Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A strident scream was heard all throughout Centopia. 

From the treetops, birds flew away in flocks. 

The river stopped gurgling in fear. 

The unicorn ran away from the open fields and hid in the woods. 

The ferngrass unicorns raised their heads in alarm, listened, and went back to grazing peacefully. 

The elves had soundproof wail walls installed in the palace and didn’t hear anything. 

“FUCK!” Gargona yelled, kicking a pebble into the ocean. “Those shitty elves! Can’t even leave the island because of them!” 

A large wave came over her, leaving her dripping wet. She shrunk instantly, jumping up on the rock behind her and crossing her arms. “Goddamnit.” 

Chapter Text

Mia and Vincent sat on their bench outside when Violetta and her goons stopped next to them. 

“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” She asked rhetorically, placing her hands on her hips. Paula was carrying her bag in order to keep the dainty contessa from ruining her manicure. 

“Leave us alone, Violetta,” Vincent sighed, closing his history book. 

“Or what? We’ll interrupt your little geeky makeout session with your girlfriend?” She snarked. 

Her little group dissolved into giggles at the ridiculous idea of nerds kissing. 

“I’m not his girlfriend!” Mia snapped her own book closed, effectively stopping the bullies’ fit of laughter. “I’m his friend. Something you clearly lack.”

Violetta snorted. “I’m noat hees geerlfreend!” She imitated, cackling with her groupies even louder. 

Mia furrowed her brows, failing to understand what happened. Her voice hadn’t cracked when she had responded, and she looked to Vincent for answers. 

Her best friend was pointedly looking away from the mean girls, beet red. When he caught her look, he jutted his chin towards the shed a few hundred meters away. Mia caught on and they both quietly grabbed their stuff and left under the scrutinizing gazes of other students, attracted by the noises of dying seagulls Violetta and her assistants (but mostly Violetta) was producing. 

Mia could pretend all she wanted, the still image of Violetta pointing and laughing at her while a bunch of onlookers watched stung. But in the safety of the shed, she could forget about it until she was forced back into the real world. 

Longingly, she stared at her bracelet, but no luck. It wasn’t glowing, which meant no quick Centopia adventure for her. She sighed, plopping down on the bench in the corner. She missed Yuko and Mo already. Onchao too, especially him. 

“Mia?” Vincent asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “I just-wanna talk about it?”

“What is there to say?” Mia leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and cupping her cheek in her palm. “Violetta being Violetta, although much more ‘laugh track extravaganza’ than usual for no reason. Why?”

“Well, um, you know, I would’ve told you, if I’d seen it happen in the beginning-well, not seen , but you get what I mean-”

“No,” Mia cut in, looking even more confused, “I don’t know at all. What the heck are you talking about?”

“See, that’s the thing. It’s…well…”

“What? What is it?” 

“You have an accent from Centopia!” He blurted out, then sheepishly looked away, scratching at his neck.

“I have a what?” Mia asked incredulously, pushing off the bench. 

“It’s not that noticeable…” Vincent’s voice cracked as he finally looked at her, “It’s just, I mean, we have exchange students all the time who have accents too, and you’re well-travelled, so Violetta was just being ignorant or deliberately making fun of you, but…you know…”

“I…have an accent.” Was all Mia said before the tension slipped out of her, and she slumped against the wall in a sitting position. “How…nevermind how, what does it sound like?”

“Can’t you hear it?”

“ Vincent.” She shot him a pointed look.

“Oh, right, sorry.” He furrowed his brows, concentrating. “If I had to give an estimate…It would be somewhere between a mix of an Irish and German accent.”

Mia blinked twice and looked at him blankly.

“You try describing something you’ve never heard before!” Vincent jabbed a finger in her direction then sat down next to her. “But I think it’s cool. No one else can say that they speak like you.”

“Yeah, since no one else can go to my magic unicorn land but me.” Mia mumbled dejectedly.

“Not yet they can’t!” Vincent exclaimed.

“Vince, you’re not going to be able to go!” Mia smiled at his antics. “The bracelet didn’t let you, so it’s probable that no one will.”

“Ah, but you’re taking the wrong approach!” He took a sheet of paper from the table and a chewed pencil and began scribbling furiously. “The scientific method in order to infirm or deny a hypothesis is to try all possibilities. So far, we’ve only tried one, and that was when we had less parameters.”

“And now we have more?” She asked, looking over at his incomprehensible handwriting.

“Precisely,” he said, pointing at her with the butt of his pencil, “ You .”

“Me?” 

“We know now that Centopia, like any other island that speaks mainly an English dialect, courtesy of our colonial ancestors that spoke the language, has a characteristically distinct speech pattern. In other terms, an accent.”

“And you’re sure I picked it up from Centopia?”

“Mia, I am your first, and only friend here. If you didn’t pick it up from there, then you’re secretly learning another language between classes.”

“Touché.” She relented, “So what now?”

“We figure out what words the elves use that are different from ours and compare how I say them and how you say them in order to understand a little what the phonic iterations of their runic alphabet are.” 

“Well, we might have to try your little experiment after class since we have, oh, less than ten minutes to get to our next classes,” Mia remarked offhandedly with a smug expression.

“We have WHAT??” Vincent yelled, checking his watch in a panic. “That’s on the third floor in the flower pavilion!” He stopped shoving his books in a hurry and stared suspiciously at Mia still sitting down. “Why aren’t you getting your things?”

Mia’s smile grew even more, smugness bleeding into her speech. “Temporary exemption from good manners class for outstanding performance at the royalty meet-and-greet last Wednesday.”

Vincent rolled his eyes and shouldered his backpack, groaning. “Totally not fair, now I have to run there! You think the school policy accepts leave for sprained ankles because of hyper-strict teachers?”

Mia wrinkled her nose. “They accepted Violetta as a student, so that doesn’t seem likely. Good luck.”

“Screw you!” He yelled back, running out the door and half-closing it behind him. 

Mia sighed in the nice shade. Her eyes had become more used to less sunlight, despite the elven environment being much brighter than the human world. 

But if Centopia gave her an accent, who knows what it might do to her down the line… 

Chapter Text

Dear diary, 

Uggggh, my math class is killing me. I wish I could just take another class instead but mom is forcing me to be in the advanced class with all the nerdy losers. Yuck! Being in a room with those sweaty kids is a nightmare. “Think about your education, Vi-vi!” Ugh, whatever, it’s not as if you’re not paying to keep me in the class because I don’t understand anything! 

Which, so unfair. I even show up to all of my classes, not like Mia the cheetah (cheater, get it?) who just leaves in the middle of class for five minutes twice every week to ‘go to the bathroom’ with her bigass book I still don’t know why she still keeps. It’s tacky, heavy, and looks older than my refined wine in the cellar for special occasions (very old). 

And then she has the nerve to get As! Like, I’m putting in the effort to be present and bomb every test but she can just dilly-dally and get perfect scores? Puh-lease. She’s obviously hiding something…Something about that ugly book of hers. Don’t worry, I’ll find out soon… 

Nothing gets under my nose, 

Principessa V

Chapter Text

“Settle down class,” Ms. Paquetta shushed her students, “We have a lot of theory to get through today, and I hope you are all prepared to take notes.”

Mia got out her pocket notebook and a graphite pencil. 

Violetta huffed, then pulled a gargantuesque book with handmade pages out of her back and pulled out an ink pen from her blazer pocket. 

Mia rolled her eyes, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. 

Ms. Paquetta went up to the board and wrote down a single word on it. ‘Commedia’, it read. She underlined it, and began talking once the class had become silent. “For our next unit, you will all participate in the wonders of Commedia dell’arte, an old Italian movement of theatre. This type of live show dates back to the 16th century, and was based almost entirely on improvisation techniques. In today’s class, I will explain the main characters and their attributes, and in the next, you will have to present a sketch in teams of two, observing proper character mannerisms.” Next to Commedia, she wrote ‘September 25: short scene (2 characters)’.  

“Miss?” Violetta’s hand shot up. 

“Yes, you will be able to choose partners for this exercise.” The teacher responded without turning around, finished writing some names and pointed to the first one. “Arlecchino,” she read aloud, “Or Arlequin. What do you associate with this name?”

Some indistinct murmurs fused from the students, a muttering of ‘genshin’ and ‘yaoi’ being the only ones Mia could pick up with her enhanced elf hearing. It was a good thing her hair covered her ears after they’d begun elongating into points after her 3rd trip to Centopia. 

A brave soul raised their hand. “Being goofy?” He asked, getting some mean bursts of laughter from Violetta’s corner. 

The teacher narrowed her eyes at the mean girl group, then turned to the student. “Nice one! Yes, that name can be a mouthful and conveys, to us as to renaissance Italians, a sort of laid-back and silly attitude. Arlequin is a valet to a rich man named Pantalone, and can be interpreted as empty-headed or cunning, but goofy. He walks like so,” she put her hands on her hips and bent her knees slightly, tapping her feet lightly, “from side to side, like a crab. He talks in a high-pitched voice and often instigates the problem in the scene, whether he knows it or not.”

Mia was reminded of Phuddle by this description and smiled. If there was anyone she’d qualify as ‘silly’ yet the root of all problems, it’d be him. 

“Next up, we have Pantalone, Arlequin’s master,” Paquetta pointed down at the second names on the board, “Who has an avarice problem and is grumpy all the time, walking with his back hunched and fingers poised in front of him to count his money.”

Mia snorted, thinking Polytheus would fit the bill for Pantalone. Hey, even their names started with the same letter!

“Now, for more mature audiences such as yourselves, Pantalone is also very enamoured with young ladies such as Colombine, wanting to marry them every time they act in a scene together, being what you youngsters would call a ‘simp’ or in some cases, ‘pervert.’”

The image of Polytheus chasing after young maidens almost sent Mia reeling. It was so out of character she was silently giggling. She’d already pegged him as a friend of Dorothy, so that wasn’t likely. Rixel, maybe? 

“This next character is a mixed bag with students. She’s called Colombine, and is Arlechin’s wife. She’s always quite cunning and moves her body sensually to get what she wants from creepy old men like Pantalone, and gets a happy ending more often than not. In a lot of pieces, she’s known for being very hard to resist because of her charms and straightforwardness.” 

Mia frowned, trying to think of who would fit the bill. Yuko was definitely out; she wouldn’t be able to pretend to be interested in potential suitors if her life depended on it. Didn’t mean she wasn’t cute though…

Mia’s eyes widened as she felt her whole face go red thinking about Yuko. Her thoughts then drifted to Mo, and she felt even hotter, and squashed those thoughts before someone got concerned and she’d be sent to the nurse’s office. 

Colombine…Try as she might, the only elf she knew…well, not really an elf in the traditional way, was Gargona. Gargona in a white shawl sashaying towards Rixel was comedy enough to last her for days. 

“Now we get to Brighella. Brighella is also a servant, a cook, to be precise, one that acts stupid and clumsy while pretending to be completely under his master’s influence but secretly harbours selfish desires to fuel his ego and his hunger. He walks around with his arms far away from his sides and laughs heartily but can switch to a cunning personality the moment he’s alone.” 

Oh, definitely Rixel if he wasn’t impatient. 

“Dottore, or the doctor, is basically a paranoid liar that likes to pretend they know everything and are the best doctor around, even though their studies were faked and those that come to them come back even sicker, this is a self-proclaimed Socrates. Because of his old age, he’s hunched forward and keeps his hands folded under his chin in a perpetual act of intelligence, he’s often the one that gives the missing piece of needed for the job to Arlechin.” 

Hmmm…Mia was stumped. She didn’t know…Oh! The Pan King! He knew most of their traditions were fake, but he still regarded them as real for the pans! Of course! 

“Pay attention!” The teacher interjected, looking pointedly in Violetta’s direction, who had begun furiously whispering to the girl next to her. She stopped then started writing in her huge book on an empty sheet of paper. Mia looked down in fear that she’d have even less notes, and she was surprised to see her page filled with perfectly legible handwritten information the drama teacher had been lecturing. 

“We’re close to the end now.” Ms. Paquetta smiled, her finger going down one row at the second-to-last name, “Tartaglia. A very shy, stuttering individual that just wants to be with his one true love Isabelle.”

Mia sighed, love blooming in her chest. Who better than Mo, the hopeless romantic? 

“Last character, everyone! This is the Capitano, or captain. Basically, this is most often a stranger, and so will have an accent different to the others in the play, and makes up extravagant tales of bravery but is actually a scaredy-cat and will run away from the slightest hint of conflict. Everyone hangs on to their every word, and this character walks with an exage stance to the side, one arm outstretched in a mimicry of swordfight.” 

If it wasn’t for that last part, Mia was almost sure that she’d be the one to fit the bill. Well, maybe that’s how some of the elves viewed her in the beginning, when she didn’t know proper elf etiquette…

“Okay class!” The young woman craned her head towards the clock, sensing that she only had mere minutes left of attention, “Your homework is as follows: in pairs of two, each chooses one character and each enters the scene using proper entrance conventions and sits down on a bench. After the second person enters, gesture to one another in what fits the character for 30 seconds, then exit the scene. Again, do not forget to not be with your back facing the public! You will have to convey your characters silently while sitting down, and the audience will have to guess. I will only pass three teams, and if you do pass next class, you won’t have to pass for the next exercise, which will take 5 minutes of presentation! Keep that in mind, and review your gait notes!”  

The bell rang, sending the students swarming almost exactly like the ideas in Mia’s head. Reenacting some of her adventures in Centopia seemed like the right call for the final project, and Vincent will surely be on board. 

Chapter Text

"Ugh, this bracelet is more annoying than Duolingo's streak alerts!" Mia complained as it chimed incessantly. 

Yuko quirked an eyebrow. "Duo-what?"

"Some bird from a language learning app." Mia explained, "He's pretty insistent on doing your lessons." 

"What happens if you don't do the lessons?" Mo asked with a coy smile. 

A mischievous smile spreads across Mia's face. "Duo takes your family hostage and keeps them in his lair to make you beg for forgiveness by doing all of your lessons to get them back." 

"Really?" Mo's voice has a squeak in it which he does his best (not that is works) to hide. 

Mia's laugh is refreshing to both of them, like a cascade of clear water. Yuko wondered how she was going to confess to both Mo and Mia. Mo realised he has the best girlfriends in the world. 

Mia finally pressed her bracelet, saying her goodbyes before disappearing in a flash, leaving a pile of golden sparkles where she once flown. The other two elves flew off leisurely, passing the newest piece of the trumptus between them. 

Two eyes watched them from the canopy. Green feathers fluffed in agitation, the eyes narrowing. "You come into my domain and disrespect me?" 

It laughs. "Count your days, Mia, especially those you miss your French lessons.

I know where your dears friends live.

All four of them." 

Chapter Text

Rapid footsteps echo throughout the hallway as a girl runs past the lockers and skids to a stop inside the bathroom, followed by the loud sound of a bookbag plopping down on the floor. Behind the lockers, another student furrows their eyebrows. 

“Norman! Norman, yoo-hoo, you still there?” A voice pipes up from Norman’s phone. “Was that a fire drill or something?”

“Or something,” Norman sighs, “It’s this girl in my class. Her name’s Mia or whatever.”

“And she just always leaves like that to skip?” The voice on call asks. 

“Nah, she goes back to class after five minutes.”

“Really? Five minutes?”

“On. the. dot.”

“Huh. So not an emergency code brown then. D'ya know why?”

“If I knew why, then there wouldn’t be any mystery about it, would it?”

“Ugh, you never tell me anything about your classes.”

“What’s there to tell, Elinor? She’s a transfer student with a weird sentimental attachment to this huge book, gets picked on by the rich girl, like everyone, and has these oddly specific ‘potty breaks’ during class time.”

“What, like it’s always during P.E. or math class? God, I would abuse the hell out of breaks if that meant getting away from sports…It’s just so icky to run around all the time, I legit break out in hives after class and it is so itchy. Just thinking about it gives me the willies.”

Norman frowns. “That sounds like an allergy.”

“Not! An allergy, it’s just genetic,” Elinor protests, “It’s just how it is with me.”

“Still sounds like a strong allergic reaction.”

“Oh shut up, what are you, the spirit box?” The person laughs, then puts on a shaky staticky voice. “‘Severe allergic re-action.’” 

“I'm just looking out for your health!”

“And I’m just looking out for your mo-Wait, maybe that’s why this Mia girl runs out all the time!”

“What, to hunt ghosts in the bathroom?”

“What? No, dumbass, she is the ghost! She has to go apply her anti-ghost makeup or take a break from looking human all the time so that no one figures it out!”

“ohhh,” Norman lets their voice echo on the lockers, “That makes no damn sense. Why would a ghost want to look human? Why would it want to go to school and complain about math?”

“Hell if I know. Ask her, maybe she’ll tell you about her ghost culture. Hey, what if it’s insensitive to say ‘ghost’ as if they were all the same? You know, wraiths, women in white, specters, orbs, poltergeists—There are some differences, you should ask her!” 

“And I will ask you about the homework in biology class,” Norman snaps back as they close their locker door hard, “Because I’m leaving.” 

“Noooo!” Elinor whines, “I forgot about your orthodontist! No, you can’t leave me here, I don’t want to pay attention!”

Norman laughs. “Well, should’ve thought of that before making that pact with me. See ya!” 

“No fair!” Their friend says before they cut off the communication. 

Just as Norman pockets their phone and slings their bag over their shoulder, soft footsteps echo from the bathroom. They turn their head towards the sound to see Mia trudging along back to class. Norman raises their hand to wave at her, but stops midway. 

Mia’s face is pale, and doesn’t seem to notice them as she passes by, clutching her bag closer to her chest. If Norman didn’t know any better, they’d say she looks as if she’s seen a ghost. 

Chapter Text

The woods were silent as all six figures huddled closer together on Funtopia, as if holding their breath. Mia, Yuko, and Mo all stood over to one side circling Onchao, who whinnied. 

Gargona and Rixel stood on the other side of the communication potion with Drakon, looking at the green liquid in dread. Whoever had cut their communication…That must have been a powerful foe. 

“What are you doing?” Mo shouted at the telephone soup, “Come on, fight!” 

“He can’t-“ Gargona’s throat closed for two seconds, seeing a figure emerge from the corner of the room, “He’s not here.”

“Then who’s that?” Mia asked, pointing at the cut of the figure coming closer and closer to the fumes. 

The figure cackled, a distinctly familiar laugh. In the greenish hue of the smoke, they could see her dark red head covering and her black robe swishing in the fake wind. 

“The dark lord’s most loyal servant,” Gargona blanched, recognizing the features on the dark elf, paired with her blue eyes, “Gorgana; my sister.”