Post by serah on Apr 25, 2011 19:45:44 GMT -5
Dedicated to the little hornet I ended up killing this morning despite how terrified I was and to you guys. This is part one of I don't know how many, but I hope you enjoy it!
I
The dainty blonde who lived in apartment 204 woke up to something quite unpleasant. It was small, striped yellow and black, and struck terror into the hearts of every living being on the planet Earth.
It was a hornet.
The little girl attempted to find reason why she might be imagining these things. It was about 8 AM, and she had just woken up. It was way too early in the season to have hornets already. How did it get in her apartment, anyways? Looking around for cracks in her lavish apartment (it was extravagant, really; the pay for rent was pretty low) her paranoia increased when she found none. She started to panic, and she had no idea where that thing you hit bugs with (she had no idea what it was called) was. Opening all the cabinets (those were far away from the terrifying object, thank you Lord), she finally found it in the cabinet on the far left with the cleaning supplies, the place she rarely ever touched because she had no need to. Taking the dirty thing in hand, she stared at the thing, which only moved lethargically in response. It made the petite girl terrified, and holding in a shriek, she did what any person would do in these conditions.
“J-Joshua?”
“What, Florence.” The teen stated flatly, obviously not in the mood to deal with the little princess. Well, in all actuality, he probably never was, since he found her useless and whatnot. He was one room down from Florence, and was still in his PJ’s, from somewhere that Florence never shopped only because it was mainly for men, but it was just as expensive as her own clothing. He lived with his foster father, Mr. Hanekoma, who was by this time out and working his coffee shop. The girl stood in the door frame, the boy a few feet away, his eyes staring down at her somewhat coldly.
“There’s a ho-hornet in my room,” Florence explained, giving him big, tired and sleepy eyes. The boy just looked at her wearily. “I don’t kill bugs. I’m not your babysitter,” he said, starting to shut the door. “Go ask Zexion.” And with that, the door was shut, leaving Florence to panic again. What if the hornet was flying around again? She had to go ask Zexion.
Zexion was a teen just out of high school, with an odd manner of speaking that was familiar to Florence. He lived across the hall from Florence, and wasn’t a morning person. She hoped that he might be able to kill the dangerous creature, and that he wouldn’t be too mean about it. He liked books, right? She could give him one of the many books her family owned as repayment. She didn’t want to wake him, but as she knocked on the door, she attempted to forget that he hated being woken up before 10.
On the other side of the door was a moan as the male got out of bed, and another moan as well by another male, presumably. It was considered by most people on this floor that Zexion was homosexual, and the person who came to the door was not Zexion, but a small boy, about twelve, dressed in very formal clothing. He looked up and down at Florence, then commented something along the lines of “I didn’t know he liked girls” and went straight past her and down the hall, leaving the building. Leaving it be, she looked inside the room. “Zexion?” she asked the room that was covered in darkness. “Florence? What do you need so early, little girl? I hope it’s important for so rudely waking up myself and my guest,” he spoke regally, as if he was the king of this floor. Turning on the lights, she saw a darkly clothed body moving around slowly (with a bad case of bed head, she might add) towards her, standing only a bit taller than her. She repeated her story to Zexion, who seemed to take more consideration before responding.
“No, I will not kill it for you. Now, get out and on your way.” He stated before pushing her out the door and shutting it behind her. Now, who was going to help her? Florence started to despair as a woman passed by her with a mug of coffee. Florence barely recognized her as the woman known as Akira, who lived with Scara a few doors down. Akira was known for having a bad temper, and Florence stepped out of her way. Akira stopped and looked at the girl.
“Why did you leave your door open?” Akira asked sleepily, taking a drink out of her mug and looking at the girl with her red eyes. Despite her appearance, she was quite motherly, and Florence couldn’t help but tell her of her dilemma. Akira looked at her, looked at the room, and looked back at Florence. “Ask me later, kid,” she said as she yawned and returned to her own room.
Why was getting someone to kill a hornet so hard? Florence had no clue.
Flyswatter
I
The dainty blonde who lived in apartment 204 woke up to something quite unpleasant. It was small, striped yellow and black, and struck terror into the hearts of every living being on the planet Earth.
It was a hornet.
The little girl attempted to find reason why she might be imagining these things. It was about 8 AM, and she had just woken up. It was way too early in the season to have hornets already. How did it get in her apartment, anyways? Looking around for cracks in her lavish apartment (it was extravagant, really; the pay for rent was pretty low) her paranoia increased when she found none. She started to panic, and she had no idea where that thing you hit bugs with (she had no idea what it was called) was. Opening all the cabinets (those were far away from the terrifying object, thank you Lord), she finally found it in the cabinet on the far left with the cleaning supplies, the place she rarely ever touched because she had no need to. Taking the dirty thing in hand, she stared at the thing, which only moved lethargically in response. It made the petite girl terrified, and holding in a shriek, she did what any person would do in these conditions.
“J-Joshua?”
“What, Florence.” The teen stated flatly, obviously not in the mood to deal with the little princess. Well, in all actuality, he probably never was, since he found her useless and whatnot. He was one room down from Florence, and was still in his PJ’s, from somewhere that Florence never shopped only because it was mainly for men, but it was just as expensive as her own clothing. He lived with his foster father, Mr. Hanekoma, who was by this time out and working his coffee shop. The girl stood in the door frame, the boy a few feet away, his eyes staring down at her somewhat coldly.
“There’s a ho-hornet in my room,” Florence explained, giving him big, tired and sleepy eyes. The boy just looked at her wearily. “I don’t kill bugs. I’m not your babysitter,” he said, starting to shut the door. “Go ask Zexion.” And with that, the door was shut, leaving Florence to panic again. What if the hornet was flying around again? She had to go ask Zexion.
Zexion was a teen just out of high school, with an odd manner of speaking that was familiar to Florence. He lived across the hall from Florence, and wasn’t a morning person. She hoped that he might be able to kill the dangerous creature, and that he wouldn’t be too mean about it. He liked books, right? She could give him one of the many books her family owned as repayment. She didn’t want to wake him, but as she knocked on the door, she attempted to forget that he hated being woken up before 10.
On the other side of the door was a moan as the male got out of bed, and another moan as well by another male, presumably. It was considered by most people on this floor that Zexion was homosexual, and the person who came to the door was not Zexion, but a small boy, about twelve, dressed in very formal clothing. He looked up and down at Florence, then commented something along the lines of “I didn’t know he liked girls” and went straight past her and down the hall, leaving the building. Leaving it be, she looked inside the room. “Zexion?” she asked the room that was covered in darkness. “Florence? What do you need so early, little girl? I hope it’s important for so rudely waking up myself and my guest,” he spoke regally, as if he was the king of this floor. Turning on the lights, she saw a darkly clothed body moving around slowly (with a bad case of bed head, she might add) towards her, standing only a bit taller than her. She repeated her story to Zexion, who seemed to take more consideration before responding.
“No, I will not kill it for you. Now, get out and on your way.” He stated before pushing her out the door and shutting it behind her. Now, who was going to help her? Florence started to despair as a woman passed by her with a mug of coffee. Florence barely recognized her as the woman known as Akira, who lived with Scara a few doors down. Akira was known for having a bad temper, and Florence stepped out of her way. Akira stopped and looked at the girl.
“Why did you leave your door open?” Akira asked sleepily, taking a drink out of her mug and looking at the girl with her red eyes. Despite her appearance, she was quite motherly, and Florence couldn’t help but tell her of her dilemma. Akira looked at her, looked at the room, and looked back at Florence. “Ask me later, kid,” she said as she yawned and returned to her own room.
Why was getting someone to kill a hornet so hard? Florence had no clue.