Template:Featured Articles/13-2018
"I still can't feel my magic, either," Megan said, frowning at the giant sugar crystal in her hand. So this was what it was like to be mostly cut off from the demon part of her. It felt... not as good as she'd imagined. "So the next full-size person that comes into the kitchen, shall I fly up then and say 'ello then?" "Probably our best bet, yeah. At least we're in the most popular room in the mansion, right?" Amanda tried to joke, but it fizzled. No-one was feeling particularly hopeful, it appeared, and everyone seemed at a loss without their magic - even Amanda had to admit she felt more vulnerable than she had in a long while. "And in the meantime, we rest up and hope for the best." It took far longer than usual for someone to come into the kitchen, or at least, that's what it seemed to the shrunken-down group. But at last, footsteps approached — a series of reverberating footsteps that seemed to shake the very tile of the kitchen's large expanse. The shaking only grew in intensity as the visitor neared. Somewhere high above, a left out jello cup rumbled ominously as the source of the noise appeared from the hallway. The slow-moving figure was a hazy silhouette mainly blocked out by the kitchen's islands and chairs, but he was tall, barefoot, and placing each foot on the floor in a way that might be stomping if not for the surety of the motion, like every footfall was a claim to land. His features were almost unintelligible across the distance of the floor, but a pair of Buick-sized wings on each ankle could be clearly seen as the man made his way to the sink. Megan squeaked and froze. As the giant winged feet thundered through the kitchen, suddenly her task seemed a lot more daunting. Courage, girl. It was just Namor. Looking to the others, she thought of how tiny and helpless they looked. This had to work! Megan took off into the air and sailed over an island to land on top of the paper towel holder by the sink. "Hey! Hey, listen! It's me, Megan! Namor, I'm tiny!" The giant figure didn't acknowledge her at all, but his attention, as she could see now, was firmly on his phone. Tap. Tap. Swipe. "'Ello?!" she squeaked. It was no good. She had to get closer. "Oi! Over here!" She shouted from just beyond the edge of his screen, arms waving and wings buzzing. If the phone had had an extended antenna, she'd be standing on it. Tap. Tap. Pause. With hardly a blink, Namor waved aggressively, but absently, at the spec hovering near his display. "Namor!" Megan shouted, this time mere centimeters from the end of his nose. "Look, it's me! I'm tiny and I need help!" Another swat. Harder this time -- his super reflexes causing a surge of air to go hand in hand with, well, the obvious as he patted in front of his face. Namor was squinting now, at least, but the flush that spread across his features spoke more of annoyance than promise. For all of Pixie's enthusiasm, super hearing wasn't one of King of Atlantis's gifts (and, some might argue, regular hearing as well). She was merely too small to hear. Megan darted out of the way, buffeted by the moving air, her heart racing with panic and her dust prickling to the surface of her skin. "You big oaf!" She flew back to the others, her anger fading into disappointment. "It's no good, I'm just a fly to him. I couldn't get his attention without getting myself smooshed." |
