*waves* HI EVVYBODY! O.o Wassup? Listen, I'm putting this back up. I
deleted the first one because *covers eyes* some VERY screwed up things
happened with the story regarding names.
DISCLAIMER: I only own myself, Tessa. I don't own Jennie or Alison, even, because they are PEOPLE. *waves* HI JEN! YOU READING THIS? I swear I won't screw things up this time! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Artemis Fowl: The Cousins' Conspiracy
By Tessa And Jennie
Chapter One: Reuniting
The Ops Booth, underground:
"Holly, I'm worried about Artemis Fowl."
The speaker was not your average scientist, though he did call himself one. Short and somewhat stout, the centaur leaned back in his swivel chair, stroking a curly, ruddy beard. A huge three-screen computer was softly humming, its keyboard being manipulated by expert fingers. Known as Foaly by his few friends, the creature was infamous for his gift of sarcasm.
His companion, nearly three feet tall, wasn't sure if he was being sincere. She had auburn hair that was currently cropped to her earlobes, and fiery, determined eyes. Pointed ears marked her as one of a species that humans thought had died out or never existed - an elf, by the name of Holly Short.
Her story goes back several years, to the fatal moment when she had been abducted. Her fate had been spun out between her captor, a brilliant, sinister boy, and the commander of her police squad. The only girl in the whole of Recon, a branch of LEP (Lower Elements Police), her body was thin and nimble; but even her wit had not stopped her abductor from succeeding in acquiring fairy gold in exchange for her. The boy's name was Artemis Fowl II, which had a sinister ring itself. And Foaly was worried about him?
"And why exactly are you anxious for our infamous criminal mastermind?"
The centaur hesitated. "I can't get a hold on his web page, and it's bothering me. What's he up to now, I wonder?"
Holly began to smirk. "Ever since he found out you could access any file on the planet, he's used notebooks - for the most part anyway. Which is probably hard on his poor delicate fingers, but I think he'd sooner have blisters than a nosy centaur poking around his records." She paused. "Delicate fingers" was not exactly true, as he had actually saved her life during the goblin insurgence by crawling across the roof of a pitching radioactive train. She flinched, remembering how she had nearly lost her finger - and her life - on that same train. Her eyes traveled to the scar around the digit in question, still raw and red after two years hence.
"I don't know. I just have a feeling. He's fifteen now, you know." Her friend followed her gaze to the wounded hand.
Holly considered this.
"I'll be ninety in March," she pointed out. Elves lived nearly ten times as long as Mud People (such they had christened the race of men). "And you'll be - what - a hundred and forty-three next June?"
Foaly winced. "Julius will probably be announcing his millennia birthday."
The only female captain in Recon closed her eyes, remembering her aggressive and exceptionally loud commander.
"If he doesn't have a heart attack first. Do you remember when I was first assigned to his squad three years ago?"
It was the centaur's turn to smirk.
"The world remembers that year, Holly. You are the only unsuccessful ransom hostage in the history of the People."
"D'Arvit," mumbled Holly, rubbing her eyes wearily as her period in Fowl Manor flashed before her eyes. "Well, I think Root -" She didn't have the nerve to call him by his first name, as Foaly did. "- didn't like me because I asked him how old he was my very first day in his office."
Foaly's jaw dropped. "Did he kill you? No, you're still alive. D'Arvit, Holly, even I'm not that stupid." A spark of curiosity caused him to ask, grinning slightly, "So, how old is he?"
The captain shot him a withering glance. "Do you think he answered me? Besides the normal roaring and turning purple?"
A grating voice behind her caused Holly to jump and redden. "I'm so glad you have entertainment at my expense," Root drawled, glaring at the two friends from his stance in the Ops booth doorway. Ever since Foaly had been trapped in his own office, he had removed the protective doors.
Holly fleetingly wondered how long he had been standing there. She waited expectantly for the blast of fury, which would probably accompany her career suspension. Like Foaly, she now taunted the commander more than any sane elf would dare - both were never actually fired, though. The trio had formed an odd companionship since the Artemis Fowl incidents. She had that much to thank the arrogant teen for, an ally himself if not an actual friend.
Instead of bellowing, however, the commander shot her a furious look before dropping into the chair beside her. "So, what's this about Artemis Fowl?"
"Like I said, sir, his web page doesn't have... anything. Except for his vital statistics. And that's hardly anything to go by. I seriously doubt that he's sitting at home twiddling his thumbs."
Root folded his arms, watching the centaur closely. "Is this your regular paranoid self talking, or is it something I should actually be worried about?"
Holly smiled slightly. They all knew Artemis was not a person to take lightly. If Foaly thought the mastermind was up to something, then he was probably up to something.
The scientist paged through the meager report. "There's another way I could try..." The commander growled something inaudible before raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Try it, then," he hissed. "This is Artemis Fowl we're talking about."
Foaly opened a file, typing in a combination of letters and numbers to download it faster - password-assessable, like all of his documents. "I saved his computer number under a disk, as well as his e-mail code - not too hard, I can tell you. All you really need to do is close the box and open his falsely secured print, which is as easy as typing hello..."
Root was losing his patience, as he always did with the vain computer whiz. "How does this help us?"
"Well, I can log on under his files code, though I would have to reboot the entire system. Like fitting a six-year-old computer into a fairy laptop. But I can do it, though it will take me three weeks to get our system back to normal. Good job I have everything on disk."
"Do we really need to do this?" Holly asked, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Hadn't she learned not to underestimate Artemis Fowl by now?
"Not really," said Foaly. "Curiosity mainly, and apprehension. I've tried to check up on his page every month, call me paranoid if you wish... but..."
"Fine," growled Root, ignoring the dubious looks that a passing team of gremlins shot him as he stood, fingering his buzz baton. "Just get on with it."
Five minutes passed. Grumbling to himself, the commander sank into a velveteen chair, allowing his eyes to close as Foaly typed furiously.
Some twenty minutes later, the centaur prodded his stomach gently. "Not a genius, eh, Julius? Come and look at this. He's certainly ambitious, our little Arty."
"D'Arvit," yawned Root as he stirred himself, rising from the padded chair. Holly was sitting motionless, staring at the screen; the criminal teen's web page had just fully downloaded. He tottered over, paging down through the files.
"D'Arvit," he said again, a moment later. "He's insane."
"Tell me about it," agreed Foaly, looking over his shoulder.
Holly didn't say anything. As crackbrained as the scheme was, she couldn't help but feel that she would be part of it, maybe even wanted to be part of it. Artemis Fowl was a boy you ought to avoid, but for some reason, she was always pulled into his plans.
Always.
She was right.
Fowl Manor:
Artemis Fowl steepled his fingers, brows knit in frustration. He had black hair, usually flat and well groomed; today it wisped over his pale skin, which was bleached from the many hours he spent before the computer. His blue eyes, so deep and intelligent they were almost black, glared at the laptop screen before him.
An exceptionally tall, aging man entered the room behind him, roughly over six feet. Though Artemis was almost done growing, he still had to look up maybe ten inches to look the person in the eye. It was his bodyguard (actually known as Butler, the only human ever that had taken out a fully armed LEP squad, not to mention a troll). Watching over his charge was a difficult job as it happens, for Artemis was not prepared to sit tight and wait out a chance of riches, or even just the odd danger. Though his muscles were thin and rarely exercised by any means, the teen had acquired a taste for adventure; his experiences with Holly had by no means diminished them.
Yet another male sat down beside the adolescent. This one had a scarred face, painfully burned and worn; one of his legs was gone from the knee, meaning he had to use a crutch. No less ambitious than his son, Artemis Senior had the household wrapped around his fingers, though only one person took that view.
Artemis the Second scowled as his father beamed at him. The teen had been in complete control of his life before - with the aid of Holly, Butler, and Root - he had rescued his father. Now he barely had a moment to spare, what with the boarding school and repetitive lessons that he was forced to attend.
"What are you doing?" asked his father, laying a hand on his son's shoulder. Two years before, the stiff Artemis the Second would have melted at the kindly action. Now, irritable, he shrugged it off. In a way, he was like his past enemy, Opal Kaboi; never happy as second in command. And in his eyes, his father was in command.
"Trying to get on my laptop." His reply was short. "Unfortunately, I think it might be damaged. It's like I'm already on, and trying to get on again..." His voice trailed off as he tried to explain the problem. Why bother? he thought glumly.
His fingers skimmed over the keyboard again. Again, the connection failed. And even as he sat fuming, the screen blossomed into an email.
For a moment he was too surprised to even read it. Then, with an odd feeling, his eyes traveled over the hieroglyphic-like script. It wasn't Egyptian, though.
Something gripped his stomach. Butler's too, for even from his position at the back of the room, he recognized those shapes. It was Gnommish, the language of the fairy people.
His mind needed only a second to translate it. With a casual click, he closed the window and shut his computer down.
"What language was that?" asked his father, puzzled.
"I dunno. It was probably just junk mail," lied Artemis glibly.
He sat back in his chair, pondering the message. Was it possible? Did the fairies know about his plan, even though he had secured the file even with a password? He realized, suddenly, that he wanted them to know. Wanted them to help. Wanted it to be another carefree adventure, another secret between him and the People. And it looked like it was going to be.
The message had not been junk mail.
Not without me, Holly had written.
He smiled.
Well? Whatcha think? GIMMIE REVIEWS!
DISCLAIMER: I only own myself, Tessa. I don't own Jennie or Alison, even, because they are PEOPLE. *waves* HI JEN! YOU READING THIS? I swear I won't screw things up this time! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Artemis Fowl: The Cousins' Conspiracy
By Tessa And Jennie
Chapter One: Reuniting
The Ops Booth, underground:
"Holly, I'm worried about Artemis Fowl."
The speaker was not your average scientist, though he did call himself one. Short and somewhat stout, the centaur leaned back in his swivel chair, stroking a curly, ruddy beard. A huge three-screen computer was softly humming, its keyboard being manipulated by expert fingers. Known as Foaly by his few friends, the creature was infamous for his gift of sarcasm.
His companion, nearly three feet tall, wasn't sure if he was being sincere. She had auburn hair that was currently cropped to her earlobes, and fiery, determined eyes. Pointed ears marked her as one of a species that humans thought had died out or never existed - an elf, by the name of Holly Short.
Her story goes back several years, to the fatal moment when she had been abducted. Her fate had been spun out between her captor, a brilliant, sinister boy, and the commander of her police squad. The only girl in the whole of Recon, a branch of LEP (Lower Elements Police), her body was thin and nimble; but even her wit had not stopped her abductor from succeeding in acquiring fairy gold in exchange for her. The boy's name was Artemis Fowl II, which had a sinister ring itself. And Foaly was worried about him?
"And why exactly are you anxious for our infamous criminal mastermind?"
The centaur hesitated. "I can't get a hold on his web page, and it's bothering me. What's he up to now, I wonder?"
Holly began to smirk. "Ever since he found out you could access any file on the planet, he's used notebooks - for the most part anyway. Which is probably hard on his poor delicate fingers, but I think he'd sooner have blisters than a nosy centaur poking around his records." She paused. "Delicate fingers" was not exactly true, as he had actually saved her life during the goblin insurgence by crawling across the roof of a pitching radioactive train. She flinched, remembering how she had nearly lost her finger - and her life - on that same train. Her eyes traveled to the scar around the digit in question, still raw and red after two years hence.
"I don't know. I just have a feeling. He's fifteen now, you know." Her friend followed her gaze to the wounded hand.
Holly considered this.
"I'll be ninety in March," she pointed out. Elves lived nearly ten times as long as Mud People (such they had christened the race of men). "And you'll be - what - a hundred and forty-three next June?"
Foaly winced. "Julius will probably be announcing his millennia birthday."
The only female captain in Recon closed her eyes, remembering her aggressive and exceptionally loud commander.
"If he doesn't have a heart attack first. Do you remember when I was first assigned to his squad three years ago?"
It was the centaur's turn to smirk.
"The world remembers that year, Holly. You are the only unsuccessful ransom hostage in the history of the People."
"D'Arvit," mumbled Holly, rubbing her eyes wearily as her period in Fowl Manor flashed before her eyes. "Well, I think Root -" She didn't have the nerve to call him by his first name, as Foaly did. "- didn't like me because I asked him how old he was my very first day in his office."
Foaly's jaw dropped. "Did he kill you? No, you're still alive. D'Arvit, Holly, even I'm not that stupid." A spark of curiosity caused him to ask, grinning slightly, "So, how old is he?"
The captain shot him a withering glance. "Do you think he answered me? Besides the normal roaring and turning purple?"
A grating voice behind her caused Holly to jump and redden. "I'm so glad you have entertainment at my expense," Root drawled, glaring at the two friends from his stance in the Ops booth doorway. Ever since Foaly had been trapped in his own office, he had removed the protective doors.
Holly fleetingly wondered how long he had been standing there. She waited expectantly for the blast of fury, which would probably accompany her career suspension. Like Foaly, she now taunted the commander more than any sane elf would dare - both were never actually fired, though. The trio had formed an odd companionship since the Artemis Fowl incidents. She had that much to thank the arrogant teen for, an ally himself if not an actual friend.
Instead of bellowing, however, the commander shot her a furious look before dropping into the chair beside her. "So, what's this about Artemis Fowl?"
"Like I said, sir, his web page doesn't have... anything. Except for his vital statistics. And that's hardly anything to go by. I seriously doubt that he's sitting at home twiddling his thumbs."
Root folded his arms, watching the centaur closely. "Is this your regular paranoid self talking, or is it something I should actually be worried about?"
Holly smiled slightly. They all knew Artemis was not a person to take lightly. If Foaly thought the mastermind was up to something, then he was probably up to something.
The scientist paged through the meager report. "There's another way I could try..." The commander growled something inaudible before raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Try it, then," he hissed. "This is Artemis Fowl we're talking about."
Foaly opened a file, typing in a combination of letters and numbers to download it faster - password-assessable, like all of his documents. "I saved his computer number under a disk, as well as his e-mail code - not too hard, I can tell you. All you really need to do is close the box and open his falsely secured print, which is as easy as typing hello..."
Root was losing his patience, as he always did with the vain computer whiz. "How does this help us?"
"Well, I can log on under his files code, though I would have to reboot the entire system. Like fitting a six-year-old computer into a fairy laptop. But I can do it, though it will take me three weeks to get our system back to normal. Good job I have everything on disk."
"Do we really need to do this?" Holly asked, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth. Hadn't she learned not to underestimate Artemis Fowl by now?
"Not really," said Foaly. "Curiosity mainly, and apprehension. I've tried to check up on his page every month, call me paranoid if you wish... but..."
"Fine," growled Root, ignoring the dubious looks that a passing team of gremlins shot him as he stood, fingering his buzz baton. "Just get on with it."
Five minutes passed. Grumbling to himself, the commander sank into a velveteen chair, allowing his eyes to close as Foaly typed furiously.
Some twenty minutes later, the centaur prodded his stomach gently. "Not a genius, eh, Julius? Come and look at this. He's certainly ambitious, our little Arty."
"D'Arvit," yawned Root as he stirred himself, rising from the padded chair. Holly was sitting motionless, staring at the screen; the criminal teen's web page had just fully downloaded. He tottered over, paging down through the files.
"D'Arvit," he said again, a moment later. "He's insane."
"Tell me about it," agreed Foaly, looking over his shoulder.
Holly didn't say anything. As crackbrained as the scheme was, she couldn't help but feel that she would be part of it, maybe even wanted to be part of it. Artemis Fowl was a boy you ought to avoid, but for some reason, she was always pulled into his plans.
Always.
She was right.
Fowl Manor:
Artemis Fowl steepled his fingers, brows knit in frustration. He had black hair, usually flat and well groomed; today it wisped over his pale skin, which was bleached from the many hours he spent before the computer. His blue eyes, so deep and intelligent they were almost black, glared at the laptop screen before him.
An exceptionally tall, aging man entered the room behind him, roughly over six feet. Though Artemis was almost done growing, he still had to look up maybe ten inches to look the person in the eye. It was his bodyguard (actually known as Butler, the only human ever that had taken out a fully armed LEP squad, not to mention a troll). Watching over his charge was a difficult job as it happens, for Artemis was not prepared to sit tight and wait out a chance of riches, or even just the odd danger. Though his muscles were thin and rarely exercised by any means, the teen had acquired a taste for adventure; his experiences with Holly had by no means diminished them.
Yet another male sat down beside the adolescent. This one had a scarred face, painfully burned and worn; one of his legs was gone from the knee, meaning he had to use a crutch. No less ambitious than his son, Artemis Senior had the household wrapped around his fingers, though only one person took that view.
Artemis the Second scowled as his father beamed at him. The teen had been in complete control of his life before - with the aid of Holly, Butler, and Root - he had rescued his father. Now he barely had a moment to spare, what with the boarding school and repetitive lessons that he was forced to attend.
"What are you doing?" asked his father, laying a hand on his son's shoulder. Two years before, the stiff Artemis the Second would have melted at the kindly action. Now, irritable, he shrugged it off. In a way, he was like his past enemy, Opal Kaboi; never happy as second in command. And in his eyes, his father was in command.
"Trying to get on my laptop." His reply was short. "Unfortunately, I think it might be damaged. It's like I'm already on, and trying to get on again..." His voice trailed off as he tried to explain the problem. Why bother? he thought glumly.
His fingers skimmed over the keyboard again. Again, the connection failed. And even as he sat fuming, the screen blossomed into an email.
For a moment he was too surprised to even read it. Then, with an odd feeling, his eyes traveled over the hieroglyphic-like script. It wasn't Egyptian, though.
Something gripped his stomach. Butler's too, for even from his position at the back of the room, he recognized those shapes. It was Gnommish, the language of the fairy people.
His mind needed only a second to translate it. With a casual click, he closed the window and shut his computer down.
"What language was that?" asked his father, puzzled.
"I dunno. It was probably just junk mail," lied Artemis glibly.
He sat back in his chair, pondering the message. Was it possible? Did the fairies know about his plan, even though he had secured the file even with a password? He realized, suddenly, that he wanted them to know. Wanted them to help. Wanted it to be another carefree adventure, another secret between him and the People. And it looked like it was going to be.
The message had not been junk mail.
Not without me, Holly had written.
He smiled.
Well? Whatcha think? GIMMIE REVIEWS!