FOTD - Gorgonize
Author: Regret
Rating: G
Story: Radial: Unravel
Challenge: FOTD - Gorgonize
Topping: Whipped Cream (Alex is 12)
Word Count: 676
Summary: Alex discovers that sometimes appearances can be deceptive...
Notes: I declare this week Alex's FOTD Whipped Cream week, which I will probably regret come tomorrow.
The girl wasn’t as useless as he’d thought. He’d have stared open-mouthed, if doing so wouldn’t show unacceptable weakness, as he watched her twist tutor after tutor around her little finger until she’d escaped most of the work the rest of the class were assigned. She even managed to pile a little extra on some of the others, Alex included.
So much for sheer dumb luck: the girl was an arch manipulator. Some of the others objected, the blond boy with the bright blue eyes most vociferously of all, to no avail. Between sad looks, puppy eyes and fluttered lashes she managed to dodge most of the allotted coursework for the term.
He learned not to object when she did it. Silence after the first failed attempt meant he only had an extra half an hour of work a week. The mouthy blond-Kennet, apparently; Alex hadn’t enquired personally-didn’t seem quite so quick on the uptake: Alex would be impressed if he had any free time left after she’d finished with him.
He couldn’t understand how the blond failed to see he was taking all the wrong actions. Assessment from a safe distance was always preferable to direct contact with no intelligence. He was prepared to reassess his initial conclusions: Kennet would be no challenge at all if this was anything to go by- not least because he’d die from overwork before the year was out.
There had to be a class that girl couldn’t weasel out of, but Alex was beginning to suspect he’d never see it.
* * *
Martial arts training featured heavily in the schedules. Alex didn’t mind, although he’d heard some of the others groan and whine; they’d come from less... proactive departments than his own. It explained why they were the last classes they were introduced to, and the nervous rustling of slightly too big gi as they arranged themselves into two lines to face the instructor.
He’d taken a space in the middle of the back row. Safer: no one behind him to cause trouble and his peripheral vision was good enough to face forward and still be aware of his classmates either side. Kennet had taken one at the front where he could show off; the girl was two spaces along from him, almost directly ahead of Alex. Perfect posture. He was almost impressed.
Shame about her attitude. Even as the instructor-tall, broad-shouldered; broad all over, in fact-finished up his speech he could see her shifting her weight from foot to foot, preparing her excuses for why she couldn’t take up the mandatory hour a day’s training.
“But sir, I can’t do that, I-”
“I beg your pardon?” Even from the second row he could see the pale-eyed hawk’s stare the instructor turned on her. The words died in her throat; for the first time he found himself wishing he could see her face, if only because he was sure it’d be priceless.
He could see her jaw work, her mouth opening and closing: first rapidly-he could almost see the cogs turning in her mind, how best to brazen it out-then more slowly until, under the grey stare, she froze, silent.
“Your tricks won’t work on me, Sarah. You will do your set training, or I will hear of it. Do you understand?”
Her nod was excruciatingly slow, like a statue come to life.
Tricks, huh? Alex filed that crumb away where he could later turn it over, research it, peel away its secrets until the facts were laid bare and returned his attention to the class. The instructor had resumed his pacing but, almost close enough that he could reach out and touch her, Sarah had turned an unhealthy white. She wasn’t used to being thwarted.
Alex permitted himself a small smile. Once he’d had a chance to delve into it, she’d find it happening a lot more.
Maybe then she’d realise what kind of person he was, that she’d been so happy to get into trouble-and what would happen if she tried again.
Rating: G
Story: Radial: Unravel
Challenge: FOTD - Gorgonize
Topping: Whipped Cream (Alex is 12)
Word Count: 676
Summary: Alex discovers that sometimes appearances can be deceptive...
Notes: I declare this week Alex's FOTD Whipped Cream week, which I will probably regret come tomorrow.
The girl wasn’t as useless as he’d thought. He’d have stared open-mouthed, if doing so wouldn’t show unacceptable weakness, as he watched her twist tutor after tutor around her little finger until she’d escaped most of the work the rest of the class were assigned. She even managed to pile a little extra on some of the others, Alex included.
So much for sheer dumb luck: the girl was an arch manipulator. Some of the others objected, the blond boy with the bright blue eyes most vociferously of all, to no avail. Between sad looks, puppy eyes and fluttered lashes she managed to dodge most of the allotted coursework for the term.
He learned not to object when she did it. Silence after the first failed attempt meant he only had an extra half an hour of work a week. The mouthy blond-Kennet, apparently; Alex hadn’t enquired personally-didn’t seem quite so quick on the uptake: Alex would be impressed if he had any free time left after she’d finished with him.
He couldn’t understand how the blond failed to see he was taking all the wrong actions. Assessment from a safe distance was always preferable to direct contact with no intelligence. He was prepared to reassess his initial conclusions: Kennet would be no challenge at all if this was anything to go by- not least because he’d die from overwork before the year was out.
There had to be a class that girl couldn’t weasel out of, but Alex was beginning to suspect he’d never see it.
* * *
Martial arts training featured heavily in the schedules. Alex didn’t mind, although he’d heard some of the others groan and whine; they’d come from less... proactive departments than his own. It explained why they were the last classes they were introduced to, and the nervous rustling of slightly too big gi as they arranged themselves into two lines to face the instructor.
He’d taken a space in the middle of the back row. Safer: no one behind him to cause trouble and his peripheral vision was good enough to face forward and still be aware of his classmates either side. Kennet had taken one at the front where he could show off; the girl was two spaces along from him, almost directly ahead of Alex. Perfect posture. He was almost impressed.
Shame about her attitude. Even as the instructor-tall, broad-shouldered; broad all over, in fact-finished up his speech he could see her shifting her weight from foot to foot, preparing her excuses for why she couldn’t take up the mandatory hour a day’s training.
“But sir, I can’t do that, I-”
“I beg your pardon?” Even from the second row he could see the pale-eyed hawk’s stare the instructor turned on her. The words died in her throat; for the first time he found himself wishing he could see her face, if only because he was sure it’d be priceless.
He could see her jaw work, her mouth opening and closing: first rapidly-he could almost see the cogs turning in her mind, how best to brazen it out-then more slowly until, under the grey stare, she froze, silent.
“Your tricks won’t work on me, Sarah. You will do your set training, or I will hear of it. Do you understand?”
Her nod was excruciatingly slow, like a statue come to life.
Tricks, huh? Alex filed that crumb away where he could later turn it over, research it, peel away its secrets until the facts were laid bare and returned his attention to the class. The instructor had resumed his pacing but, almost close enough that he could reach out and touch her, Sarah had turned an unhealthy white. She wasn’t used to being thwarted.
Alex permitted himself a small smile. Once he’d had a chance to delve into it, she’d find it happening a lot more.
Maybe then she’d realise what kind of person he was, that she’d been so happy to get into trouble-and what would happen if she tried again.