Man, I listened to a lot of Disturbed while working on this story. Well, can you blame me? Listen to Down With The Sickness and you'll be hooked! Uncensored, mind you. Your mind will get a nice, warping treat!
"YOU STUPID ABUSIVE SADISTIC F***ING WHORE! WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE HOW IT FEELS, MOMMIE! HERE IT COMES, GET READY TO DIE!" Isn't Disturbed wonderful? I tend to do better writing violence when listening to them, wonder why. =)
Written by Omega (Omega88, Ome-chan). This is an Escaflowne fic, I do not own Escaflowne or the characters, blah blah, you know the drill. But I did make up the plot for this fic and wrote it. So enjoy! Don't use with my permission.
This is mainly a story about Migel. =) I just love that guy! (I can't get Down With the Sickness and Violence Fetish out of my head.....)
It was a day like normal in the Zaibachian empire, which means as follows:
It was dark except on the decks in their glorious floating fortress, a bunch of Meliefs were training, and the leader of the Dragon Slayers was waking up in his permanent bad mood.
But there was something slightly different today. Dilandau had had too much Vino the night before and was suffering from an intense, pounding hangover from it.
Folken stood before him; apparently he'd been protecting the young lad all night. He looked tired and was drumming the fingers of his claw on the bedside table.
Dilandau sat up groggily and moaned in pain. The room spun around him; he had one hell of a hangover. He held his head in his hands; the pounding wouldn't stop. "Stratigoes! Get me some coffee!"
Folken yawned and then said, "I'm higher class than you. Get a Dragon Slayer to do it." Then he left the room.
Dilandau sighed; it hurt to move, but he lifted his head up and hollered loudly, "MIGEL!"
Migel hurried in and dropped on his knee at his leader's bedside. "Yes? What may I do for-"
He was stopped by a hearty slap to his cheek. "Stop your blabbing, Migel, and get me some coffee!"
Migel arose, nodded, and walked off.
Being that Gaea has no coffee machines, he had to make his coffee the hard way. The hard way means getting a bowl and hand-grinding coffee beans into grounds using the hilt of his sword, and then finding some miracle way to filter water through the grinds to make the drink. Then he still had to fix it however Dilandau liked it, or get punishment.
Gatti grinned watching his fellow Dragon Slayer grinding a bowl of strong-smelling coffee. Migel looked very bored; it was a long process, he'd been working for about five minutes to grind the grounds to their current state. "What are you doing, Migel? "
"Making the master some coffee. So shut your lilly trap." Migel replied.
"How does the master like his coffee?"
"I don't know, but I hope this works...."
And Migel marched into his master's room about ten minutes later with a mug full of coffee that had taken him roughly 40 minutes to brew up. He handed it to Dilandau and forced a grin and said, "Here's your coffee, sir."
Dilandau put one of his pale hands to his forehead as he sat up. The headache still pounded. He lifted the cup to his lips and poured a small sip into his mouth and swallowed. He shut his red eyes and said, "Come closer, Migel."
Migel edged cautiously to Dilandau's beside. "What, sir? Do you like it?"
"IT'S TOO HOT!" Dilandau cried, splashing the whole contents of the cup across Migel's face. Apparently it was too hot, because Migel had to put a lot of effort into not screaming out in pain as it burned away at his flesh and dripped down his skin; but he did end up dropping to his knees and moaning painfully as he gripped his cheeks, trying to soothe the pain. "I suggest that if you don't want more punishment you be a good little servant and try again."
Somehow Migel managed to let out a "Yes, sir." and stand up, and to walk otherwise wordlessly from the room.
By this time, Ghesta and Guimel had come to stare at Migel as he went on his second go of coffeemaking. He had scald wounds on his face now, red ones on his cheeks. They must've hurt because he swore silently to himself whenever anything, even his hair , touched the wound. "What was wrong with the coffee?" Guimel asked, nibbling on a rose.
"It was too damn hot!" Migel snapped at him. "Isn't it obvious! I wouldn't be burned if it weren't! If the coffee weren't hot, I wouldn't be burnt! I wouldn't be in unending pain! I wouldn't have to make another damn cup of coffee!"
"Well, how are you going to make it this time?" Ghesta asked.
"I have no idea...." Migel said. "I'll just give it to him as it comes out; I won't do anything special to it this time. But," he responded. He paused a moment. "I think I'll let it cool first."
Migel slowly marched into Dilandau's room with a cup of coffee that had taken him another rough 40 minutes to make. That master looked really ticked off; he wanted his coffee, and bad for his hangover.
"Here's your second cup of coffee, Lord Dilandau." Migel said as her handed Dilandau the new cup of coffee. Dilandau sneered at him.
"Took you long enough, Migel. Well, at least it didn't take you too long." he said snidely. He took a gulp of it and cringed. "This is decaf, pissant!" he yelled, throwing yet another cup of coffee into Migel's face. This one was just annoying since Migel had taken care to make sure it wouldn't turn out hot lot the other one; he brushed the lukewarm coffee off his face with his quickly dampening gloves. His spirit and morale was quickly being crushed, but being the loyal person he was, he gritted his teeth and bared it. He also gritted his teeth because when he brushed the coffee off his face, the previous burns on his face stung him and he whimpered like a puppy. "Try again, Migel. I'll be waiting."
Migel was starting to get fed up with this tedious task. Now four more had come by to watch his fellow Dragon Slayer toil.
Migel was starting to hate coffee. He really hated coffee. He wished there was an alternative to coffee that somebody hadn't discovered yet that he could go out and discover just so that he wouldn't have to keep on making all this coffee.
"What was wrong with the last one?" Violé sighed.
"It was a hellacious brew of decaf, the most psychotic evil brew in the history of existance...." Migel rambled weakly. He didn't care anymore. He was going to do this cup a bit differently, he was going to add a special stuff to it.
"Here's your coffee, sir." Migel said. He hated even the word 'coffee'. He wanted to murder whoever had discovered that coffee was edible.
He watched hopefully as Dilandau took a drink of this mug. "There's hazelnut in this!" he proceeded to yell. Dilandau dumped half of the cup out onto Migel's Dragon Slayer's uniform, and poured the rest of it out at Migel's feet. Migel watched almost in horror as the coffee flowed in a puddle on the floor, wasted. He shed a few silent tears over his hard worked coffee.
"I suppose I'll go try again, master," Migel choked out painfully. Dilandau would have nodded except of the hangover that was hurting his head. The pain still hadn't left.
That was one hour and five more cups of coffee ago.
Whispers went up around the group of Dragon Slayers. Migel was a broken man right now. The hilt of his sword was coated in caked up coffee grounds; he looked very very pissed off.
"What was wrong with the last cup?" one whispered.
"I heard it had Irish Creme in it." another replied.
The other Dragon Slayers were having fun keeping track of what Migel had done wrong each time:
1.Too hot.
2.It was decaf.
3.Had hazelnut.
4.It was too creamy.
5.It was too bitter.
6.It was syrupy.
7.It was too sweet.
and the topper, the favorite among the group:
8.Migel had forgotten to address Dilandau as "Sir" when he handed him the mug.
Migel was determined to make this the last cup he had to make. And he intended it to be the last cup he'd make in a very, very, very, long time.
"Migel, there's more coffee in your uniform than in that cup." Dallet teased.
"Migel, he's probably out of his hangover by now; might as well give up." Guimel added.
Migel snarled at them like a wild animal and took off for Dilandau's room again with the cup of coffee.
He wasn't sure what he'd done with this cup of coffee. He had just made it; he was so frustrated he couldn't see straight. Literally. He ran into the door frame on the way into the room, nearly spilling the ninth cup of hard-made sweat-and-blood worked coffee. He shoved it in front of his pale leader, who took it. Dilandau sipped at it, then gratefully drank the whole glass down, then chucked the cup across the room, shattering it against the wall. He grinned, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Migel had a feeling of satisfaction; he'd resisted the urge to say screw with loyalty and strangle his boss half to death, and he made the perfect cup of coffee (perfect by Dilandau's specifications, anyways).
He went off to relax. He pulled off his coffee-soaked uniform and then collapsed into the comfortable bed reserved for him in the Dragon Slayers quarters and took a catnap.
He was awakened later by the sound of the other Dragon Slayers chit-chatting. He looked around the room and noticed all eyes were on him. He'd temporarily forgotten about that vile demon word, coffee.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked. He slipped into his spare uniform, being that the other one was still drenching in the demon-liquid whose name he'd rather not think about.
"I just wish to warn you." Violé said timidly. "The master has been drinking some more Vino.... do you think you can make some more coffee?
Migel's eyes narrowed and he chuckled. He chuckled madly. He soon was laughing loudly, while the others stared, creeped out, at him. He then suddenly stopped, and then nodded, then simply said, "Here's your coffee, sir!"
The End
Okay, that was a bit sadistic, wasn't it? Okay, then....