"First there was this explosion... Then everything tasted like citrus, like tangerines. Next thing I know, I had no idea where I was."
Nick Fabre wasn't too sure where he was anymore. He had woken up in a small windowless room that he was fairly certain he hadn't fallen asleep in. There seemed to be only one explanation for this sudden transfer of locations: Aliens.
Or possibly the government.
Or maybe pixies.
He quickly scanned the room for any small, winged creatures, but only found a small, non-winged envelope instead.
Though he felt pressed to know what was happening to him, and what might be in the envelope, he made no hurry to open it. He opened the envelope with care and attention to safety, after all, he didn't want to get a paper cut, especially if he didn't know if he had access to disinfectant.
Nick lifted the envelopes flap, and drew out it's only content, a small card with a simple sentence neatly written in blue ink:
PUT YOUR HANDS UP.
Once again, Nick's mind was rushing. He was wondering about why he was here, where ever here even was and then about who wrote the letter and why. Would they even know if he bothered to life his hands up? and boy was their hand writing neat.
There wasn't much time for Nick to continue admiring the note's calligraphy, as the door creaked open slightly, and a voice shouted, in a mildly threatening voice, "It said 'PUT YOUR HANDS UP.'" Which Nick knew, since he had just been reading the note.
"He said hands up in the air!" a different, decidedly more threatening, voice barked at him.
Almost instantly, Nick's hands were thrown up into the hair.
"They're up! They're up!" Nick called out, as though begging for his life. He was begining to hope this was some sort of crazy dream, but then worried about what this meant for his psyche.
"Okay, now wave them."
"Are you... caring?"
Nick stopped waving, starting to feel more confused than he already was. "Sorry, what?"
"You know, like that song... no? Nevermind then."
"Who are yooooouuuuuuuuu?" The sentence started out as a panicked jumble but then rearranged itself into a quizzical request.
At this point, the door threw itself open dramatically, revealing three shapes of various different heights and hairstyles standing in a V formation.
"Who are we?" said the middle voice, who Nick instantly recognized as Midly Threatening, "We are... us."
Nick was surpised to see that none of the figures before him seemed remotely pixie-like, except for maybe their hair, although it didn't stop him from thinking they were probably dangerous and potentially wanted to eat him.
"Aaaaaaaaaahh?" Nick asked. He was sure screaming was the proper reaction to things that wanted to probably eat him, but he still wasn't sure who "us" was.
From the look on it, "us" was nothing more than a couple of other kids, though they may have easily well have been disgusing themselves through magical means.
The smallest of the three stood on the very left of the V formation. It was decidedly ambiguously gendered, with dark puffy ambiguously gendered hair with orange highlighted bangs. It's build was slim, and could almost be described as petite, yet it still somehow managed to maintain ambiguity. A masculine baggy long sleeve shirt decorated its torso in a masculine fashion, but was ambiguously balanced by a pair of black orange trimmed shorts which had an oddly feminine quality to them. To top it all off, the figure's face was covered by what appeared to be a gas mask, which simply made it look all the more... ambiguous.
To the very right of the V formation, Nick's eyes were caught by a boy with a shock of bright pink hair, spiked upwards in a loud, yet ridiculous do. The owner of this hair stared at Nick with a face that could only be described as all encompassingly narrow. His narrow eyes bore through Nick harshly, framed rather critically by narrow black eyebrows, which didn't match the owner's hair. His narrow nose crumpled upwards as his narrow mouth struggled to decide whether to sneer or smile. The boy's narrow face fit oddly on the broad shouldered body it belonged to, looking as though it had not quite grown on properly. The boy was dressed like the Rebellious Punks Nick often saw on television and sometimes in front of his school, smoking.
Finally, Nick's eyes rested on the figure at the very centre, who was standing quite confidently. Confident Middle appeared to be male - although with pixies, it's always hard to tell - and had thick round eyebrows and thick round eyes that, in their wideness, seemed to suggest a certain mental imbalance to Nick. Confident Middle was dressed smartly in comparison to his companions, wearing a dark blue tie and a slate cardigan over a clean white dress shirt. Confident Middle's hair appeared to be just as noteable as his companion Pink Rebel. At the front, his hair was neatly pushed to the side of his face, framing it nicely. At the back, it exploded into a sort of complex hairy starburst. Also, his hair was blue.
Nick wondered if the unnatural hair colours were a pixie genetic trait, and therefore natural to them.
"Are you pixies?" Nick asked, checking to see if his theory was true.
"So much for awesome powers of percepti-ow!" Pink Rebel snorted, only to be silenced by a short jab at the side by Masked Ambiguous.
"Hmmm? No, not pixies," Confident Middle smiled, seemingly unphased.
"Oh..." Nick looked at the three figures anxiously, feeling less comforted by the increasing possibility that they were humans than he had expected. Sometimes, the scariest thing is when reality mixes with imagination.