Chap 1
“That place! People from all around gather, every day, and share their interests in writing.”
Danee leant forward through the tobacco smoke, still working her cloth-clad fingers in circles on the chipped porcelain plate. It would have been worth a fair amount years ago, Danee thought, but all these decades in the Scrub had rubbed off its beauty. Chipped and cracked it, spun it around and used it, to dump it in the rack and clean it off again, day after day. Remarkably like the people congregated in The Garrow. Danee held the plate up to the light (if the single age-old lantern swinging in the middle of the room counted as ‘light’) and flicked her hair out of her eyes, trying to seem as if examining her work; really, she was straining her ears to hear what the woman had to say next.
“It wasn’t easy to find it, but I did; didn’t know what I was looking for, but I found it. That place is...” - the woman breathed out a sigh – “Magnificent.”
“Then what ‘r ye doin’ back in ya’ Scrub?” roared a drunk from one corner. He tightened his woollen-gloved hands on the neck of his clay bottle and wheezed with the other men. The woman’s mouth tightened.
“Tellin’ worthless Cribs like ye, ya dippy loon!” She banged her fist on the bar, making it shake and drinks slop over drunks. Danee made sure to step back; when drunks lost their drinks, the next thing they did was get grabby.
“Well, wha’s so good ‘bout it?” grumbled the drunk. His bushy brows slid down over his eyes as if unattached to the rest of him. The woman opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a snore; the drunk’s mouth fell open and the vultures swooped in to snatch his drink and retreat, very practiced. Thieves scuttled over and went through his pockets.
“The valleys run with creativity and new ideas… the people are friendly and supportive.” The woman jumped into the table, her mid-calf jacket swinging and her pointed boots swiping jacks away to clear a space. Men cried in outrage and excitement.
“They group together and talk without hate! They share their ideas and get better at their skills!” The woman swept a pointing finger around the room, cloth scraps tied around her palm swinging and rings glinting.
“So what are you getting better at, missy?” cried a man in the corner. The men roared with laughter and started whooping. The man looked pleased with himself.
The woman lent down on the table and seized a fork from the table. For a minute, she weighed it; the male patrons seemed unable to come up with a suitable dirty joke for this action, and so watched her with amusement. At the climax of her final weighing jig, she hoisted it into the air, drew it back and threw it in one practiced, lighting-fast movement. The man who’d made the remark screamed with pain as the fork submerged its prongs one fourth of the way in his forehead. His mates ran, pulling him with them half-heartedly.
“It’s a wonderland! Riches run bountifully, and people of higher rankings respect and sometimes even admire you! Everyone’s different and everyone’s crazy -”
“What’s the catch?” called a man.
“Didn’t you hear her? She’s off her nut! She’s making it up!” yelled another.
“I assure you, Wunderkind Suburb is real!” she yelled, louder than the rest.
“Wunderkind Suburb?” asked a young woman in the back, “Isn’t that…?”
“Yote. Wunderkind. Suburb.” said the woman. Stifled gasps sounded around the Garrow, and even Danee held a hand over her mouth. Yote – the highest ranking of all the suburbs. This meant the Green Queen had overseen it, and rated it superior to other Suburbs. Suburbs being, of course, different worlds honeycombed in the same matrix, much like a city, although most of the worlds are massive.
“Men -”
“And women!” cut in a lady from the back.
“And women,” the woman chuckled. “All or any can come to this place of riches! But you have to prove yourself. You have to prove you have the drive, or you won’t last there, and will be destroyed.”
“How would we do that?” said Danee. She was shocked to hear the words come from her own mouth, and she placed her hand back over it but did not look away; instead, she put the last plate to wash in the rack with the others, wiped her hands on her grubby apron and lent on the bench, crossing her arms in interest.
“Just come there, with me. I’ll take you, I know the way there by portico. And when we get there, they can assess you.”
“They?” asked a man. Most of the Garrow had returned to talking amongst themselves at the ‘prove youself’ part, but several regulars were still listening.
“The members,” the woman explained. People groaned.
“It’s a club now? Like the artillery?” the man said.
“Not really, but we’re like that. The members of Yote Wunderkind Suburb.”
“I am out,” said the man, holding up his hands. The woman’s mouth twitched, but she accepted this. She pivoted on her pointed boots, looking into the faces of those around her. Some shook their heads and some just looked down awkwardly in an evident ‘no’. When she had turned nearly 360 degrees, she came to Danee, leaning against the bar behind the bar. And Danee… nodded.
She didn’t know what was going through her head. A new start, a new place – riches, new people. She was only young, compared to others in the Garrow – actually, compared to all in the Garrow. But she wanted out, even if she could get rejected, even if she could get hurt. Because she knew she had the drive, the drive to improve.
Yote Wunderkind Suburb it was.
The woman stopped spinning, and showed only a twinge of disappointment. No one was up for Wunderkind Suburb, it seemed – that is, no one except Danee.
“When do you want to go?” the woman asked, and flicked out of an inside pocket a portico. A square box, short but fat, red-and-gold paint fading and hinged on one side with once-polished metal. She flicked it open, and the decorative needle on the compass in the bottom compartment started swinging. In the top compartment with its back to Danee, she knew there would be a green mirror.
She looked around the smoky interior of the Garrow, at its squint-eyed residents, its normality, reeking of ‘old’ and ‘dead’…
Danee pulled off her apron, wrapped it around her hand and put the ball on the bar.
“Oh, I think work is over now.” she said.
Chap 2
“Hold on to my belt.” said the woman. As Danee locked her fingers around the wound cloth that was tied around her waist, the woman paused. “What is your name?”
“Danee.” she said. “Uh – and you?”
“Afeefah,” she said promptly, with a smile. “Or, that’s my YWS name.”
“YWS name?” Danee inquired.
“Yes, we all have different names in Yote Wonderkind Suburb. Makes us different, see. No past, but a future.”
Danee made a small noise of acknowledgement.
“Now, hold on tight. Is this your first time travelling by portico?” Danee nodded. Afeefah grunted. “Hmm, this will feel a little odd -”
Danee’s whole body was pushed backwards, as if being flattened against the wall of a spinning room. The compass was spinning frantically under its glass, but where it was reflected in the green mirror above, it was still. Afeefah was muttering under her breath, her eyes closed. Danee’s fingers and arms hurt. It felt as if they’d been yanked apart at the joints and pushed together again. Her hair swirled around her, stinging her face where the ends hit.
Abruptly, everything was still. The compass needle swayed a few more times before resting somewhere west of north, as would have been confirmed if the compass had any markings.
“We’re here,” Afeefah said brightly. She snapped the portico shut and put it back into the inside pocket. Danee yanked her fingers from the hold of the wound-fabric belt and stretched them. They were red along the second joint, and she could feel them throbbing as the circulation gradually returned.
Before them, a waterfall fell into a large lake, sending up a sprinkling circle of rainbow. Small cliffs rose, uneven and brown. Rocks and stumpy trees were dotted around the bank closest to them. Danee blinked, and the scene changed focus. It was actually a mural, she saw, that stretched in front of her and off to the sides. Around and behind it, movement made the landscape shift. But that didn’t stop the sight of tiny words shifting in the sky like the haze around fire, people with notebooks sitting looking up at them, taking notes. Every once and a while, someone would rip the piece of paper out of their book and hold it to the sky. A blaze of blue would swoop down, shapeless accept for two papery wings, grab the paper and fly up to the words, on which it would pin the paper.
“Now,” Afeefah turned to Danee and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at her. “You will need a name. Any specific likes? Dislikes? Or I could make one up for you.”
“Well, ahh… I don’t know…” Danee stammered, attempting to turn her head so that Afeefah’s fingers pushed her skin into small folds. Afeefah held her in place with more force, the other hand on her hip.
“Come on, think. It can be anything, not even a real name.”
Danee, seeing the look on Afeefah’s face, forced herself to think. A little brown dog with big eyes looking up at her, slightly fat from attention and food… a younger her checking from under her fringe that her aunt wasn’t looking, and slipping the little dog a sliver of meat…
“Durriedog,” Danee shot out. Afeefah grinned.
“Good!”
“Now do I have to… past the test, or?”
“Oh, that was a load of bull. I knew that if they really wanted to be here, they would have risked it.” Afeefah turned, her hair swinging, and walked off. A smile cracked across Danee’s – Durriedog’s - face, and she looked out on her new home, not sure on whether to follow Afeefah or not. Before she could decide, a woman swept up to her, some words floating behind her. She was dressed in pale blue, yellow and pink, and humble gold chains were hung around her neck. She was very pretty, with brown hair and liquid eyes, the colour of brown glass. Thin rings flashed on her fingers.
“Welcome to YWS!” she said. The words flying after her, a little less than air, caught up with her, and Durriedog saw that they said Rosey Unicorn, along with a small stamp showing a unicorn and a woman huddled under a tree surrounded by pink sky. “I’m Rosey Unicorn, or just Rosey. Who are you?”
As she said this, words popped into being behind Durriedog, almost scaring her out of her skin. They said Durriedog, but without a stamp to accompany it.
“You can change that,” Rosey said. “Just find a picture and slot it on in there. Nice to meet you, Durrie!” With that, she swept away, leaving Durrie a little baffled.
“Hey,” called another woman. She walked up close to Durrie with a friendly, enquiring smile. She was holding a piglet in her hands, petting it. It was adorable. She was surrounded by pigs, all of them snuffling around her feet and bumping their heads into her. She was wearing long, short-sleeved robes and comfortable looking shoes. Her hair was short, blonde and curly, and she had a smiling, good-natured face.
“I’m Snoink,” she said. “Nice to meet you -” she glanced at Durrie’s name floating behind her – “Durrie!”
“Yeah,” Durrie said awkwardly.
“Snoink!” called a man. He stalked to the woman’s shoulder and put a hand on it, standing an arms length away. “That one member that posted in Art and Photography, they keep posting that one picture, you’ll have to warn her.” he said. “Hey, Durrie. Welcome to YWS.” He handed her a piece of paper and walked away.
Hello, Durriedog!
Welcome to Yote Wunderkind Suburb. We are a Suburb devoted to sharing our creative works and helping one another improve.
If you want, a great way to get started is by introducing yourself in the Welcome Area. You'll find it under the Community sign, and feel free to start a page letting everyone know a little bit about yourself!
“Nate,” Snoink explained. “He’s the head here. Bye, Durrie!” she floated off, no doubt to talk to ‘that one member’. “Have a look around,” she called over her shoulder.
Durrie shook her head and pivoted on the spot. Well, she’d better go find the Welcome Area…
More people to come. If you have a problem with your character, or a problem with being one, PM me.
~Durrs
Dah dah dah 
