cookies 'n' cream with malt and fresh peaches
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: A Class In Bad Timing
Rating: G
Challenge: Cookies ‘n’ Cream #9: wait
Toppings/Extras: malt, fresh peaches
Wordcount: 345
Summary: Cooper Braun is not a lucky man.
Notes: Today’s fresh peaches threw this into my mind, haha. BTS PFAH: no telling what will happen when Cooper and Adele get together. Peaches: With the moon conjunct to Jupiter tonight, expect enjoyable visits, pleasant conversation, and possibly a happy surprise.
The waiting was the worst. Cooper had been shackled to the smallest mast for about an hour now, watching miserably as the Kraken continued on its journey. Nobody had spoken to him-he was merely a stray captive along with Francis, who had quickly been taken away. Sucking in the sea air, the bronze-haired boy shuffled his feet and wallowed in failure.
He had no idea how much time had passed when the so-called captain of the ship suddenly sprang up next to him. Cooper nearly had a heart attack. The captain was a bizarre creature, dressed in a mishmash of new and old, and naturally born with very strange features. His eyes were the craziest things that Cooper had ever seen: disproportionately large, giving the impression that the man was permanently startled. The mass of curly hair didn’t help much either.
“Alright, laddie?” he asked, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Er,” Cooper responded inelegantly.
“I’m Captain Jacob Graham,” the captain said with a wave of one richly tanned arm, indicating himself rather needlessly. “Do yer want to see who yer interrogator is goin’ ter be?”
Cooper didn’t get the feeling he had much of a choice.
“OK…”
Graham gripped him by the head and twisted it to the side.
“Do you see that woman?”
Did he ever. She looked like a James Bond villainess. Gleaming brown hair was swept back tightly from her face, giving no soft frame to its already angular features. She was wearing some sort of dominatrix’s version of a business suit, funeral black, cinched at the waist and cut sharp as a pin.
Her glare was almost as frightening as the iron poker held in one of her hands, which was lined with fingernails painted dark violet.
“Oh, God,” Cooper muttered.
“And guess what?” Graham asked, leaning closer to him with a slightly sympathetic smile on his face. Cooper didn’t even have the nerve to guess, so he said nothing as the sea captain leaned closer and said right into his ear: “She’s just been dumped by her boyfriend.”
Title: A Class In Bad Timing
Rating: G
Challenge: Cookies ‘n’ Cream #9: wait
Toppings/Extras: malt, fresh peaches
Wordcount: 345
Summary: Cooper Braun is not a lucky man.
Notes: Today’s fresh peaches threw this into my mind, haha. BTS PFAH: no telling what will happen when Cooper and Adele get together. Peaches: With the moon conjunct to Jupiter tonight, expect enjoyable visits, pleasant conversation, and possibly a happy surprise.
The waiting was the worst. Cooper had been shackled to the smallest mast for about an hour now, watching miserably as the Kraken continued on its journey. Nobody had spoken to him-he was merely a stray captive along with Francis, who had quickly been taken away. Sucking in the sea air, the bronze-haired boy shuffled his feet and wallowed in failure.
He had no idea how much time had passed when the so-called captain of the ship suddenly sprang up next to him. Cooper nearly had a heart attack. The captain was a bizarre creature, dressed in a mishmash of new and old, and naturally born with very strange features. His eyes were the craziest things that Cooper had ever seen: disproportionately large, giving the impression that the man was permanently startled. The mass of curly hair didn’t help much either.
“Alright, laddie?” he asked, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Er,” Cooper responded inelegantly.
“I’m Captain Jacob Graham,” the captain said with a wave of one richly tanned arm, indicating himself rather needlessly. “Do yer want to see who yer interrogator is goin’ ter be?”
Cooper didn’t get the feeling he had much of a choice.
“OK…”
Graham gripped him by the head and twisted it to the side.
“Do you see that woman?”
Did he ever. She looked like a James Bond villainess. Gleaming brown hair was swept back tightly from her face, giving no soft frame to its already angular features. She was wearing some sort of dominatrix’s version of a business suit, funeral black, cinched at the waist and cut sharp as a pin.
Her glare was almost as frightening as the iron poker held in one of her hands, which was lined with fingernails painted dark violet.
“Oh, God,” Cooper muttered.
“And guess what?” Graham asked, leaning closer to him with a slightly sympathetic smile on his face. Cooper didn’t even have the nerve to guess, so he said nothing as the sea captain leaned closer and said right into his ear: “She’s just been dumped by her boyfriend.”