The Curious Tale of the Starry-Eyed Princess: Chapter Four

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The sorceress’s house could be called “eclectic,” if the person talking about the place was kind. Bits and pieces of old enchanted and cursed homes are all stuck together with precarious pieces of magic, looking more like an abstract illustration than something someone could live in. And that’s only on the outside — the sorceress’s collection of enchanted items is even more impressive, ranging from a spinning wheel that gives mundane blessings rather than curses, a large hoard of tangible colors, to candles that sing when you light them. If you wander out to the barn that houses a small sanctuary of abandoned enchanted and magical pets, you’ll find the very unwise own wearing its cummerbund as incorrectly as possible, the party ants, and a duckbilled platypus.

She is currently in the back yard, locked in a debate arguing about the impracticality of glass slippers with the owl when a great sneeze and a chorus of barking announces a visitor.

With a great sigh, she tells the owl that the discussion will have to wait until later, and walks out of the barn, around the house, and into the front yard.

There are a great many things she expects to see when she comes to the front yard. Maybe another young man with a dragon hatchling he can no longer care for, or a couple with cursed marriage, or maybe someone wanting to give a hex onto their rival’s bowels.. But the fair-haired man shielding his body behind two boys and his face with an enchanted mirror is not one of them.

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Secret Santa Story: Sidekick

So, since I have no talent other than writing for the Secret Santa exchange (AND THEN THE SECRET SANTA SITE ATE ALL MY QUESTIONS), I decided to steal a bunch of my victim’s random tweets and RTs to create, uh… a different sort of story. :’D Merry Christmas with this not-Christmas-related-at-all story, Alex?

A whirring and ticking wakes me from my sleep. I flail, getting tangled so bad in my blankets that I flop onto the floor and, wrapped in my comforter, worm myself from my room and slyly creep down the hallway until I catch sight of… the desktop computer.

“Did I really?” I collapse into a heap on the floor, snort-giggling into the carpet. I’m a superhero for heaven’s sake. I guess it’s just been one of those days. Or, well, two days now since it’s three in the morning. First it started off with those stupid lawyer ads on TV freaking me out — they just get under my skin, I dunno why. Then I got up to make myself a comfort quesadilla, because cheesy goodness is the best sort of comfort food, and there was no cheese in the fridge.

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