User talk:Fairfieldfencer/Sandbox

Angeline Fowl's Lines

Description to give you an idea of the character: Angeline Fowl was bedridden. She had been since her husband's disappearance. Nervous tension, the physicians said. Nothing for it but rest and sleeping pills. That was almost a year ago.

He worried about his mother's condition. She hadn't seen the light of day in a long time now. Then again, should she miraculously recover, emerging revitalized from her bedchamber, it would signal the end of Artemis's own extraordinary freedom. It would be back off to school, and no more spearheading criminal enterprises for you, my lad.

He knocked gently on the arched double doors.

'Mother? Are you awake?'

Something smashed against the other side of the door. It sounded expensive.

'Of course I'm awake! How can I sleep in this blinding glare?'

Artemis ventured inside. An antique four-poster bed threw shadowy spires in the darkness, and a pale sliver of light poked through a gap in the velvet curtains. Angeline Fowl sat haunched on the bed, her pale limbs glowing white in the gloom.

'Artemis, darling, where have you been?'

Artemis sighed. She recognized him. That was a good sign.

'School trip, Mother. Skiing in Austria.'

'Ah, skiing,' crooned Angeline. 'How I miss it. Maybe when your father returns.'

Artemis felt a lump in his throat. Most uncharacteristic.

'Yes. Perhaps when Father returns.'

'Darling, could you close those wretched curtains. The light is intolerable.'

'Of course, Mother.'

Artemis felt his way across the room, wary of the low-level clothes chests scattered about the floor. For a moment he was tempted to throw them wide open, then he sighed and closed the gap.

'Thank you, darling. By the way, we really have to get rid of that maid. She is good for absolutely nothing.'

Artemis held his tongue. Juliet had been a hard-working and loyal member of the Fowl household for the past three years. Time to use Mother's absent-mindedness to his advantage.

'You're right of course, Mother. I've been meaning to do it for some time. Butler has a sister I believe would be perfect for the position. I think I've mentioned her. Juliet?'

Angeline frowned. 'Juliet? Yes, the name does seem familiar. Well, anyone would be better than that silly girl we have now. When can she start?'

'Straight away. I'll have Butler fetch her from the lodge.'

'You're a good boy, Artemis. Now give Mummy a hug.'

Artemis stepped into the shadowy folds of his mother's robe. She smelled perfumed, like petals in water. But her arms were cold and weak.

'Oh, darling,' she whispered, and the sound sent goosebumps popping down Artemis's neck. 'I hear things. At night. They crawl along the pillows and into my ears.'

Artemis felt the lump in his throat again.

'Perhaps we should open the curtains, Mother.'

'No,' his mother sobbed, releasing him from her grasp. 'No. Because then I could see them too.'

'Mother, please.'

But it was no use. Angeline was gone. She crawled to the far corner of the bed, pulling the quilt under her chin.

'Send the new girl.'

'Yes, Mother.'

'Send her with cucumber slices and water.'

'Yes, Mother.'

Angeline glared at him with crafty eyes. 'And stop calling me Mother. I don't know who you are, but you're certainly not my little Arty.

Artemis blinked back a few rebellious tears. 'Of course. Sorry, Moth - Sorry.''

'Hmm. Don't come back here again, or I'll my husband take care of you. He's a very important man, you know.

'Very well, Mrs Fowl. This is the last you'll see of me.'

'It had better be.' Angeline froze suddenly. 'Do you hear them?'

Artemis shook his head. 'No. I don't hear any -'

'They're coming for me. They're everywhere.'

Angeline dived for cover beneath the bedclothes. Artemis could still hear her terrified sobs as he descended the marble staircase. Juliet Butler's Lines

Note: She was born in America and loves the country, so most likely speaks with an American accent. Maybe have a teenage city girl spin on it.

Butler's little sister, Juliet, was sitting at the foot of the stairs. Her gaze was boring a hole in the wall. Even the glitter mascara couldn't soften her expression. Artemis had seen that look already, just before Juliet had suplexed a particularly cheeky pizza boy. The suplex, Artemis had gathered, was a wrestling move. An unusal obsession for a teenage girl. But then again she was, after all, a Butler.

'Problems, Juliet?'

Juliet straightened hurriedly. 'My own fault, Artemis. Apparently I left a gap in the curtains. Mrs Fowl couldn't sleep.'