Authors note- Oh, well would you look at that- I'm alive...what a shame.
And look! I have a new fandom!
DUCK AND RUN EVERYBODY-DUCK AND RUN!
The keys to the kingdom By Garth Nix- I fully recommend the audio books, they are brilliant...
But anyhow, back on track- a brief fanfic for Pravuil and Monday's Dawn; the two most neglected characters in the series, poor guys.
I'm sorry to say that my characterization for these two needs some work- I haven't read all of the books yet, and not in any sense of an order ("then why did you write a fanfiction for them you silly child?") but, you know, bare with me...
...I do hope that it's...reasonably amusing...
Note to self- Pravuil is more fun to draw than to write for...
Pravuil... was drinking, consuming as much alcohol he could get in as much time as he could fill. He wasn't sure exactly why: as far as anyone could tell secondary realm alcohol did nothing to the mind of a Denizen, but Pravuil was going to bloody well try, regardless of the results.
Because when Pravuil sulked, he made sure to sulk properly.
"S'not fair" he muttered blearily, slumped at his little bottle covered table in the corner of Monday's Dayroom "Didn't even get a proper bloomin' ending".
It had been just under a century since the recreation of the House and realms beyond by the new Great and Glorious 'Art'. For some reason it had not yet occurred to the Denizens of the house to stop celebrating this fact- being as single minded as they were, it took them a while to change track from an idea.
For the best part of this century Pravuil had not moved from his little corner of despair and attempted alcoholism. His small reserve of magic allowed him an endless supply of copied Secondary realm alcohol, so he was going nowhere. Whenever he was done with a bottle he would simply chuck it over his shoulder and start on another, causing a small wall of bottles to slowly grow up around his table and quietly obscure him and his mumblings from view.
"S'all that Arthur wotsisface's fault" Pravuil muttered, warming up to his favourite rant "Took up all the page time being such a pointless little main character..." here he paused for a moment to grab another bottle and sway a little before throwing his head back and bawling "HE'S NOT EVEN THAT INTERESTING!"
This sudden outburst caused him to sway harder and spill a large quantity of alcoholic liquid down his once immaculate pink suit. He glanced down at the new stain, his lower lip wobbling slightly-
"...don't even like pink..."
This ended in a wet little hiccup that quickly grew into a chain of sobs as Pravuil slumped to the table top in a flurry of self-pitying tears.
Suddenly a shadow fell over his slumped form.
"Are you drinking that?"
The voice was bright and seemed unnecessarily loud for such a simple question. Pravuil raised his head to peer up at the caster of the shadow. However, try as he might he couldn't quite focus on dainty little figure in front of him. But the voice had been female, which counted for something in his books.
He wiped his nose on a grotty sleeve and hiccupped again before setting the bottle down the on table and nodding groggily at it. "Help yourself" he muttered blandly.
The woman nodded and reached down. Pravuil received a view of a dainty and beautifully manicured hand grabbing the bottle neck before it was hoisted up out of sight. A few seconds later there came the sound of loud and furious glugging as the bottle's contents was quickly downed. The bottle was then set back down again with an empty clunk.
"You don't have a clue just how much I needed that" said the woman at last, following the statement with a rather unladylike belch.
Pravuil froze and his eyes widened in fright as a sudden realization struck him. The woman's voice...He recognize that voice! Only a Denizen with a golden tongue could sound as beautiful as that...
Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head again. The woman was in full view now, no longer standing but leaning slightly on the grubby little table, glancing around at the impressive pile of empties. She was beautiful as only a high up denizen could be– with long brown locks curling crisply over her shoulders and a slender frame covered by an all rather too fancy rose coloured gown.
Pravuil straightened up in a flash, his chair threatening to tip backwards with him still on top.
"M-Monday's Dawn!" he squeaked, desperately trying to straighten out his suit "I-I do apologize my Lady, I didn't expect you to be- I mean, I thought you'd be-"
"With the others? Celebrating?" finished Dawn with a little snort
She grabbed a dainty looking lawn chair out of nowhere and drew it up to the table, sitting down with a thump. Pravuil noticed for the first time the small lacy umbrella resting at her feet.
"I don't see the point of it- all anyone ever wants to talk to is Noon and Dusk anyway, never me" Dawn muttered darkly, casting a dirty look ceiling wards.
Pravuil followed her gaze upwards, but saw nothing.
"Most of the fans don't even remember who I am!" Dawn cried suddenly "it seems that my one claim to fame was smiling sweetly and curtsying every time I was mentioned!" She mimed vomiting and took the opportunity to grab another bottle, flicking the stopper out of the neck with an impressive flash of her golden tongue.
"Besides, 100 years is too long to simply stand there and smile" She took a swig of beer before gestured towards Pravuil with the open bottle "What about you anyway? Weren't you Saturday's Dawn or something ridiculously high up? "Her gaze fell on Pravuil's grubby face and rather unfortunate nose before she added "...or something like that? Surely you of all people would be out there celebrating your continued existence..."
"That was never proven" he muttered bitterly, glad of someone to unload his troubles on at last "Not that anyone would accept it even if it were true" his eyes flashed with indignation and he continued "Worked my way right up the ladder of ranks I did, and what do I get for it? Some bloomin' mention in the penultimate book and an ending without as much as a by-you-leave... I BLEW UP A BLOODY HOSPITAL YOU KNOW! Not just anyone can do that!" The last remark was aimed over his shoulder, as if someone would respond if he were facing a new direction.
Pravuil reached out and angrily grabbed another bottle before slumping back down to his default position of self-pity.
"Well" murmured Dawn at last "I suppose it could be worse..."
Pravuil looked up from the bottle that he was tentatively nursing,
"At least we're not as screwed as that Ed child..."
Dawn took another swig from her bottle.