

Harry Potter
Movie/Book: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Shoes: Black Chuck Taylors
Harry and I have the same shoes. WHAT'S UP?!
Anna
Just as speech is invention about objects and ideas, so myth is invention about truth. We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. Indeed only by becoming a 'sub-creator' and inventing stories, can Man ascribe to the state of perfection that he knew before the Fall! -J.R.R. Tolkien


Footsteps.
"Hello?" Dex asked tensely. It didn't make any sense for there to be footsteps in a gravity free room. He was sure he had imagined that. Something had just fallen. He gripped the corner of the shelves and peeked around the corner. His eyes still hadn't adjusted very well; all he could see was a bunch of shapes and shadows of things.
He pushed himself away from the shelves boldly, now certain that he was alone in the room; the idea of footsteps was just silly. The idea of someone in here was even sillier, and he was old enough not to freak himself out like that. He was about to go tell Marty that everything seemed to be stable enough in there to not have to tie down anything when he heard a loud bump.
He whirled, expecting to see a metal box or something near a shelf, but instead he saw two eyes shining at him from the shadowy corner. Dex automatically kicked off of the object nearest him and flew into the wall behind him. He banged his head against a sharp corner.
The pain made him stop and think. He had a gash on the back of his head, probably bleeding. He groaned out loud, forgetting to be scared of whatever was in there with him, and lifted his hand to feel. Good; it wasn't a gash and it wasn't bleeding. An overreaction. He would have a bruise back there, maybe a mild headache later. Or a severe headache now; either way, he would be fine. But now, more importantly; what was back there? What - or who - was watching him?
"Hello?" he asked. His voice cracked. Great. He actually sounded scared.
He thought he heard a deep breath, like someone had thought about talking and then changed their mind. He took a step forward, his eyes finally starting to adjust to the dim light in the room. He had dropped his flashlight somewhere, so he couldn't shine it at the person/thing that was hiding in the corner. Or, he assumed that he or she was hiding in the corner. He peered and tried to see the eyes, or at least a body that went with them.
He couldn't see anything. Hesitantly, Dex took a step forward.
"Hello?" he said again.
A quiet voice answered him.
"Hello." a very, very soft voice.
"Come out where I can see you!" Dex demanded.
He heard things moving around and being knocked into the shelves and walls.
Dex kicked off frantically from the wall he was closest to and looked around for his flashlight. He didn't see it anywhere. He looked up, now looking for the person/thing that had answered him, and then he saw her.
She had a small frame and was clenching the vertical make-up of one of the shelves, now on the other side of the room. He couldn't see what she was wearing, or what color her hair or eyes were; only that she was huddled there like a scared animal.
As she turned her head, he saw the light shining in her eyes.
"Come on out," said Dex, trying to sound stern. He didn't succeed. He liked to think he was too nice a person to be mean to someone that was scared, but he wasn't sure if that was the reason.
She paused, and slowly began to emerge from behind the shelf, but paused again, as if waiting for something. "It's alright," Dex assured her.
She shook her head; her hair looked like it was wavy, or curly, or something. A little bit different from anything he had seen before. Yeah, it was definitely different.
"Are you the Captain?" she asked.
Dex was surprised by this question; but he answered quickly anyway.
"No, I'm not."
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Dex," he said, unable to think of anything impressive to say.
"Are you the writer?" she asked.
"No."
She emerged some more from behind the shelf.
"You're the mechanic, maybe?" she asked. She sounded hopeful, like she wanted to be right.
"That's right," said Dex, confused. How had she known that?
"You like to fly the ship, though." she said it like a guess.
Dex frowned; he wasn't sure what to make of this. It seemed really weird; and he should be asking her the questions, not the other way around.
"Who are you?" he asked, trying to sound stern again.
"Xarryn," she answered. "Xarryn Shaa."
"Zarin Shaw?" asked Dex, trying to get the pronunciation right.
"That's close enough," she said, but the humor that should have been in her voice wasn't there.
"What are you doing here?" asked Dex, taking a step forward. She withdrew all the way back behind the shelf.
"It's alright," he assured her. He would just have to give up being stern. It wasn't working, and if it did he would only scare her.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he added.
"The Captain will be...angry," she said.
"Why?" asked Dex, although he was thinking that it wouldn't take a whole lot to make Marty mad.
"I'm not really supposed to be here," she explained.
"A stowaway," Dex whispered.
She nodded, an action he could barely see behind all of the junk floating around the shelves.
"Yes," she whispered back.
Chapter Eleven
The Wolf: Cody
Cody followed Dex around for half an hour before the ship was ready to go. Cody loved Dex. Dex was good. Cody could just tell. He was nice, he petted him just right. Not demeaning, or afraid. Just like they were friends, and Cody liked that. As great as Milo was, there was a very subtle fear; mostly awkwardness, but it made Cody feel awkward too, which was why he didn't let Milo pet him very often.
He also found Dex's voice easy to understand. The shapes just made more sense in his voice. And, even if he didn't know what they meant, he could always get an idea what they meant, because the way Dex said them was different than Milo, more bold, more happy, but not too happy; Dex had a very subtle hint of sad in his voice. Cody didn't think anybody else could hear it but him.
And Dex's smell! He smelled good. Not just that it was a pleasant smell, but that he was a good person. The scent just radiated off of him, like how nice he was. Nobody Cody had ever met smelled like that. The residue of thousands of winds clung to him; winds made on his motorcycle - a peculiar word, Cody had a difficult time even thinking it, it was so complicated, but Dex made it easier to understand. Winds from New York City, in all sorts of places. Dirty streets filled with garbage and exhaust fumes, mingled with the raw scent of people. Some of the scents were more delicate. Children. There was a heavy smell from streets like that. And then there was lots of clean wind; clean and icy. A sweet wind. The kind that Cody liked best. It reminded him of the winds back home, and the wonderful scents it has always brung.
And then there was the smell on Dex like he had gotten very close to leaving Earth. To touching the stars, mingling with the universe. It reminded Cody distinctly of Milo's smell; except that Milo's smell reminded Cody of minor things. It was different with Dex, because Cody thought he could smell that Dex hadn't actually gotten to touch the stars. He had almost gotten to, and that made a lot of difference.
Cody kept away from the tall one with dark hair...what shape had Milo used? Marty.
There was a lot of sad smell coming off of Marty, and even more sad sound in his voice. More than Cody had ever heard in anybody before. He felt as if Dex's sadness was hidden extremely well...Marty's, not so much. And the way he looked at Cody was nervous. Maybe even afraid. Cody watched him intently as they were getting ready to load up into the ship; occasionally Marty would throw a glance Cody's way, but he never tried to get close, but he didn't go out of his way to stay away either. Cody continued to watch everyone as he stayed close to Dex, who was wandering around and around the ship, whistling to himself, extremely impressed with it. The tall female with curly hair made Cody sneeze, because she had so much artificial smell on her. It smelled good, but Cody just couldn't get a good whiff without sneezing. She respectfully gave Cody his space and didn't attempt to touch him or talk to him, which Cody appreciated. Some people just didn't know how to talk to him, and this lady wouldn't have if she tried, he didn't much think.
The other girl...Cody thought of her as girl because she seemed younger than the other lady...was nice, and he liked her, almost as much as Dex. A few times he stopped by her and would watch her as she watched everyone else. The second time he sat down next to her, she lowered herself to the floor and talked to him. Her voice was about like Milo's...some of it was easy to make out, some of it he didn't understand, and some of it he just couldn't catch at all. Not as easy to listen to as Dex, but she had a pleasant voice, like she really did care about what she was saying, and like she really did care who she was talking to.
"You're a good boy, Cody," she said quietly. All of those were words Cody knew and liked. Dogs seemed to appreciate words like that more than he did; he didn't know why. He did like to hear them, though. They gave him a good feeling inside.
"I see that you like Dex pretty well," she went on. She smiled and started to reach her hand out to Cody, but then changed her mind. Cody pushed his nose under her...hand....odd names, the humans had for their paws. She was gentle when she touched him, and it felt good. She felt more comfortable touching him than even Milo did.
Cody whined too quietly for any of the humans to hear. He knew Milo wasn't a dog person. That's what the shapes sounded like that described someone that liked creatures like Cody. Her jacket was smooth and cool on the outside, like Dex's. It smelled of some creature Cody had never seen, but he liked the way it smelled. It made him want to chew on it, but he knew that might not be polite, so he didn't do it.
They were so odd. Why would they wear things that were once meant for eating? He knew her jacket couldn't be eaten now, but it just smelled so delicious. It would taste good to chew on.
"It looks as if I'll be the quiet one, as usual. Just as well. It's comfortable to be ignored, to some extent." Lots of shapes in her voice that Cody didn't understand, but a few he recognized anyway.
"What about you, Cody? What role will you play in this story?"
Story? Cody pricked his ears. He had a very vague idea of what that word meant. It was an exciting word.
"I'm winging it with my book," she said. Cody couldn't quite place her tone...perhaps one of regret? Regret. He didn't recognize that word, exactly. Why had he thought it? Oh yes. It had something to do with being sorry. Sorry was a word he knew. Milo said it a lot.
"It'll be quite an adventure won't it? Only Milo knows what I'm really doing on this ship. The government is after me, you know. Some rubbish like that. Ugh. Too much Harry Potter, I think; I said rubbish." she giggled. Cody looked at her questioningly, tilting his head and turning his ears toward her. He wondered what she was laughing at.
"I think Dex will be the character everyone likes," she said. Cody completely understood and agreed with that sentence.
"Marlene will probably be comic relief." Hurley laughed. More laughter. It sounded nice. Milo didn't laugh very much. He smiled, often, but you couldn't hear a smile.
"Milo. Hmm. What about Milo? The driving force. The voice of wisdom. The reason we're all here. Something like that. Soothsayer! No, no, Milo doesn't seem like a soothsayer. Maybe he's just older than the rest of us. He did get all of us here; but we can't label him as anything, can we?"
She sighed.
"But I've just labeled everyone else," she muttered. She didn't seem to like whatever she was talking to herself about. "Put them in a box, of where I expect they'll go. Of course I'll be wrong. You can't box in a character, unless they're one-dimensional." She looked around and fixed her gaze on Marty.
"However," she continued, "as long as I'm doing it, I might as well make a character prediction for Marty, too. Silent hero, maybe? Doesn't say much. No, wait. Mmm. Hate to say it. He'll be the character that nobody likes and nobody understands. I like him well enough; but I'm the writer, I like every character."
Cody growled softly, cautiously. Humans didn't seem to understand that growls were used for more than bad things. He just wanted to ask her a question.
"Oh, a question," she said softly. She smiled and rubbed Cody's forehead gently. It felt nice. Cody wished more things felt like this. He felt...what was that shape? He couldn't think of it. He would have to listen hard for awhile so he could hear it. Once he heard it, he would know it.
"Me, I'll be the narrator. First person, because that's the most fun for a novel like this. I suppose it won't exactly be a novel. I'll make some things up, change the names a bit. Perhaps I'll be...Alyson. That's a pretty name. A little bit more sophisicated than Hurley. It'll be like Journey to the Centre of the Earth. It'll read like its true, but some of it I'll have to make up. I'm just going to draw heavily from everyday experience. And I don't know if my characters will be in a spaceship bound for a planet in danger."
A few seconds later she burst into laughter that Cody thought was quite unexplained, but he didn't really care. He liked how she laughed at unexplained things. "No pun intended," she gasped.
Oh well. He would probably never know exactly what she had found so funny. 'Pun' was a shape he didn't understand. She turned to look at Cody.
"What about you, Cody? Sweet boy. What part have you got in all of this? Will you bring us together? I mean - the characters? I think we're all broken, in some way, except you, maybe Marlene. I don't know. Are you the missing link?"
She rubbed the fur around his eyes thoughtfully and then scooted closer.
Cody liked that. It was so nice. Like she needed comfort too.
It took him about thirty minutes to walk there. The streets were pretty calm, nearly empty. A few late walkers like himself strolled by; a few of them looked homeless, but one or two had briefcases and nice clothes, keys clinking together in their pockets. Lucky beasts.
A few cars drove past. The headlights made Dex happy. It reminded him of Christmas time. It wasn't that far off, Christmas. Just a few months, but he wouldn't be on Earth. He would be up in space somewhere, with billions of lights surrounding him constantly. Stars!
Dex turned off a brightly lit street into a dark alley that most other people would have veered away from. It didn't bother Dex. This was his world. He had never mugged anyone, or hid in an alley waiting to attack anybody, but he had hid in an alley so that he wouldn't be attacked. Or caught. Dark alleys didn't bother him. Besides, this alley wasn't the greatest for people to be hiding in, waiting to snag an innocent pedestrian. There weren't any dumpsters in it, and it was right next to an active home, that was always in and out, dumping garbage into trash barrels. Trash barrels, not dumpsters. He shivered a little. He was walking into the wind now; and tiny ice-cold drops of water were in the air, hitting him in the face. It felt like minuscule needles, the wind was blowing so hard, but it felt good, too. Why did anybody ever where scarves over their ears and noses?
It was just silly. You couldn't feel the wind and the icy gusts of wind that way. Of course, this made his nose run worse, and even made it a little red, but he didn't care. It felt like spearmint gum washing over him, without the taste or smell. Just the ice.
He turned onto another street, and then jogged down two alleys, and then onto a street again. There was an apartment building there, the windows and door shining with bright lights from within. He took a deep breath.
Now or never, he thought.
Ugh! He didn't want to do this. Jamie was always nice, but Dad? Ugh. No. It would just be torture to go in...it would hurt both of them, that he was leaving the planet. Neither would appreciate it. Dex recapped. No, Dad wouldn't care. Dad didn't miss him when he was gone, and he wouldn't miss him when he was gone for good either. Jamie might care though, and it was only fair that he give her an explanation for his sudden disappearance. He took a deep breath and climbed the seven steps to the door and knocked loudly, wincing as his dry knuckles cracked.
He heard Jamie say something, and then, "I've got it, dear."
He waited patiently, enjoying the cold, and then Jamie opened the door. Her face lit up.
"Dex! What are you doing here? Come in, come inside before you make yourself sick!"
You had to love Jamie.
"Hey, Jamie," Dex said, smiling.
"It is so good to see you! Oh, gosh, you have grown. I thought you quit doing that."
"Guess not," said Dex.
"No, no, guess not, guess not. What brings you this way?"
"I just came to...visit some," said Dex, turning serious.
Jamie's face fell and grew dark.
"You're okay, aren't you?" she asked, her voice wavering a little. "You're not - "
"No," said Dex quickly.
"Oh, good. Don't scare me like that Dex. I nearly had a heart attack. Mercy, your face is so cold!"
Dex realized that Jamie was holding his face between her hands. She's the sweetest person I know, Dex thought. She had wide, green eyes and dark brown hair that was loosely curled. She didn't seem old enough to be Dex's stepmother. But she was; she was the same age as his father. She was one of those people that just didn't age much. The kind that looked fifteen years younger than they actually were.
Dex smiled to reassure her and then looked beyond the dark hall.
"Um...is Dad here?"
She nodded. "Yeah!"
"Mmm. I might go talk to him a minute. But - I would like to talk to you too and have a brownie before I leave."
She smiled. "Definitely! Take your time. He's in there listening to the radio and reading the newspaper."
That is so typical Dad. Dex thought.
"Okay." Dex walked down the dark entryway until he reached a door and then he turned into it, bumping into the wall with his shoulder as he passed.
His Dad was sitting there, his thinning light brown hair glowing in the soft lamp light. He turned when he heard Dex enter the room. He had light gray eyes, the same color as Dex's.
Awkwardly, Dex walked around the old recliner and sat down on the couch opposite it. "Hey Dad."
"Son," said Ray Marshall, coolly. The thing about Ray; he tried to be warm. He really did. He just couldn't do it. Dex rolled his eyes.
Same 'ole, same 'ole.
"Dad..."
"I don't know what's wrong with calling you 'son.' Fathers say that to their sons, and you are my son."
Dex sighed and looked away from those piercing gray eyes. Same color, different story. One of Dex's greatest fears was that he had that same hard look on his face. He never wanted to look that way.
"You're alright, then? I thought I heard Jamie say something about it in the hall."
"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine. I just came by to talk."
"Well, that's a first," said Ray, folding up his newspaper and setting it on the floor next to his chair.