The Tree House

[The Phantom of Paris]

In one of the tallest oak trees on the Wright's large property sits the tree house, a favorite haunt of Wright children for generations. No one really knows how old it is, although Mr. Wright claims it was built before he was even born. Despite the ambiguity concerning it's age, the tree house is incredibly safe and secure--Cassie and Shelby's mother had it restored to her liking before she ever let her children play in it. The tree house is rather large--enough room for several people to be in it at a time--and has a balcony encircling the entire thing that one can walk on and look out over the grounds. There are two ways to enter the tree house, one being the stereotypical rope ladder and the other being a wooden set of stairs, put there during the restoration to be easier for little feet to make the journey up.

[hanashyrexchana]

Juliet Echo Eco

The tree house was magnificent. No only that, but the tree was pretty spectacular as well. Juliet marveled for a good three minutes before the heat finally got the best of her. Looping her bags large handles around her neck and pushing it over her shoulder (to keep it out of the way of her hands), Juliet started hoisting herself up with the rope while using her feet to push off from the little wooden steps. Sure, she saw the stairs that spiraled around the trunk, which might have prevented her from sweating even more than she already had, but she ignored them. They wouldn't have felt right; no doubt she would feel like an intruder if she entered through a hole in the floor instead of a door. Never the less, she couldn't help the twinge of guilt she felt as she finally lifted herself into the room and laid on the floor. This soon passed when she realized it was at least ten degrees cooler inside her little discovery. Closing her eyes, she decided to look around after a bit of rest.

Twenty minutes later, Juliet sat up and stretched. She hadn't been able to fall asleep, and although she always loved a good think, she was getting bored. So, for the first time, she looked around, trying to guess who owned this place and if they were likely to show up. It was a rather large tree house - it looked as if it could easily fit at least five Juliet's. The walls were graffitied with stick figures, flowers, and friendly woodland creatures. A small crate was pushed into a corner where Juliet was sure many a tea party was attended or pirate adventure planned. Looking down the rope-ladder hole, Juliet wondered how she had managed such a maneuver as climbing all the way up in her white sun dress. Suddenly remembering the cute wrap around porch Juliet stood up and made her way outside. She was blasted by the heat almost immediately, but the view alone was worth it. The plantation house somehow managed to make itself look larger than it had from ground level. It really was a gorgeous house - remembering what she could from her architecture phase, Juliet reckoned it dated pre-civil war.

Retreating back into the cool, she dragged out her sketchbook. A recent encounter with a certain artist had pushed her headfirst into a drawing mood. Situating herself in the archway so that the cold would still reach her back she immediately started sketching the house. She was nowhere near as good as Raiu, this was true, but she wasn't bad. At least, she hoped she wasn't. She sketched for a long time without any interruptions until she saw someone pass by one of the windows.

"Shoot." Ducking back inside, Juliet pressed herself against a wall. She had completely forgotten the possibility of someone actually being home. While she was almost positive no one would come to the tree house, she decided not to go back out on the porch. Scrunching up her legs, she rested the book on her knees and started filling in the blank spaces from memory.

[The Phantom of Paris]

OOC: Long cute flashback of doom! XD BIC:

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

"God, Cassie, when will you stop interrogating me?!" Shelby croaked angrily at Cassie, who was leaning on the doorframe of Shelby's bedroom.

"I'm not interrogating, Shelby, I'm curious! What, you're not even gonna tell me who that guy is or why he came to see you yesterday?"

"No!"

Cassie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down before she accidentally snapped and said something she shouldn't. When she opened her eyes again, Shelby had turned so her back was to her, flipping through a manga book with her headphones in her ears.

That did it. Cassie stormed over to her sister and yanked the headphones away, her blue eyes flashing in anger. She ignored Shelby's cry of protest as her sister glared back, her own gaze icy and dull. "Shelby, what are you doing?!" she cried. "This needs to end, Shelby. Now. It's not good for you at all, and I just can't sit by and watch you do this to yourself!"

"What do you know about it? I'm fine."

"No you're not! I'm worried about you, Shelby!"

"Why?! You're not my mother."

Cassie stared at her. "No," she said slowly. "No, I'm your sister!"

She stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Clomping down the old servant's staircase, she let herself out through the door in the kitchen and ran into the backyard, eager to leave the mansion behind her for a while as she fumed.

What happened to us, Shelby?

Her pace slowed as the further she got from the house, her anger abating as she walked. She stopped as she neared the familiar oasis of the tree house, tilting her head back to get a better glimpse of it. A memory washed over her.

"Come on, Shel, hurry up!" Already halfway up the rope ladder, Cassie looked down at her sister teetering under the weight of her backpack and the huge stack of books she was attempting to carry up the steps. "Go on without me, I'll meet you up there," came the answering cry. Cassie nodded and continued to climb, stretching out on the wooden floor to wait once she reached the top.

Shelby was eight, and Cassie had just turned ten. Deep into her fantasy phase, Shelby had summoned Cassie to the tree house for a game.

"So what are we doing?" Cassie asked when Shelby appeared. Her sister deposited her books in a pile on the floor and sat down cross-legged in front of Cassie, taking out things from her backpack--a small bouquet of colorful flowers, two daisy chains, and two wooden sticks. "We," she said dramatically, looking up at Cassie, "are playing Fairies."

Cassie was unimpressed. "Fairies? How do you play?"

"First we have to think of our Fairy names. Then you choose where you live and what you do, and then you have to pick out what you look like."

"And then what?"

"Then we have Fairy Adventures."

Cassie nodded, still a little confused at the purpose of such a game. "Then...what's all the other stuff for?"

"Well, we wear these in our hair," Shelby said, picking up a daisy chain and putting it on her head. "These are our wands--"

"Those are chopsticks, Shelby! From the restaurant last night!"

"They're wands. And we eat these." She held up the flowers.

Cassie stared at her. "We eat flowers?"

Shelby nodded. "Yeah. They're primroses. If you eat them, you're supposed to be able to see fairies."

"I thought we were fairies. Why do we need to see them?"

"We just do. All the books say so. Now, what's your name going to be?"

Cassie sighed. "Why can't I just be Cassie?"

Shelby just rolled her eyes. "Because that's not a fairy name. You have no imagination."[/b]

"I have plenty of imagination," Cassie grumbled, turning away and flopping over onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. "Just not for fairy names. What are you gonna be, if you have so much 'imagination?'"

Shelby closed her eyes. "I don't have a name yet. But I wear pale blue, and I live in the place where the clouds meet the sky..." Cassie immediately tried to picture such a place and what it might be like to try and draw it. "Okay, what's your fairy-job or whatever you said?"

Her sister's voice became quiet. "Protector of the lonely." Cassie immediately understood, and Shelby became silent for a few minutes. "Now we need names. How about..." she picked up one of her books. "This is fun...Dragonfhair?"

"What kind of a name is that?" This went on for a while, the pair growing more and more frustrated with each other as Cassie shot down name after name. "Listen, if you don't pick, I will. And I'll give you an [/i]awful name. Like..."[/b] Shelby thought for a minute. "Smaug!"

Cassie only shrugged.

"Thistle Harpy!"

"Thorn...Leafblower!" Cassie countered.

"Poison Berry!"

Cassie glared at her. "This is stupid," she cried, sitting up. "I don't wanna play anymore. Fairies aren't even real."

She fell flat on her back as Shelby shoved her over, hard. "They are too!" Shelby wailed. "Take that back! Take it back, Cassandra Wright, take it [/i]back!"[/b] Tears glittered in her younger sister's eyes.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"TAKE IT BACK!"

"I'm sorry! I take it back!"

The tree house was quiet for a moment as Cassie stared at the ground, feeling bad for making Shelby cry. She could hear her sniffling. "I want my name to be Iris," Shelby said finally.

Cassie looked up. "Then I'll be Violet."

"You'll play?"

"I'll play."

"But...two flower names?"

Cassie smiled and leaned over to hug her. "Yes, two flower names. We're sisters, we have to match." She paused, hugging her baby sister tightly. "Love you, Shelby."

"Love you too."

Cassie stood up and started down the rope ladder. "Be right back," she promised. When she returned, she had her best markers with her, and Shelby watched as Cassie began to draw on one of the walls: two red-headed fairies, one in sky blue, the other dressed in purple and green.

'Iris,' she wrote beneath the blue one.

'Violet,' beneath the other.

'Sisters 4 Ever.'

Cassie stood up with a sigh, going over and starting to climb the steps up to the tree house. I wish we could go back.

She froze as she reached the top and realized she was not alone. "He--Hello? Is...is someone there?"

[hanashyrexchana]

Juliet Echo Eco

One more line…. And she was done. Juliet chanced another peek out the door, to see how accurate she had been. ’Not bad. Not bad at all.’ Putting the sketchbook aside, she reached back inside her bag, this time for a deck of cards. It was a long process every morning, deciding what she’d put in her bag. Sharpies, her cell phone, I-pod, and wallet were a must, but it took at least half an hour for her to choose what else. To-day, she had packed cards, a sketchpad, a small pocket edition of the dictionary, and a matchbox car that she had found on the side of the road on the way there. She hadn’t bothered bringing any origami paper; she had decided to let it take time, like Raiu had said. She was already up to one-hundred, and she didn’t want to finish too soon.

Opening he small box, she took out he fifty-two cards and started shuffling absent-mindedly then dealt them out onto the floor as a game of Solitaire. She played for a little while, admittedly cheating a couple times, until she heard a small gasp come from the rope ladder hole.

’Crap. What do I do now?’

"He--Hello?” There was definitely a person there. It was not the wind, as Juliet had hoped, nor was it her imagination. It was a girl, and she sounded very scared, as she should. ‘Poor dear probably thinks I’m a murderer or a lunatic or something.’ ”Is...is someone there?" Quickly pushing all her cards into a pile, Juliet scrambled on her hands and knees towards the hole.

“Howdy,” She greeted, smiling down at the freckle covered redhead. “Didn’t really expect anyone to come up here… Sorry if I gave you a fright. Great view huh? Is this yours, or were you just curious, too? I have cards, if you wanna play a game, or I know some magic tricks…. Or if you here to think, I can be quiet.” She giggled a little, hoping to ease the girl into a conversation. “Maybe.”

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

The tree house was the one thing in Cassie's life that never seemed to change. Her entire life it had stood in the backyard, solid like a fortress, always there and waiting for her should she need it. It was familiar and comforting from it's perch up in the tree, inviting you to climb up and forget the world for a while. The tree house had stood there through birthdays and bonfires, Fourth of July parties and barbecues, sleepovers and Fairy Adventures. When was the last time I was up here? I can't even remember...I guess you never really outgrow some things, do you? Even if you think you do...you don't. Not really.

And so she made the trek up to the old haven of wood and leaves, taking the stairs at first but abandoning them for a chance to re-live her childhood by taking the old rope ladder. It took her a bit longer than it had in the past, because she wasn't used to it, but Cassie didn't care.

The tree house seemed smaller than it had when she was younger, or maybe Cassie herself felt older as she reached the top, looking around. Her eyes fell on another figure and she froze. Seemingly unaware of her, a dark-haired girl in a white dress sat contentedly playing cards on the floor, absorbed in her game. What?! Her eyes widened as she said in disbelief, "He--Hello? Is...is someone there?" Idiot, of course there's someone there, you can see them! But...why is she here? Is she a...

The girl made her way over to where Cassie was still dangling from the ladder, a sheepish smile on her face. “Howdy. Didn’t really expect anyone to come up here… Sorry if I gave you a fright. Great view huh? Is this yours, or were you just curious, too? I have cards, if you wanna play a game, or I know some magic tricks…. Or if you here to think, I can be quiet. Maybe.”

Cassie stayed where she was, her arms starting to hurt from the strain of holding on to the rope ladder. "Well...you don't look like a ghost," she said, voicing the first thing that came to mind.

Immediately she felt like kicking herself. She blushed and hauled herself from the ladder onto the floor of the tree house. She brushed some imaginary dirt off her knees, embarrassed. "Um...sorry about that. That was stupid. Um...I see you like my tree house?"

I should have stayed inside.

[hanashyrexchana]

Juliet Echo Eco

Just as she finished up a rousing game of Solitaire, was interupted by a rather scared looking redhead who just happened to decide then and there to pop her head into the little treehouse."He--Hello? Is...is someone there?" She asked, even though she was staring straight at her. It wasn't really that stupid; most people need a voice or something to confirm things they didn't believe they were seeing. ' Just your luck, Juliet. Now you have to go introduce yourself, before she faints or calls the police.'

“Howdy. Didn’t really expect anyone to come up here… Sorry if I gave you a fright. Great view huh? Is this yours, or were you just curious, too? I have cards, if you wanna play a game, or I know some magic tricks…. Or if you here to think, I can be quiet. Maybe.” Her smile grew as the girl just stared, still scared speechless.

Finally, she managed to speak. " Well...you don't look like a ghost."

"I should hope not! I'm very much alive, probably. But you can come check, if you want. I don't bite." She backed away from the hole so the girl could pull herself up.

"Um...sorry about that. That was stupid. Um...I see you like my tree house?"

Juliet surveyed the room again, taking in more now that she knew who the owner was. "So it is yours! Sorry, it just looked to cool to not check out. though my part is the view. That your house, too?" Juliet waved towards the archway where her sketchbook still lay open. "oh, hold on..." Quickly, she scrambled towards the book and picked it up. "This close enough?" She almost felt like a child, holding up her picture towards the nice stranger.

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

When you meet a person for the very first time, even if they do happen to be trespassing on your tree house, there are several traditional greetings one could use. 'Hello' is one of the obvious choices, as are 'Hi!', 'Who are you?' 'Nice weather we're having' or the classic 'What are you doing here?' Any of those phrases, or things similar, would be good choices to use when meeting someone.

Which is why Cassie felt like such an idiot for what she actually said. "Well...you don't look like a ghost." The childish--and possibly insane-sounding--question seemed to hang in the still, muggy air of the tree house, as if trying to suffocate Cassie with her own stupidity. Maybe I should just go...just crawl back down the ladder and pretend nothing has happened before I make an even bigger idiot of myself than I already have.

Then again, who can blame me...some girl I've never seen before in a white dress, hiding in my tree house, which might just be as old as the mansion? Sounds pretty ghostlike to me.

Sundress Girl didn't seem too fazed by Cassie's comment, though. "I should hope not!" she said cheerfully. "I'm very much alive, probably. But you can come check, if you want. I don't bite." Okay...that's a little weird.

Cassie gave a small smile. "Um...sorry about that. That was stupid. Um...I see you like my tree house?" she asked, pulling herself up from the rope ladder hole into the tree house.

The other girl took another look around the tree house, and Cassie watched her take in the sights. Cassie's eye caught a glimpse of the fairy picture she had drawn of herself and Shelby--Violet and Iris--and she grinned. "So it is yours!" Cassie gave a nod. "Sorry, it just looked to cool to not check out. though my part is the view. That your house, too?" Another nod. "Oh, hold on..."

Cassie watched as the girl raced over to the doorway that connected the tree house to the balcony that surrounded it outside, grabbing what looked like a journal. "This close enough?"

She looked at the drawing of her house and beamed. "Yeah, that's really good! So, do you draw too, then?" She held out her hand. "I'm Cassie."

[hanashyrexchana]

Juliet Eco Echo

After a long, awkward silence filled with the two strangers exchanging bewildered looks, the redhead finally spoke up."Well...you don't look like a ghost." There was another silence while the other girl looked like she was giving herself a mental face-palm. Juliet herself considered pulling out the awkward turtle, but she decided against it. Instead, she managed to force out a fairly convincing giggle.

"I should hope not! I'm very much alive, probably." She nodded with a mock solemnity, then added a jaunty "But you can come check, if you want. I don't bite." She scrambled to make make room for the chick to let herself up.

The poor girl looked rather apologetic, as if she was the one who had broken into Juliet's tree house. Of course, Juliet wouldn't really care, but that was beside the point." Um...sorry about that. " She smiled meekly. "That was stupid. Um...I see you like my tree house?

Juliet took a moment to reexamine the room. She could feel the other girl staring a hole in the back of her head as she studied the art on the walls. " So it is yours! Sorry, it just looked to cool to not check out. Though my favorite part is the view. That your house, too?" Freckles, as Juliet decided to call her until she figured out her name, kept nodding to everything Juliet said. Once again, she wondered about neck-arthritis. Looking out towards the house again, she remembered her sketch. "Oh, hold on..." She made her way over to the doorway and grabbed the book, then showed it to Freckles. "This close enough?"

Freckles grinned at the sketch. "Yeah, that's really good! So, do you draw too, then? I'm Cassie." Cassie? I like Freckles better, but it is pretty.

"Today I do. Juliet." She took Freckles extended hand. "So you're an artist, then? Is this your handiwork?" Juliet waved towards the nearest graffiti, a couple of fairies labeled Iris and Violet. "you have anything more recent on ya?"

[The Phantom of Paris]

Cassandra "Cassie" Wright

That's so weird that she's an artist too...actually, it's also weird that she broke in here to draw my house, but that's not the point...life is so weird sometimes, isn't it? Ironic, maybe? I don't know. But she draws too. And she's pretty good, actually. Houses are sometimes hard to draw, with perspective and facades and stuff, but she did a pretty good job, especially since I know for a fact it's not the easiest house to draw.

In another moment of stupidity and useless questions, Cassie asked the trespasser if she drew. No, of course she doesn't. I'm obviously hallucinating the sketch in her hands. She's never picked up a pencil in her life. God, why do I fail so much today? I'm Cassie," she added almost as an afterthought. At the very least I should know Miss Trespasser's name, so I can stop referring to her as Miss Trespasser in my apparently very addled by the heat mind...

"Today I do." Cassie raised her eyebrows at this but said nothing. One of those kids who's got a different obsession every day? I thought that was more popular among the younger set. "Juliet."

Juliet? Oh, cool, like the play. Or Keira Knightley's character in that soccer movie. "Nice name," she said as Juliet shook her hand. "Are your parents Shakespeare fanatics or something? My dad claims they saddled me with Cassandra because he's got a thing for Greek mythology, but it's a family name, so I don't know who to believe." She shrugged and laughed.

"So you're an artist, then? Is this your handiwork?" Juliet asked, gesturing to the fairy portrait. Cassie grinned. "Yep, I did that. I'm Violet. I've been drawing since...forever, really."

"You have anything more recent on ya?"

Cassie shook her head. "Nope, sorry...but if you wanna come inside, I could show you...besides, there's air conditioning. And lemonade. You up for it?"

[Elda Forever]

OOC: Hopefully this isn't a problem, but we want some Shelby/Preston, methinks. I'm gonna take some liberties with what's going on currently so it's somewhat believable that Preston is out in Shelby's yard. 0.0 But if there are issues, let me know. For the sake of clarity, this definitely takes place at a later time than the previous interaction. BIC:

Preston Brailsford

The Wrights had a huge yard, in Preston's opinion. Maybe it was just his city-boy status, but he sort of felt the same way standing in their yard as he did standing on a completely empty stage. Lost. But torn between feeling lost and liking all that open space, ready to be used for something. He looked up and down the yard, wondering if this could somehow be used for the musical Shelby was doing. She'd actually asked him to help out, but not in the way he expected. She was giving him a part.

After a moment, Preston spotted a treehouse. With a little smile, he wandered over and peered up into the branches. He decided to go up in it, clambering up the rope ladder easily and poking his head through the opening. Wow, it's a pretty sweet treehouse. He remembered the dinky, crooked little wanna-be fort he'd made when he was little. It had failed so miserably, and he'd just left the wood out in the yard, half-finished with his project, until his dad had insisted they clean up the huge mess he'd left.

Preston pulled himself inside and crawled over to the balcony, peering down at this much more thorough view of the yard. The house seemed to swallow up everything, and the bright sunshine seemed to reflect off everything and stun his eyes. He wondered again if they could use the huge yard for a scene in the Phantom. The graveyard scene popped to mind, but it would be easier and more authentic to use a real graveyard nearby. He needed to see the adjusted script again. If the whole side-story thing developing between Raoul and Meg came through, they might need an open garden-like area to film in. Until then, he just sat cross-legged on the balcony, staring out across the yard. His eyes wandered over the rooftop of the Wrights', spying the areas they would use for the epic rooftop scene.

[The Phantom of Paris]

Shelby Wright

So, maybe this was a bad idea.

She had asked Preston the Mustang Guy to participate in her film studies musical project. Against her better judgment--or so she kept telling herself--Shelby had decided to give him one of the Manager roles, hoping that because he had at least been familiar with the concept of musical theatre, he might be able to sing as well. Hadn't he been in a couple musicals at school or something? She couldn't remember. She figured it would be nice to had someone who at least sort of knew what they were doing in the theatre department, especially after that first meeting. Yukito's questions...I just don't think I can handle that many people not knowing what the heck they're supposed to do. It's hard enough with that language barrier...gah, maybe I shouldn't have cast Aidousan at all.

Her stomach growled so loudly it almost hurt her ears. Shelby sighed. She'd have to start eating more soon. She was so thin it almost hurt to look in the mirror, which is why she stopped doing that. I'll be okay. It's not like I'm not eating. I eat. Little things, late at night. That's okay, right? Right? As if to confirm her thoughts, Shelby glanced down at her thin wrist, the bone almost poking out through the translucent skin. She grimaced. Okay. I look like crap. And yet nobody notices...interesting. Oh well. I like it that way.

She ran her hand through her disheveled hair and squinted at her laptop, trying to focus on the episode of Azumanga Daioh she was watching. With a frustrated sigh she glanced at the clock. Almost four. What was that noise she heard? It was Halina's day off, and Adele had gone grocery shopping. Cassie was the only one home, and Shelby could hear from the tap-tap-tapping coming from the other side of her wall that her sister was in the next room on her computer. Probably talking to Erin or something...but if Cassie was here, why did it sound like someone was outside?

Pausing the episode, Shelby got up and threw her purple hoodie over her shoulders, covering up her FMA Homunculi T-shirt and stuffing her Al plushie in the front pocket of the sweatshirt. Hesitating, she took him out, turning his sweet face to gaze at her. True to his word as always, Al hadn't spoken to her since That Day when Mike and Yukito had come over. I miss you...

Slowly, careful not to make a sound, she crept out her door, glancing to the right, at the end of the hall where Cassie's room was. If her sister caught her coming out of her room, Shelby knew it wouldn't be pretty. She'll want to socialize, and...ugh. No thank you. Walking on her tiptoes, she entered the second-floor sitting room, going straight over to the windows that overlooked the massive backyard. She squinted, peering out over the vast grounds. Her eyes roved over the gazebo, the carriage house way at the back, the live oak trees and the swings sheltered beneath some of them, the treehouse...

The treehouse.

She leaned closer. Was that...yes! A definite shadow in one of the treehouse windows. Someone was up there.

No longer caring if she made noise, Shelby ran down the back stairs and through the door in the kitchen that led out into the yard. It was somewhat cold for New Orleans, probably about seventy degrees or so, but to Shelby the slight chill seemed to cut right through her. Probably because I haven't been eating, she thought glumly, shoving her hands into the pockets and running towards the old treehouse.

"Hey!" she called. "Hey! Is someone up there?"

[Elda Forever]

Preston Brailsford

He'd gotten lost in his own head again. He didn't hear anyone coming out of the house, and he didn't see Shelby making her way across the lawn until it was too late to high-tail it out of the treehouse - was that technically trespassing? It probably didn't matter - and avoid being seen at all. He doubted sightseeing would work for it. Being helpful would probably be met by a cold glare from the harsh now-indie-director. Preston drew himself back into the treehouse anyway, forcing himself not to peer out and watch her approach.

"Hey!" she called. Her voice was still hoarse from lack of use. If she did speak, it seemed, she was always yelling. Preston felt like a guilty child hiding with his stolen cookies. The fact that he was hiding up in a tree wasn't helping stifle this illusion. "Hey! Is someone up there?"

Making a 'that's just my luck' face, he made himself smile as innocently as he could manage when he moved into her view. "Uh..hey! Just me." As if that made any difference. He shrugged, "I guess I should make like a tree and leaf, huh?" Without waiting for an answer he slipped out of the treehouse, easily dropping down to the ground a couple of feet before the end of the rope ladder. As if written by some law that he should, as soon as Preston's hand came off the ladder they went into his pockets, adding to the slightly embarrassed look on his face considerably. Staring at the ground as he took a step or two closer, he had to add, "I just thought...uh..I was getting a better look at the yard, in case we could use it for the play." He momentarily lifted his hands in a surrendering gesture, "Really."

His gaze fell on the plushie sticking out of her front sweatshirt pocket. What is that? He couldn't keep a bit of a smile from playing at the edge of his lips, and averted his eyes from it, going back to staring at the grass awkwardly. I don't really understand you, Shelby.

[The Phantom of Paris]

Shelby Wright

She hugged her arms to her chest as she ran towards the tree house, both to protect her frail body from the chilly--to her, anyway--air and to make sure her plushie didn't fall out of the kangaroo pocket of the sweatshirt. Because that would just make this whole Alphonse fiasco even better, wouldn't it? I don't understand it. I've apologized over and over again to you, Al. What more do you want from me, hmm?

She strained her eyes trying to see exactly who it was up in the tree house. It was cloudy and overcast today, but despite the sky being darker Shelby's eyes still weren't used to being outside after so many weeks of computers and television and artificial light. She could only make out shadows through the windows of the tree house. Probably just some stupid kid...maybe we ought to invest in a fence. Or some particularly vicious guard dogs.

"Hey! Hey! Is someone up there?" She came to a stop at the foot of the rope ladder, crossing her arms defiantly and glaring up at the intruder.

Inexplicably, it was Preston Mustang Guy who stuck his head out the tree house window. Well, that's just unfortunate on so many levels. Her gaze never faltering, she stared up at him, waiting for an explanation. "Uh..hey! Just me. I guess I should make like a tree and leaf, huh?"

Shelby raised one eyebrow and said nothing. Lame pun, musical theatre-loving pseudo-stalker. She watched as he climbed easily down the familiar rope ladder, dropping to the ground in front of her a few feet from the final rung. "What are you doing here?" she asked. It wasn't an accusation, nor really a real question...more like a disinterested statement than anything else.

Mustang's hands went into his pockets again--Shelby was beginning to wonder if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two. "I just thought...uh..I was getting a better look at the yard, in case we could use it for the play. Really."

She gave a vague nod, not believing him for a minute. Noting that his eyes were no longer resting on either the top of her head or the grass beneath her feet, she followed his gaze. Her pocket. Immediately she turned away from him, moving so they were facing the same direction. Wordlessly, she took out the plushie and tossed it over to the tree, not caring where it landed for the moment. She then stepped back over to where she was facing him as if nothing had happened. "Well, that's nice. You've seen it, then. I have ideas."

[Elda Forever]

Preston Brailsford

His really, really lame attempt at an explanation was met with narrowed eyes and a snappy question. "What are you doing here?" Preston watched her for a moment, as if unbelieving that she would even ask that - what really happened was that he had just realized he liked the way her eyes seemed to flash and glimmer when she got ticked at him - and then his hands went instantly to his pockets. Explain yourself, hot-shot... go ahead and try...

"I just thought...uh..I was getting a better look at the yard, in case we could use it for the play. Really." His eyes fell to the doll-type thing sticking out of her jacket pocket. It was a strange thing to see, peering happily out of the pocket of this solemn, thin-faced girl with the flashing eyes and flaming red curls. Once she noticed he was smiling with amusement at the doll-thing, she turned as if to shield the toy from his eyes. Then, she seemed to decide against it, and just took out the plushie to throw it at the tree. Wow. I think you would have hurt that tree more by just glaring at it the way you glare at me.

"Well, that's nice. You've seen it, then. I have ideas." She sounded pretty insulted to him. He offered a shrug, then went quietly to pick up the plushie, holding it in his hands and inspecting it curiously.

"To be honest, I don't know what it is. So I don't see myself getting any 'ideas'... " He smiled, his finger touching on the gray head as he did get a few ideas. Like imagining Shelby curled up asleep with this doll-thing tucked under her arm, or seeing her wander around the house with it poking out of her pocket like it had been. "What's it from? A movie or something?"

[The Phantom of Paris]

Shelby Wright

"I just thought...uh..I was getting a better look at the yard, in case we could use it for the play. Really." It was such a lame excuse that a different Shelby, a Shelby of long ago, would have laughed and teased him for it. This Shelby only narrowed her eyes at him slightly, her heartbeat quickening in paranoia when she realized he had caught a glimpse of her Al plushie. Immediately she felt her face grow hot. It's nothing. He's nothing! Nothing! Really! Stop looking at him! Stop looking at me, too! Stop looking at me like...like I'm the 8th wonder of the world or something or...whatever! Just stop!

Before she could really think, she had turned and flung her beloved Alphonse away, and that betrayal hurt more than Al's leaving that day had. Her face burned with shame as she watched it fly away from her in a graceful arc before landing with a slight thump at the base of the tree. This was worse than Al refusing to talk to her. This felt like...like she'd purposely pushed Alphonse away, that she was consciously choosing Preston over Al. And that hurt in ways Shelby didn't want to begin to think about.

"Well, that's nice. You've seen it, then. I have ideas," she said, not really hearing the words as they came out of her mouth. To this, Preston only offered up one of his signature shrugs, before turning away to retrieve the forlorn figure at the bottom of the tree. No! Don't do that! Don't touch him! Ugh! Why do you always do that?

"To be honest, I don't know what it is. So I don't see myself getting any 'ideas'...What's it from? A movie or something?"

"Something like that," Shelby said quietly before taking it back, hugging the familiar figure to her chest like a small child. She met his eyes for a fraction of a second, not liking what she saw there but not knowing a thing to do about it. Then, just as quickly, she let the plushie drop back down onto the grass. "Stop that. Stop...looking at me like that. Like you actually care. Like I'm broken and you know how to fix me or something. Because you don't. You can't." She was trembling now, her croaky voice now shaky and unstable. She felt vulnerable, and she hated it. Why? What gives you the right to feel like you can fix me? That you should fix me?