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religieuse Part 1 - a TGOD story
for this story: the disabled main character faces a lot of thoughtless flack from his able-bodied friend, and they argue extensively.
this story is about Aesaelion, the modern heir to the Tathviel family curse, born from the false god Allegory. Aesaelion is on a lengthy journey to break the curse, and at this time, he has returned home to recover from a nasty revelation.
----
“Hey, Aes! I heard you were back in town.. Some good news, I’m hoping? But listen – Glum told me you seemed really – hahah, glum, actually, when she saw you from her window – and she sent me over with some of those little dudes you like – you know, the ones that look like priest hats or something with the goo inside? The – Rali, reli-- that doesn’t matter. I have pastry, things, and they’ve got your name all over them, so… so even if you don’t feel up to company, you could at least open up your door for those, ‘cuz I mean, there’s no point in wasting perfectly g--”
Aesaelion pulled his front door open with a harsh wrench of the knob, which stuttered and jerked from his hand when it ran right into the chain lock. He could see a long sliver of his friend, same leather jacket, same wispy hair and sleepless eyes – and more freckles. “Sully,” he said, voice dull and buzzy from waking up with phlegm-laden lungs. “I’m really not in the mood.” As he had tried to communicate prior to now by ignoring the previous fifteen minutes of knocking. By this point it could be called less ‘missing the hint,’ and more ‘active malfeasance.’
“That’s too bad, buddy! Because look at these lovely, glossy, absolutely delicious--” Sully held the open box up right into Aesaelion’s face, tilting it dangerously to squish in through the gap in the door, little pastry nuns sliding into each other – “Super – super cream filled, awesome, sugary, uhh-- guys! And they’re supposed to look like monks or something, right? And,” unbeknownst to Aesaelion, Sully had his foot in the door, a knobby hand holding onto the chain lock, “And, and, AND,” before you knew it, the chain lock was undone and Sully was all the way in his entry hall, crowding him backwards, hooking the door closed behind him with his shoe.
“Sully--- Sully-- dammit, you dick!”
Sully, with wild eyes and a toothsome grin that sang can’t believe I actually pulled that off leaned his back fully against the door, holding his box of pastries up like a waiter waiting to deliver.
“Listen, you can sulk at home all you need, Aes, but we’re not letting you do it without sugar. And, ideally, without talking to someone. You’ve been gone for four years, been five months since the last letter, and buddy, that means you are not creeping home under cover of night then sitting around alone about it.”
“So,” Sully said, plucking a nun out from among its cohort, “You can talk to me, your bestie-best-best friend, or to Glum, your best-bestie friend, or maybe to Ben or Ellie or whoever I don’t care it doesn’t matter that it be me, but. Like. If it is me, you know I’ll be fine just sitting around in your tiny kitchen playing crosswords for a million years until you’re ready. But you are gonna--”
A world-endingly-weary sigh was Aesaelion’s answer, and in the ensuing silence, Sully held the lone nun out to him. He took it.
Dark, matte icing. Generous smudged ruffles of buttercream. A behatted head on a wide, round body. He missed these things so much. He used to judge when he needed to finally go to the dentist by when these exact pastries, by this exact baker, made his teeth hurt too much to stand eating (a terrible strategy, by the by). Over the years, Glum had created a plethora of experiences, all sorts of tiny, nearly imperceptible...
this story is about Aesaelion, the modern heir to the Tathviel family curse, born from the false god Allegory. Aesaelion is on a lengthy journey to break the curse, and at this time, he has returned home to recover from a nasty revelation.
----
“Hey, Aes! I heard you were back in town.. Some good news, I’m hoping? But listen – Glum told me you seemed really – hahah, glum, actually, when she saw you from her window – and she sent me over with some of those little dudes you like – you know, the ones that look like priest hats or something with the goo inside? The – Rali, reli-- that doesn’t matter. I have pastry, things, and they’ve got your name all over them, so… so even if you don’t feel up to company, you could at least open up your door for those, ‘cuz I mean, there’s no point in wasting perfectly g--”
Aesaelion pulled his front door open with a harsh wrench of the knob, which stuttered and jerked from his hand when it ran right into the chain lock. He could see a long sliver of his friend, same leather jacket, same wispy hair and sleepless eyes – and more freckles. “Sully,” he said, voice dull and buzzy from waking up with phlegm-laden lungs. “I’m really not in the mood.” As he had tried to communicate prior to now by ignoring the previous fifteen minutes of knocking. By this point it could be called less ‘missing the hint,’ and more ‘active malfeasance.’
“That’s too bad, buddy! Because look at these lovely, glossy, absolutely delicious--” Sully held the open box up right into Aesaelion’s face, tilting it dangerously to squish in through the gap in the door, little pastry nuns sliding into each other – “Super – super cream filled, awesome, sugary, uhh-- guys! And they’re supposed to look like monks or something, right? And,” unbeknownst to Aesaelion, Sully had his foot in the door, a knobby hand holding onto the chain lock, “And, and, AND,” before you knew it, the chain lock was undone and Sully was all the way in his entry hall, crowding him backwards, hooking the door closed behind him with his shoe.
“Sully--- Sully-- dammit, you dick!”
Sully, with wild eyes and a toothsome grin that sang can’t believe I actually pulled that off leaned his back fully against the door, holding his box of pastries up like a waiter waiting to deliver.
“Listen, you can sulk at home all you need, Aes, but we’re not letting you do it without sugar. And, ideally, without talking to someone. You’ve been gone for four years, been five months since the last letter, and buddy, that means you are not creeping home under cover of night then sitting around alone about it.”
“So,” Sully said, plucking a nun out from among its cohort, “You can talk to me, your bestie-best-best friend, or to Glum, your best-bestie friend, or maybe to Ben or Ellie or whoever I don’t care it doesn’t matter that it be me, but. Like. If it is me, you know I’ll be fine just sitting around in your tiny kitchen playing crosswords for a million years until you’re ready. But you are gonna--”
A world-endingly-weary sigh was Aesaelion’s answer, and in the ensuing silence, Sully held the lone nun out to him. He took it.
Dark, matte icing. Generous smudged ruffles of buttercream. A behatted head on a wide, round body. He missed these things so much. He used to judge when he needed to finally go to the dentist by when these exact pastries, by this exact baker, made his teeth hurt too much to stand eating (a terrible strategy, by the by). Over the years, Glum had created a plethora of experiences, all sorts of tiny, nearly imperceptible...
