Verbal Assault
Typed by M.A. Darkling
Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun.
Authoress' Note: Ehem . . . this may or may not be important, but if you read The Birdy, Chapter Seven will take a little while to come out, because I have stumbled upon a little thing I like to call The-Inability-To-Come- Out-With-Chapter-Seven-Because-I've-Only-Gotten-Two-Reviews-For-Chapter-Six- And-It-Does-Nothing-For-My-Writers'-Blonk. (No, that's not a typo. This isiiij.) Also. The Dagda has died, and Jenna has agreed to help me write it out. (See bio for details)
"Bitch-eyed, horny minx--!"
"Death to you, man-whore--!"
Garet's little sister, Jessica, winced as she heard them fighting outside.
"Grandfather!" she whined. "Make 'em stop!"
The Mayor of Vale sighed. He shook his head, paced a bit, and sighed again. "I'm sorry Jessi,"
he said apologetically. "It doesn't work that way."
"Bastard son of a llama--!"
"Corisande incarnate of hatred and misery--!"
"(Ooh, extra points for creativity.)"
The corner of Dora's mouth twitched.
Mechanically, she prepared dinner, a vague, foggy expression on her face. A thought crossed her mind. Why doesn't it work that way?
"Siren of eternal damnation!"
"Putrescent, dishonorable, deflowering, pithole of manhood--!"
Kraden looked up from his book, took off his glasses, then polished them. He put them back on. "The reason it doesn't work that way is because they _enjoy_ it."
"Whew! I'm beat."
"Yeah. Same here. Wanna go to my place for some dinner?"
"Sure."
Garet sighed. Apparently a family thing.
"Jenna, Isaac, you have _got_ to find a new hobby."
Typed by M.A. Darkling
Disclaimer: I do not own Golden Sun.
Authoress' Note: Ehem . . . this may or may not be important, but if you read The Birdy, Chapter Seven will take a little while to come out, because I have stumbled upon a little thing I like to call The-Inability-To-Come- Out-With-Chapter-Seven-Because-I've-Only-Gotten-Two-Reviews-For-Chapter-Six- And-It-Does-Nothing-For-My-Writers'-Blonk. (No, that's not a typo. This isiiij.) Also. The Dagda has died, and Jenna has agreed to help me write it out. (See bio for details)
"Bitch-eyed, horny minx--!"
"Death to you, man-whore--!"
Garet's little sister, Jessica, winced as she heard them fighting outside.
"Grandfather!" she whined. "Make 'em stop!"
The Mayor of Vale sighed. He shook his head, paced a bit, and sighed again. "I'm sorry Jessi,"
he said apologetically. "It doesn't work that way."
"Bastard son of a llama--!"
"Corisande incarnate of hatred and misery--!"
"(Ooh, extra points for creativity.)"
The corner of Dora's mouth twitched.
Mechanically, she prepared dinner, a vague, foggy expression on her face. A thought crossed her mind. Why doesn't it work that way?
"Siren of eternal damnation!"
"Putrescent, dishonorable, deflowering, pithole of manhood--!"
Kraden looked up from his book, took off his glasses, then polished them. He put them back on. "The reason it doesn't work that way is because they _enjoy_ it."
"Whew! I'm beat."
"Yeah. Same here. Wanna go to my place for some dinner?"
"Sure."
Garet sighed. Apparently a family thing.
"Jenna, Isaac, you have _got_ to find a new hobby."