Hatchet
Blunt and Sharp
Hatchet submitted a new role play:
The Impetus of Insolence - When pursuing a car thief wakes a sleeping dragon.
Tap-tap-tap-tick. Tap-tap-tap-tap-taptick. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Pros: stress relief; better for Allison, lighter sentence—Ava crossed that one out. Made curling scribbles over it and crossed it out again. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Cons: probably never see Allison again; Allison would be alone; Jiggy would hate me; I’d be in—Ava crossed that out, the same way. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Cons: would they kill me? Pros: They’re probably going to kill me anyway.
Just as Jiggy stomped into the office, Ava ran the notebook sheet through the paper shredder. “What’s that?” She shrugged. Nothing. “Whatever have you called your friend yet? I need to know if he’s going to match the scrapper’s price.” He meant Zwei and Ava wasn’t sure she’d call him a friend, but didn’t argue the point. He paid more for steel and iron when she talked to him, anyway. “Seriously, call him, would you?”
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Sure. Click.
“You look like shit, Ava, what’s up with you?” She hadn’t slept a full three hours in nine days. Allison was having nightmares. She was having nightmares, they just didn’t wake her screaming. There was a stolen engine covered in the bed of her brother’s truck, waiting for the broken engine of a ’53 Fiat 8V to come out and make room. Her secretly brilliant brother was going to make it run with a One:1 V8. Yeah. She told him the coffee wasn’t strong enough. “You make it next time, priss. Call that guy.”
In good time. As soon as he ducked back into the garage, Ava put the ‘out to lunch’ sign up, grabbed her purse and scurried out the door. It was just after eleven, it was practically a useable excuse. Forward and right was campus. Allison had pleaded with her to go. Forward and across the street was the bus stop that would take her north, home. Forward and left was Checkmate. When she got to the end of Adkins, she turned east. That’s almost always what she did. Checkmate carried a narrow selection of jewelry and Ava was trying to find the perfect piece for Allison. Something classy and old, good condition but with character. Allison liked used things with character.
Before going in, she put ear buds into the appropriate socket and tucked the jack into her pocket. Then she waved at the owner behind the counter and bent to look at the jewelry. Some of the schmuck looked like real old gold with gems clouded by age, but nothing just said, ‘Allison, I love you this much.’ If only she liked cars, Ava could have given her the perfect gift years ago. Disappointed again, she waved a second time and left without anything.
From the bus window she saw three cars just begging to be snagged and bit down the impulse to hop out and take less public transport. She didn’t think she needed that stress of a thrill just then.
Home was cheerfully blooming with lavender, protected irises and yellow tomato flowers. Plum blossoms were starting to turn out in the back and Ava suspected they would be under a rain of pecans again. Inside the house was cool and dim though it was climbing towards 80 F outside. All the blinds were drawn and Allison had laid on top of a pile of clean laundry. She was sleeping, but her face was scrunched in discomfort. She twitched and groaned when Ava eased in to lay partly on top of her, but didn’t properly wake up, so Ava used her hip as a pillow and waited with eyes half-shut. Tick. Tick.
*
@TheKaosophile
The Impetus of Insolence - When pursuing a car thief wakes a sleeping dragon.
Read more about this role play...
When you woke up this morning, did you expect to stalked? Or robbed? Even murdered? The narrative of this story will incorporate all three of these crimes and more. Are you the victim? The investigator or reporter? The witness? Are you the perpetrator?
Everyday, for at least few moments, we walk into someone else's life; for most...
Tap-tap-tap-tick. Tap-tap-tap-tap-taptick. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Pros: stress relief; better for Allison, lighter sentence—Ava crossed that one out. Made curling scribbles over it and crossed it out again. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Cons: probably never see Allison again; Allison would be alone; Jiggy would hate me; I’d be in—Ava crossed that out, the same way. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Cons: would they kill me? Pros: They’re probably going to kill me anyway.
Just as Jiggy stomped into the office, Ava ran the notebook sheet through the paper shredder. “What’s that?” She shrugged. Nothing. “Whatever have you called your friend yet? I need to know if he’s going to match the scrapper’s price.” He meant Zwei and Ava wasn’t sure she’d call him a friend, but didn’t argue the point. He paid more for steel and iron when she talked to him, anyway. “Seriously, call him, would you?”
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tick. Sure. Click.
“You look like shit, Ava, what’s up with you?” She hadn’t slept a full three hours in nine days. Allison was having nightmares. She was having nightmares, they just didn’t wake her screaming. There was a stolen engine covered in the bed of her brother’s truck, waiting for the broken engine of a ’53 Fiat 8V to come out and make room. Her secretly brilliant brother was going to make it run with a One:1 V8. Yeah. She told him the coffee wasn’t strong enough. “You make it next time, priss. Call that guy.”
In good time. As soon as he ducked back into the garage, Ava put the ‘out to lunch’ sign up, grabbed her purse and scurried out the door. It was just after eleven, it was practically a useable excuse. Forward and right was campus. Allison had pleaded with her to go. Forward and across the street was the bus stop that would take her north, home. Forward and left was Checkmate. When she got to the end of Adkins, she turned east. That’s almost always what she did. Checkmate carried a narrow selection of jewelry and Ava was trying to find the perfect piece for Allison. Something classy and old, good condition but with character. Allison liked used things with character.
Before going in, she put ear buds into the appropriate socket and tucked the jack into her pocket. Then she waved at the owner behind the counter and bent to look at the jewelry. Some of the schmuck looked like real old gold with gems clouded by age, but nothing just said, ‘Allison, I love you this much.’ If only she liked cars, Ava could have given her the perfect gift years ago. Disappointed again, she waved a second time and left without anything.
From the bus window she saw three cars just begging to be snagged and bit down the impulse to hop out and take less public transport. She didn’t think she needed that stress of a thrill just then.
Home was cheerfully blooming with lavender, protected irises and yellow tomato flowers. Plum blossoms were starting to turn out in the back and Ava suspected they would be under a rain of pecans again. Inside the house was cool and dim though it was climbing towards 80 F outside. All the blinds were drawn and Allison had laid on top of a pile of clean laundry. She was sleeping, but her face was scrunched in discomfort. She twitched and groaned when Ava eased in to lay partly on top of her, but didn’t properly wake up, so Ava used her hip as a pillow and waited with eyes half-shut. Tick. Tick.
*
@TheKaosophile