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poppyapples) wrote2012-05-16 11:26 am
poppyapples) wrote2012-05-16 11:26 am
Entry tags:
≈ Drabbles - May 2012
Drabble requests from plurk! May be expanded on if I get more. Hint hint.
Saya and Aidan, Secrets
He no longer remembers when he first knew, and by now it no longer matters. It didn't matter much then either, that nagging, scratching sensation in the pit of his stomach that insistently told him something was wrong but never gave any clear answers. He tried so hard not to pry, and things like flashes of crimson and a sharp heirloom were willingly passed by, unremarked upon. She would tell him, right? She'd let him know. He trusted that, believed in it with every fiber of his being because that's what he does. Did. Wanted to do.
And now, when he really does know every grisly, gritty detail, he wishes he didn't. No, that's not true, he wishes that he was a better man because a better man would know what to do, and he doesn't. Instead he's left swallowing, chest heavy like it's been turned into a cast-iron kettle and each breath is threatening to choke him with pure helplessness. Uselessness, because he is nothing if not useless in the face of this bare, raw slice of truth. How much of this did he see? How much of it did he choose not to?
The silence is deafening against his ears, each small second ticking by with the weight of a decade and when he finally speaks his voice is surprisingly steady. Eyes dry, but not for lack of sorrow. It just doesn't feel right that he's the one crying when she's the one dying.
"Thank you… for tellin' me."
Hawkeye and Ness, talking about girls
"The best advice I can give you…" Hawkeye begins, pausing briefly to carefully adjust a chipped beaker on the rickety still-to-be. "…is to always make her feel appreciated. Not just her, come to think of it, but any girl you spend any considerable amount of time with--"
Another pause, interspersed with a frustrated grunt and an almost-curse as the rubber tubes and worn copper fittings won't quite do what he wants them to do.
"--and by considerable amount of time I mean anything more than a passing glance, of course. Actually, the passing glances probably count as well. Better safe than sorry, I always say, there's nothing more terrifying than a woman ignored. Let me tell you, you do not want to be the one responsible for not filling her dance card, if you know what I mean."
And like always around Ness, he means exactly what he says. Had this been Jackie or Ace or pretty much anyone over the age of 18, that would've been a lewd comment but with Ness it's always what it says on the tin. In fact, it may be even a little more than that and the look on his face when he finally turns towards the boy is one of contemplative nostalgia. Hawkeye Pierce, the great ladies' man, is not so arrogant that he can't admit to his faults (sometimes) and it's a fault he's admitting to right now, with a roguish grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Like always, a clever cover-up for more serious matters, but what harm can it really do?
"You should listen to this, buddy. This is Grade A advice, right here. Who knows what kind of mistakes I could've avoided if I only told myself this when I was your age?"
Garland twins, adventures in baking
It seemed like such a perfectly simple thing to do, not much harder than the algebra Lenny insisted on teaching them. In fact, in many ways it seemed a lot simpler - you had your measurements right there and the instructions and even a little picture of what the end result was supposed to look like. Anyone could do that, and the Garland wonder twins weren't just anyone - surely they'd be able to make something as simple as breadsticks with golden, crunchy crusts and a fluffy white center?
And so they set out with great determination and unbridled enthusiasm, carefully measuring and mixing and kneading under Lenny's watchful, yet silent eye (Johnny made him promise that he would only supervise so they didn't accidentally set fire to something, and so far he'd been true to his word). At first it really did seem as easy as the recipe claimed, but it didn't take long before a teaspoon was mistaken for a tablespoon and after that the whole adventure quickly went downhill in a flurry of flour and sticky dough that insisted on sticking to everything but itself.
Somehow (possibly through magic) they did manage to make something that could be passed off as breadsticks. By now Lenny was far too nervous to remain a passive bystander, and so the actual baking process passed by without any greater incident or burns. It didn't take long before the kitchen was filled with a delectable smell of… well. A smell. It wasn't a great smell and the finished breadsticks that came out of that smell 25 minutes later lived up to the hype. Small and crooked, a little burnt and misshapen… calling them bad might be an exaggeration, but they sure didn't look nearly as good as they had in the recipe photo and Johnny almost immediately made it his solemn duty to put the poor things out of their misery, and into a garbage bin.
Luckily - or perhaps unluckily - he didn't get very far before Grace snatched one of the alleged breadsticks off the baking tray, juggling the still-hot abomination in her hands in an attempt to let it cool off before finally taking a bite into it. She chewed and chewed and then when there was no more chewing to have, she bravely proclaimed that this was the best thing she'd ever eaten, as tears of utter terror began to form in her eyes.
Saya and Aidan, Secrets
He no longer remembers when he first knew, and by now it no longer matters. It didn't matter much then either, that nagging, scratching sensation in the pit of his stomach that insistently told him something was wrong but never gave any clear answers. He tried so hard not to pry, and things like flashes of crimson and a sharp heirloom were willingly passed by, unremarked upon. She would tell him, right? She'd let him know. He trusted that, believed in it with every fiber of his being because that's what he does. Did. Wanted to do.
And now, when he really does know every grisly, gritty detail, he wishes he didn't. No, that's not true, he wishes that he was a better man because a better man would know what to do, and he doesn't. Instead he's left swallowing, chest heavy like it's been turned into a cast-iron kettle and each breath is threatening to choke him with pure helplessness. Uselessness, because he is nothing if not useless in the face of this bare, raw slice of truth. How much of this did he see? How much of it did he choose not to?
The silence is deafening against his ears, each small second ticking by with the weight of a decade and when he finally speaks his voice is surprisingly steady. Eyes dry, but not for lack of sorrow. It just doesn't feel right that he's the one crying when she's the one dying.
"Thank you… for tellin' me."
Hawkeye and Ness, talking about girls
"The best advice I can give you…" Hawkeye begins, pausing briefly to carefully adjust a chipped beaker on the rickety still-to-be. "…is to always make her feel appreciated. Not just her, come to think of it, but any girl you spend any considerable amount of time with--"
Another pause, interspersed with a frustrated grunt and an almost-curse as the rubber tubes and worn copper fittings won't quite do what he wants them to do.
"--and by considerable amount of time I mean anything more than a passing glance, of course. Actually, the passing glances probably count as well. Better safe than sorry, I always say, there's nothing more terrifying than a woman ignored. Let me tell you, you do not want to be the one responsible for not filling her dance card, if you know what I mean."
And like always around Ness, he means exactly what he says. Had this been Jackie or Ace or pretty much anyone over the age of 18, that would've been a lewd comment but with Ness it's always what it says on the tin. In fact, it may be even a little more than that and the look on his face when he finally turns towards the boy is one of contemplative nostalgia. Hawkeye Pierce, the great ladies' man, is not so arrogant that he can't admit to his faults (sometimes) and it's a fault he's admitting to right now, with a roguish grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Like always, a clever cover-up for more serious matters, but what harm can it really do?
"You should listen to this, buddy. This is Grade A advice, right here. Who knows what kind of mistakes I could've avoided if I only told myself this when I was your age?"
Garland twins, adventures in baking
It seemed like such a perfectly simple thing to do, not much harder than the algebra Lenny insisted on teaching them. In fact, in many ways it seemed a lot simpler - you had your measurements right there and the instructions and even a little picture of what the end result was supposed to look like. Anyone could do that, and the Garland wonder twins weren't just anyone - surely they'd be able to make something as simple as breadsticks with golden, crunchy crusts and a fluffy white center?
And so they set out with great determination and unbridled enthusiasm, carefully measuring and mixing and kneading under Lenny's watchful, yet silent eye (Johnny made him promise that he would only supervise so they didn't accidentally set fire to something, and so far he'd been true to his word). At first it really did seem as easy as the recipe claimed, but it didn't take long before a teaspoon was mistaken for a tablespoon and after that the whole adventure quickly went downhill in a flurry of flour and sticky dough that insisted on sticking to everything but itself.
Somehow (possibly through magic) they did manage to make something that could be passed off as breadsticks. By now Lenny was far too nervous to remain a passive bystander, and so the actual baking process passed by without any greater incident or burns. It didn't take long before the kitchen was filled with a delectable smell of… well. A smell. It wasn't a great smell and the finished breadsticks that came out of that smell 25 minutes later lived up to the hype. Small and crooked, a little burnt and misshapen… calling them bad might be an exaggeration, but they sure didn't look nearly as good as they had in the recipe photo and Johnny almost immediately made it his solemn duty to put the poor things out of their misery, and into a garbage bin.
Luckily - or perhaps unluckily - he didn't get very far before Grace snatched one of the alleged breadsticks off the baking tray, juggling the still-hot abomination in her hands in an attempt to let it cool off before finally taking a bite into it. She chewed and chewed and then when there was no more chewing to have, she bravely proclaimed that this was the best thing she'd ever eaten, as tears of utter terror began to form in her eyes.