Disclaimer: These people belong to their creators, not to me.
Warnings for intimations of torture and the wholesale slaughter of chickens.
_|88:88 88|_
Timesheet
by Nightfall
part two
_|88:88 88|_
_|5:02 AM|_
Damn. All. Chickens.
_|5:25 AM|_
It's not that I don't appreciate having my cell far away from the feeding arena. It's not that I don't understand the no-shortcuts-before-breakfast rule. I know drawing on her power disturbs her. I don't want to disturb her. She needs her sleep. So I'm not complaining about not being able to teleport in the morning. I just wish these corridors weren't so long. I've only got twenty minutes or so to deal with breakfast now.
It is nice to have a few minutes to myself before everyone wakes up. I'll grant that. Thank Master for my staff, that's all I can say. Especially on cold, damp mornings like today, when the wet seeps in between the stones and plays havoc with my leg. Stupid wound.
Oh, the trouble I would be in if anyone knew about that! It'd be time for everyone's favorite game, 'Let's gang up on the gimp-demon!' Yay! My favorite!
Fortunately, a little wink, a little 'come into my parlor,' and they don't look past the sashay. Nice sashay. Nice masking sashay. Nice propping-up weight-taking staff.
Damn. Fifteen minutes. Damn damp. Damn leg.
_|5:45 AM|_
Ah. Nothing like a young, sentient female from a culture with notions of chivalry and honor hog-tied, gagged, and abandoned in the corner for a beautiful breakfast of anticipatory terror. It's not at the level I'm used to, though. It must be getting around the dungeons that I haven't been doing anything to them recently. That won't do: this has to last me all day! I'd better do something to her.
But no, tomorrow's going to be even busier than today. I'd better be extra- silly, and then tomorrow morning I can get in a good helping of betrayal with my fear. Yum.
We're vampires, really. It's all a little sordid and distasteful, when you get right down to it. But there you are. No race can help its nutritional requirements. A demon's got to eat, just the same as anyone else.
Silly-cute. That shouldn't be hard. It's my stock-in-trade, after all. But I think I'm in a good mood, so maybe I'll do something special, something a little different.. There's nothing like breakfast in bed over a good book to lift your spirits.
Well, okay, over bed. I'm fully clad, wide awake, and not under the covers, and this particular book--or at least, the essay I'm reading in it at the moment--is a discourse on the life-history of the liver fluke. Most people would probably say it's pretty dull stuff. But what can I say? I'm an easy target for inspiration. And there's so much one can do with intracorporeal organisms.
People think beasts are all four-legged creatures. But bacteria and dragonflies are as much in Master's purview and mine as wolves are. It's amazing how many people forget things like that. It's only fish I have no mastery of. And probably viruses; I think those belong to Phibrizzo. Or maybe Dynast. But the carriers are all alive, so it doesn't much matter.
Speaking of things that are alive...
"I hope you're comfortable, dear lady."
"Mphrll mmphymph, ru mpher!"
"Tsk! Tsk! Such language! Oh, but I think I can understand that. These ropes are terribly course, aren't they. Such a trial for such delicate skin."
"Uzzuwtllklluallsmdeh! Zffadn! "
"Now, now, calm yourself, Such an excitable little thing you are. So terribly worked up. You must be dreadfully anxious. Let's see what we can do about that, hm?"
It's really amazing how talking like someone out of a bad romance novel can get some of these chicks' guards down. Even if you talk like the villain. It's because they suddenly think they know what to expect. Well, child, let your guard down around me, and you deserve every single thing you have coming to you. You know who I am.
"Fido!"
Thump thwump thumpity thump thump. Swish, swish. "Pant, pant, rrrn?"
"Now, my dear, this is Fido. He's quite a relatively gentle wolf."
Relatively being the operative word.
"I'm everlastingly sorry, but I'm afraid I must forfeit your delightful company soon for the trials of my duty."
No kidding.
"Fido, this girl has been such good company to me that I would like to reward her. Do you understand?"
"Pant, pant."
"Good wolf. Now, drag one of the plucked and deboned chickens--NOT the feathery ones, do you understand? One of the prepared chickens through the fire for a while, and stop before it gets black. Then bring it to her in the dungeon. Take scent."
"Snrfl drool."
"GOOOOD doggie! And now, dear, I must let you take your leave." Snap!
Okay, she didn't quite buy that. Must have been over the top. That's all right, smug outrage or even skeptical cynicism will do in a pinch, if I can't have outright betrayal. Maybe she'll change her mind when the chicken gets there. Still, I've got to work on toning it down.
"Fetch and rescue, Fido. And don't drag it in the dirt this time."
"Yip!" Scurry.
Now, there goes a pathetic excuse for a wolf.
[end part two]
Warnings for intimations of torture and the wholesale slaughter of chickens.
_|88:88 88|_
Timesheet
by Nightfall
part two
_|88:88 88|_
_|5:02 AM|_
Damn. All. Chickens.
_|5:25 AM|_
It's not that I don't appreciate having my cell far away from the feeding arena. It's not that I don't understand the no-shortcuts-before-breakfast rule. I know drawing on her power disturbs her. I don't want to disturb her. She needs her sleep. So I'm not complaining about not being able to teleport in the morning. I just wish these corridors weren't so long. I've only got twenty minutes or so to deal with breakfast now.
It is nice to have a few minutes to myself before everyone wakes up. I'll grant that. Thank Master for my staff, that's all I can say. Especially on cold, damp mornings like today, when the wet seeps in between the stones and plays havoc with my leg. Stupid wound.
Oh, the trouble I would be in if anyone knew about that! It'd be time for everyone's favorite game, 'Let's gang up on the gimp-demon!' Yay! My favorite!
Fortunately, a little wink, a little 'come into my parlor,' and they don't look past the sashay. Nice sashay. Nice masking sashay. Nice propping-up weight-taking staff.
Damn. Fifteen minutes. Damn damp. Damn leg.
_|5:45 AM|_
Ah. Nothing like a young, sentient female from a culture with notions of chivalry and honor hog-tied, gagged, and abandoned in the corner for a beautiful breakfast of anticipatory terror. It's not at the level I'm used to, though. It must be getting around the dungeons that I haven't been doing anything to them recently. That won't do: this has to last me all day! I'd better do something to her.
But no, tomorrow's going to be even busier than today. I'd better be extra- silly, and then tomorrow morning I can get in a good helping of betrayal with my fear. Yum.
We're vampires, really. It's all a little sordid and distasteful, when you get right down to it. But there you are. No race can help its nutritional requirements. A demon's got to eat, just the same as anyone else.
Silly-cute. That shouldn't be hard. It's my stock-in-trade, after all. But I think I'm in a good mood, so maybe I'll do something special, something a little different.. There's nothing like breakfast in bed over a good book to lift your spirits.
Well, okay, over bed. I'm fully clad, wide awake, and not under the covers, and this particular book--or at least, the essay I'm reading in it at the moment--is a discourse on the life-history of the liver fluke. Most people would probably say it's pretty dull stuff. But what can I say? I'm an easy target for inspiration. And there's so much one can do with intracorporeal organisms.
People think beasts are all four-legged creatures. But bacteria and dragonflies are as much in Master's purview and mine as wolves are. It's amazing how many people forget things like that. It's only fish I have no mastery of. And probably viruses; I think those belong to Phibrizzo. Or maybe Dynast. But the carriers are all alive, so it doesn't much matter.
Speaking of things that are alive...
"I hope you're comfortable, dear lady."
"Mphrll mmphymph, ru mpher!"
"Tsk! Tsk! Such language! Oh, but I think I can understand that. These ropes are terribly course, aren't they. Such a trial for such delicate skin."
"Uzzuwtllklluallsmdeh! Zffadn! "
"Now, now, calm yourself, Such an excitable little thing you are. So terribly worked up. You must be dreadfully anxious. Let's see what we can do about that, hm?"
It's really amazing how talking like someone out of a bad romance novel can get some of these chicks' guards down. Even if you talk like the villain. It's because they suddenly think they know what to expect. Well, child, let your guard down around me, and you deserve every single thing you have coming to you. You know who I am.
"Fido!"
Thump thwump thumpity thump thump. Swish, swish. "Pant, pant, rrrn?"
"Now, my dear, this is Fido. He's quite a relatively gentle wolf."
Relatively being the operative word.
"I'm everlastingly sorry, but I'm afraid I must forfeit your delightful company soon for the trials of my duty."
No kidding.
"Fido, this girl has been such good company to me that I would like to reward her. Do you understand?"
"Pant, pant."
"Good wolf. Now, drag one of the plucked and deboned chickens--NOT the feathery ones, do you understand? One of the prepared chickens through the fire for a while, and stop before it gets black. Then bring it to her in the dungeon. Take scent."
"Snrfl drool."
"GOOOOD doggie! And now, dear, I must let you take your leave." Snap!
Okay, she didn't quite buy that. Must have been over the top. That's all right, smug outrage or even skeptical cynicism will do in a pinch, if I can't have outright betrayal. Maybe she'll change her mind when the chicken gets there. Still, I've got to work on toning it down.
"Fetch and rescue, Fido. And don't drag it in the dirt this time."
"Yip!" Scurry.
Now, there goes a pathetic excuse for a wolf.
[end part two]