Title: Flicker
Rating: PG-13
Genre: General/Humor
Charas/Pairings: Pretty much everyone is in. Pre-Etoile.
Summary: Saturday at the sanctuary and beyond. Multiple perspectives.

Through the glass he saw wisps of smoke decorating the distant sky. The only thought before he continued his slumber was that it probably did not bode well for someone's weekend.

As he sprinted like the wind and dived for cover, he couldn't help but notice. Only two things could scale a tree that fast…

A monkey. Or a cat.

Marcel was restless. Something was off… and he didn't even make breakfast yet.

In the aftermath, Zephel clung to the tree branch like a life-line, a survivor among several generations of ruined foliage.

The yolk was too runny. The berries too soft.

When he measured the flour he realized he weighed in an extra 100 grams. After he had added the milk into the bowl.

Dogs weren't supposed to chase cats on weekends. During those days they had every right to loaf, sleep, play video games and let their experiments run amok in parks.

And then it occurred to him, over the whine of his aching limbs, WHERE had Randy gone to ANYWAY ?

His cape was in tatters and had the most unsightly singe marks… and it was his good cape too.

He would have hated machines forever if those things weren't also involved in making soda.

A battle royale between tastebuds and stomach broke out the moment his eyes fell on the instant pancake mix on the top shelf.

The Queen sighed, flitting between one channel and the next.

Madam Aide was absent, having little interest in the morning 'cartoons'. Except the one with the violinist and five hot guys in it.

Julious sentenced Zephel & Randy to community service – again – replanting the area of flora they so conveniently destroyed in their latest exploit.

Marcel was strictly forbidden from helping. After all, didn't he have some riding classes to get going to ?

Oscar was in the infirmary because of a riding accident. An arm injury.

Julious was at the stables with Marcel and Souleilado. Blinking, both of them said they never saw anything like that happen.

Because he wouldn't leave me alone, was all Lumiale would say.

A violet-haired woman rapped polished fingernails on varnished wood incessantly. Books stacked high formed a small citadel around a tea set and fresh madeleines.

A man with green hair stopped abruptly in the middle in the path and sneezed. Catch of the day sloshed around in his bucket.

Oscar smirked at Randy on the ground, a few broken pots keeping him company. I still have my sword arm.

And your ego. Glossy lips curled in distaste at the hand-drawn hearts and signatures on the cast.

He knew a good thing when he saw it. More importantly he knew how to make it his before the competition found out.

A little girl glared daggers into the back of the lavender suit as the owner of the antique store rung up a velveteen teddy bear called "Ruffles".

It happened the moment he stepped into the shop. As if by magic a grand cushioned chair appeared behind him, flanked by two attendants bearing giant ostrich feather fans and mint tea in pewter.

The proprietor was apparently trying to sell him a Persian carpet. Or two… hundred.

So much for his monthly inspection of the market, Timka thought.

At the Royal Research Institute, he scrolled all the way down to the end of that all-important file. It was filled with nothing but smileys.

Lens flashed.

The prince and his retainer exchanged looks.

I don't need a carpet he mouthed silently.

The other man nodded emphatically.

In the park, a nameless child plucked a geranium.

Victor stopped dead when a silver-haired boy suddenly sprung out from behind a bush screaming:


He was probably overreacting. He was even considering docking Roxy's pay.

No one was answering though. What day was it again ?

The sanctuary enjoyed an adequate set of holidays, some more exclusive than others.

Since it wasn't the Queen's Birthday, or the Queen's Ascension, and his kitchen staff was gone, Julious knew at once that the dreaded day had come around again.

Eventually he left to look for aspirin. The chair swiveled. The screensaver wouldn't start.

Lumiale sidestepped the soil tracks on the carpet. A silver head lay on the desk, dozing. He had never seen Zephel so tired.

Charles Wong walked out of the store sans Ruffles, hands folded behind his back and a smile on his face.

Lumiale held his harp like it was alive. The dent is hardly noticeable. Since you're occupied now I'll drop it off for you to look at next weekend.

Oh, was all Zephel could say before he closed his eyes.

He made it a point to go through his pile of fan mail during the weekend. When he was in the Jacuzzi with a martini. He opened one at random.

Dear Olivie-sama, my friend is a fashion bully.

The pink-ish orb flashed alone, enticing and promising, in a corner.

Mel blew the hair out of his eyes, helpless, arms deep in suds, detergent water and a week's worth of dirty laundry.

A phone call from Clavis was totally unexpected.

Turn to your right.

Julious did and saw the crème brulee he was making for dinner burning over.

He wrote back. Would your name happen to be Marcel by any chance ?

Lumiale and Sei Lan looked up from their conversation when Randy backpedaled.

What is that dent ?

I would have been watching it if I didn't get distracted by your phone call, Julious accused the smirking man across him, after the sommelier had gone away.

I prefer acrylic, Sei Lan announced after a pregnant pause.

What did I miss ?

It's awful, Rosalia. The sweet purple-haired bishie was really an evil jerk.

Ha. Saw that one coming.

He was pleasantly stuffed and warm from the wine. As they parted for the night he reminded him, less harshly than he would admit, to not be late for work tomorrow.

Julious. Tomorrow is Sunday.

It was too dark to see the look on his face.


Author's Notes.

1. At the rate the views kept switching, hopefully no one was too lost XD

2. And what were Ange and Rosalia watching ? Your guess is as good as mine lol