Fakiru-Week

Ahiru was nervous. It had been so long since she had last danced ballet, and it was the first time she would be dancing in a class filled with all normal humans instead of a mix of animals and humans. This new (well, the original teacher, but she was new to Ahiru,) teacher had an odd way of choosing partners. She held out a big brown box and told them it was filled with different colored ribbons. She explained that the beginning class members would choose from the box she held, and their potential partners would choose from the box upstairs on the balcony. When it was her turn, Ahiru shakily placed her hand in the box, thoughts running ramp

Ahiru sighed, all but dragging her bag on the ground as she walked home. She had done it again; she’d mixed up patient charts, sent blood and urine samples to the wrong places, and even forgot to give a patient a class of water they had requested. Understandably her boss had yelled at her and after her shift was over, she left, her head hung low in dejection. Perhaps she had made a mistake in becoming a nurse. ~E~L~S~E~W~H~E~R~E~ Fakir scuffed his show on the sidewalk, glaring in irritation at the ground. He didn’t really understand. Sure he prepared food a little different than other head chefs, but he had studied with the best

Autor stepped back and appraised his latest works of genius. His androids were perfect in every way, their beauty stunned even him. The lifeless droids stood before him, ready to be turned on, ready to completely their tasks perfectly. The two, he mused, seemed like an unlikely pair, for even when shut down the male had a somewhat sharp and dour expression. The second, a female, had an altogether relaxed visage; her face not contorted in a grimace nor was it lit with happiness. Her face was of blissful slumber. Perfect, absolutely perfect, and he would prove it the moment he booted them up. The results were not ones he had expected, however

Relaxation was a word Fakir had nearly forgotten since the start of the war. No one relaxed; one either fought or tended to the wounded, and the kingdom’s Princess was no exception despite her parents’ wishes. The young red-headed Princess helped where she could, bandaging and administering medicine and spreading hope. So on a beautiful, sun shining day with the war at a brief standstill, she had insisted they sneak out of the castle to a nearby hill to enjoy it. Fakir was happy that he relented to her request. Watching his Princess move about under the sun, the meadow on the hill surrounding her and the breeze catching her hair

All was black; there was neither sense of self nor a sense of environment. There was nothing, the world completely blank. But something changed; her programming was triggered and her gears began to hum with life. The feeling of a soft vibration from all the gears was the first sense given to her, and when she opened her eyes, her ears registered sound and her voice before anything else. “Hello! My name is Ahiru. Is there anything I can do to help you?” All the new sensations enraptured her and when her sight finally registered her attention was soon caught by all the different objects in the room. Fakir was next; sound was the f

Charon breathed a sigh of despair; his heart broke every time his little nephew flinched. Charon’s sister, the boy’s mother, died in an accident with the boy’s father, but instead of the child being legally rendered into his care, he was taken away and put into foster care. The man and his wife, who had abused Fakir, spoke untrue and damaging words to break and punish him. Charon fought to right the wrong that had been done, to bring his nephew, who he had considered a son, back home where he belonged. It took too much time and a lot of effort, but he finally got Rue and Mytho from Child Services interested in the case. On

Rose petals, lavender sprigs, peonies, wisteria, and jasmine. All so wonderfully scented. Ahiru had been gathering as many sweetly fragrant flowers as she could all day. She filled the bathtub with warm water and allowed the freshly picked flowers to steep and release their soothing oils and delicate scents. It was getting dark and Fakir still hadn’t returned home from the library. He had been working on a new story and would spend day after day at the library working, and when he couldn’t write, he would read for inspiration. Ahiru was beginning to worry that he was over working himself to meet his deadline, so she thought of a