drabble!
after much, much prompting from innogen, i made an LJ to join this community. the work here is astounding!
talk about a lucky fandom [:
this was intended to be part of a fic i was writing, but ended up as nothing more than a lonely outtake. hope you enjoy it :)
It was positively the strangest thing.
That morning had been nothing if not usual, in that satisfying way routines have of allowing one to get up and preform a wide array of actions without actually employing conscious thought. Conscious thought was a process Glitch tended to avoid utilizing.
He’d rolled over in the middle of one strange dream or another, tumbling to the stone floor in a flailing heap of bed linens and limbs. Ow. He’d tugged on one of the freshly pressed, clean shirts the seamstresses had supplied him with, changed into a pair of similarly freshly-pressed new pants, and washed himself up. There had been the standard pause where glitch mentally checked to see what he’d forgotten this time (last week he’d inadvertently worn his trousers backwards, and just yesterday attended breakfast lacking shoes). Once assured that he was, indeed, prepared to face the day, Glitch reverently donned his tattered coat and exited his room.
Yet something was undoubtedly different, and this time it wasn’t that he’d neglected a few buttons while doing up his shirt or put his let foot in his right shoe and his right foot in his left (shoe, that is). The world seemed to have metamorphosed---transformed itself wholly--during the night, yet no one seemed to notice. and they called him oblivious! hah!
The dining hall was majestic no matter what the circumstance, if solely for the grandeur lent by its monolithic size, the towering cathedral ceiling and majestic multitude of windows. Yet today the liquid sunlight streaming through the many windows and spilling onto the polished floor was especially bright, the colors infinitely more vivid, vibrant. The smiling faces around him had never seemed gayer, the contented chatter never more comforting, the delectable aromas wafting to his nose never sweeter. Overcome with a mad impulse to spread the love, as it were, Glitch wanted so badly to give everything in the world one giant hug. The blatant alarm on Cain's face as Glitch practically chirped "Good Morning!" was enough to derail that particular impulse...
How could everyone go about their lives as though this world they’d awoken to was exactly the same as it had been when they retired to their beds last night? The birds were twittering and cheeping cheerily, the sky was a delirious azure expanse, and everywhere Glitch looked there was a striking beauty and lucid clarity that he’d never before experienced.
The world was so beautiful. Stunning, even. Oh, yes, he was stunned.
“Glitch?”
He looked up from his plate, unable to repress his grin at the way she made his name sound-that must have been the most beautiful thing in the world-
Then his eyes fell on her. DG. Smiling shyly up at him and asking him to pass the French toast. DG. Saying his name. (poor glitch--instant seizure much?)
Fingers fumbling, mumbling profuse apologies as he struggled to grasp the platter and wishing his arms weren’t shaking, Glitch was immensely grateful that at the very least he wasn’t blushing. Those blazing blue eyes and that tousled chocolate hair, bangs all askew in the most endearing way, had reminded Glitch why everything was suddenly so beatific and lovely.
In one apocalyptic glance, DG set Glitch’s synapses to sizzling. Once all coherencies had evaporated, recollections of the day before inundated Glitch’s beleaguered mind in a flood that would’ve terrified Noah. It was the most terrifyingly wonderful blitz, and Glitch never, ever wanted it to end.
Even as she transferred several slices of French toast to her plate, DG’s eyes never once left his. As for Glitch, he was too preoccupied with drowning in aforementioned eyes to realize or even care whether anyone noticed. It was like…gravity moved. DG was definitely the only thing in the world he had eyes for.
What glitch had been thinking when he called the world beautiful he certainly didn’t know. because beautiful, heh…well beautiful would never begin to cover it.
talk about a lucky fandom [:
this was intended to be part of a fic i was writing, but ended up as nothing more than a lonely outtake. hope you enjoy it :)
It was positively the strangest thing.
That morning had been nothing if not usual, in that satisfying way routines have of allowing one to get up and preform a wide array of actions without actually employing conscious thought. Conscious thought was a process Glitch tended to avoid utilizing.
He’d rolled over in the middle of one strange dream or another, tumbling to the stone floor in a flailing heap of bed linens and limbs. Ow. He’d tugged on one of the freshly pressed, clean shirts the seamstresses had supplied him with, changed into a pair of similarly freshly-pressed new pants, and washed himself up. There had been the standard pause where glitch mentally checked to see what he’d forgotten this time (last week he’d inadvertently worn his trousers backwards, and just yesterday attended breakfast lacking shoes). Once assured that he was, indeed, prepared to face the day, Glitch reverently donned his tattered coat and exited his room.
Yet something was undoubtedly different, and this time it wasn’t that he’d neglected a few buttons while doing up his shirt or put his let foot in his right shoe and his right foot in his left (shoe, that is). The world seemed to have metamorphosed---transformed itself wholly--during the night, yet no one seemed to notice. and they called him oblivious! hah!
The dining hall was majestic no matter what the circumstance, if solely for the grandeur lent by its monolithic size, the towering cathedral ceiling and majestic multitude of windows. Yet today the liquid sunlight streaming through the many windows and spilling onto the polished floor was especially bright, the colors infinitely more vivid, vibrant. The smiling faces around him had never seemed gayer, the contented chatter never more comforting, the delectable aromas wafting to his nose never sweeter. Overcome with a mad impulse to spread the love, as it were, Glitch wanted so badly to give everything in the world one giant hug. The blatant alarm on Cain's face as Glitch practically chirped "Good Morning!" was enough to derail that particular impulse...
How could everyone go about their lives as though this world they’d awoken to was exactly the same as it had been when they retired to their beds last night? The birds were twittering and cheeping cheerily, the sky was a delirious azure expanse, and everywhere Glitch looked there was a striking beauty and lucid clarity that he’d never before experienced.
The world was so beautiful. Stunning, even. Oh, yes, he was stunned.
“Glitch?”
He looked up from his plate, unable to repress his grin at the way she made his name sound-that must have been the most beautiful thing in the world-
Then his eyes fell on her. DG. Smiling shyly up at him and asking him to pass the French toast. DG. Saying his name. (poor glitch--instant seizure much?)
Fingers fumbling, mumbling profuse apologies as he struggled to grasp the platter and wishing his arms weren’t shaking, Glitch was immensely grateful that at the very least he wasn’t blushing. Those blazing blue eyes and that tousled chocolate hair, bangs all askew in the most endearing way, had reminded Glitch why everything was suddenly so beatific and lovely.
In one apocalyptic glance, DG set Glitch’s synapses to sizzling. Once all coherencies had evaporated, recollections of the day before inundated Glitch’s beleaguered mind in a flood that would’ve terrified Noah. It was the most terrifyingly wonderful blitz, and Glitch never, ever wanted it to end.
Even as she transferred several slices of French toast to her plate, DG’s eyes never once left his. As for Glitch, he was too preoccupied with drowning in aforementioned eyes to realize or even care whether anyone noticed. It was like…gravity moved. DG was definitely the only thing in the world he had eyes for.
What glitch had been thinking when he called the world beautiful he certainly didn’t know. because beautiful, heh…well beautiful would never begin to cover it.