Following the ideas of many a tumblrian, here’s my take on a fantasy world in modern setting, without a masquerade. A family of kobolt neighbours with a centaur ? Well yeah, of course...
A quick glance at me sets the barista in motion ; she glides from station to station, her aquamarine mane follows her like a cloud of drowsy jellyfish.
“Sleeping shot, please,” I uselessly say ; she's almost done making it when I reach the register.
“Coming right up,” her flowing silvery voice beams. She puts a tiny goblet down the counter, and before I can say anything, gives me a bright smile. “With extra cream and onyx pearl !” I return her smile, and get the money out without a word. “Have a good day !”
I can never determine if they fake their cheerfulness or not. I'm sure they must run out of joy at some point during the day. I walk down the street under a thin moon, listening to the breeze blowing in well-cut shrubs fencing well maintained gardens. When I get to my street, the ugly truth strikes me ; It's obvious, they must drink their own product.
I don't enjoy going there, mind you. But I need the sleeping shot, and they're the only ones selling onyx. And the reason I need it ? My upstairs neighbours. The very same responsible for the low rent of my place. I'm stuck, you see ; I need something close to the ground. But I couldn't in my wildest dreams afford a first floor rent if it weren't for the never ending night parties of my neighbours.
I get to the foot of my building, passing in front of my ground floor neighbour. Only his huge hairy head sticks out from the dark bushes he's tending to. When his deep black gaze finally descends upon me, I nod and smile without stopping. I hear his feet clapping on the tile floor of his small parcel of garden, and a low, booming voice explode in my back.
“GOOD EVENING !” I know he doesn't mean to upset me. I know he wishes me a genuine good evening. But he knows my upstairs neighbours' habits. In fact, I can already hear their music from the entrance hallway, which promptly makes me seethe with rage. I don't take the elevator. Ever. It feels too much like flying. At least, taking the stairs makes me shed the cream from my sleeping shot, which is getting cold in my hand.
The door to my appartment is right next to the elevator, which adds up in terms of noise disturbance... When I finally close the door behind me, I let a long sigh out to shake the dizziness. I call it altitude sickness. I can't do anything about it, I don't have priority for the ground floor.
I put down my bag on the hook in the wall, and my keys in the bowl makeshift right under it. I put the sleep shot on the grey foldable table in the kitchen, and head straight to the shower. I shed my shirt and shorts on the floor and throw them in the blue basket with an expert kick. I'm too tired to wait for the water to get warm, so I settle for an ice shower. It encourages to think it prevents water wastage. After the shower, I wrap myself up in my bathrobe, an old rug look alike, with no shape or form, an go back to the kitchen. I've had enough of today, and I plan on an early night.
But when my hand closes on the brown paper cup, completely cold now, I hesitate for a second. Maybe it's time for a change. I put the cup back on the table, put on my himation hanging next to my bag, and with resolve, head out to the second floor. Time to have a chat with the neighbours. Halfway up the stairs, my resolve fades a little when my altitude sickness makes me stop and grip the handrail. Come on, I've lived on the top floor of a ten story building, I can do this. I take a few seconds to regain my composure when I get to the second floor, and head for the door directly above mine. I knock a first time, then a second before the door opens.
“Oh, hey,” the man almost scream on top of his frenetic music. His eyes are red, but he displays no aggression. He looks hazy, floating through the smoke that sips out of the open door. I can see him struggle to think for a few seconds, but then he flashes his sharp teeth, and speaks with the energy of a thousand sloths. “How it be, neighbour ? Come in, come in.” He opens his door wide and stands aside to give me a full view of his living room. Through the thick and fragrant white cloud, I distinguish four other people slumped on sofas and fat boys, all facing a large coffee table packed full of thrash and various bottles and smoking devices.
“Hi, could you lower your music please ?” I say, looking back at the door man. His smile doesn't lower.
“Come in, come in,” he repeats, as if he didn't hear me speak. I don't like speaking. I'm slow, and people tend to ignore me.
“No, could you...” but he gestures with insistence for me to come in. It doesn't look like he's going to listen to me if I don't. I exhale and step inside. I sit down on a free pouffe next to the sofa, where my host sits down.
“Whaddaya drink, we got vodka, whisky, blood, beer, rhum, gin...” he lists a few others and when I shake my head no, he smiles a bit brighter. “Oh, so you wanna some weed ?” I say no again, but he doesn't give up. He points to the guy slouched at the other end of the sofa, seemingly lost in his own world, a bong in hands. “My guy there's a shaman, he got some wicked stuff, datura, opium...”
“I don't smoke,” I say, and that's what I shouldn't have said. My host smiles even wider.
“I geddit, fam, you're into that, huh. Dom, go get the dust !” he says to one of the guys on my right.  For a second he doesn't move, and he might be dead, asleep or trying to be. But then he grunts, with difficulty he gets up from his cushion and disappears into the corridor. Apparently the question is settled for my host, because he sinks back into his sofa and takes a hand labelled glass bottle full of a dark red liquid.
I sincerely hope he doesn't mean the kind of dust I think he's talking about. I don't want to deal with that now. I just want to go to sleep. But Dom comes back with a big glowing jar, and I close my eyes for a second, because I really don't want it to be there. The bang of glass against the table makes me open my eyes.
The jar is right in front of me, and the man in it doesn't look very healthy. His light is dim, and he looks too thin. He isn't even trying to get out, he's sitting with his arms tightly wrapped around his legs and looking down. I need to leave. I've seen something floating in my host's bottle which suspiciously looks like a bone. I get up, but not too fast. In the process, I manage to knock over a pot full of pot. The glistening green heads spill on the floor, and my neighbours' eyes widen in shock and horror.
“Sorry,” I say, “Please, just lower your music.” and I turn around to leave. That'll take them a while to count in their state. He won't hurt the man while I do what I have to do.
I go back to my apartment as fast as discretion allows, just in case. I can't fight off so many people. Once I lock my door, I reach for my phone in my bag, and while I wait for the call to get through, I reach for decent clothing ; there's no need to put on clean cloth, so I go fish out today's outfit out of the basket and an extra clean sock I stuff in my pocket.
“Magical People Protection Department, I'm listening,” Junipaera's clear voice sings in my ear.
“Jun, It's Eli, id 856495-7. I have a situation at 5, Rohir residence, apartment 402. Five people, possibly four vampires and a shaman. I can attest to the presence of at least a captive fairy and possible goblin bone sighting.” I like to talk to Jun, Because however long I take to speak, she doesn't cut me off. Instead, she uses the time between my words to organize a counter team. When I'm finished, she's already done on her side.
“Okay, TacTeam K-Seventeen is on it's way, and sorry for your lost sleep in advance,” she finishes in an amused tone, before I hang up and head downstairs. The upside of this situation is that my adress is already in the database of the transport team, so I witness TacTeam appearing in a blue ring right outside of the building. I greet them in silence, but before I can close the door behing the last member, the booming voice of my neighbour makes me turn around.
“IS THERE A PROBLEM ?” He says, his four shoes nervously trampling on the ground. I consider the question for a second.
“Good evening.” I say with a smile. TacTeam is already on it's way to the second floor, and when I get there, my neighbours' door is wide open. The smoke cloud sips into the hall like a sleepy sheep. There's no shouting ; TacTeam is discreet. And soon, the music stops. The spirits be praised. I wait outside for my queue. The silence attracts one of the neighbours out. A tiny man draped in a brown sheet. Behind him, an equally tiny woman and three children try to peer above their father's ears.
“A miracle ?” The man squeaks, his huge black eyes locked on me. I smile and I nod, before Kasira, head of TacTeam, comes back to the door. Under her silent supervision, the five men are brought out cuffed and tightly guarded by two special forces each. When they've disappeared into the staircase, Kasira hand signals it's okay for me to go in. As I pass in front of her, she signs to me what they've found so far, her obsidian features closed and serious.
“Along with the fairy, a sandman, and a phoenix chick.” Damn, I should have come up sooner ; those stoners didn't half-ass their trips. “And you should see the artifacts,” I see her tell me from the corner of my eyes. But my attention sets on the table. A team member has taken the fairy out of the jar, resulting in fear and confusion. I kneel next to Brett, who sighs in relief.
“Glad to see you,” he says before getting up to join his comrades in another room, right after saluting Kasira. She watches the fairy whimper and cry on the table with glowing red eyes.
“No one will hurt faëry anymore,” I tell the fairy as an ice breaker. He's crouching in a defensive position, his arms over his head. I notice his left wings are gone, and the skin on his back looks like shredded cheese. The fucking bastards. “Name of speaker is Eli.” When I raise my hands to talk to Kasira, the fairy flinches, so I slow down.
“Will you look for honey or sugar in the kitchen ?” She leaves with a comprehensive look. The tiny man shivers but doesn't move otherwise.
“Faëry is cold,” I state as I take the sock out of my pocket. I knew I needed it. “Can Eli put blanket over faëry ?” I don't move before I get some kind of response. I almost miss his nod. “Blanket is soft,” I say as I put the sock over him. I back off ever so slowly before talking again.
“Can faëry tell name ?” The fairy shifts and repositions the blanket, grabs the edges with his tiny hands, and covers his translucent hair before pulling the tissue tighter around him. He's still looking down at his feet. As Kasira enters the room with a bottle of liquid cane sugar, the squealing voice of the fairy barely arrives to my ears.
“Dewdrop.” He retreats a little more under the sock.
“Friend Kasira found food for Dewdrop, will eat some ?” His head rises ever so slightly, a flash of ice blue eyes browses the room, and then disappears once again behind the covers. The bundle starts to shiver and cry.
“Nooo...” he sniffles in distress.
“Okay, no worry,” I say. They probably force fed him the stuff. Bad call. I turn toward Kasira.
“Go ask the neighbours for honey.” She ticks at the order, but I don't have the patience to indulge her tonight. She'll get over it. She's a professionnal, and soon she's out of the room again.
“Dewdrop has family around ?” He shakes his head but doesn't say anything. “Friend to call ?” He shakes his head again.
“Can't go home,” he spits out before I can ask anything else. I know why he's saying that, but if it makes him speak, so be it.
“Cause can't fly anymore.” That's the extent of what he has to say, apparently. Fairies aren't nice to the disabled.
“Okay, no worry, Eli will find Dewdrop nice home.” As I say this, Kasira arrives in my back. She hands the honey over my shoulder, and puts her other hand on my head. She and her team are the reason I work so often with the MPP division. Bultungins are a pain in the ass to order around ; In comparison, werewolves are sweet as sheep. If I was male, she wouldn't even consider my existence, and if I was female, she wouldn't accept my authority without constant fighting.
I scoop some honey with a finger, and crawl toward Dewdrop.
“Dewdrop want honey ?” Ever so slowly, a hand the size of a pinhead approaches my honey smeared finger. He takes a handful of it, which disappears again under the sock. It doesn't take him long to get a second helping, then a third. As I scoop more food from the jar, I hear a panicked screeching behind me. I turn to Jaun and Brett, transporting an almost featherless phoenix in a small cage out of the apartment.
“No !” On the table, Dewdrop is finally up. He runs towards the edge of the table. “Winedrop not leave Dewdrop !” His crying squeals are barely intelligible and his face is covered in honey and tears.
“Guys,” I say to the twins to get their attention, before switching to sign language. Kasira doesn't appreciate not knowing what people say to her men. “The phoenix stays with the fairy.” The brothers look at their boss for her approval, then put the cage down next to the table. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome,”  they both sign before walking out of the room, presumably to go tend to something else. The fairy crouches toward the cage and extends an arm towards the golden bars.
“Dewdrop leave here now,” I say, “Winedrop stay with Dewdrop.”
“Go where ?” He asks as the bird approaches him, cooing softly.
“Police find home for Dewdrop and Winedrop.”
“Eli stay with ? None giant speak faëry.” I was dreading this. Fairies are quick to bond with anyone they can talk with.
“Eli can't take Dewdrop home.”
“Why ?” I close my eyes, breath in and out while thinking of an answer. Faëry tongue isn't the most complexe language, and long answers can be tricky to elaborate.
“Eli work with many like Dewdrop. Eli's home not big enough for everyone.”
“Many in Eli's home ?” I sight as I realise I've trapped myself.
“No, none in Eli's home.”
“So place for Dewdrop and Winedrop.”
“I'll take them home for tonight, I'm too tired to argue with a traumatized fairy,” I explain to Kasira under the tiny man's gaze. “Would you take care of the rest here ? I need some sleep.” She nods her comprehension.
“You'll bring them tomorrow, or should I send an office worker to you ?” She asks with authority.
“Yes, good idea, please do that.” Before I can see her reaction, I turn back toward the fairy. “Okay, Dewdrop and Winedrop come to Eli's home tonight.” I put a hand face up on the table, and invite the fairy to get on. He hesitates at first, but finally he climbs on between my thumb and index. With uncertainty, he sits down in the center of my palm, and tightens his grip on the pale blue sock. With my fingers, I form a dome around the fairy without touching him, and slowly rise up to my feet. I take the phoenix's cage in my other hand, and salute Kasira goodnight, before finally going home.
