Freezing cold fingers

A faint humming echoed almost inaudibly in the silent ballroon, and Farrago lay curled up underneath a table, hands and fingers waving fluidly through the air. Merlin lay nose down on the floor a foot or so away from Farrago's shivering feet, his left ear stained with wine. The girl's voice shook as she continued to hum, fingers tracing invisible patterns in the air, and her blue eyes flashed bright with fear. So many people, she thought at Merlin, so, so, so, so manyyyy... and not a friend in sight...

Farrago sat up slowly, her eyes swiftly scanning the table cloth that concealed her from the crowd of stunned dancers. Above her, Miraye was screaming, ranting, raving, decapitating; but Farrago was oblivious to that. Her shaking white fingers reached tremblingly for her bear, and she managed to grab him by the ear and pull him close to her. She hugged him to her chest, lips pressed gently against the bear's fur as they formed a gentle moan of fear. The noises of the people died away and she began humming again, the colors of the table cloth shifting. With her one free hand, Farrago poked herself in the left eye, trailing her slender fingers down her cheek. Their icy coldness left blotchy red trails in her pale skin as one of her fingers slipped over her lips. Shouting, tears and terror continued above Farrago's head, but, as always, she sat unknowingly, lost deep within a constant waking nightmare.

Until three gun shots shattered the quiet, the calm.

Oh, the gun shots themselves remained unnoticed, of course; Farrago was just as uncaring for loud bangs as she was for loud voices. It was the screams that followed that tore Farrago out of her stupor and back into reality.

The first scream--and the first two shots--belonged to Miraye, but this, almost surprisingly, also remained unnotice in Farrago's mind... it was the second exclaimation of pain that caught Farrago's attention.

That terror-stricken voice belonged to Matthias.

Farrago would have recognized it anywhere... Matthias, her one true friend, her dungeon messiah, the only person she ever cared for. The madman with the gun had shot Matthias.

A completely inhuman and animal scream escaped Farrago's red lips and she unfolded her wings, breaking the wooden table into shards of wine-stained wood. Glasses of alcoholic drink and a rather heavy bowl of fruit scattered; the bowl clipped Farrago's left wing and a glass hit her in the shoulder, splattering her and Merlin with red liquid. And indeed, as Farrago leapt off the ground and into the air, wings unfolding completely, it seemed as though the entire ballroom was dripping, covered with red liquid; blood. The very air appeared to be bleeding. Farrago screamed again, and people scattered in terror as her pale form flew over them. With a well-aimed kick, she tore the gun from Larkin's shocked fingers, but didn't stop to notice his response. Her only goal was to get to Matthias before anybody else did, to save him, to take him from this terrible place.

She swooped across the room and dropped out of the air, landing spread-eagled on the floor next to Matthias' bloody figure.

Everything went silent again in Farrago's head, and the humming began again, but this time, Farrago did not dance. Instead, she began to cry, icy-cold tears splattering the floor around her. She dragged herself over a foot or so of cold stone floor until she was close enough to Matthias to reach out and touch him. She grabbed his limp wrist, feeling for a pulse; it was there. Still alive, but not for long, if she didn't do something about it soon...

She turned suddenly as a guard approached her, and stood up, hitting him full on with her right wing as she turned. He staggered back and Farrago took the time to kick him hard in both shins and then in the stomach, pushing him into a table and spilling even more red liquid.

She turned back again, crouching over Matthias, and picked him up in some kind of fit of superhuman strength. She rose above the ground and paused to hover near the ceiling, looking around for an exit. The doors were blocked by all kinds of guards and guests trying to get out of the ballroom before the dark figure above them swooped down on them, or before the pink-haired girl used her scary mind-powers, or before something totally new happened. Farrago turned toward the large window that Miraye was standing in before, and her eyes lit up as she swallowed, making up her mind.

She glanced down one last time at the man--no, this wasn't even a man, it was a BEAST--who had shot Matthias, who so obviously despised her with all his being, and was almost surprised to find him lying limp on the floor, surrounded by people. It seemed he had been seriously wounded, and Farrago laughed at that; it served him right, really.

"I hope you die, beast!" she screamed, eyes shut tight, and she flew at full speed toward the window.

At last, Farrago and Matthias were free again, accompanied into the outdoors by a million shards of colored glass. Farrago turned away from the castle and towards safety, but not before glimpsing something startling: the haunting violet eyes of one small boy. 'Those eyes are something big,' Merlin said, and Farrago nodded. 'Those eyes...'

Farrago screamed her inhuman shriek one last time, and then called out again. "I swear on all I hold dear that you will one day fall, beast! You will be your own demise!"

The voice of the presumed dark angel echoed heavily over the ball attendees, all eyes on the shattered window.

Piggies on patrol.

Alone in the dark tent, Farrago had removed her rucksack from her thin shoulders. Her eyes closed and opened again slowly, and she'd struggled with herself to keep awake and in the moment. Her pale hands shook as she removed her slightly torn black garment and stepped into this newer, fancier one... she pulled it over her shoulders and smoothed it with her hands, completely unaware of how beautiful she looked. At the time, she was aware of nothing, except that they were going back to Larkin's so-called palace, to a party of some sort.

Now, they were in the midst of the ball, and Farrago was suddenly stricken with terror. How could she have let them take her back to this place? Why did she?

Before long, however, it dawned on her that she might have a purpose here, maybe there was something she could do to assist her... friends. Friends? She whispered to Merlin. I have friends...

A newly found responsibility coursed through Farrago's veins, and she stood up straight, determined to help. She knew that Matthias and Miraye both felt extreme hatred to the man called the shrike, and she let some of this hatred in. It felt strange, she noted, to feel hate toward a human being... but, then again, this shrike could hardly be considered such. He felt no compassion. He cared naught for others. His hands remained constantly steady, even though he'd killed so many people there was no way anyone could keep count anymore. Indeed, Merlin, Farrago whispered. This man is no man at all, and for that he must die.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the ball attendees, soon to be replaced by a rather sarcastic cheer. The shrike had entered the room, and at his side was a boy... Farrago's eyes burned with hatred at the shrike, but this boy, this frail boy caught her attention, dulling the angry poison. There was something about him that puzzled Farrago... something that made her like him. Like. Hatred. Friendship. Responsibility. Anger. Such strong emotions... how very curious.

What is that monkey doing with my credit card?

Humming, Farrago daydreamed. She was pretty much tuned out, absent from the others’ conversations. For some reason, none of it seemed to interest her much… these new people, these girls, weren’t as fun to watch as Matthias was. His reactions were an awful lot funnier… and he was nicer than the girl with the pink hair, that’s for sure.

“She’s rude,” put in Merlin, and Farrago nodded. “"Yes, Merlin, I agree, she's quite rude-“ Matthias’ voice butt into her conversation suddenly.

“Up for a ball?"

“Huh?" Farrago murmured, ripped from her dream-world. Never been to a ball, she thought.

“Could be fun,” Merlin said sensibly. Okay, then-- “Yes.” As soon as she had replied, Farrago’s focus faded again. What could it be that made the pink-haired girl so rude? This, above all, fascinated her. The scientists had been rude; they’d treated her like nothing more than an interesting rock, never taking into account that she was a living breathing girl with feelings. Hmph. Although there had been one scientist she kind of liked-

"IT LOOKS LIKE NO ONE EVER LIKED YOU-NOT EVEN YOUR MOTHER." The rude girl’s voice ripped apart her thought, and for a moment, Farrago was completely conscious, all the blur and fade and mush wiped from her brain. That didn’t make sense. She squinted, trying to comprehend. She liked Matthias… he had helped her escape. She opened her mouth to say so, but Matthias replied too quickly. Not quite catching his response, she plummeted into insanity again, losing the crisp outlines she had just managed to capture.

After a few minutes, Farrago flinched suddenly, returning, if only partially, to reality. “Where’re we going?”

Farrago crouched, eyes squeezed shut, on the floor, expecting the worst. She swallowed expectantly, pulling-hard-on a lock of her hair. He’s going to leave, he’s going to leave, he’s going to--
"Get up off the floor," Matthias said, and Farrago opened her eyes, disbelieving. "I don't think you're crazy. And I'm damn certain I can fight off the Watchers, whatever they are."

Almost smiling, Farrago considered this. Fight them off… well, he was certainly ambitious, this one-and brave. She looked up at him. "They're already here. They're watching, they're always watching."

"If they do anything, I'll kick their asses back to England."

England? She paused, confused, nearly drifting into darkness and silence. Merlin, however, saved her, shouting in her mind, “Focus!” She focused. "No, they never do anything, they just watch..."

"Well, then, why do you fear them?"

She stared, disbelievingly. "They watch!" Duh!

"And that's all they do! They won't hurt you. They can't. And if they so much as try..."
Maybe… just maybe, he actually could keep her safe. What a funny idea, Farrago thought. Never even considered… hmm. His shiny arm was doing funny things, and Farrago blinked at it. From Matthias’ expression, this was meant to impress her, and it did look rather forbidding…. She gawked at it obediently.

"Now, let's go." Go where… oh. Oh! Farrago stood up slowly and began to follow Matthias again.

Through the corridors he led her, and they seemed to Farrago to twist and turn in insanely complicated patterns. Her mind wandered and her eyes blurred, glowing slightly. She was still rather upset with herself for being such a trivial little girl, and it was bringing her down quite a bit... but the Watchers had gone. Trying to remember when exactly their presence had faded, she blinked slowly. Everything was so blurred, like a load of old clothes and aluminum cans left out in the sun for months, looked at through dirty sunglasses… the major impressions were still vaguely there, but the colors and the details were faded, merging together and changing. A song, perhaps the soundtrack of a memory, began playing quietly in her head, and she walked gracefully, footsteps timed to the beat.

See into the dark... just follow your eyes… follow your eyes…
Hear her voice… calling my name… the sound is deep in the dark…
Hear her voice… I start to run… into the trees. Into the trees…

Farrago squinted, trying to recolor the faded outline of the memory.

The girl was never there. It’s always the same…

She shook her head. She was so close, so close… closing her eyes, she attempted furiously to smooth out the wrinkles, to remember-BAM. She walked straight into Matthias, who had stopped suddenly. She sat down hard, looking up at Matthias, head tilted. “Bam?” she whispered, but only loud enough for Merlin to hear.

“My sword’s just around that corner.” Matthias gestured. “You might wanna stay here. In case there’re guards.” Farrago nodded, and sat down against the wall, playing carefully with Merlin in her lap. Matthias looked at her for a moment, and then continued around the corner.

Potassium benzoate (preserves freshness)

Brodie? What in the world was this crazy man talking about? Shrugging inwardly, Farrago continued to follow Matthias.

Merlin, she thought, where do you think he’s taking us? Where do you think we’ll-in mid thought, Farrago stopped walking, standing rigidly. Her eyes opened ridiculously wide and turned an unnaturally bright blue, and she put a hand out, reaching blindly for Matthias. “They’re coming,” she whispered, a voice filled with agony and terror slipping from between her lips. Matthias frowned. “What?”

“THEY’RE COMING! Oh, oh… oh my god… it isn’t safe out here! WHAT AM I DOING IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS OPEN SPACE? Oh, shit….” Farrago covered her mouth with her hands, turning in a circle, looking for shelter.

Matthias frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?!”
Farrago shut her eyes and shook her head. “They’re coming! You… oh, shit. They’re here! They’re watching… they’re watching me!” She sat down on the floor, whitish, pearly tears leaking from her tightly shut eyes. Matthias kneeled next to her, peering questioningly into her face.
“Farrago? Seriously… what the hell is going on? Who’s here?” Farrago’s eyes flashed open, the irises suddenly completely black.
“The Watchers! The Watchers are here.”
“Uhh… right.” Matthias looked at Farrago like she was completely insane. She burst into tears again at his unaccepting reaction, and turned her face away from his.
“Go away, then. Just leave me here if you think I’m crazy. Just… just… just go.”

Farrago screamed at herself inwardly for making such an immature remark, for being so fickle. She had a way out of here, and what was she doing? Scaring it away, that’s what! With her insane babbling and her tears and her Watchers, she was driving away her only chance of escape… her only friend in years. But it was too late, now; the matter had already been placed in the open, and Farrago couldn’t bear to look at Matthias, to see how he reacted this time. She was no longer fascinated, curious; rather, filled with fear at the thought of losing Matthias now. She’d begun to like him, truly… right from his noisy boots to his hair. She liked his hair… it was so… twisty.

Well… it was only his decision now. Farrago still refused to look at him, and silently awaited the end.

Modified corn starch

What a funny man, Farrago thought at Merlin. And WHAT are tacos? Blinking, she shook herself inwardly. Focus, focus, focus. “I.. ah.. I see.” Matthias seemed to be ready to continue, so Farrago stood up straight. She had no idea where she was gonna end up, but if she was hanging around with THIS guy, things’d be sure to get interesting. Farrago tugged her rucksack onto her shoulders and pulled her hair from beneath the straps. This would be an exciting night.

As the pair began making their way through the labyrinth that was the dungeon, Farrago thought Matthias’ story over. Who was this Tac person? No, wait, he said it wasn’t… oh, Tic! Tic, that was it…. Hmm. In an attempt to block out the unwanted curiosity, Farrago began singing quietly.

“’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimbel in the waaaabe… all mimsy were the borogoves, and the mome rathes… outgraaabe. Beware the--” Farrago trailed off when she saw the look on Matthias’ face. Do I look as crazy as he thinks like I look? Farrago tilted her head, and laughed suddenly. “Beware the Jabberwocky my son… the jaws that bite, the claws that caaaaaatch…”

Farrago looked at Matthias to determine his reaction. She was rather surprised to see him smiling a little, and she laughed, amazed. It was interesting to be able to interact with another being after such a long time of loneliness… and this one had the most interesting reactions! She swung Merlin happily, enjoying these new feelings.

“Where exactly are we going?” Farrago pondered aloud, suddenly wondering. And then… “I’m hungry.” She hadn’t eaten actual food in a very, very long time… it was a wonder she hadn’t starved to death, in fact. Shrugging, she pulled the purple crystal bottle from her rucksack and poured a small amount of a thick, syrupy silver liquid onto her finger. She put the slender finger in her mouth, licking off the syrup. Matthias gave her a questioning look, and she laughed around her finger. “Potion,” she muttered blurrily, and corked the bottle, putting it away.

Hugh Fructose Corn Syrup

Farrago watched with bright eyes as the bars that had kept her trapped for so long were knocked down in such a hurry. It was a funny feeling, this potential freedom, and Farrago was almost reluctant to leave her cell.
"What's your name, anyway?" The funny man’s question barely invaded her odd feeling, and Farrago answered absently.
“I am Farrago. Who are you?” She was suddenly surprised by her own curiosity. How long HAD it been, anyway, since she had known someone well enough to ask them their NAME? How very forward of her. The strange feeling began to wear off as the answer came.
“I’m Matthias. Well, grab your bear and stay close. We're gettin' my sword and we're gettin' outta here."

Farrago’s mind jumped. Sword? Something in her blurred memory twitched, and she struggled to remember. It passed too quickly, though, and she forgot again. Blinking, Farrago was surprised by herself again; remembrance? Recognition? What DID it all mean? Shaking off the feeling, Farrago stepped toward Matthias. His back was to her, and she squinted slightly, wondering how to get his attention. Carefully, she lifted a shaking hand from her side and reached ever so slowly toward his shoulder. One long, white finger after another rested gently on the smoothness of Matthias’ coat, and Matthias jumped, apparently startled by her touch. He turned around, and she paused a moment before remembering what on earth she’d done that for.

“Ah… do you think you could wait… just a minute? I have to gather my things.” Farrago turned slowly, and then jumped gracefully over the fallen bars. Eyeing them with disgust, she reminded herself to thank Matthias for his help in gaining her freedom. She disappeared from sight into the shadowy corner of her cell, and rummaged around for a moment. She returned suddenly, with an armful of seemingly pointless items and a rucksack. She sat down on the bars, and one by one, placed the items into the bag-a carefully folded electric blue cloak, a purple crystal bottle, a stick with a funny blue crystal on the end, some jewelry and a wooden box. Then, picking up her bear, Farrago skipped out into the torch light. “I’m ready,” she said, feeling happy. “Let’s go.”

Matthias nodded, and calmly replied. “All right.” As he set off down the hallway, Farrago skipped blithely after him, thinking how good it would be to stretch her wings as soon as they got out of this cramped corridor. It had been years, after all, since she had had the chance to fly.

Suddenly, that funny feeling of curiosity swept over her again, and a question popped involuntarily from her lips. “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

A strange sense of recognition clouded her mind suddenly, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Matthias turned to answer, “I-,” but stopped short when he noticed Farrago’s odd look. “What’s wrong?” he asked, and Farrago wondered if it was concern she saw in his eyes.

The thought drifted quickly, however, and Farrago squinted unhappily into the orange torchlight. A question she had answered years before was asked again in her head, asked by a disembodied voice that had once been… a friend? “I remember. I… was… something of a scientific specimen. That man… the royal-looking one… he found me. And then I was sent down here. They poked and prodded at me for months after that. But… but…” the memory faded suddenly, and Farrago was left in darkness. She fell suddenly to her knees, and put a hand to her head. Headache… arr.

Matthias stared at her for a moment before she was able to stand up again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. Ah… what was I asking? Why’re you here?” Hugging Merlin close, Farrago spit out the question again in a quiet voice.

How doth the little crocodile.

An elated sort of voice penetrated the corridors of the dungeon-- “Mmmm… and the mome rathes outgrabe… ahahah….” Wings rustling, an extraordinarily pale girl sung quietly, her nonsensical words seeming to float blurrily in the air. Farrago Myriad squinted slightly in the darkness, fingers fumbling gently with a surprisingly clean, brown teddy bear. “Merliiiiiin,” her voice called, quietly. “What SHALL we do today?” A funny thing to ask… considering the dark, damp room Farrago seemed to be locked in. It apparently made no difference to the pale girl, though, and her mind roamed quietly in imaginative bliss. Suddenly, a rather loud thump echoed in Farrago’s mind, and she tilted her head. “Thump?” she asked Merlin the Bear inquisitively, tilting her head. Her eyes squinted suspiciously and she backed quietly into the corner of her cell, fear suddenly enveloping her mind. “What made such a thump, Merlin? What made it?” In the middle of pausing, presumably to listen to Merlin’s reply, Farrago sat up straight suddenly. “Oh, Merlin! Footsteps… ohhh. Who’s coming, Merlin? What’s coming? What if it’s… them?” She considered for a moment, and after deciding such loud footsteps could be made by nothing smaller than a human-sized creature, calmed slightly. It wasn’t them… they were tiny! She giggled like a child, the fear retreating. Setting Merlin down against the wall, Farrago stood up gracefully, striding toward the bars of her cage.

In the dim light of the damp dungeon corridor, a ridiculously tall THING with funny blue hair was making it’s way toward her, peering over it’s shoulder. When it-or he, as it was apparent to Farrago that this was a he, now-had nearly come level with her cell, she dashed back into the corner to retrieve Merlin. Why on earth was such a funny person down here, so deep in the dungeons? Nobody came down here anymore… it used to be the odd scientist would pop in to examine her, but not anymore. It used to be that there were other prisoners in this particular corridor… but not anymore!

Everything changes too often, thought Farrago. One by one, the scientists had disappeared, the other prisoners had vanished, and she had been left alone, perhaps forgotten, in the deep abyss of her mind.

The funny man was just about level with her now, and she decided to ask him what he was doing there. No, no.. not that… she would just address him. Greet him. No…

But there was no time for arguing now. Black hair swishing gently in a draft, wings rustling, Farrago peered out of her cage.

“Why, hello… have you come to take me away?”