Aug 14, 2011 18:44
meme,
i been shitting for all my life,
look at me,
spongebob edward,
i had to drink a beer to type this,
tails has mental problems,
hi tails •3•,
tails gets a tag,
tails can top too,
a banana is not a veggie,
tails equals boo bear,
a boombox is not a toy,
tails? more like fails ha ha,
throw your penis at me
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[and she draws a small scrap of paper from her jacket; a sheet of ruled notepad]
Teach me. My apologies but it's not a perfect square and it's rather...woebegone.
[true enough, there's an assortment of idle scribbling on it:]
Do laundry.
Budgeting.
Call housekeeping to transfer last of belongings from 6-2a to 8-9.
[things of no consequence; besides the Babelfish didn't translate the written word and, considering his disdain for foreigners, she highly doubted he could read any of it; still it was an indirect message of sorts; he had shown that he could read numerals at least]
[one wonders if the paper folding truly was what the dare entailed]
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[he doesn't recognize the foreign symbols and doesn't care to (with the exception of numbers, what he realizes are rooms). he doesn't ask questions; instead, makes a fold and licks its spine to tear it off into a neater square]
Half, then four triangles triangles.
[three smooth folds]
Close it up, and outward triangles. Then to a diamond.
[it's almost falling apart, miserable in his grip]
Another perfect triangle, then open it up. Flip a leaf over, lay it flat, do the other side. Fold in the flaps. Fold the middle piece over.
[he's not slowing down for her comprehension, movements smooth and sharp and confident]
Bring all the points to the top. Flip a leaf over. Flip the top half down. Bring this angle down here and tuck it in to make the head. The other tip goes back into the tail.
[--a pause, and he offers his palms out to her as though he might catch water, with the bird still looking shrunken in and ( ... )
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[doing as she's told, she uses both hands to delicately tug each wing out from the body; it still looked rather pitiful though; her writing was unrecognizable now, green scrawl marring the bird's body all over]
Still woebegone but looking better.
[herself or the crane?]
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[he drops his hands away as the bird's wings remain on her fingertips]
[smoke is tended to once again]
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Lack does foster creativity.
[smirking slightly]
That was a rather dull distraction but I suppose you won.
[she'll concede defeat; after all, she merely asked him to teach, not make her learn; there was a difference]
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Unrepentant sinners are doubly damned. However, you don't strike me as the sort to do things in half-measures anyway.
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If one is going to sin, sin with pride. Sin with hedonism.
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The truth often brings pain.
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