#set 40

[gobs-o-dice]

Old Dice Staging Methods: Batch #8

[gobs-o-dice]

Dice Set #40: Gold & Blue

[wellamarke]

Drabble #399

IX: thoughtful gift

The bottle of brown sauce has not been opened. During the first silence, Douglas's wandering gaze lands on the label. Everything apart from the brand name is in Greek, naturally. Not one of his particular linguistic strengths, but he could probably list off the ingredients anyway. He'd practically memorised them by the time his research had uncovered the fact that the recipe had remained the same in Greece. Ironic, then, that he had put in so much thought into the gift, only for his marriage to break before the bottle's seal had a chance to.

That would teach him, perhaps.

[wellamarke]

Drabble #397

VII: unwelcome gift

“I don't care who sent it," Carolyn said firmly, "It's not coming on board."

“She's a she, Mum!" Arthur protested, "And she's from the king's private collection! We can't leave her behind."

The bird looked up at them with a doleful expression.

“Dodos go extinct in twenty years," Douglas observed. "Old Charlie'll outlive them himself. I wonder if he knew that before he gave us his only specimen."

“Well, you know kings and their gratitude," Carolyn sniffed. "You prevent one extratemporal assassination attempt and they're eating out of your hand." She sighed. "Alright, fine. But we're getting her a cage."

[wellamarke]

Drabble #396

VI: damaged present

"It's a dragon," said Verity solemnly, "And he did have two wings but one came off when I was bringing him home in my book-bag."

Douglas took the little clay creature from her gently, making a great show of turning it around to admire it from all angles. "He's terrific," he said emphatically. "Are you sure you don't want to keep him at home?"

“No, I made him for you," she said. After a pause, she added conspiratorially, "I'm giving Mum and Darren the troll I made last week, because it's not as good."

Douglas returned her devilish smile.

[wellamarke]

Drabble #393

III: the best gift ever

Surprise has rendered Arthur, if not speechless, then at least hushed and adoring, which is a novelty in itself.

The tiny, wriggling ball of fur looks up from his arms, a fringe of curls all but obscuring two bright little eyes, but not the wet, pink tongue that pokes out and licks Arthur lovingly on the chin.

He giggles and looks over at Carolyn. "Thanks, Mum. I love her. She's the best gift ever."

Carolyn prays silently that in the excitement of the new arrival, he might just forget her promise to let him choose a name.

(Naturally, he hasn't.)

[wellamarke]

Drabble #395

V: valentine's gift

It's smoothly wrapped in heart-infested pink paper, and when Herc insists that she open it in front of him she eyes him with suspicion, before tearing it open unceremoniously.

"Well?" he says, through a roguish smile. "D'you think you'll find it useful?"

She finds herself laughing. "Yes, for swatting at irritating pilots with," she says, mock-threateningly, lifting the hefty volume entitled 'Starting a Business – for Dummies' and swinging it at his head.

He uses the attack as a cover to come up close, then bats the book away with one hand and plants a kiss on her cheek.

[wellamarke]

Drabble #394

IV: gift from grandma

The tiny occupant of the calving-shed regarded Douglas with big, bashful brown eyes.

“Hello,” he murmured, slipping his hand into his pocket as he approached Gerti III. He retrieved the blue ribbon with its tiny gold bell, and slipped it gently over the calf’s head, distracting her with a handful of feed as he did so.

“That was your grandma’s when she was your age,” he said solemnly. “So I could always hear her coming.”

He felt a friendly nudge in his back, and added, “She can sneak up on me much better, now she’s grown out of it.”