Malt Challenge 4/30
Cinnamon Swirl #6. By the Book
with Hot Fudge, Whipped Cream, and Malt
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1248
Word Count : 1048
Malt Prompt : 12 Days - 6 Pounds of Potatoes
Malt Prompt : PfaH - Sethan - Now watch as I impersonate a cactus
“Potatoes?” said Sethan, and the tone really didn’t require the smirk that went with it.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be potatoes exactly,” Kairn said, withdrawing the book he’d had open under his friend’s nose. “I mean, that’s just the page it’s on. It could be carrots, or squash. Strawberries even.”
Sprawled in the grass, all oddly placed elbows and knees, Sethan continued to regard him with a mix of disbelief and amusement. Kairn returned the book to his pocket, shoved a hand through his hair. “What’s so silly about a vegetable garden anyway?”
Sethan shrugged, frowned, and wrinkled his nose. Kairn took an instinctive step back as the handkerchief cleared his pocket. Standing too close to a sick Sethan was like standing close to an armed explosive. Sethan put the cloth to his nose and blew and the faint zap that hit him in the toes sent Kairn back another step.
“We could plant herbs too, you know,” he said, and Sethan shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. “Cold remedies?”
The smirk retuned as Sethan shook his head. “Give it here.”
Kairn’s hand closed over the book and he took one cautious step forward. He drew to a quick stop at another twitch of Sethan’s nose and found he was holding his breath as Sethan waved him closer. Six inches or six feet, it wasn’t as if the blast wasn’t going to hit him when it came. Kairn shrugged and plopped on the ground beside him.
“Here,” he said, retrieving the book and opening it back up to the page with the little sketch of potatoes at the top. He poked at the forms inscribed beneath. “It’s sort of life and death on top of each other. And all these leafy strokes, but I suppose that’s because they’re potatoes.“
Sethan was frowning at the book. He reached out a boney hand to flip the page and gave the next one a glance. There were similar forms there, beneath a doodle of some beans. “Life and death?” he said, thoughtfully.
“I know. Strange, huh? But I figured if anyone could pull it off, it would be you. And it might be interesting to see.”
Sethan sniffed.
“But, you know,” Kairn made to pull back the book again, “if you don’t want to, I mean, they’re only potatoes. I understand.”
He whisked his hand back as Sethan snatched the book from his grasp, and rocked back in the grass as he thumbed through the pages.
“So, did you bring one?” said Sethan, eyes trained on the text.
“Hmm?”
“A potato.”
“Well, yes,” said Kairn. He felt about in his pocket for it and frowned. “We’re not going to plant it here, are we?”
Sethan shrugged. “Why not?” He held out a palm and, when Kairn did not quickly produce the potato, gave him a look. “I thought you wanted to see this.”
“There are better places for it,” said Kairn, handing over the potato anyway.
Sethan waved him off. He turned the potato over a time or two, thoughtfully, and Kairn flinched at another loud sniffle. He reached into a pocket to feel about. Kairn tensed, expecting another handkerchief and another jolt. Instead, Sethan brought out a pocket knife. He flipped it open, one handed, and set to carving into the potato.
“Ah, Sethan…”
“Hmm?” said Sethan, eyes flitting between the book open in his hand and the potato.
“I think you’re supposed to draw the forms on the ground.”
He paused, the tip of the blade still lodged in the potato, to fix him with a look that scarcely needed the words that accompanied it. “You’re welcome to do this yourself, you know.”
Kairn scowled but held his tongue. Sethan returned to his carving, stopping now and then to turn the potato a bit or frown at the page, while Kairn picked at the grass and tried not to feel useless.
At last he set the potato, crisscrossed with lines, down on the ground, snapped the knife shut, and wiped his hands on his pants. “Interesting combination,” he said. “Life and death. I wonder what that might do to animal matter.”
Kairn grimaced. “Can we stick with potatoes for now?”
Fingers carefully placed along the edge of the tiny sigils, Sethan nodded. “Where did you get this book from anyway?”
“Berwyk lent it to me.”
Sethan looked up, one brow quirked. “Berwyk’s lending you books now?”
“It’s not that unthinkable, is it?”
Sethan jerked his hands away from the lines as what might have been a laugh quickly degenerated into a bout of coughing. The grass around them lurched a half inch higher.
“Should I maybe be the one to activate-” Kairn reached for the potato, but Sethan waved him off. He gingerly laid his hands back around the tiny lines, and Kairn found himself holding his breath
He didn’t even hear the sneeze when it came. The pop of the spell drowned it out. He did see Sethan’s shoulders jerk amidst the flash of light that shot from the sigil. From the lone potato sprang a clump of roots and another potato and another. The roots curled over themselves, tangling together, spilling out over the ground. A stem emerged, leaves snapping open like little sails unfurling.
The roots continued their mad climb over one another, sprouting potato after potato in their midst, until there was a sizeble pile before them. The initial snap that rang in Kairn’s ears gave way to a string of oaths Sethan was muttering. He pried his gaze from the mess to find his friend covered in even more roots. They curled up his arms, long stringy things, with little potatoes dangling along the way. A little shoot of green stood up on one of his shoulders.
Sethan caught him looking and frowned at him. “Well, it works,” he said.
“I told you I should invoke the thing,” said Kairn, fighting hard not to laugh. “You’re not reliable when you’re sick.” He chose to ignore the gesture then aimed his way, however ridiculous it looked connected to an arm with potatoes dangling off it.
Sethan reached up and plucked a strand of root out of his hair. “You know, you could still make yourself useful,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Go get a peeler.”
with Hot Fudge, Whipped Cream, and Malt
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1248
Word Count : 1048
Malt Prompt : 12 Days - 6 Pounds of Potatoes
Malt Prompt : PfaH - Sethan - Now watch as I impersonate a cactus
“Potatoes?” said Sethan, and the tone really didn’t require the smirk that went with it.
“Well, it doesn’t have to be potatoes exactly,” Kairn said, withdrawing the book he’d had open under his friend’s nose. “I mean, that’s just the page it’s on. It could be carrots, or squash. Strawberries even.”
Sprawled in the grass, all oddly placed elbows and knees, Sethan continued to regard him with a mix of disbelief and amusement. Kairn returned the book to his pocket, shoved a hand through his hair. “What’s so silly about a vegetable garden anyway?”
Sethan shrugged, frowned, and wrinkled his nose. Kairn took an instinctive step back as the handkerchief cleared his pocket. Standing too close to a sick Sethan was like standing close to an armed explosive. Sethan put the cloth to his nose and blew and the faint zap that hit him in the toes sent Kairn back another step.
“We could plant herbs too, you know,” he said, and Sethan shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. “Cold remedies?”
The smirk retuned as Sethan shook his head. “Give it here.”
Kairn’s hand closed over the book and he took one cautious step forward. He drew to a quick stop at another twitch of Sethan’s nose and found he was holding his breath as Sethan waved him closer. Six inches or six feet, it wasn’t as if the blast wasn’t going to hit him when it came. Kairn shrugged and plopped on the ground beside him.
“Here,” he said, retrieving the book and opening it back up to the page with the little sketch of potatoes at the top. He poked at the forms inscribed beneath. “It’s sort of life and death on top of each other. And all these leafy strokes, but I suppose that’s because they’re potatoes.“
Sethan was frowning at the book. He reached out a boney hand to flip the page and gave the next one a glance. There were similar forms there, beneath a doodle of some beans. “Life and death?” he said, thoughtfully.
“I know. Strange, huh? But I figured if anyone could pull it off, it would be you. And it might be interesting to see.”
Sethan sniffed.
“But, you know,” Kairn made to pull back the book again, “if you don’t want to, I mean, they’re only potatoes. I understand.”
He whisked his hand back as Sethan snatched the book from his grasp, and rocked back in the grass as he thumbed through the pages.
“So, did you bring one?” said Sethan, eyes trained on the text.
“Hmm?”
“A potato.”
“Well, yes,” said Kairn. He felt about in his pocket for it and frowned. “We’re not going to plant it here, are we?”
Sethan shrugged. “Why not?” He held out a palm and, when Kairn did not quickly produce the potato, gave him a look. “I thought you wanted to see this.”
“There are better places for it,” said Kairn, handing over the potato anyway.
Sethan waved him off. He turned the potato over a time or two, thoughtfully, and Kairn flinched at another loud sniffle. He reached into a pocket to feel about. Kairn tensed, expecting another handkerchief and another jolt. Instead, Sethan brought out a pocket knife. He flipped it open, one handed, and set to carving into the potato.
“Ah, Sethan…”
“Hmm?” said Sethan, eyes flitting between the book open in his hand and the potato.
“I think you’re supposed to draw the forms on the ground.”
He paused, the tip of the blade still lodged in the potato, to fix him with a look that scarcely needed the words that accompanied it. “You’re welcome to do this yourself, you know.”
Kairn scowled but held his tongue. Sethan returned to his carving, stopping now and then to turn the potato a bit or frown at the page, while Kairn picked at the grass and tried not to feel useless.
At last he set the potato, crisscrossed with lines, down on the ground, snapped the knife shut, and wiped his hands on his pants. “Interesting combination,” he said. “Life and death. I wonder what that might do to animal matter.”
Kairn grimaced. “Can we stick with potatoes for now?”
Fingers carefully placed along the edge of the tiny sigils, Sethan nodded. “Where did you get this book from anyway?”
“Berwyk lent it to me.”
Sethan looked up, one brow quirked. “Berwyk’s lending you books now?”
“It’s not that unthinkable, is it?”
Sethan jerked his hands away from the lines as what might have been a laugh quickly degenerated into a bout of coughing. The grass around them lurched a half inch higher.
“Should I maybe be the one to activate-” Kairn reached for the potato, but Sethan waved him off. He gingerly laid his hands back around the tiny lines, and Kairn found himself holding his breath
He didn’t even hear the sneeze when it came. The pop of the spell drowned it out. He did see Sethan’s shoulders jerk amidst the flash of light that shot from the sigil. From the lone potato sprang a clump of roots and another potato and another. The roots curled over themselves, tangling together, spilling out over the ground. A stem emerged, leaves snapping open like little sails unfurling.
The roots continued their mad climb over one another, sprouting potato after potato in their midst, until there was a sizeble pile before them. The initial snap that rang in Kairn’s ears gave way to a string of oaths Sethan was muttering. He pried his gaze from the mess to find his friend covered in even more roots. They curled up his arms, long stringy things, with little potatoes dangling along the way. A little shoot of green stood up on one of his shoulders.
Sethan caught him looking and frowned at him. “Well, it works,” he said.
“I told you I should invoke the thing,” said Kairn, fighting hard not to laugh. “You’re not reliable when you’re sick.” He chose to ignore the gesture then aimed his way, however ridiculous it looked connected to an arm with potatoes dangling off it.
Sethan reached up and plucked a strand of root out of his hair. “You know, you could still make yourself useful,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Go get a peeler.”