Drabble things
I asked some people on plurk to give me drabble prompts. Hopefully this entry will expand.
Yuki: Incompetent Morons
Schools always had that one troubled class. That group of students that everyone whispered about on the playground, who had bad marks and spent more time in detention than in the classroom. That class was one that had to be closely watched, carefully nurtured if they were to emerge one day from the place of learning victorious, with the knowledge they needed to face the world.
What better overseer for their education was there, then, than the girl in the Dressing Room who was most intimately acquainted with the workings of that greatest of occupation known as teaching? And so she accepted the challenge with a modest and determined demeanor, confident that she could turn the tide for those wayward souls.
Little had she comprehended the true enormity of the task she was undertaking.
After yet another long day of stopping some of the Kagamines from stealing that particularly sensitive Kaito’s ice cream and threatening him with the roadroller, separating the excessively vain Luka and equally vain Miku before their catfight resulted in early male-patterned baldness, convincing a Gumi that no, this Miki wasn’t an appropriately healthy snack, and forcing that one ridiculous claw and saw wielding maniac back into her barred and locked corner of the classroom, their fearless leader needed a break. She walked steadily into the teacher’s lounge, moving a chair to the counter so she could reach the top cabinet and remove a coffee mug.
A Haku, distracted from her reading by the entrance of the tiny educator, looked up and watched her poor the steaming coffee into her mug. She laughed a little at the absurdly silly look on the girl’s face.
“Hard day, Yuki-chan?”
Said teacher turned back to her with her usual deadpan, though it was ever so subtly accentuated with a furrowed brow and a frown.
“My class is full of incompetent morons.”
Haku really couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. Yuki ignored her, walking for the door without putting a thing in her coffee; she drank it black, like real warriors of bestowing knowledge.
Not even her talents might be enough to change them… but she would press bravely on!
Jack and Reki: Allergies
“I’mb dyinguuuh.”
“You’re not dying.”
“Yes I amb.”
“No you’re not.”
Before he could start whining again, Reki thrust a glass of orange juice at the pathetic wretch on the couch. Jack fumbled to grab it, causing the technopath to momentarily fear for the state of his furniture, but then it was held mostly stable in the teen’s hands. He looked distastefully at it for a second before sipping it.
“I feel awful,” he grumbled for the thirtieth time that day. Reki took the glass back from him, looking mostly unsympathetic.
“It’s probably just allergies. Bad allergies, but you’re not going to die from it.”
“I’ve never had allergies before,” he reasoned, snuggling further down on the couch. He pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and sniffed loudly, then sneezed into it and used the edge to wipe his nose. Reki grimaced and made a mental note to wear gloves when he went to wash it.
“It’s probably just some plants you haven’t had a lot of exposure to. You’ll be fine.”
“No. I’m dying.”
Reki gave an exasperated sigh and walked over into the apartment’s tiny kitchen. He returned a minute later with a pill, a thermometer, and the glass of orange juice.
“Allergy medicine,” he explained before Jack even asked. “Take it.”
He did with little fuss, which was all Reki could ask for. “Alright, here,” he said, holding the thermometer out.
Jack eyed it suspiciously. “It goes in my mooouuuth… right?”
Reki rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jack, it’s an oral thermometer. Just take it.”
He sat up on the couch and took the thermometer, looking very grumpy about the whole thing. The good thing about it, Reki thought, was that he couldn’t use words to express that grumpiness.
When his time was up, Reki held the thermometer up to the light. Just over one hundred degrees.
He held it back out to Jack. “Does that look like ‘dying’ to you?”
Jack barely glanced at it. “Yes.”
Reki’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to gripe at the redhead, when something occurred to him and he shrugged. “Okay, I guess I’ll just have to take you to the hospital then.”
Jack made a strangled sort of protest that was cut off by a round of high-pitched sneezes that Reki couldn’t help but laugh at. He smiled apologetically when Jack glared at him.
“One hundred doesn’t mean you’re dying, but it does mean you should get some rest.” Reki pushed him lightly back down on the couch. “Go to sleep.”
Jack muttered something about not telling him what to do, but after a few minutes he was curled back up under the blankets, asleep, mouth hanging open. Reki wondered how long he had before the kid started drooling.
Reki set the glass of orange juice and the bottle of allergy pills on the table next to the couch, then went back to getting ready for work. When he stopped to check on his charge on his way out, he found that Jack had rolled over in his sleep, kicking off his blanket. Reki moved it back up around his shoulders.
…
It was only four days later, but Jack was already looking well again. He was playing video games on his handheld when Reki walked in, loaded down with Chinese takeout, and the slight flush that had been on his skin the last few days was gone.
“Hey,” he greeted, jumping up to help Reki carry the food in. Reki gladly relinquished it, sinking down on the couch and leaning his head back.
“So today I was… uh… Reki, are you okay?” Jack’s story cut off almost immediately when he walked back in, looking down at his mentor in concern.
Reki stared up at the ceiling, saying in a flat monotone, “I don’t think what you had was allergies.”
“Huh? How do you know?”
The blonde reached up and pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose, to try and calm his pounding head as well as fight off the sneeze he could feel coming. “Because now I’m the one who’s dying.”
Jack stared at him for a second, then hurried back into the kitchen. “I’ll get the orange juice.”
Yuki: Incompetent Morons
Schools always had that one troubled class. That group of students that everyone whispered about on the playground, who had bad marks and spent more time in detention than in the classroom. That class was one that had to be closely watched, carefully nurtured if they were to emerge one day from the place of learning victorious, with the knowledge they needed to face the world.
What better overseer for their education was there, then, than the girl in the Dressing Room who was most intimately acquainted with the workings of that greatest of occupation known as teaching? And so she accepted the challenge with a modest and determined demeanor, confident that she could turn the tide for those wayward souls.
Little had she comprehended the true enormity of the task she was undertaking.
After yet another long day of stopping some of the Kagamines from stealing that particularly sensitive Kaito’s ice cream and threatening him with the roadroller, separating the excessively vain Luka and equally vain Miku before their catfight resulted in early male-patterned baldness, convincing a Gumi that no, this Miki wasn’t an appropriately healthy snack, and forcing that one ridiculous claw and saw wielding maniac back into her barred and locked corner of the classroom, their fearless leader needed a break. She walked steadily into the teacher’s lounge, moving a chair to the counter so she could reach the top cabinet and remove a coffee mug.
A Haku, distracted from her reading by the entrance of the tiny educator, looked up and watched her poor the steaming coffee into her mug. She laughed a little at the absurdly silly look on the girl’s face.
“Hard day, Yuki-chan?”
Said teacher turned back to her with her usual deadpan, though it was ever so subtly accentuated with a furrowed brow and a frown.
“My class is full of incompetent morons.”
Haku really couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing. Yuki ignored her, walking for the door without putting a thing in her coffee; she drank it black, like real warriors of bestowing knowledge.
Not even her talents might be enough to change them… but she would press bravely on!
Jack and Reki: Allergies
“I’mb dyinguuuh.”
“You’re not dying.”
“Yes I amb.”
“No you’re not.”
Before he could start whining again, Reki thrust a glass of orange juice at the pathetic wretch on the couch. Jack fumbled to grab it, causing the technopath to momentarily fear for the state of his furniture, but then it was held mostly stable in the teen’s hands. He looked distastefully at it for a second before sipping it.
“I feel awful,” he grumbled for the thirtieth time that day. Reki took the glass back from him, looking mostly unsympathetic.
“It’s probably just allergies. Bad allergies, but you’re not going to die from it.”
“I’ve never had allergies before,” he reasoned, snuggling further down on the couch. He pulled the blanket up around his shoulders and sniffed loudly, then sneezed into it and used the edge to wipe his nose. Reki grimaced and made a mental note to wear gloves when he went to wash it.
“It’s probably just some plants you haven’t had a lot of exposure to. You’ll be fine.”
“No. I’m dying.”
Reki gave an exasperated sigh and walked over into the apartment’s tiny kitchen. He returned a minute later with a pill, a thermometer, and the glass of orange juice.
“Allergy medicine,” he explained before Jack even asked. “Take it.”
He did with little fuss, which was all Reki could ask for. “Alright, here,” he said, holding the thermometer out.
Jack eyed it suspiciously. “It goes in my mooouuuth… right?”
Reki rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jack, it’s an oral thermometer. Just take it.”
He sat up on the couch and took the thermometer, looking very grumpy about the whole thing. The good thing about it, Reki thought, was that he couldn’t use words to express that grumpiness.
When his time was up, Reki held the thermometer up to the light. Just over one hundred degrees.
He held it back out to Jack. “Does that look like ‘dying’ to you?”
Jack barely glanced at it. “Yes.”
Reki’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to gripe at the redhead, when something occurred to him and he shrugged. “Okay, I guess I’ll just have to take you to the hospital then.”
Jack made a strangled sort of protest that was cut off by a round of high-pitched sneezes that Reki couldn’t help but laugh at. He smiled apologetically when Jack glared at him.
“One hundred doesn’t mean you’re dying, but it does mean you should get some rest.” Reki pushed him lightly back down on the couch. “Go to sleep.”
Jack muttered something about not telling him what to do, but after a few minutes he was curled back up under the blankets, asleep, mouth hanging open. Reki wondered how long he had before the kid started drooling.
Reki set the glass of orange juice and the bottle of allergy pills on the table next to the couch, then went back to getting ready for work. When he stopped to check on his charge on his way out, he found that Jack had rolled over in his sleep, kicking off his blanket. Reki moved it back up around his shoulders.
…
It was only four days later, but Jack was already looking well again. He was playing video games on his handheld when Reki walked in, loaded down with Chinese takeout, and the slight flush that had been on his skin the last few days was gone.
“Hey,” he greeted, jumping up to help Reki carry the food in. Reki gladly relinquished it, sinking down on the couch and leaning his head back.
“So today I was… uh… Reki, are you okay?” Jack’s story cut off almost immediately when he walked back in, looking down at his mentor in concern.
Reki stared up at the ceiling, saying in a flat monotone, “I don’t think what you had was allergies.”
“Huh? How do you know?”
The blonde reached up and pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose, to try and calm his pounding head as well as fight off the sneeze he could feel coming. “Because now I’m the one who’s dying.”
Jack stared at him for a second, then hurried back into the kitchen. “I’ll get the orange juice.”