It was the last time she asked Eden for directions to a culinary shop.
As she walked along the aisles, Aria started to get the feeling that she was in a place she really shouldn't be. Bathed in bright pink neon light that she had thought, at first, had been meant to try and help bring younger girls into the world of cooking, she furtively glanced side to side, looking for utensils she might be at least slightly familiar with--a ladel, a sauce pan, even some good forks. She wasn't entirely certain whips could be used for stirring cookie batter, and, well, she wasn't entirely certain aprons came with feathers.
"You lookin' for somethin' for someone special, luv?" a shopkeeper with excessive eye makeup rounded the corner onto Aria. The redhead shrunk back slightly, feeling a little too much like a fish out of water for comfort.
"I...ah, no, it's for me."
The shopkeeper smiled, secretive, knowing. It made Aria uncomfortable. "Well then, ye'll want that wall display over there. I think ye'll find just what ye need."
She thanked the shopkeeper and shuffled away in the direction she indicated, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons. An older man that had been looking through some books made a strange little noise as she walked by, before hurrying away in the opposite direction. She stopped dead in front of the display, confusion running rampant across her face. As she picked up one of the boxes, she accidentially hit the 'try me!' button, causing the strange, oblong shape to buzz wildly. Taken off guard, Aria squeaked in surprise.
((It's been a while since I've read Hitchhiker's Guide, but I'll see how far I get! <3 ))
Nothing made sense anymore. Just a couple of days ago, Will was sitting in his cozy little house, drinking tea, and everything was quite right in the world. There was no such thing as aliens, or Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, or Improbability Drives (oh, that blasted Improbability Drive. He was still having nightmares over a hoarde of monkeys with a copy of "Hamlet" trying to break down a door and smother him). Now, he was sitting on a planet of planet builders, trying to comprehend the video he had just seen.
His head was pounding. Earlier, he had tried several times to explain to a Vogon that he simply could not exist, as there was no such thing as aliens, especially ones that were so ill-suited to their home planet. It just wasn't logical. The creature threatened him with poetry if he didn't stop his 'foolish babbling'. It felt like the entire universe was going mad around him. He gripped his towel tightly, out of a need to feel something solid and familiar, like terrycloth, rather than taking the advice to heart that he needed to keep it nearby, because he might need it.
"Okay, okay, fine," he said, standing up, not bothering to check to make sure his robe was closed. "I can take the supercomputer. I can take that it would require millions of years in order to run such a program. I can take all of that. What I can't take is that answer it produces! Mapping chaos patterns would make more sense! FORTY-TWO? That's the answer? It doesn't matter what the question is--the answer to everything can't be forty-two! 'Having a good life' would be logical! I could even buy 'Eating kumquats'! What sort of insane program would come up with that sort of answer? There must've been a bug in the program. There HAS to have been a bug in the program! The universe can't be so messed up that the answer to evertyhing would be forty-two!" He started for the door.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"A walk!" Will replied, jamming his free hand into his pocket, "I can at least do that without needing a blasted Improbability Drive to get me from point A to point B."
Marvin sighed at their host as Will stormed out in a cloud of frustration. "I told you he couldn't handle it."
"C'mon, there. You need to rest this off." Aria leaned heavily on Devo as she was half-carried up the stairs of the Feather and Frog. Luckily, the younger girl was light. Unluckily, her feet didn't seem interested in helping out. Never in her life had Devo met someone so intolerant of alcohol--the smell of it on her breath was nonexistant, but she showed all the other signs of intoxication, including flushed face and slurred speech. Somebody--she wasn't sure who, but she had some ideas--had decided to make the angelic meeting more exciting, and managed to spike Aria's soda pop with whiskey. It hadn't been long after that before the angel of wind was standing on a table, singing quite happily. Luckily, Devo got to her before she began stripping. She made a mental note to have a 'talk' with the perpretrator later. In the meantime, she had a drunken, bizarrely talkative Aria to take care of.
"'s nice up here. So woody. You live up here?"
"Yeah," Devo said, absent-mindedly, concentrating on getting her up the stairs safely, "Can't send you home like this."
"Oh good. I was hopin' we could sing AC/DC later. Aunt Lydia likes it," Aria said, grinning happily, raising a hand up in the air as she punctuated the thought with a loud "Thunderstrike!"
"Yes, later. Right now, you need to rest." She would have a lot of explaining to do the next day. Leaning Aria against her hip, Devo opened the door, leading her inside. Something, unbeknownest to Devo, set Aria giggling as they walked in. It could have been the shape of the drapes or the feel of the carpet for all she knew. She lay Aria, still giggling down on the couch. She could safely sleep her intoxication off here, instead of sending her out into the night. Even with an escort, she would be an easy target.
"Nnn...'s hot in here," Aria noted, furtively beginning to try and pull her button-down blouse up over her head. Devo tugged it back down where it belonged.
"I'll open a window for you," she said, doing so and letting a cool breeze into the room. "Now stay here, okay?" She rose to return to the raucus downstairs, only to be stopped by a hand weakly hanging on to her sleeve.
"Don't go," Aria said, "'s lonesome up here."
Devo frowned slightly. For all she knew, their fellow angels were busy trashing the pub. On second thought, however, her mother and Kieran were there. They could handle them, and if she was needed, they'd get her. "Okay," she said, sitting on the edge of the couch.
Aria closed her eyes slowly and opened them again, smiling widely, her expression strangely content. "Love you."
1) I figure we can keep asking for this until someone writes it. ZOMIEL/RUCHIEL 2) MINIEL BERZUKOV, OB/GYN. Everyone who exists does or should want this to be written. 3) Yehudiah wears sexy lingerie for Oriston. I promise Oriston hopes you write this one.
Dark green eyes glanced up over the edge of a copy of "The Divine Comedy", punctuated by a raised eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
Oriston leaned further over the table, the corners of his mouth turned up into a goofy grin. "Why not? It'd be something different."
"I concede that it would be that, yes," Yehudiah replied calmly, turning a page in her book, "However, it does seem rather...odd. And possibly slightly uncomfortable."
The archangel of the west interlaced his fingers, resting his head against them, undaunted by her resistance. "What's so uncomfortable about leather?" he asked, "It's not like it's plate armor, or anything like that."
"But it is thick. I much prefer clothing that moves without requiring intense negociation with the fabric."
"Oh, c'mon, Diah," Oriston said, standing and coming around to his wife's side of the table. He put his arms around her shoulders, leaning down close to her ear. His cheek lightly brushed against her headspur. "You mean you've never thought about doing it?" he murmured, "Not the teensiest bit of you, daughter of the allmighty leather god, thought of wearing something just a little bit racy? Even just for me?"
Yehudiah was never one to openly express what she was feeling inside. Nevertheless, she quivered, ever so slightly. Her movements delicate, she closed her book, placing it on the table as she emitted a pointed, controlled sigh. "Very well, I believe I have something that will fulfill your request," she said, "if you'll excuse me for a moment."
Rising, she silently left the room, leaving Oriston alone with Dante. He flipped idly through the pages, waiting for what felt like an eternity before he heard the sound of Yehudiah re-entering. He tried not to look too eager as he turned, only to have his expression fall to find that she was wearing the exact same outfit she was when she left. Her hair was arranged differently, but other than that, it was the same, muted, almost matronly dress. "Diah..."
She blinked innocently. "There is leather," she argued calmly, "My shoes are made of it, as is the thong in my hair." She turned her head slightly, ruddy dark hair punctuated by a streak of white swishing, as she pointed out the strip of leather binding her hair back.
"But it's not even the right kind of thong," Oriston replied, unable to keep the taint of sulking out of his voice, "That's a terrible cop out."
There was the slightest bit of a sway in Yehudiah's walk as she approached him, subtle beyond subtle. "Templum, you are being quite serious about it, aren't you?" She took his hand, pulling him closer to her, allowing her to place a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, her gaze was deep, her smile that of her grandmother's--dark, secretive, and completely unseen outside of moments like this. She didn't smile like that for anyone. Only him. "If it's something you desire that much, then perhaps you should see what I'm wearing underneath."
OH GOOD LORD. DIAH IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD. Thank you times a billion for writing this, which was wonderful and awesome and amazing and awesome. I adore this and I adore you.
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(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-11 02:42 am (UTC)- Anika being told she is betrothed.
- Will's favorite sex fantasy.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 03:25 am (UTC)As she walked along the aisles, Aria started to get the feeling that she was in a place she really shouldn't be. Bathed in bright pink neon light that she had thought, at first, had been meant to try and help bring younger girls into the world of cooking, she furtively glanced side to side, looking for utensils she might be at least slightly familiar with--a ladel, a sauce pan, even some good forks. She wasn't entirely certain whips could be used for stirring cookie batter, and, well, she wasn't entirely certain aprons came with feathers.
"You lookin' for somethin' for someone special, luv?" a shopkeeper with excessive eye makeup rounded the corner onto Aria. The redhead shrunk back slightly, feeling a little too much like a fish out of water for comfort.
"I...ah, no, it's for me."
The shopkeeper smiled, secretive, knowing. It made Aria uncomfortable. "Well then, ye'll want that wall display over there. I think ye'll find just what ye need."
She thanked the shopkeeper and shuffled away in the direction she indicated, avoiding eye contact with the other patrons. An older man that had been looking through some books made a strange little noise as she walked by, before hurrying away in the opposite direction. She stopped dead in front of the display, confusion running rampant across her face. As she picked up one of the boxes, she accidentially hit the 'try me!' button, causing the strange, oblong shape to buzz wildly. Taken off guard, Aria squeaked in surprise.
"What a...strange...mixer."
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-11 04:27 am (UTC)- Will as Arthur from Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. Please mention 42.
- Miniel's Amazing MySpace Adventures
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 03:24 am (UTC)Nothing made sense anymore. Just a couple of days ago, Will was sitting in his cozy little house, drinking tea, and everything was quite right in the world. There was no such thing as aliens, or Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters, or Improbability Drives (oh, that blasted Improbability Drive. He was still having nightmares over a hoarde of monkeys with a copy of "Hamlet" trying to break down a door and smother him). Now, he was sitting on a planet of planet builders, trying to comprehend the video he had just seen.
His head was pounding. Earlier, he had tried several times to explain to a Vogon that he simply could not exist, as there was no such thing as aliens, especially ones that were so ill-suited to their home planet. It just wasn't logical. The creature threatened him with poetry if he didn't stop his 'foolish babbling'. It felt like the entire universe was going mad around him. He gripped his towel tightly, out of a need to feel something solid and familiar, like terrycloth, rather than taking the advice to heart that he needed to keep it nearby, because he might need it.
"Okay, okay, fine," he said, standing up, not bothering to check to make sure his robe was closed. "I can take the supercomputer. I can take that it would require millions of years in order to run such a program. I can take all of that. What I can't take is that answer it produces! Mapping chaos patterns would make more sense! FORTY-TWO? That's the answer? It doesn't matter what the question is--the answer to everything can't be forty-two! 'Having a good life' would be logical! I could even buy 'Eating kumquats'! What sort of insane program would come up with that sort of answer? There must've been a bug in the program. There HAS to have been a bug in the program! The universe can't be so messed up that the answer to evertyhing would be forty-two!" He started for the door.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"A walk!" Will replied, jamming his free hand into his pocket, "I can at least do that without needing a blasted Improbability Drive to get me from point A to point B."
Marvin sighed at their host as Will stormed out in a cloud of frustration. "I told you he couldn't handle it."
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 03:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-11 05:27 am (UTC)2 - Aria, drunk at the Feather, is taken care of by Devo with startling results.
3 - Adad carries through on the ancient promise and marries Acheliah.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 01:40 am (UTC)"I don' wanna go though."
"C'mon, there. You need to rest this off." Aria leaned heavily on Devo as she was half-carried up the stairs of the Feather and Frog. Luckily, the younger girl was light. Unluckily, her feet didn't seem interested in helping out. Never in her life had Devo met someone so intolerant of alcohol--the smell of it on her breath was nonexistant, but she showed all the other signs of intoxication, including flushed face and slurred speech. Somebody--she wasn't sure who, but she had some ideas--had decided to make the angelic meeting more exciting, and managed to spike Aria's soda pop with whiskey. It hadn't been long after that before the angel of wind was standing on a table, singing quite happily. Luckily, Devo got to her before she began stripping. She made a mental note to have a 'talk' with the perpretrator later. In the meantime, she had a drunken, bizarrely talkative Aria to take care of.
"'s nice up here. So woody. You live up here?"
"Yeah," Devo said, absent-mindedly, concentrating on getting her up the stairs safely, "Can't send you home like this."
"Oh good. I was hopin' we could sing AC/DC later. Aunt Lydia likes it," Aria said, grinning happily, raising a hand up in the air as she punctuated the thought with a loud "Thunderstrike!"
"Yes, later. Right now, you need to rest." She would have a lot of explaining to do the next day. Leaning Aria against her hip, Devo opened the door, leading her inside. Something, unbeknownest to Devo, set Aria giggling as they walked in. It could have been the shape of the drapes or the feel of the carpet for all she knew. She lay Aria, still giggling down on the couch. She could safely sleep her intoxication off here, instead of sending her out into the night. Even with an escort, she would be an easy target.
"Nnn...'s hot in here," Aria noted, furtively beginning to try and pull her button-down blouse up over her head. Devo tugged it back down where it belonged.
"I'll open a window for you," she said, doing so and letting a cool breeze into the room. "Now stay here, okay?" She rose to return to the raucus downstairs, only to be stopped by a hand weakly hanging on to her sleeve.
"Don't go," Aria said, "'s lonesome up here."
Devo frowned slightly. For all she knew, their fellow angels were busy trashing the pub. On second thought, however, her mother and Kieran were there. They could handle them, and if she was needed, they'd get her. "Okay," she said, sitting on the edge of the couch.
Aria closed her eyes slowly and opened them again, smiling widely, her expression strangely content. "Love you."
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-15 03:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-18 06:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-16 06:52 pm (UTC)2) MINIEL BERZUKOV, OB/GYN. Everyone who exists does or should want this to be written.
3) Yehudiah wears sexy lingerie for Oriston. I promise Oriston hopes you write this one.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-18 05:56 am (UTC)Oriston leaned further over the table, the corners of his mouth turned up into a goofy grin. "Why not? It'd be something different."
"I concede that it would be that, yes," Yehudiah replied calmly, turning a page in her book, "However, it does seem rather...odd. And possibly slightly uncomfortable."
The archangel of the west interlaced his fingers, resting his head against them, undaunted by her resistance. "What's so uncomfortable about leather?" he asked, "It's not like it's plate armor, or anything like that."
"But it is thick. I much prefer clothing that moves without requiring intense negociation with the fabric."
"Oh, c'mon, Diah," Oriston said, standing and coming around to his wife's side of the table. He put his arms around her shoulders, leaning down close to her ear. His cheek lightly brushed against her headspur. "You mean you've never thought about doing it?" he murmured, "Not the teensiest bit of you, daughter of the allmighty leather god, thought of wearing something just a little bit racy? Even just for me?"
Yehudiah was never one to openly express what she was feeling inside. Nevertheless, she quivered, ever so slightly. Her movements delicate, she closed her book, placing it on the table as she emitted a pointed, controlled sigh. "Very well, I believe I have something that will fulfill your request," she said, "if you'll excuse me for a moment."
Rising, she silently left the room, leaving Oriston alone with Dante. He flipped idly through the pages, waiting for what felt like an eternity before he heard the sound of Yehudiah re-entering. He tried not to look too eager as he turned, only to have his expression fall to find that she was wearing the exact same outfit she was when she left. Her hair was arranged differently, but other than that, it was the same, muted, almost matronly dress. "Diah..."
She blinked innocently. "There is leather," she argued calmly, "My shoes are made of it, as is the thong in my hair." She turned her head slightly, ruddy dark hair punctuated by a streak of white swishing, as she pointed out the strip of leather binding her hair back.
"But it's not even the right kind of thong," Oriston replied, unable to keep the taint of sulking out of his voice, "That's a terrible cop out."
There was the slightest bit of a sway in Yehudiah's walk as she approached him, subtle beyond subtle. "Templum, you are being quite serious about it, aren't you?" She took his hand, pulling him closer to her, allowing her to place a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, her gaze was deep, her smile that of her grandmother's--dark, secretive, and completely unseen outside of moments like this. She didn't smile like that for anyone. Only him. "If it's something you desire that much, then perhaps you should see what I'm wearing underneath."
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-18 06:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-18 06:05 am (UTC)