11th January: Mischief

Many stories tell of mischief and mayhem, they tell it in all sorts of ways, caused by all manner of creature. Most use fairies or goblins, they call them sprites or fear to give them names at all. Mischief to one species can be torment or suffering to another, such as milk going sour or hearing the patter of tiny feet, seeing something out the corner of your eye that when you turn isn’t there.

When I was younger I used to believe that my toys woke up when I slept, one of the reasons that I loved the film Toy Story. I firmly believed that they fought monsters under my bead. And sometimes, they too would engage in mischief. That age old idea that something has moved from where you left it.

So really, what’s to say that the two aren’t interlinked?

‘Put it down!’ came a harsh whisper from the top of the bed, ‘She’s coming!’

There was a soft thump as the toy was dropped on the floor. The door opened and a young girl skipped into the room. She was calling to a person downstairs.

‘I just need Isabell!’ But Isabell was not on the pillow where she had been carefully placed. instead she was sprawled on the floor. Her lace bonnet several feet from her head, and her skirts all askew. ‘Isabell!’ the girl chided, ‘What are you ding on the floor!’

The doll was carefully picked up, brushed off and her lace bonnet fastened back on, then she was swiftly escorted from the room. That was all the fuss that was made. Perhaps an adult would have wondered how a doll had managed to get out of the covers, and roll of the bed to be so artfully spread about; but to a child it made perfect sense, Isabell had tried to get to her.  Perfectly logical.

If there were mischievous eyes peering from under the bed, well, a lady like Isabell couldn’t have been expected to climb off the bed by herself, could she.

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11th January: Mischief

9th January: Switching

Based on a crossover fanfiction between Wicked, the musical, and Disney’s Descendants.

Switching from Glinda the Good to Maleficent the evil fairy hadn’t been very easy. In fact, it hadn’t been her¬†choice at all. As ever the Wizard and Madam Morrible made a chilling couple. Glinda had taken Elphaba’s death very hard, and she found it far too difficult to continue the charade that the duo had thought up for her, however they also seemed to believe that Glinda had signed her life away to them, in blood. Now not even Fieyero was there to help her.

Once they had realised that Glinda was serious about no longer performing her ‘duties’ as the good witch nasty rumours began to spread about her true involvement with the wicked witch of the west. Then, one day the wizard disappeared and that was when Glinda knew she was really in trouble. news spread quickly that Glinda was somehow responsible for the wizard vanishing. So she did the only thing she could, she ran.

She spent a lot of time on the run, many years passed without her truly noticing. This time allowed her to get to grips with some of the more difficult spells in the Grimmorie. Most of them were defensive, but she would have been stupid to ignore the dangerous ones, and many of them saved her life more times than she would care to admit. Still, some nights she found herself wishing that she had even a singular speck of the easy talent that Elphaba had shown.

Years later found a blonde woman on the streets of an unfamiliar kingdom, far far from the Emerald City and those that once sang the name of Glinda the Good. So too were the pink frills and glittering gowns gone, now she was dressed in rags, bitter and twisted against the world and those who had cursed her to this life.

In this kingdom she head of a new king and his new bride, along side tales of their goodness and kindness. Intrigued and slightly hopeful she slipped into the castle, but inside she was enraged to find the Wizard, sat comfortable and plush on the throne. Once more he had wormed his way into a position of power where he could ruin more lived. Glinda tried in vain to warn the kingdom of the danger he posed but the King or the Wizard had prepared for this moment. He rose with a shout and warned them all that she was an evil fairy who had hunted him since childhood. The local fairies rose against her and branded her Maleficent, for the malice they thought she contained.

Branded with this new name Glinda found herself banished to the edges of the kingdom, where she once more felt the sting of rejection and came to truly understand the treatment Elphaba had endured all her life. This time, though, Glinda was ready, and she was angry. So she patiently waited until the time was right.

An announcement for the newborn princess was called all though out the land, the king had been blessed with a child. Maleficent came to the castle, ready to give her blessing upon the child, despite not receiving any invitation, for it was customary in this kingdom to invite anyone of power, and she certainly had power.

‘You’re not upset?’ the new queen asked. Beside her the Wizard glared, untrusting of Glinda’s kind smile. And he was right too, for Glinda was here to exact her revenge, for Elephaba and herself. She saw her chance, and she took it, laying upon the baby a curse. As she looked into the Wizard’s eyes she knew he understood, he had used them as puppets, tiny creatures to dance to his whim. Now his child would be her puppet, dancing on the strings she played, ones that would lead to her death, just as it had lead to Elphaba’s and Glinda the Good’s.

Then she left, and she believed that finally she would have the peace that had been denied to her.

 

9th January: Switching