And we have chapter six and counting. There is something horribly wrong with me, but I am loving this too much to pay it any mind. Anyways, I'm going to spare you the mindless gibberish you Earthlings call "small talk", and cut to the chase, because it's two thirty AM and my fingers hurt.
Lokirka- Yes, we must love Bunny. If you do not love Bunny, then you are not a true RotG fan. However, I must admit that my favorite Guardian, aside from Jack, obviously, is Sandy. Why? I don't know, I just do.
Catdoggasaurous- I think there is less chance of me spelling that right than… I don't know, the person I commented about in the last Author's note. Woot, anther OPT! To answer your first question, a Mary sue is the sole embodiment of perfection in a fictional character. Someone who has no distinguishable flaws and a person and a wide array of talents/skills, paired with either a ridiculously agreeable personality, of a badass who bows to no one. I can't say I know what a lime is, I don't USUALLY read those kinds of stories, but I know what a lemon is and have read my fair share of them(though unintentionally. I forgot to turn on the filter.) I would be glad to help you write, if you go to my profile, you'll see a button at the top that says Beta Profile. Click on that and see if you like it, of which you then accept me as a Bets Reader for you and I help you write/work on stories.
MoonGirl1155- Yes, he does have a good excuse for being around her so much but I want this to be as realistic as you can get, despite the impossibilities the cannon characters pose. And yes, fun times cannot last forever, and we see that just a bit at the very end here, but I'm still just teasing y'all. My fast-ness should be getting to where we learn why, pretty soon, though.
chocykitty- I got a Luna reference. Um, yay? I take you are some kind of Harry Potter nerd, then…
sassysaw- Your wait beith over.
Fluffythorne-I did not mean for Joe to come across as a douche bag, just as suspicious. My bad. Yes, I decided you were right, I did need to put Jamie in there more and I felt that it was only logical that Jamie would be the one he confided in. Also, you pointed out the whole illegal thing in chapter one, and I decided it bugged me enough to change it. So there. And, yes, what's a good story without a nice, slightly kinky character? As previously stated, yes, Bunny is amazing, but I don't want her to be a really good fighter, too. I feel that is verging too much on Mary Sue, despite her flaws. I know I can fight, too, and you know it, but I thought it was too much.
Willow blinked.
There was no way a place like this could exist. Not possible. Yet, here it was, right before her very eyes.
Lush green grass seemed to stretch on for miles, flowers of every hue sprinkled throughout. Pastel shades were painted across what should have been the sky, but was instead the paragon of springtime color. I river of glimmering paint flowed through the land, every shade imaginable streaking through it, never mixing, but weaving in and out of one another in harmony. Tiny flowers lined the stream, puffing out bursts of vibrant color onto the eggs as they… walked by?
"The eggs are walking."
A low rumble resonated through Bunny's chest as he chuckled. "A sight like this, and the only thing ya have to say is "the eggs are walking"? Crikey, you really need to get out more, lass."
The grass beneath her boots made a soft shh shh as she walked slowly forward, drinking in the incredible sight before her, trying to memorize every detail.
More of the tiny eggs skittered around her feet as the rushed forward, her attention drawing to the stone eggs that seemed to stand guard of the shimmering stream. Intricate faces were carved on the stone, most of smiles, but when the stone, too, could move and turn, she saw an equally intricate face of a frown on the opposite side.
"How can this place exist?" The awe-filled wonder in her voice brought a knowing glance between Bunny and Jack. Even the most broken of people couldn't help but look at the brighter side of things here. Too much Hope radiated from everything not to.
"Belief. This place is here because of the belief people have in Hope, that, somehow, everything will be alright. There will always be a new start, a better outlook." The once imposing Easter Bunny now seemed more like the fluffy little creature of the stories than she could have thought possible. Yes, he may have had leather greaves and razor-sharp boomerangs strapped to him, but, here, he looked at if it could be blasphemy to harm a fly.
Willow allowed her fingertips to trail over the soft petals, their touch beneath her skin second to none for such a creamy, velvety feel. Her dark attire held such sharp contrast to the lively landscape, yet, she felt that, for the first time, she truly belonged somewhere. A fast growing part of her wanted to curl up on the silken grass and never leave.
She stooped down and placed her hand on the ground next to the trail of eggs. Most of them simply scurried past, but one egg that looked smaller than the rest stopped, seeming to consider her for a moment, before running onto her outstretched hand.
A soft smile pulled at her lips as she cupped the tiny egg carefully in her palm, carrying it to the flowers and deposited it in front of one. A soft lavender mist encased the egg as the dye settled onto the shell. Most of the eggs had at least two colors on their shells, but she simply picked up the egg and carried it to the stream. Kneeling down beside it, she waited for the right color to flow past her before letting the egg fall into the river with a soft splash. It rolled around in the gently bobbing waves of glitter, before scurrying up the bank, back into her waiting hands.
"An interesting choice." Bunny's voice sounded behind her shoulder. "Most of the little ankle-biters try to put every color on the egg."
"Well, I'm not an… ankle-biter, whatever that is. I like it. It has its simplicity, yet I think it is just as beautiful as the rest." The pastels if the sky shimmered subtly off of the ice-blue glitter that sparsely coated the egg. The rabbit couldn't help but notice the gash on her cheek, and in that moment, grasping the enormity of what Jack had said and why it was so important she come here.
She turned and offered up the tiny egg to Bunny, but he shook his head. "Keep it. Let it be a reminder to you."
"A reminder of what?"
"A reminder that, no matter how small or simple something, or someone, is, its inner beauty is what shines brightest of all. Even when it feels that the odds may not seem in their favor, they still step up to overcome them, because they have the will and the Hope to do so."
She looked down at the egg cradled in her palms, slowly realizing Bunny's true meaning. He was trying to tell her that the egg was a personification of who she truly was. Seemingly small and simple on the outside, but the true beauty of it shining out from the inside.
No matter how difficult life seemed to get, she always mustered the strength to push back and survive the pains it threw at her. She refused to be broken by a vindictive monster. Perhaps dampened, but never quite snuffed out and renewed with a vigor.
Though she had never realized it until now, she was strong.
(*)
Jack leaned against the crook of his staff, the warmth of the air not bothering him as much as it usually did. He watched as Willow bent down to the tide of eggs, a small one finding its way to her hands. She walked with an air of grace as she brought it from place to place, not going for any of the ostentations tones, but two soft pastels that complimented one another's simplicity.
Her dark shape was easily distinguished amongst the sea of bright color, yet, she seemed more at home here than anywhere else she had ever been before. He could almost see that shattered void her mother had created being filled with the light of Hope. Bunny left his side and approached her on silent paws, the bass tones of his voice too low to be heard.
She walked away from the river, still cupping the egg in her hands, but she watched it with a joy rooted from her understanding of its true significance.
When the three of them stood together once more, she turned to them, a quiet light flickering brightly in her eyes, and Jack had a feeling that it would be sticking around for quite a while.
"Thank you so much for bringing me here. I have never felt so at home before. Never felt like I belonged anywhere, but a misfit. Now, I know that is not true, I have to Hope for a better future, or be doomed to live in the shadows." Her soft voice was laced with sincerity as every word left her mouth.
"You're welcome here anytime, lass. You have an eye for the arts, I can feel it." She couldn't help but smile, the enormous, weapon-bearing rabbit, grinning down at her with wide buck teeth. "Off you go, now. Better keep hold of that egg." Her fingers interlocked over the sparkling shell, forming a safe cocoon in her hands. The hole for the Tunnels opened beneath her feet at the tap of Bunny's, but, this time, she wasn't gripped by panic. She closed her eyes and felt the air rushing by her face.
This time, she felt exhilarated.
(*)
The snow around the pond had thickened upon their return, covering the ground with a fresh layer of virgin snow. Still cradling the egg, she walked over to the tree, pushing the weeds and excess snow away with her foot to pull her bag from the hollow. She knew she needed to go back to her house soon, but she didn't want to leave, knowing the spell of whimsy would be broken the moment she set foot inside.
Instead, she pulled out her battered phone, the case cracked and the screen scratched, but it was what she could afford. She wrapped the egg in a thin scarf that had remained in her bag, though she rarely wore it, and placed it inside.
"I would rather not go home just yet, but I was wondering if you would mind if I played some music? It's too quiet and the music let's me not think what's wrong with my life, and take me to a completely different place, even if only for a moment." Her words seemed almost poetic, as though she had considered them before.
"Sure, I like music." The screen lit up and illuminated her face as she scrolled through the music, and hitting one of her favorite playlists. The soft strums of guitar filled the air from the tiny speaker, the sound infusing with the night air in a subtle melody.
Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I'd just stare out my window
Dreaming of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray
Jack's thoughts drifted through the years, back to when no one but the other Guardians could see him. He had thought the same thing, dreaming of the day when he would be seen. He had spent so long wondering when he would ever be happy, and not feel so… forgotten.
Trying hard to reach out
But when I'd try to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I'd pray
I could breakaway
He had tried so hard to be known, but no one could ever seem to hear him. He craved to belong somewhere, not be stuck on the outside forever. Talking to the Moon for over three hundred years, yet never any answers. Only recently did he learn it was because they were questions you could answer yourself, should you try hard enough to find those answers.
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes til' I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I loved
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway
It taken him a painfully long time to figure it out, but, in the end, he was the one who changed things, not Manny. He was the one who took the chance to put everything on the line, and it paid off. He finally managed to step out if the shadow of emptiness he had lived in for so long and… break away.
He understood what she meant about the music taking you someplace else, his mind swirling with memories until the song ended.
A few seconds of silence hung in the air, soon replaced by the smooth tone of cellos.
He listened for a few seconds, recognizing the tune.
"This is it! That song, the one you were singing the day I met you!" he exclaimed.
She gave him a lopsided smirk. "You say that as if it was years ago, when it was actually only four days ago. But, yes, this is the song."
Her head tipped back to rest against the tree, eyes closed. Small movement drew his attention to her fingers where she tapped out the tempo, but he suspected there was something more to it, because her fingers kept interchanging.
"What are you doing?" her eyes opened, causing the motion in her hands to stop.
"What do you mean?"
"Your hands. It looked like you were just following the music, but your fingers kept tapping in different places." he explained.
Realization passed across her face as his question became clear. "Oh, those are the piano keys the noted play. I've picked up it a little bit with my voice teacher, but only with a few songs that we practice with.
By the time she had finished her explanation, the song had changed again.
I'm an angel with a shotgun
Get out your guns, battles begun,
Are you a saint, or a sinner?
If love's a fight, than I shall die,
With my heart on a trigger.
Two of her fingers simply tapped out the pattern, her lips mouthing the lyrics as the song played. Her eyes had closed once more, but not in a way that made her look as if she was falling asleep. More in a way that she was letting her imagination take control of her thoughts and allowing the music to flow through her as inspiration.
They say before you start a war,
You better know what you're fighting for.
Well baby, you are all that I adore,
If love is what you need, a soldier I will be.
It struck him how her music seemed to correspond so well to their lives. The first was exactly how his life had felt, eight years ago, the second to the introvert within Willow, craving to talk to someone, but willing to open up to no one.
This one, however, was an odd mix between the two, however. He was willing to be there for her whenever she needed him, willing to stand up for her.
But the song made him realize something else.
She was hiding something from her past, something she clearly didn't want to share and did not intentionally reveal. It was no accident she could see Jack, or any of the others, but it wasn't just because she humored childhood fantasies. No, she had seen something and it had done something to her.
What, he didn't know, but she still faced everyday behind the mask of a smile, anyways.
I'm an angel with a shotgun,
Fighting til' the wars won,
I don't care if heaven won't take me back.
I'll throw away my faith, babe, Just to keep you safe.
Don't you know you're everything I have?
That was it. It fit her perfectly, described her in every way, yet with so few words.
An angel with a shotgun.
Always ready and willing to help anyone who needed it and lend them a hand, yet, strong enough to stand against almost anyone who dared to challenge them. Ready to push back with everything she had until prevailing, regardless of the consequences.
She may have her mysteries about her, that was for certain, but he couldn't expect her to tell him everything. She had a point when saying they had only met a few days ago, but he couldn't explain why he felt so drawn to her. Through the short time he had known her, he trusted her enough to bring her to the Warren, while, granted, she may have needed it on a psychological level and it had seemed to help, he felt as if he may have been rushing her ever so slightly.
Another song was playing, but the steady drumming of her fingers in the air had ceased as she seemed to be drifting to sleep. He had to get her home soon, it was too cold for her to stay here.
"Willow, you have to go home. If you fall asleep out here, you'll freeze." he said, quietly, but firmly. She nodded lazily, but slid from the rock and shouldered her bag after silencing her phone and slipping it inside. Her arms looped around his neck, but her grip was very loose and she struggled to keep her eyes open.
He hesitated a moment, before scooping her legs out from beneath her to pick her up. There was a good chance she would fall asleep as he flew and he didn't want to risk her falling when she wasn't holding on.
"Jack," she mumbled, "put me down, I'm fine."
"Fine until you fall for real. Just don't worry about it, I'll bring you home." he took off despite her weak protests, though they trailed off soon as she drifted.
Low-lying clouds whooshed past them as they made their way through the sky, though the loudest sound was the steady in-and-out of her breathing.
He landed directly outside of her window, instead of behind the trees, the subtle movement of the landing and lack of wind in her face causing her to stir in his arms.
"You didn't have to do that, you know, I could have held on." her sleepy tone made him very muh doubt that.
"I wasn't going to take the chance. Besides, it's a little bit too late to argue now, you're home." he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes and pushed open the window, the warm air dancing lightly across his icy skin. She stepped inside and slid the window almost all the way back down, but left a gap about two inches wide.
Before he could ask, she said, "I would rather the room be a few degrees colder, than have to explain a broken window if you decide to start banging on it again." she explained. She began to walk to the warmth that awaited her at her bed, but she spun back around after a few steps.
"Oh, I almost forgot. You were curious about this, if I remember correctly." She passed a folded square of thick paper through the gap to him, before returning to the inviting warmth of her bed, not bothering to see his reaction.
He went to his perch in the tree before unfolding the page, taking a moment to realize what it was.
The sketch held a quality somewhere in between life-like and cartoonish, by the incredible detail in everything, but the simplistic way of shading it. He touched the branches of the graphite trees with a wintery finger, frost growing onto the page to accent the areas she had left bare, probably wanting to avoid drawing the snow that had given her such issues before.
The drawing now felt complete to him as he re-folded it and slid it into the pocket of his hoodie.
(*)
From the swirling black depths of the shadows, the pale blue mist hovered in wait, its mistress nearer than usual.
She watched in anticipation as the white-haired Guardian brought the human girl to her room, carrying her as a new husband would his spouse. He placed her gently on the ground and she entered the room through the window. The window was left slightly open, giving the boy means to enter if necessary, and she handed him a piece of folded paper before slipping into the bed to let sleep claim her.
The mist roiled with anticipation, but she held it at bay. It was not time yet.
She watched as a golden sand descended upon the girl, a small smile finding her lips when she saw the fantasies flash before her eyes. Exquisite landscapes took shape by the dozen, as well as many images of her flying with the Guardian.
So different, yet so alike. He was wild and free, she was grounded and disciplined, her mother saw to the latter. But both held a curiosity for new things, both would defend those they cared about with their lives. Both craved the companionship of someone who could relate to their problems on a deeper level than what they could simply see. Crushing loneliness, feeling as though they were part of the background, living their lives in a constant state of being ignored.
Yes, similar in so many ways.
"We shall see how similar you are when you are a creature of Insanity."
Ooh, suspense. Yes, another cliffhanger, s you'll just have to wait until the next few chapters to know what's going on. Sorry, it's how writing works.
Also, just for the record, I know I said I owned anything my OC's wear, and I realize it isn't technically part of her clothing, but I can't say I own a gray canvas shoulder bag like Willow's, though I would like to and I saw one once, though I wasn't exactly willing to pay two hundred dollars for it. I don't want it that badly.
Welp, I'm tired and my hands hurt, so I'm going to sleep. Night, y'all!