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mercyrobotThis is what happens when I'm extremely stalled and uninspired on what the Epic Epic needs to be doing with this one bit I've changed. I hit the random word button on the online OED a bunch of times till I came up with 20 words. Anything with a first use after 1930 was skipped, as were proper names and technical terms, but otherwise I took whatever it threw at me.
They're too long to be drabbles and too fragmentary to be ficlets. Therefore they are fraglets.
It's probably apparent from reading them, but they're not in the least meant to be related.
Also, are there any fannish twitterers? 'Cause right now it just looks like I'm stalking Stephen Fry. (This is the bit where I breathe noisily through my retainer, snort while laughing, and say 'will you be my friend?') I'm @missmercyb as some jerkface took my preferred username and had the almighty gall not to post squat once he had.
Dictionary Fraglets 1-2/20: scandal, list
PG rated at the very very most.
Candyfloss warning for both, I think! Mind the dental work!
Scandal
"This is it, Jeeves. We're done for. Aunt Agatha knows."
I stiffened. "Knows?" I held my breath in hope of some misunderstanding.
"Knows." Ber-- no. Mr Wooster-- as he would be now, as he would have stayed if not for my weak folly, as he should have stayed-- sagged dejectedly against the edge of the kitchen table. "I've got three days to get myself engaged to a girl of her choosing and go through with it or she'll have me locked up. I don't like to think where." He turned red-shot and swollen eyes on me, his lower lip trembling. "I don't think even you can get us out of this one, old thing," he said with a sigh.
I longed to embrace him, to whisper words of comfort and assurance, but they were no longer mine to give. I knew what I must do. "Very good, sir," I said, and I will credit myself that I did not choke on the words, even as they visibly stung him. I moved past him and into my quarters, where I retrieved the suitcases from beneath the bed.
A clattering of footsteps followed me after a moment. "Jeeves! What are you doing?"
"Packing, sir," I said without turning to face him, for I could not bear to. "While Mrs Gregson has good reason to keep any gossip about you at bay, she has no such incentive with me once you are safely married. It would be best if I leave the country immediately."
"So that's it, then? You'll just be off to the four winds?"
"It is the most prudent course of action to avoid imprisonment, sir."
"Where will you go?" He sounded so small and sad that I did turn, to find that he looked it as well. He was a hunched figure in the doorway, arms wrapped round himself, the usual bright spark that I so loved about him departed for parts unknown.
"I believe France will serve the purpose well enough."
"I liked France," he said, looking into the distance as if he could see it. "Do you remember that little cottage on the side of the mountain, with the blackberry patch and the corking sunsets?"
"Most vividly," I answered. My voice caught.
"You can't be arrested if you go to France? Or locked up at all?"
"It would be unlikely."
"Then I can't be either, can I?" He crossed the space between us, wrenched away the shirt I'd been folding, and caught me round the waist. "We'd be safe there, what?" The hope in his smile was heartbreaking. I had hoped to spare myself the pain of testing him thus, testing the strength of what was between us for fear of finding it lacking on his end.
"You could not return to England in your aunt's lifetime, possibly ever, sir. It would mean leaving your family, your friends, your home--"
I was interrupted by a tight squeeze and a murmur into the side of my neck: "You silly ass, you're my home."
List
The misunderstanding understood and all the loose ends tied in neat little bows, self and Jeeves settled in at home to enjoy what should've been a triumphant b. and s. I say should have been because when I say all loose ends, I mean all l. e. save one.
"I can't help but wonder, Jeeves," I said after a thoughtful draught. "Not that I'm not tickled pink you never had the smallest intention of running off with Reynolds, but one does wonder. I mean to say, from where I'm sitting-- not this bit of chesterfield, but rather metaphorically-- he's got everything I haven't. The chiselled profile, the clever conversation, the cadre-- if that's the word I want-- of admiring intelligentsia. Why over all that you'd chooose a chap you yourself have called mentally negligible--"
I think he was about to argue, but I put up a hand to stop him. "I know you've explained about that, but it doesn't make it any less true. I can't tell Spinoza from Spindrift and I'm not much to look at besides. I'll hasten to repeat I'm not complaining, but it's a bit beyond me why you would set your formidable cap sat such a specimen as myself."
"Would you like a list?" Jeeves asked, and I have to say, he seemed vaguely amused.
"If the thing lends itself to one, I suppose I would."
"The simplest explanation is that my heart chose for me." Words like that from him have the habit of making Woosters-- or at least this one-- go a bit tingly and pink all over. "But as to why it did-- I could cite your kind and generous nature, your optimism, your humour." Here he paused to turn my pinked and tingling face upwards and apply a short-but-sweet press of l. to l.
"The way that kissing you feels as natural and necessary as breathing. Your singular ability to make me forget myself. And whatever faults you may find in a mirror, I believe you are a great deal indeed to look at, Bertram. One such as Reynolds may possess qualities that you lack, but you make up what I lack. To make a summation, you complete me."
"Oh," I said, moved rather beyond words with more syllables, "right ho."
With that, Jeeves pried the glass from my mitts and gave them and many other parts better things to do.
They're too long to be drabbles and too fragmentary to be ficlets. Therefore they are fraglets.
It's probably apparent from reading them, but they're not in the least meant to be related.
Also, are there any fannish twitterers? 'Cause right now it just looks like I'm stalking Stephen Fry. (This is the bit where I breathe noisily through my retainer, snort while laughing, and say 'will you be my friend?') I'm @missmercyb as some jerkface took my preferred username and had the almighty gall not to post squat once he had.
Dictionary Fraglets 1-2/20: scandal, list
PG rated at the very very most.
Candyfloss warning for both, I think! Mind the dental work!
Scandal
"This is it, Jeeves. We're done for. Aunt Agatha knows."
I stiffened. "Knows?" I held my breath in hope of some misunderstanding.
"Knows." Ber-- no. Mr Wooster-- as he would be now, as he would have stayed if not for my weak folly, as he should have stayed-- sagged dejectedly against the edge of the kitchen table. "I've got three days to get myself engaged to a girl of her choosing and go through with it or she'll have me locked up. I don't like to think where." He turned red-shot and swollen eyes on me, his lower lip trembling. "I don't think even you can get us out of this one, old thing," he said with a sigh.
I longed to embrace him, to whisper words of comfort and assurance, but they were no longer mine to give. I knew what I must do. "Very good, sir," I said, and I will credit myself that I did not choke on the words, even as they visibly stung him. I moved past him and into my quarters, where I retrieved the suitcases from beneath the bed.
A clattering of footsteps followed me after a moment. "Jeeves! What are you doing?"
"Packing, sir," I said without turning to face him, for I could not bear to. "While Mrs Gregson has good reason to keep any gossip about you at bay, she has no such incentive with me once you are safely married. It would be best if I leave the country immediately."
"So that's it, then? You'll just be off to the four winds?"
"It is the most prudent course of action to avoid imprisonment, sir."
"Where will you go?" He sounded so small and sad that I did turn, to find that he looked it as well. He was a hunched figure in the doorway, arms wrapped round himself, the usual bright spark that I so loved about him departed for parts unknown.
"I believe France will serve the purpose well enough."
"I liked France," he said, looking into the distance as if he could see it. "Do you remember that little cottage on the side of the mountain, with the blackberry patch and the corking sunsets?"
"Most vividly," I answered. My voice caught.
"You can't be arrested if you go to France? Or locked up at all?"
"It would be unlikely."
"Then I can't be either, can I?" He crossed the space between us, wrenched away the shirt I'd been folding, and caught me round the waist. "We'd be safe there, what?" The hope in his smile was heartbreaking. I had hoped to spare myself the pain of testing him thus, testing the strength of what was between us for fear of finding it lacking on his end.
"You could not return to England in your aunt's lifetime, possibly ever, sir. It would mean leaving your family, your friends, your home--"
I was interrupted by a tight squeeze and a murmur into the side of my neck: "You silly ass, you're my home."
List
The misunderstanding understood and all the loose ends tied in neat little bows, self and Jeeves settled in at home to enjoy what should've been a triumphant b. and s. I say should have been because when I say all loose ends, I mean all l. e. save one.
"I can't help but wonder, Jeeves," I said after a thoughtful draught. "Not that I'm not tickled pink you never had the smallest intention of running off with Reynolds, but one does wonder. I mean to say, from where I'm sitting-- not this bit of chesterfield, but rather metaphorically-- he's got everything I haven't. The chiselled profile, the clever conversation, the cadre-- if that's the word I want-- of admiring intelligentsia. Why over all that you'd chooose a chap you yourself have called mentally negligible--"
I think he was about to argue, but I put up a hand to stop him. "I know you've explained about that, but it doesn't make it any less true. I can't tell Spinoza from Spindrift and I'm not much to look at besides. I'll hasten to repeat I'm not complaining, but it's a bit beyond me why you would set your formidable cap sat such a specimen as myself."
"Would you like a list?" Jeeves asked, and I have to say, he seemed vaguely amused.
"If the thing lends itself to one, I suppose I would."
"The simplest explanation is that my heart chose for me." Words like that from him have the habit of making Woosters-- or at least this one-- go a bit tingly and pink all over. "But as to why it did-- I could cite your kind and generous nature, your optimism, your humour." Here he paused to turn my pinked and tingling face upwards and apply a short-but-sweet press of l. to l.
"The way that kissing you feels as natural and necessary as breathing. Your singular ability to make me forget myself. And whatever faults you may find in a mirror, I believe you are a great deal indeed to look at, Bertram. One such as Reynolds may possess qualities that you lack, but you make up what I lack. To make a summation, you complete me."
"Oh," I said, moved rather beyond words with more syllables, "right ho."
With that, Jeeves pried the glass from my mitts and gave them and many other parts better things to do.
