Chatterbox: Inkwell

So, um, did this a while back with When January Calls... The idea being, I write a story, completely on Chatter, zero outlining, zero forethought, etc. etc. and see how far it goes. You, meanwhile, give me feedback. Um, a title may or may not be forth coming... I dunno what I'm going to be writing about...

Should be fun, eh?

Warning: I'm listening to Silly Songs With Larry right now. THIS IS GOING TO BE WEIRD, kay?

*******

Graceful sounding piano music flowed through the great hall. A skinny lady in a long, glittery dress swayed in front of the grand piano with a mic, singing some great love song that had been written nearly a century before.

Kip perched on the window sill, his beady eyes taking in the carpet of high-class people in the hall below. He stretched his wings, shifted his weight from one scaly leg to another, and tilted his head from one side to another. The large hawk, normally conspicuous and an object of admiration for the people below, went unnoticed in the dim light of twilight.

The song ended, and another one began, equally sugary and just a tad bit higher in pitch. Kip shifted on the stone sill once again, and hoped that the Call would come soon. He disliked most humans, as a matter of principle, and he especially disliked their upper-class social functions.

Give him a nice field and some scared mice, any day.

The Call came at last, as if sensing his discomfort. The tightness in the back of his skull was a welcome relief, and Kip flipped happily off of the window sill and soared into the dusky light. His great, brown wings spread to their full span and he glided away from the large palace on a warm draft of wind.

0o0o0

Kay slouched evilly in her throne... er, armchair. Morgan slouched lazily in her own armchair across the room.

Well, technically, Morgan mused, they were both slouching in exactly the same way. But then, Kay was a Necromancer- and heaven forbid she didn't do something evilly.

Between the two sisters, a scared pageboy knelt on the floor, sweat pouring down his face.

"Boy," Kay said evilly, "This floor is not sufficiently shiny. I can't see my evil countenance reflecting out of every uncovered surface." She glared at him ferociously- and evilly, of course.

Morgan snorted and crossed her ankles in a subconscious remembrance of her former days as one of the Princesses of the Realm. "He's the one who brought our dinner, Kay. And the trays were sufficiently shiny. The one you want to punish is probably quaking in his boots in the servant tower."

"Ah," Kay said, frowning. "Go get him, boy."

"Yes'm," the pageboy muttered, and dashed out of the room at top speed.

Morgan sighed, scrutinizing her sister. Necromancy had always kind of freaked her out. Besides the ever present "evil" tacked onto everything, its practitioners invariably developed sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, short tempers, and bizarrely long fingernails. Great way to lose weight, Necromancy.

But then, so was Technomancy, and as an added bonus she got to play with sparky metal things.

"Something is troubling you, Morgan dear," Kay said with an evil smile.

Morgan sighed again. "Tone down the evilness, will you? It gives me hives."

"Fine," Kay frowned at her in a sisterly way rather than an evil one. "But you're avoiding the question."

"Oh, just worried about Kip."

Kay snorted. "That old 'bot? He's been shot out of the sky by the High Overlord of the Realm's best Mages without even a dent to show for it. He'll be fi- Oh, there he is now, see?"

Kip had, indeed, just soared in through the open window to rest on the back of Morgan's armchair.

"Kip!" she said happily. "You have the information?"

The mechanical hawk clicked his beak in affirmation.

"That's my sweetie," Morgan cooed. "Be a dear and download it into the database for me?"

Kip clicked his beak again and leapt back into the air. He soared majestically out of the room.

"Revolting," Kay commented airily, "the way you croon over that hawk like it's a baby or something. Ah, Ribs!" An oversized cat skeleton had prowled out from the shadows. She leapt lightly into Kay's lap. Kay scratched absently at the base of Ribs' skull with her overlong fingernails. "Been ridding the castle of rats again?"

Ribs managed to purr despite her complete absence of vocal chords.

"That's my clever skele-kitty," Kay purred in turn, stroking the skeleton's spinal chord.

"Kettle," Morgan coughed. "Pot. Black..."

Kay glared evilly at her sister. Morgan ignored this and yawned.

*******

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