Hyped (PL)
Title: Hyped
Fandom: Professor Layton
Rating: PG
Word Count: 519
Genre: Humor
Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton. Or his top-hat of awesome.
Teaser: According to Luke, Flora has gone crazy.
“WHEE!!”
Usually when Layton walked through the front door, he heard things like calls welcoming him home, or footsteps rushing to greet him, or occasionally the sound of an argument between Luke and Flora, or frequently just the sounds of everyday household life, like pots clanging or the squeak of the rocking chair in the study or any number of other little noises here and there.
Today, however, he heard a high-pitched cry of “WHEE!” as he walked in. It was definitely not anything he had ever heard before from either of the children under his care. There had been screaming and yelling and shouting and threats of all sorts of things (especially as the two reached those delightful teenaged years), but this noise seemed more at home in an amusement park than in his home. Although he hoped that whatever amusement park it ended up in did not have any runaway Ferris Wheels trying to kill innocent bystanders.
No little confused by the odd sound, Layton wandered further into the house, looking around for the source of it. Maybe a wild animal had gotten inside or something…
Suddenly, Luke appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen. His eyes were wide and alarmed, and he immediately ran towards the Professor with his arms outstretched. “Professor! Help me! She’s gone mad!” He grabbed Layton’s jacket in tight fists and tugged at it desperately, frantically. “Help me!”
“Calm down, my boy!” Layton said, alarmed by his apprentice’s uncharacteristic outburst. He put his hands on Luke’s shoulders and squeezed, trying to will the boy to take a deep breath and tell him what was happening. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Flora, Professor! She’s gone out of her mind!” Luke insisted, shaking his head. “She was drinking something that a friend said she could try. I think she said it was called a mocha or something. And then she just went bonkers! Jumping around and making noises and climbing things and...” He looked at his mentor entreatingly. “…and I don’t know what happened, but she’s scary, Professor! She’s scary!” That last was almost a wail.
A mocha? Layton frowned as he heard a crash upstairs. He released Luke and stepped back; his apprentice released him. “Luke, stay here.” With slow, cautious steps, he crossed the room and made his way upstairs, following the sound of crashing and giggling until he stood outside Flora’s door. He hesitated, then knocked.
“Come iiiiiiiin!” a familiar female voice trilled from inside, followed by a high-pitched giggle.
That alone was incredibly alarming. She never giggled like that.
The Professor opened the door and peered into the room. It took him a moment to find her, but when he did, he actually gaped. Whatever was in that mocha, one thing was for certain: he was never going to allow such a thing in the house again. Ever. They were obviously the work of some great supernatural force of evil, if what he was seeing now was any indication at all. “Flora, my dear, what in the world are you doing on the ceiling?”
“I CAN TASTE COLORS!”
Fandom: Professor Layton
Rating: PG
Word Count: 519
Genre: Humor
Disclaimer: I don't own Professor Layton. Or his top-hat of awesome.
Teaser: According to Luke, Flora has gone crazy.
“WHEE!!”
Usually when Layton walked through the front door, he heard things like calls welcoming him home, or footsteps rushing to greet him, or occasionally the sound of an argument between Luke and Flora, or frequently just the sounds of everyday household life, like pots clanging or the squeak of the rocking chair in the study or any number of other little noises here and there.
Today, however, he heard a high-pitched cry of “WHEE!” as he walked in. It was definitely not anything he had ever heard before from either of the children under his care. There had been screaming and yelling and shouting and threats of all sorts of things (especially as the two reached those delightful teenaged years), but this noise seemed more at home in an amusement park than in his home. Although he hoped that whatever amusement park it ended up in did not have any runaway Ferris Wheels trying to kill innocent bystanders.
No little confused by the odd sound, Layton wandered further into the house, looking around for the source of it. Maybe a wild animal had gotten inside or something…
Suddenly, Luke appeared in the doorway that led to the kitchen. His eyes were wide and alarmed, and he immediately ran towards the Professor with his arms outstretched. “Professor! Help me! She’s gone mad!” He grabbed Layton’s jacket in tight fists and tugged at it desperately, frantically. “Help me!”
“Calm down, my boy!” Layton said, alarmed by his apprentice’s uncharacteristic outburst. He put his hands on Luke’s shoulders and squeezed, trying to will the boy to take a deep breath and tell him what was happening. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Flora, Professor! She’s gone out of her mind!” Luke insisted, shaking his head. “She was drinking something that a friend said she could try. I think she said it was called a mocha or something. And then she just went bonkers! Jumping around and making noises and climbing things and...” He looked at his mentor entreatingly. “…and I don’t know what happened, but she’s scary, Professor! She’s scary!” That last was almost a wail.
A mocha? Layton frowned as he heard a crash upstairs. He released Luke and stepped back; his apprentice released him. “Luke, stay here.” With slow, cautious steps, he crossed the room and made his way upstairs, following the sound of crashing and giggling until he stood outside Flora’s door. He hesitated, then knocked.
“Come iiiiiiiin!” a familiar female voice trilled from inside, followed by a high-pitched giggle.
That alone was incredibly alarming. She never giggled like that.
The Professor opened the door and peered into the room. It took him a moment to find her, but when he did, he actually gaped. Whatever was in that mocha, one thing was for certain: he was never going to allow such a thing in the house again. Ever. They were obviously the work of some great supernatural force of evil, if what he was seeing now was any indication at all. “Flora, my dear, what in the world are you doing on the ceiling?”
“I CAN TASTE COLORS!”