The Red Bedspread: Part 1/40
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
Title: The Red Bedspread
Pairing: Glitch/Raw
Rating: I’m aiming high, but we know how that usually ends up - flowery innuendo. Still, it may WILL get to an R down the road.
Prompt Table: Here.
Summary: Glitch’s changes in personality may be more than just shifting moods. Can Raw pull his friend together again before it’s too late?
A/N: Cheesy summary, sorry. Tune in for “As the O.Z. Turns”! Written for the forty word prompt table on magic4mula
Dear Raw,
I’ve been told that I was once quite the correspondent, but it’s taken me twenty minutes to come up with “Dear Raw” so apparently I’m rusty. I don’t know what the point of this letter is, really, except to say that I think of you often, and hope you’re doing well on your journey, and I miss you, and hope you’ll come back to the palace some day.
Well, what do I do with this now? I don’t have an address to send it to, do I?
Stupid.
Stupid.
I guess I’ll put it in this enormous journal they gave me to sort my head out. It’s kind of comical really. I’ve got a tab for people, and one for places, and lists, and things I’m supposed to remember to do. I’m supposed to get up at 7:15 and write down any dreams I remember. And then I’m to take the yellow pill with breakfast and then check off that I took it. And then go for a walk and come back and write down everything that I remember seeing. And take the red pill at noon with lunch and check off that I took it. It goes on like that.
The whole thing weighs about ten pounds.
I dropped it on my foot this morning when I opened it. I may have broken my littlest toe, it’s a funny shade of purple. I think I will skip the walk this morning.
I might even go back to bed.
It’s a nice bed, I suppose - they decorated the place up very handsomely before we arrived and my quarters are rather embarrassingly opulent. The bed’s a four-poster, the size of a corn wagon practically, and there are carvings in the headboard that make me slightly nervous at night when the sconces are lit. I don’t have the heart to complain about it, though.
The only thing I really like about the room is the bedspread. It’s red, which is my favorite color, and very soft. It’s the only thing here that’s warm.
You know, I thought moving back to the Northern Palace would make everything all right again. That I’d remember things left and right in a great big surge. But honestly, I don’t. And everything they show me and tell me I ought to remember is one more heaping of salt on a wound, I wish they’d stop. I wish I could tell Lavenderise I don’t remember her stupid music box and if she plays it for me one more time I’m going to hurl it out a window.
Sorry.
I’ll have to put this in the fireplace now, won’t I?
Oh, well. Best place for it, I suppose.
~~~
Continue…
Title: The Red Bedspread
Pairing: Glitch/Raw
Rating: I’m aiming high, but we know how that usually ends up - flowery innuendo. Still, it may WILL get to an R down the road.
Prompt Table: Here.
Summary: Glitch’s changes in personality may be more than just shifting moods. Can Raw pull his friend together again before it’s too late?
A/N: Cheesy summary, sorry. Tune in for “As the O.Z. Turns”! Written for the forty word prompt table on magic4mula
Dear Raw,
I’ve been told that I was once quite the correspondent, but it’s taken me twenty minutes to come up with “Dear Raw” so apparently I’m rusty. I don’t know what the point of this letter is, really, except to say that I think of you often, and hope you’re doing well on your journey, and I miss you, and hope you’ll come back to the palace some day.
Well, what do I do with this now? I don’t have an address to send it to, do I?
Stupid.
Stupid.
I guess I’ll put it in this enormous journal they gave me to sort my head out. It’s kind of comical really. I’ve got a tab for people, and one for places, and lists, and things I’m supposed to remember to do. I’m supposed to get up at 7:15 and write down any dreams I remember. And then I’m to take the yellow pill with breakfast and then check off that I took it. And then go for a walk and come back and write down everything that I remember seeing. And take the red pill at noon with lunch and check off that I took it. It goes on like that.
The whole thing weighs about ten pounds.
I dropped it on my foot this morning when I opened it. I may have broken my littlest toe, it’s a funny shade of purple. I think I will skip the walk this morning.
I might even go back to bed.
It’s a nice bed, I suppose - they decorated the place up very handsomely before we arrived and my quarters are rather embarrassingly opulent. The bed’s a four-poster, the size of a corn wagon practically, and there are carvings in the headboard that make me slightly nervous at night when the sconces are lit. I don’t have the heart to complain about it, though.
The only thing I really like about the room is the bedspread. It’s red, which is my favorite color, and very soft. It’s the only thing here that’s warm.
You know, I thought moving back to the Northern Palace would make everything all right again. That I’d remember things left and right in a great big surge. But honestly, I don’t. And everything they show me and tell me I ought to remember is one more heaping of salt on a wound, I wish they’d stop. I wish I could tell Lavenderise I don’t remember her stupid music box and if she plays it for me one more time I’m going to hurl it out a window.
Sorry.
I’ll have to put this in the fireplace now, won’t I?
Oh, well. Best place for it, I suppose.
~~~
Continue…