Brown
Title: Brown
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: Table 4/43. Angel
Character/Pairing: Raia Guthrie, Angel Starsmore
Rating: PG
Word Count: 233
Summary: In which Raia laments the color of her wings.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!
Raia stood in front of the full length mirror, wings spread as much as the room would allow, twisting this way and that. Angel slicked a pencil across the room, where it bounced off the other girl’s back and fell to the floor. “Stop preening, you overgrown canary.”
“They’re brown,” Raia muttered sullenly, flapping her wings slowly, rustling the pages of Angel’s homework.
“Yeah, I know. You shed the bloody feathers all over the place. Stop it.”
“Maybe I could dye the feathers…” she muttered, bringing one wing around to peer at the dark feathers.
“Not in here, you’re not.”
“Or maybe bleach them?” Raia went on as if Angel hadn’t spoken. “Go for the white angelic look?” She turned to look at her roommate. “It’d be nicely dramatic, right?”
“You’d look like a moron,” Angel replied distractedly. “And you’re not bleaching your wings in here, either. They look fine, stop fussing.”
“But they’re brown!”
“You keep saying that like it’s a bad thing. Y’look like a punk rock angel, yer gorgeous, if I was a bloke I’d snog you, yadda yadda.”
“Really?” Raia flopped down on the bed, posing.”
“Stop it, canary.”
Author: dorksidefiker
Fandom: That Damn Mpreg
Table/Prompt: Table 4/43. Angel
Character/Pairing: Raia Guthrie, Angel Starsmore
Rating: PG
Word Count: 233
Summary: In which Raia laments the color of her wings.
Authors Notes/Disclaimer: Mine!
Raia stood in front of the full length mirror, wings spread as much as the room would allow, twisting this way and that. Angel slicked a pencil across the room, where it bounced off the other girl’s back and fell to the floor. “Stop preening, you overgrown canary.”
“They’re brown,” Raia muttered sullenly, flapping her wings slowly, rustling the pages of Angel’s homework.
“Yeah, I know. You shed the bloody feathers all over the place. Stop it.”
“Maybe I could dye the feathers…” she muttered, bringing one wing around to peer at the dark feathers.
“Not in here, you’re not.”
“Or maybe bleach them?” Raia went on as if Angel hadn’t spoken. “Go for the white angelic look?” She turned to look at her roommate. “It’d be nicely dramatic, right?”
“You’d look like a moron,” Angel replied distractedly. “And you’re not bleaching your wings in here, either. They look fine, stop fussing.”
“But they’re brown!”
“You keep saying that like it’s a bad thing. Y’look like a punk rock angel, yer gorgeous, if I was a bloke I’d snog you, yadda yadda.”
“Really?” Raia flopped down on the bed, posing.”
“Stop it, canary.”