CHAPTER THREE
WHAT IS HER GIFT?
Sawyer was still reeling from the Britney-Beast. But he came toward Rahd'ni, and said softly, "Ah wish ah could say that ah love you, mah darling... but ah'm gay."
/Oh, newsflash.../
Fellauroralisterinavetta brushed her hair out her eyes, and turned to the floating coat that indicated Skinner. "Do you have something to tell me, Rodney?" she purred softly.
"Umm." The thief stammered, shifting 'is weight, looking uncertainly at the others. She already knew 'is past. Why did 'e feel the need to tell 'er 'is deepest, darkest, ugliest secret? Why did she pull on 'is 'eart so? Why did 'e love 'er at first sight?
"Because I'm a babe, silly," Fellauroralisterinavetta sighed inside Skinner's head, "Oh, and I can see you, by the way. My telekinesis."
He jumped a little. "Coh, blimey, luv, Oi dunno whoi Oi wanna tell you thees." He paused, taking a deep breath and running a hand over his invisible head. Fellauroralisterinavetta mirrored him, brushing a hand over her flaxen coppery hair.
"It's loike thees luv," he took a deep breath, preparing himself.
"Oi... Oi really loiked 'Gigli'," he finally muttered, then sank to his knees, holding himself in misery.
The League gasped and drew away in horror. All but Fellauroralisterinavetta. She moved to gracefully kneel beside the sweet thief, took him in her arms, and held him as he cried.
"Turkey toime... gobble gobble... it wuz poetry, luv!" Rodney sobbed, clinging to Fellauroralisterinavetta like she was a girl he wanted to cling to.
She stood and smiled gently at her friends. "My dear friends," she breathed wistfully, "There is nothing you can tell me that will shock me." She moved to stand before them. "I have been around a long time. And my past is even darker than yours."
Nemo stepped forward. "Please tell us everything about your past, no matter how difficult or improper it is for you, in this era, to be so personal with people, especially men, that you barely know."
The rest nodded, maintaining a silence partly out of respect and partly out of shock at her beauty. Fellauroralisterinavetta ran delicate gloved fingers through her glossy curls, took a deep breath, and began.
"It wasn't easy growing up as a red-headed Polynesian girl," she breathed. "When I was a child, I was shunned and hated for my abilities," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. She used her mind to lift a small statue of Khali off a pedestal in the corner, moved it across the room, but then the pain hit, and her beautiful face got all scrunchy, and the statue flew across the room and smashed against the wall.
"Oh!" She gasped, wavering. Every man in the room ran forward to offering her an arm as she held a hand to her brow. "Nemo, I'm sorry."
"No prob. Jehova's Witness, remember?"
She smiled prettily, and all the men felt their hearts flutter. She regained her prim and proper composure and continued her tale.
"My quiet submissive Japanese mother tragically fell to her death from a mountaintop while we were watching the aurora borealis, and my vodka drinking communist Russian father choked to death on Listerine, and my dear snobby hairy French sister was brutally murdered by a psychotic veterinarian." She broke off, holding one tiny, gloved hand to her beautiful red lips, then tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
"From that day forward, I knew my name had to be Fellauroralisterinavetta Aanjulle O'Bamfwryter."
"Aanjulle?" Tom repeated questioningly.
"Oh, and my dear hot-tempered Irish grandmother was horrifically impaled through the skull by the gold angel falling off the top of our Christmas tree. I was only a child at the time. I expect I shall never fully recover." She brushed a crystal tear from her ivory cheek, and gave a fluttery, bosom shuddering sigh that gave every man in the room a partial stiffie. She reached up and wound a loose curl under her hat.
"But, one must always put their past behind them and move on. It's the only way to heal. First you must face the pain, then conquer it. Carpe Diem, Cave Canem, E Pluribus Unum you know. Life sucks, and then you die." She sighed again, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Skinner eyed her. "Luv, ow come you know so much? Oi though you grew up on a farm?"
She smiled at him. "I just know things."
"Oh roight, of caws, luv," he replied, wondering why he had questioned her. "Aheheh."
The others were just in awe of her intelligence, charm and beauty.
Suddenly she gasped, hands flying to her temples. "Someone is coming!" she cried wispily, "I just... know it!"
********* End chappie 3! Read and review!
Sawyer was still reeling from the Britney-Beast. But he came toward Rahd'ni, and said softly, "Ah wish ah could say that ah love you, mah darling... but ah'm gay."
/Oh, newsflash.../
Fellauroralisterinavetta brushed her hair out her eyes, and turned to the floating coat that indicated Skinner. "Do you have something to tell me, Rodney?" she purred softly.
"Umm." The thief stammered, shifting 'is weight, looking uncertainly at the others. She already knew 'is past. Why did 'e feel the need to tell 'er 'is deepest, darkest, ugliest secret? Why did she pull on 'is 'eart so? Why did 'e love 'er at first sight?
"Because I'm a babe, silly," Fellauroralisterinavetta sighed inside Skinner's head, "Oh, and I can see you, by the way. My telekinesis."
He jumped a little. "Coh, blimey, luv, Oi dunno whoi Oi wanna tell you thees." He paused, taking a deep breath and running a hand over his invisible head. Fellauroralisterinavetta mirrored him, brushing a hand over her flaxen coppery hair.
"It's loike thees luv," he took a deep breath, preparing himself.
"Oi... Oi really loiked 'Gigli'," he finally muttered, then sank to his knees, holding himself in misery.
The League gasped and drew away in horror. All but Fellauroralisterinavetta. She moved to gracefully kneel beside the sweet thief, took him in her arms, and held him as he cried.
"Turkey toime... gobble gobble... it wuz poetry, luv!" Rodney sobbed, clinging to Fellauroralisterinavetta like she was a girl he wanted to cling to.
She stood and smiled gently at her friends. "My dear friends," she breathed wistfully, "There is nothing you can tell me that will shock me." She moved to stand before them. "I have been around a long time. And my past is even darker than yours."
Nemo stepped forward. "Please tell us everything about your past, no matter how difficult or improper it is for you, in this era, to be so personal with people, especially men, that you barely know."
The rest nodded, maintaining a silence partly out of respect and partly out of shock at her beauty. Fellauroralisterinavetta ran delicate gloved fingers through her glossy curls, took a deep breath, and began.
"It wasn't easy growing up as a red-headed Polynesian girl," she breathed. "When I was a child, I was shunned and hated for my abilities," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. She used her mind to lift a small statue of Khali off a pedestal in the corner, moved it across the room, but then the pain hit, and her beautiful face got all scrunchy, and the statue flew across the room and smashed against the wall.
"Oh!" She gasped, wavering. Every man in the room ran forward to offering her an arm as she held a hand to her brow. "Nemo, I'm sorry."
"No prob. Jehova's Witness, remember?"
She smiled prettily, and all the men felt their hearts flutter. She regained her prim and proper composure and continued her tale.
"My quiet submissive Japanese mother tragically fell to her death from a mountaintop while we were watching the aurora borealis, and my vodka drinking communist Russian father choked to death on Listerine, and my dear snobby hairy French sister was brutally murdered by a psychotic veterinarian." She broke off, holding one tiny, gloved hand to her beautiful red lips, then tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
"From that day forward, I knew my name had to be Fellauroralisterinavetta Aanjulle O'Bamfwryter."
"Aanjulle?" Tom repeated questioningly.
"Oh, and my dear hot-tempered Irish grandmother was horrifically impaled through the skull by the gold angel falling off the top of our Christmas tree. I was only a child at the time. I expect I shall never fully recover." She brushed a crystal tear from her ivory cheek, and gave a fluttery, bosom shuddering sigh that gave every man in the room a partial stiffie. She reached up and wound a loose curl under her hat.
"But, one must always put their past behind them and move on. It's the only way to heal. First you must face the pain, then conquer it. Carpe Diem, Cave Canem, E Pluribus Unum you know. Life sucks, and then you die." She sighed again, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
Skinner eyed her. "Luv, ow come you know so much? Oi though you grew up on a farm?"
She smiled at him. "I just know things."
"Oh roight, of caws, luv," he replied, wondering why he had questioned her. "Aheheh."
The others were just in awe of her intelligence, charm and beauty.
Suddenly she gasped, hands flying to her temples. "Someone is coming!" she cried wispily, "I just... know it!"
********* End chappie 3! Read and review!
