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Literature Text
~ A Little Break ~
by Lady Scale
I raised my head from looking at the pages inscribed with ancient texts and runes to curiously inspect the face before me, only briefly wondering if I had actually heard the question casually passed over my head. The eyebrows quirked, anxiously waiting for an answer.
“No.”
“Aww, come on!”
“No.” I said more firmly, opting to vote that the number of cattle the ancient Aztecs had to sacrifice to Quetzalcoatl every few years is more interesting than the current offer. Focusing on the paper, I tried to ignore the great mass of red currently towering a few feet away.
He wasn’t leaving. He can feel that, but still he silently begged to himself he would. Several minutes and he was still not gone. Instead he shifted his weight on one foot and lightly tapped the adjacent wood desk.
*Tap-tap*
Hmm. So they would coat the cattle in orange paint made from terracotta earth and decorate them with flowers-
*Tap-tap-tap*
-Ahem. And one of the ritualists would place a mandrake root in a bowl of fresh milk. Hmm, how interes-
*Tappity-tappity-tap*
There it goes again. As I tried to edge out the sudden feeling of déjà vu I got from the last paragraph and moved on the actual number of cows. Two cows at dawn when the sun aligns with one of the columns, four cows for-
*Tap-Tappity*
Twenty-seven cows in the pit, twenty-seven painted cows! If they drop one more, twenty-eight cows, twenty-eight painted cows in the pit!
*Tap-tap-tap*
It was surprising that his patience even lasted this long. Normally he would have left on the third try, assuming the desk didn’t suddenly take several devours towards the walls and floors…
On the Thirty-oneth try, I looked back at him as if he was some kind of apparition.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Red?”
“What do ‘ya mean?” He fainted innocence.
“The lack of splintered wood and mess of papers is one clue.”
“Well? Are you or not?”
My respirator bubbled. Oh. Of course. There was no doubt left in my mind now that he wasn’t going to go. If there was one thing I know, is if Red had enough motivation, he would go to Alaska and back to do it.
Meyers coming back to the bureau one night with a bruise on the side of his head was proof of it.
He had strong motivation, he had a surprisingly good reason, I’ll admit, and some part of me warmed at the hidden meaning. He was concerned for my well-being and it reminded me why I appreciated our friendship so much. Red is a very good friend, brother even, and he meant well, but my motive weighed the scales even more.
The consequences of not finishing on time were it. Hasn’t he thought of this variable? On quick peek and- yeah. He hadn’t thought of it all the way through.
“No, Hellboy. You can try as many times as you like, I know you will crack eventually. …Or the door first, depends, so don’t even bother.
“Come on, Abe? Manny’s breaking your back now! That’s the 4rth report this week you had to fill! Have a break! You’ve been at it for 6 hours by now!”
As much as my spine and ribs begged me to admit, the impending and dreadfully ear-filling lecture from Manning was enough to keep me on my webbed toes. Not to mention that I would be shameful of even breathing, lungs or otherwise, by the time he’s done. In comparison with Red, who was used to them, such lectures directed at me were few and far in between and stung like lemon salt.
“Listen. If I don’t have this done by tomorrow evening, he’ll have my head! And I don’t know if I would be able to hold my tongue and not let your name slip into the conversation, getting us both in-“
He suddenly reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small plastic bag.
Oh my.
Upon seeing it, memories, remembrance of other bags such as that flooded not only my head but into my mouth and tingled the inside of my cheeks. Oh yes. I could never forget those… they stuck into my mind since the first time I’ve come across them.
Right now I don’t know whether I should be more surprised that I’m actually starting to consider it, or that I was so focused on getting him to leave, that I didn’t even register its presence.
I looked back up at the mischievous amber eyes. Red jiggled the plastic bag in front of me teasingly. Another shockwave through my mouth, going down and up my spine again to bubble into my respirator and I was done.
Swiping the bag and clutching it, I said “Maybe I could use a little break…” He left with a smirk on his face, and slowly I leaned back in the chair. Tardily I opened the bag and took a big whiff.
Ahhh… that aroma… oh ravishing black raspberry… luscious lemon… palate-pleasing pineapple… scrumptious strawberry… glorious green apple…
I popped one of the deliciously chewy gems into my mouth and savored it.
Oh my favorite snack second to Century Eggs…
How I loved Gummy Worms…
by Lady Scale
I raised my head from looking at the pages inscribed with ancient texts and runes to curiously inspect the face before me, only briefly wondering if I had actually heard the question casually passed over my head. The eyebrows quirked, anxiously waiting for an answer.
“No.”
“Aww, come on!”
“No.” I said more firmly, opting to vote that the number of cattle the ancient Aztecs had to sacrifice to Quetzalcoatl every few years is more interesting than the current offer. Focusing on the paper, I tried to ignore the great mass of red currently towering a few feet away.
He wasn’t leaving. He can feel that, but still he silently begged to himself he would. Several minutes and he was still not gone. Instead he shifted his weight on one foot and lightly tapped the adjacent wood desk.
*Tap-tap*
Hmm. So they would coat the cattle in orange paint made from terracotta earth and decorate them with flowers-
*Tap-tap-tap*
-Ahem. And one of the ritualists would place a mandrake root in a bowl of fresh milk. Hmm, how interes-
*Tappity-tappity-tap*
There it goes again. As I tried to edge out the sudden feeling of déjà vu I got from the last paragraph and moved on the actual number of cows. Two cows at dawn when the sun aligns with one of the columns, four cows for-
*Tap-Tappity*
Twenty-seven cows in the pit, twenty-seven painted cows! If they drop one more, twenty-eight cows, twenty-eight painted cows in the pit!
*Tap-tap-tap*
It was surprising that his patience even lasted this long. Normally he would have left on the third try, assuming the desk didn’t suddenly take several devours towards the walls and floors…
On the Thirty-oneth try, I looked back at him as if he was some kind of apparition.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Red?”
“What do ‘ya mean?” He fainted innocence.
“The lack of splintered wood and mess of papers is one clue.”
“Well? Are you or not?”
My respirator bubbled. Oh. Of course. There was no doubt left in my mind now that he wasn’t going to go. If there was one thing I know, is if Red had enough motivation, he would go to Alaska and back to do it.
Meyers coming back to the bureau one night with a bruise on the side of his head was proof of it.
He had strong motivation, he had a surprisingly good reason, I’ll admit, and some part of me warmed at the hidden meaning. He was concerned for my well-being and it reminded me why I appreciated our friendship so much. Red is a very good friend, brother even, and he meant well, but my motive weighed the scales even more.
The consequences of not finishing on time were it. Hasn’t he thought of this variable? On quick peek and- yeah. He hadn’t thought of it all the way through.
“No, Hellboy. You can try as many times as you like, I know you will crack eventually. …Or the door first, depends, so don’t even bother.
“Come on, Abe? Manny’s breaking your back now! That’s the 4rth report this week you had to fill! Have a break! You’ve been at it for 6 hours by now!”
As much as my spine and ribs begged me to admit, the impending and dreadfully ear-filling lecture from Manning was enough to keep me on my webbed toes. Not to mention that I would be shameful of even breathing, lungs or otherwise, by the time he’s done. In comparison with Red, who was used to them, such lectures directed at me were few and far in between and stung like lemon salt.
“Listen. If I don’t have this done by tomorrow evening, he’ll have my head! And I don’t know if I would be able to hold my tongue and not let your name slip into the conversation, getting us both in-“
He suddenly reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small plastic bag.
Oh my.
Upon seeing it, memories, remembrance of other bags such as that flooded not only my head but into my mouth and tingled the inside of my cheeks. Oh yes. I could never forget those… they stuck into my mind since the first time I’ve come across them.
Right now I don’t know whether I should be more surprised that I’m actually starting to consider it, or that I was so focused on getting him to leave, that I didn’t even register its presence.
I looked back up at the mischievous amber eyes. Red jiggled the plastic bag in front of me teasingly. Another shockwave through my mouth, going down and up my spine again to bubble into my respirator and I was done.
Swiping the bag and clutching it, I said “Maybe I could use a little break…” He left with a smirk on his face, and slowly I leaned back in the chair. Tardily I opened the bag and took a big whiff.
Ahhh… that aroma… oh ravishing black raspberry… luscious lemon… palate-pleasing pineapple… scrumptious strawberry… glorious green apple…
I popped one of the deliciously chewy gems into my mouth and savored it.
Oh my favorite snack second to Century Eggs…
How I loved Gummy Worms…
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A silly little Abe Sapien drabble. ^_^ And the first little fic I've wrote in a LOOONG tine! @_@
Now did anyone notice the subliminal actor joke in there? Huh? Huh?
Now did anyone notice the subliminal actor joke in there? Huh? Huh?
© 2008 - 2024 LadyScale
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lol