The day was bright, sunny, happy, warm, like every other day the peculiar children had always woke up to. The best thing about living in a loop was that they always knew what weather they were getting, because it was always September 3rd, in the year 1940. In a way, most of Miss Peregrine's wards were happy that they didn't have to live in a loop where the weather was cold and dreary, for their only way of escape was out of the house. The walls of their home was cosy and comforting, yet at the same time confining and almost imprisoning at times. Perhaps it was why this time, the sunny weather was more of a faint nostalgia of their days where everything used to be exactly the same.
It was a great changed compared to their rainy, dreary weather the day before anyway. Millard almost wanted to drive himself mad as the children bemoaned their captivity indoors. For peculiar children who were used to spending their days outside, the television or any form of device did not hold as much fascination for them as did roaming.
Millard amused himself by watching them play, relishing in the sunlight as he picked at the cotton shirt he wore, occasionally looking up from the scrawl of his notes on his notebook. It was his fifteenth notebook, and his fifth leather journal over the past four years of his study of the New World, as he liked to call it. This particular one had been with him for close to three years now, for Miss Peregrine had just decided to give him a thicker one when he began to go through them like clothes. Penning down his observations from the day with the sounds of his housemates playing in the sunset, a sudden loud shout from Olive made Millard look up in surprise as the floating girl pointed to the distance. "Miss Peregrine's back!"
Almost as if they were one entity, all the peculiar children dropped their playthings, even Enoch with his little soldiers, as they all ran to greet their protector and mother-figure. Taking up the rear, Millard watched with a smile as Bronwyn ensured that Olive was securely fastened to her weighted shoes, picking up Claire to join their troop, as Emma dragged Jacob by his hand.
Life had returned to normal after they had solved the problem with Miss Peregrine's brothers, and collapsed the loop. They had returned to their normal ages, and had lived out a stint in modern day America. They had been glad to be out of the Devil's Acre where they had to live since their old loop had closed. Miss Peregrine shuttled back and forth between her new position as head of the Council of Ymbryne's, as Jacob had showed his friends his daily life.
The kids who had stayed so long within 1940 were fascinated by the modern life. Enoch had been a little bit miffed to find out he was no longer the only one who could animate dead things (Frankenstein had been a fairytale to him, while Claire had ran out of the room halfway), and Hugh and Fiona were fascinated by the amount of parks they could visit, taking plenty of dates. Miss Peregrine had made it her first mission to confirm Fiona's state after they had put the world of Peculiar's to some form of order, and the bunch of them, Hugh at the top of the list, had been more than overjoyed to find Fiona taking refuge in a forest under the menagerie loop Miss Wren managed. She had suffered a bad fall, and had suffered for a few days with a broken leg and bad cuts, but the trees had protected her as Hugh had hoped and prayed, and within a few months, Fiona was back with them.
But a year or two into them staying there, and the peculiar children had come to miss their old home. Not to say there was a need to set up a loop any longer, and in all truth of the word, this was no loop. The children simply continued staying with their Miss Peregrine, in a home now simply known as The Fledgeling House. Like an orphanage, Millard often mused, but one that children came only if Miss Peregrine herself brought them. The children, now that they've had a chance to age normally, had no wish to return to a loop now that hollowgasts and wights were no longer a threat to them.
Jacob had came with them to as they set up in the furthest end of Scotland, where the peculiar children could hone their abilities as Miss Peregrine privately tutored them both in academics and in life until the day came when they could enter society, perhaps even attend tertiary education and immerse themselves with the normals.
Jacob's parents had tried to accept the oddities of their son and friends, but eventually Franklin saw how stressed Maryann was each time she entered the kitchen to see Emma cooking with her palms, or Enoch making clay soldiers fight in the library, that both parents didn't put up much of a fight when Jacob announced he was going to stay with his friends. As long as he promised to visit often, they were not as devastated to let their son go.
Pulling himself away from nostalgia as he watched Miss Peregrine greet her children fondly, Millard did a double look when he realized what she had returned with. Or more particularly, who.
"Is this why you had went away for a few days, Miss Peregrine?" came Claire's innocently curious question. The girl had grew to be more slender and stately now, her thirteenth birthday just around the corner, but Claire was still more innocent then half the teenagers around her, considering she spent such a long time as an eight year old. Their matronly old ymbryne gave a nod, and gestured to the elder girl standing next to her. Millard's eyes immediately fell to the dark head, the wary, shy looking green eyes. Her anxious feelings were clear to see, from the way her gaze darted to how she gripped the burlap satchel in her arms, the oddly shaped package immediately igniting Millard's raging curiosity. "What's your name, little one?" Bronwyn was the first to step forward with a gentle smile, one that hadn't changed even if the large girl was now at the ripe age of eighteen.
"Her name is Imogen, Miss Bruntley." Miss Peregrine cut in before the girl could even reply (which she didn't seem fond of doing anyway, as she had shrunk away when Bronwyn addressed her). "Now children, is dinner ready? Let's give Miss De Vere some time to settle down before you ask her anything, shall we? I'm sure you wouldn't like it if I interrogated you the first day you came here."
A chorus of agreements came, before the motley crew happily ran back to the house, each to take up their dinner duty or to clean up before a mealtime, with Miss Peregrine following with a more stately, and slower pace. The newcomer followed behind her, more shy then anything, but Millard's eyes followed her steps, and then gave a start that he hoped no one else saw (not a very difficult wish, really), when the girl looked up. For a second, Millard couldn't help but wonder if she actually saw him.
The chaos that accompanied dinner preparations was a daily affair for the peculiar children in the Home, a ragtag occurrence that they had missed for the two years they spent in Jacob's home. Now, Claire and Olive laughed as they argued over who was in charge of washing dishes, and Bronwyn whistled as she roasted the meat over their spit. Even Enoch was quiet whilst he laid the table out, which was a great change as compared to his usual muttered complaints. When Emma rang the dinner bell, the rickety steps of their house sounded like thunder as everyone took their spot around the table.
It was at this time, that Imogen held back at the end of the steps towards the dining hall, uncertainty clear in those emerald gazes as she looked around, wondering where she belonged.
But there was one unseen person who Imogen didn't realized hadn't taken his seat yet, and only when he banged into her back, did the girl noticed albeit with a little more surprise then necessary, as Imogen would have fallen if what felt like hands hadn't caught her around her waist just as her arms flailed. "Whoah, careful there. Sorry, looks like I need to wear a little more than just pants, since people usually look up." The voice had a laughing lilt to it, as if the owner of the voice had a smile in his face, but Imogen blinked in surprise as she looked down where she felt arms, only to see nothing except a pair of seemingly floating pants.
"Mr. Nullings, clothes. Proper, clothes." Miss Peregrine's stern voice reprimanded, and the invisible hands straightened Imogen up before an embarrassed laugh came, and Imogen could almost imagine him rubbing his head in sheepish embarrassment as he replied "Yes, Miss Peregrine, and a clatter of steps upwards signalled his departure. Imogen only stared, blinking open mouthed in surprise, until the motherly ymbryne came to guide her by her shoulders. She had spent years in Miss Avocet's care, but even her wards were not as surprising as the motley crew in her new home, especially since Miss Avocet mostly dealt with training ymbryne's and shapeshifters.
"Children, this is Imogen De Vere, formerly under Miss Avocet's care. She'll live with us now, as Miss Avocet thinks she'll be better off here."
"Why?" a voice that seemed to come from Hugh and Fiona's direction piqued up.
"Miss De Vere was rescued from the Regency era by Miss Avocet when she was twelve. She was taken by Caul and Myron during the Great Kidnapping, but she managed to hide herself away until everything was over, and Miss Avocet found her again. Right now however, Miss Avocet is unable to properly care for the rest of her wards as she is seeing to the safety of Peculiardom, and as such each ymbryne has been entrusted with one or two of her wards. Miss Avocet finds that Miss De Vere would suit us."
"How did she escape?" Horace asked, utterly enchanted by the fact that someone actually managed to save themselves, considering it took eight of them and they could barely make it.
"That is a story that Miss De Vere would tell us in due time, Mister Somnusson. Now let's eat!" With Miss Peregrine's proclamation, the clatter of utensils against porcelain plates echoed through the cozy dining hall. Imogen herself picked at the meats laid for all to share at the center of the table, as if unsure of what to do with herself. In a foreign place, with people she wasn't familiar with, suddenly made Imogen ached as she missed the element controlling twins back at home, her best friend Gemma Wardlake, all of whom were either dead or soulless.
"Hey, our food's good! Bronwyn outdoes herself every time, and I think she made pudding specially for you. She always does when we have a newcomer, don't offend her by picking at your food."
The sudden voice next to her made Imogen startle again (Millard couldn't help but compare her to a frightened bunny, skittish and easily startled), before she realized that the floating pair of pants earlier was now accompanied with a red knitted pullover and a cap. Between the collar and the cap was enough empty space for just one face, and as Imogen continued watching, the fork and knife floated up as if someone was holding, before the utensils picked up a leg of a duck, and the leg made its way to her plate.
"Eat up."
Imogen blinked, trying to make sense of the whole thing. In Miss Avocet house, ymbryne's in training were largely in residence. Gemma with her ability to control liquid, the elemental twins Lillian and Lancelot, herself, Brynno who could control weather and Taketa who had perfect memory, were the only long standing wards of Miss Avocet. In this new house, everything felt foreign. And she sure as heck have never met an invisible person before.
"Gee, for a peculiar, you sure are snobbish."
Another voice made Imogen look up, just in time to see a blonde haired, angry looking girl scowling at her, almost making her uncomfortable before the boy next to her lay a hand on the girl's arms and shook his head, before offering Imogen a kind smile. "Don't mind Emma, she's just very protective and you're making Millard uncomfortable. My name's Jacob, I could see hollowgasts and sense wights during the Great Kidnapping."
Imogen gave a gasp, for almost all peculiar children have heard of the great Portman grandchild who inherited Abraham's ability. Hugh next to him laughed and swatted Jacob's head, earning him a dirty glare from Emma as a bee shot out from Hugh to buzz around their food. "Someone's got to keep him in line, Ems, and it can't be you since you inflate his head everyday."
"But what Jacob did was amazing! An-"
"Yes, yes we get it he is the stupendous Jacob Portman." Hugh good-naturedly grinned, at which Jacob grinned back before turning to Imogen again. "That's Hugh, the bee is his. He has a whole hive in his stomach." Hugh grinned and patted his stomach, and Jacob turned to the girl. "This is Emma, she's the ringleader, and a firestarter." Emma scowled into her food, much to Imogen's surprise. "Don't worry about her, she's a tough nut to crack." A surprising whisper shocked Imogen again, and she almost overturned her plate before a laugh exploded from the floating clothes, and Jacob's explanation followed suit.
"That's Millard, he's invisible."
"All the time?" For the first time, Imogen surprised them with a voice of surprise, a tone so soft Millard almost thought it was air, before he registered the girl's moving lips. It took awhile before it sunk in that Imogen was actually addressing him, and for the first time Millard thank the stars that he was invisible, so they couldn't see his flush as replied. "Oh, yes, all the time. There's no switch I can use, sadly."
"Are you really there? Or is it just some ventriloquist?"
"What's a ventriloquist?" Claire asked down the table, to which Bronwyn quickly explained, as Imogen blinked, as if expecting an answer. And unable to think of any other way to prove his existence, he said "Hold out your hand."
Surprisingly, the girl did so, and with a little apprehension, Millard took his hand and placed her palm against hers, again happy that he was invisible for his cheeks were very warm as he noticed how small her palms were, registering at the same time, how her cheeks too flushed when she realized the pressure pressing against her was his hand. "Oh, you're really there."
"What would we get out of lying to you?" Emma questioned brashly.
"I… I just haven't had the chance to meet many other peculiars. Miss Avocet kept a tight rein on us."
"Miss Peregrine does to us too. We're just too wild." Hugh replied, waggling his brows in a bedeviling way that had Imogen smile her first smile since she arrived. Millard found himself irritated, wishing he had done that...but how could he make her smile when she couldn't even see him?
"What about you? Maybe if you prove your peculiarity, it might put Miss Bloom's agitated apprehension to rest." Horace piped up. Imogen suddenly found herself the center of attention, and immediately she felt very put on the spot, obvious when she paused midbite of her chicken. "Leave her alone guys, she'll let us know when she's more comfortable with it." Millard irritably piped up.
"Mister Nullings is right, children. Let's no-" Miss Peregrine was about to come to her defense, when Imogen shook her head, her shoulder length dark hair waving as she did so. "It's alright Miss Peregrine. They have a right to know. I'll show them."
In saying so, the girl pulled from her pocket a white chalk, and pushed her plate away so she had an empty space in front of her, the wooden table like an empty board. On it, she looked up, and smiled when she saw Olive intently looking as she chewed on her carrot. "What would you fancy for a present…?"
"My name's Olive! And Christmas is pretty far away, but if Santa could make me a princess, that would be the best!"
A chorus of laughs rippled, obvious to all that despite being eleven now, Olive was still very much the baby of their motley crew. Even Imogen laughed, a laugh that had Millard staring for it made her eyes sparkle like gems. Almost entranced, Millard couldn't pull his eyes away as Imogen addressed Olive. "I'm not Santa, and I can't make you a princess, but I can give you something close. Watch."
Holding her chalk, Imogen began drawing on the oaken table, sketching out a tiara that was pretty yet not overly grand, fitting in gems and diamonds here and there, before she extended a hand to Olive, who took the hand. "Now, imagine really hard, how you want the tiara's color to be, plus all the gems around it, alright?"
Olive gave an earnest nod, and squeezed her eyes shut in concentration. Whereas Imogen began tracing the outline of the tiara she had drawn. Once she reached the end, she waved a hand across, and a flurry of gasps appeared when she opened her palms, and a tiara sat on her palms as if she had pulled it out of thin air. It looked exactly like what she had drawn, and the sketch on the table had disappeared.
Olive squealed as Imogen passed the tiara to her, and she had Claire immediately dissolved together to take turns playing, whilst the dark haired newcomer turned to give further explanation. "Anything I draw, I can make come true. It's like my touch gives corporeal bodies to things. It's feel, texture and taste however, is only as good as I can remember. If it's in color, then I don't need someone else's help. If I draw in black and white, then it'd be best if someone else's imagination lends power to my projections. The younger, the better, for they believe in their imaginations more."
Millard blinked, absolutely taken away. Her peculiarity seemed more magical then anything, and he knew wasn't the only one who felt this way, the way everyone blinked in surprise at her. It took less then a second for Imogen to begin feeling self conscious again, and Miss Peregrine picked up on that in a second, quickly hurrying them to clean up after themselves and get to bed.
"Mister Nullings, would you please show Miss De Vere to her room? She'll be in the new room up in the attic, as the girls are all sharing as it is."
"Sure do, Miss Peregrine! Follow me, Imogen." His chirpy voice had Imogen surprised, following as the floating clothes made their way out of the kitchen and wash area, and up the stairs. "I usually don't help out with kitchen duties, because it's already a small area and them being unable to see me makes things a little more difficult for them."
"Oh."
"Emma shares a room with Fiona, and Bronwyn bunks with Claire and Olive, although I think the two of the babies are going to demand they get their own room soon. They are getting older, but we're all not so used to aging yet… and are you usually so quiet?" Millard finally couldn't help but ask, as they reached the first landing, and the laughter and chatter of the others were muted. Imogen flushed, and bit her lip. "N-not really. I just… it's been a long day."
"I get you." He paused at the top of the second landing, and peered to look at her. "Look, it's alright here. Miss Peregrine is the best, and we're all doing our best to make her proud. Jacob's studying to work in the special unit, and so is Emma. Hugh plans to open a huge honey farm, so he's aiming for business and law, and Horace wants to be a dream interpreter. Life is good after we got rid of them hollowgasts and wights." He paused, somehow not liking the somewhat shy and afraid look Imogen looked as if she constantly wore. "Don't be afraid anymore."
"It's not that I'm afraid of." Imogen replied, albeit a little hesitantly. Millard paused, cocking his head in confusion despite knowing that the other girl couldn't see. "Then what is it?" Silence fell for abit, before Imogen shook her head. "It's nothing. Thanks for bringing me to my room Millard. I… I'll need some time to settle in. See you."
And with that, the girl darted into her room and closed the door with a final click, leaving Millard blank and confused. The girl wasn't scared of wights and hollowgasts? Then what was she afraid of?