Pumpkin Pie 11, Cherry Vanilla 5: Theft
Title: Theft
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Pumpkin pie 11 (in the shadows), cherry vanilla 5 (the mysterious stranger), My Treat (Hugh meets Yvonne.), butterscotch, cherry (Byronesque), malt (nath_skywalker's easter egg: I need to borrow your girlfriend.), fresh blueberries (From what I’ve tasted of desire/I hold with those who favor fire./But if it had to perish twice,/I think I know enough of hate/To say that for destruction ice/Is also great/And would suffice.).
Word Count: 1007
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Hugh and Yvonne meet.
Notes: Lord Byron was a jerk but he did write good poetry.
The day was sunny, bright and warm and fair
A rarity within a land so sere
That nothing grew, not grass nor leaf nor tree.
No fragrant meadow or perfumèd lea
Adorned its hills; no silver whisp'ring stream
Nor rushing river, nor a pool agleam
In summer sunlight; no water to see
No water here, except the sounding sea
Whose ocean green and endless blue-grey deep
Is home to mysteries still fast asleep.
The mighty kraken, vast Leviathan,
Or great Cthulhu, there since time began.
The whales, the sharks, the lesser fish a-teeming
Swim all unknowing above monsters dreaming.
And so it was that day, so bright and fair;
Dark evil lurked, to make a man despair.
A girl with hair of gold, bright as the sun,
A man with a sweet smile she plans to stun,
Her sister, dark of hair and good of heart,
who is no match for malice's careful art.
These are the players in this sorrowed tale,
The three shall meet and nothing shall prevail.
For none will leave this day without a bruise;
and none will win, and everyone will lose.
Theresa Wright, a girl of good renown,
Called 'Resa by her loved ones and the town,
Beloved by all, and yet her cherished hair
Is dark and thin, beside her sister's fair
And golden locks, her face too sharp and old;
Her sister's face is round, pretty and cold.
Theresa Wright, a daughter kind and bright,
Whose sister's beauty cannot dim her light,
Has won herself a man of good repute,
Whose shy sweet smile and kindness press his suit.
And, if she thought, she would not bring him home
To meet her mother, rather always roam
And be with him, then lose him as she would
But she did not think, and lost him for good.
Her sister saw her dark and thinning face,
Her coal-black hair and the wrinkled trace
The days left on her, and she could not think
Why her bright beauty was eclipsed by ink.
Her jealousy consumed her, and her rage
Impelled her past the caring what the sage
Has said about morality and kin
Besides, she did not hold revenge a sin.
Revenge it was, for Resa's one mistake
Was having what her sister wished to take.
Be kind, their mother said, but kindness oft
Hides vileness beneath the seeming soft
So with Yvonne, whose blushing beauty bright
Hid anger, hatred, grief as thick as night
For chances lost to time, or (she thought) theft
Her family's happiness left her bereft.
She blamed her hollow heart on those around
But in herself there never was blame found.
Deprived of what she thought was hers by right,
Her anger grew and grew and reached to bite.
Be kind, her mother said, and Yvonne knew
That oft from kindness something useful grew
So for herself, and not for those she served
Was all her service; her darkness observed
By none but family. Them she never fooled.
She never bothered; she needed to be cruel.
'What a sweet girl,' oft remarked the town
She smiled, and smiled, and in her mind they drown.
What of this man she set her sights upon?
He was a good man, is, and still a pawn
Of his own feelings, and her clever wiles.
He hoped to rescue her; was thus beguiled.
He loved Theresa, truly, 'til his eyes
Were blinded willingly by a sweet guise
And a shy smile. What man was ever born
Who could resist the eyes of one lovelorn?
Many, to speak truly, but our lad
Such a one was not, nor yet a cad.
He thought that he could help, and so he tried.
He never knew he'd lose all in the tide.
He was a good man; there his downfall lay.
He wanted once to help; instead betrayed.
This all lies in the future, on this day
So bright and sweet, so sunny, fair and gay.
Picknickers abound, and children frolic
In a setting dry but still bucolic
Hand in hand our doomed lovers stroll
They pause a moment on a dusty knoll
Before arriving, just to feel the breeze
And smell the sea that brings men to their knees.
Down the hill, a curtain twitches shut
Yvonne turns to her mirror. Perfect-- but
Just not yet finished. She sees her face
And makes it look as innocent as grace.
Her mother makes the tea, prepares the day
Yvonne waits for her chance, a patient grey.
The lovers enter in, sit on the couch.
Her someday man sits with a tiny slouch.
She'll erase that. She'll change what she likes not.
She'll have all that she wants, and they can rot.
Her mother calls her in, whispers "behave,"
She nods so meekly, never shows that they've
Walked right into her trap. She takes the tray
Brings it in the room, and sees her prey.
And what did he see, on the looking up?
A girl with great blue eyes proffers a cup.
She tucks her golden hair behind one ear
Tentatively gives a smile of cheer.
Theresa scowls, sharp and sudden ire.
The girl ignores her, seems to him admire;
Looks down, all modest, when he meets her eyes.
He thinks her sweet, and beautiful, and shy.
As yet, there is no interest, past the first
He smiles at her, then turns, her bubble burst.
Yet she is satisfied, for when she passed
His cup to him, she moved a bit too fast
He caught the cup and did not spill too much
And in the movement, once their hands did touch.
She knows the saying's true, that well begun
Is more than just a start; it is half done.
He sees her as a girl-- and that will change.
He'll see her as his all. She will estrange
Her mother and her sister, leave them flat.
She'll have her justice. That will just be that.
She leaves the room, leaves them by fortune propped.
Her plan is made, and she cannot be stopped.
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Pumpkin pie 11 (in the shadows), cherry vanilla 5 (the mysterious stranger), My Treat (Hugh meets Yvonne.), butterscotch, cherry (Byronesque), malt (nath_skywalker's easter egg: I need to borrow your girlfriend.), fresh blueberries (From what I’ve tasted of desire/I hold with those who favor fire./But if it had to perish twice,/I think I know enough of hate/To say that for destruction ice/Is also great/And would suffice.).
Word Count: 1007
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Hugh and Yvonne meet.
Notes: Lord Byron was a jerk but he did write good poetry.
The day was sunny, bright and warm and fair
A rarity within a land so sere
That nothing grew, not grass nor leaf nor tree.
No fragrant meadow or perfumèd lea
Adorned its hills; no silver whisp'ring stream
Nor rushing river, nor a pool agleam
In summer sunlight; no water to see
No water here, except the sounding sea
Whose ocean green and endless blue-grey deep
Is home to mysteries still fast asleep.
The mighty kraken, vast Leviathan,
Or great Cthulhu, there since time began.
The whales, the sharks, the lesser fish a-teeming
Swim all unknowing above monsters dreaming.
And so it was that day, so bright and fair;
Dark evil lurked, to make a man despair.
A girl with hair of gold, bright as the sun,
A man with a sweet smile she plans to stun,
Her sister, dark of hair and good of heart,
who is no match for malice's careful art.
These are the players in this sorrowed tale,
The three shall meet and nothing shall prevail.
For none will leave this day without a bruise;
and none will win, and everyone will lose.
Theresa Wright, a girl of good renown,
Called 'Resa by her loved ones and the town,
Beloved by all, and yet her cherished hair
Is dark and thin, beside her sister's fair
And golden locks, her face too sharp and old;
Her sister's face is round, pretty and cold.
Theresa Wright, a daughter kind and bright,
Whose sister's beauty cannot dim her light,
Has won herself a man of good repute,
Whose shy sweet smile and kindness press his suit.
And, if she thought, she would not bring him home
To meet her mother, rather always roam
And be with him, then lose him as she would
But she did not think, and lost him for good.
Her sister saw her dark and thinning face,
Her coal-black hair and the wrinkled trace
The days left on her, and she could not think
Why her bright beauty was eclipsed by ink.
Her jealousy consumed her, and her rage
Impelled her past the caring what the sage
Has said about morality and kin
Besides, she did not hold revenge a sin.
Revenge it was, for Resa's one mistake
Was having what her sister wished to take.
Be kind, their mother said, but kindness oft
Hides vileness beneath the seeming soft
So with Yvonne, whose blushing beauty bright
Hid anger, hatred, grief as thick as night
For chances lost to time, or (she thought) theft
Her family's happiness left her bereft.
She blamed her hollow heart on those around
But in herself there never was blame found.
Deprived of what she thought was hers by right,
Her anger grew and grew and reached to bite.
Be kind, her mother said, and Yvonne knew
That oft from kindness something useful grew
So for herself, and not for those she served
Was all her service; her darkness observed
By none but family. Them she never fooled.
She never bothered; she needed to be cruel.
'What a sweet girl,' oft remarked the town
She smiled, and smiled, and in her mind they drown.
What of this man she set her sights upon?
He was a good man, is, and still a pawn
Of his own feelings, and her clever wiles.
He hoped to rescue her; was thus beguiled.
He loved Theresa, truly, 'til his eyes
Were blinded willingly by a sweet guise
And a shy smile. What man was ever born
Who could resist the eyes of one lovelorn?
Many, to speak truly, but our lad
Such a one was not, nor yet a cad.
He thought that he could help, and so he tried.
He never knew he'd lose all in the tide.
He was a good man; there his downfall lay.
He wanted once to help; instead betrayed.
This all lies in the future, on this day
So bright and sweet, so sunny, fair and gay.
Picknickers abound, and children frolic
In a setting dry but still bucolic
Hand in hand our doomed lovers stroll
They pause a moment on a dusty knoll
Before arriving, just to feel the breeze
And smell the sea that brings men to their knees.
Down the hill, a curtain twitches shut
Yvonne turns to her mirror. Perfect-- but
Just not yet finished. She sees her face
And makes it look as innocent as grace.
Her mother makes the tea, prepares the day
Yvonne waits for her chance, a patient grey.
The lovers enter in, sit on the couch.
Her someday man sits with a tiny slouch.
She'll erase that. She'll change what she likes not.
She'll have all that she wants, and they can rot.
Her mother calls her in, whispers "behave,"
She nods so meekly, never shows that they've
Walked right into her trap. She takes the tray
Brings it in the room, and sees her prey.
And what did he see, on the looking up?
A girl with great blue eyes proffers a cup.
She tucks her golden hair behind one ear
Tentatively gives a smile of cheer.
Theresa scowls, sharp and sudden ire.
The girl ignores her, seems to him admire;
Looks down, all modest, when he meets her eyes.
He thinks her sweet, and beautiful, and shy.
As yet, there is no interest, past the first
He smiles at her, then turns, her bubble burst.
Yet she is satisfied, for when she passed
His cup to him, she moved a bit too fast
He caught the cup and did not spill too much
And in the movement, once their hands did touch.
She knows the saying's true, that well begun
Is more than just a start; it is half done.
He sees her as a girl-- and that will change.
He'll see her as his all. She will estrange
Her mother and her sister, leave them flat.
She'll have her justice. That will just be that.
She leaves the room, leaves them by fortune propped.
Her plan is made, and she cannot be stopped.