard grimaced, throwing on a concealing charm that dirtied the colour of his hair and eyes to nondescript brown.
Outside, the rain had started up again with grim zeal, drumming on the roof of the little café that never opened.
Witch was already in the lobby of the Magistrate Hotel by the time he pushed through the revolving doors, lounging about in a teal armchair.
She had swung her long legs over the arms of the chair, crossed her ankles, and was clicking the heels of her thigh-high black boots together, letting them drip on the floor. A short pinstripe skirt bared a two-inch stripe of pale leg, and the rest of her was engulfed in dove-gray satin.
She wore no concealment, opting to let her long gossamer hair rage around her in waterfalls.
What human really had that hair colour? She even had the boldness to wear a headband with a lacy little witch's hat on it.
Wizard was still surprised she'd escaped being burnt at the stake way back when. She was so very Obvious.
"If it isn't Wizard!"
The grin she kept plastered on her face had gone from hungry-dog to hunting-alligator. He kept his head down and only looked up when she moved to block his way. The fountain rushed behind him, glimmered in the late-morning light from the windows. Coins glittered, ethereal in bronze and silver at the blue-gray bottom of their little lake.
"It's very rude to ignore a lady, you know."
She made to continue her sentence, but shut her mouth, waiting for a better opportunity to embarrass him.
Wizard sighed through his nose and continued down the hall. Witch fell into step beside him, and he focused on the steady clop of her heeled boots on the immaculate tile and the fading rushing melody of the lobby fountain instead of her voice, which seemed to be extra-annoying that morning.
They came to a room, knocked, entered. In the hall, a whiteboard with a fluorescent-green arrow pointed helpfully to the door let them know that this room was the location of the MASCA meeting, 10:00-11:30 A.M.
The harvest god gave them a stern look as they entered, but the Goddess beamed. The room was plain; nondescript beige walls with white trim, a long table surrounded with standard-issue office chairs. There was only the four of them; it was a senior meeting and none of the Harvest Sprites or lesser beings were present.
Witch produced a bag of pretzels and began to munch on them as the meeting of the Magical and Spiritual Creatures Association commenced.
Somehow, he just knew those pretzels would end up in his hair by the end of the morning.
Surprise! Nothing big really happens except basic introductions and easing very slowly into the plot. Another short chapter… the surprise two-shot I shall be posting sooner or later will be nice and long, I promise.
I wasn't sure about Wizzy in this chapter. I wanted to portray him as I see him: shy, sort of mild and a bit awkward but sweet. Somebody who's innately intelligent but puts up with being picked on. I wanted to give him personality here, you know?
Some chapters are easy to write, but this one was like making a new friend- slow and awkward. Wish I could just bang out chapters and finish some of these stories up.