LUMPS 1.6: Neli’s Home Life is Less Than Pleasant
What? | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
I dedicate this chapter to my Chaos Twin, Over It, who I can always count on to send me asks and stuff. You’re my hero, Ovit.
Neli delicately handed Perish a french fry, wondering when it would all be worth it. All the insults, all the hiding. Despite years of practice, patience was beginning to take its toll. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep believing in her abilities out of spite alone. Sooner rather than later, she’d have to prove it.
She handed another cold fry to Perish, and he yawned. Then, just to be sure, she glanced up at the ceiling, severing eye contact with the crow. From her periphery, she saw him yawn again. Not quite the homework assignment, but she was sure it would suffice.
Bang Bang. “Get out here, Mild. It’s time to eat.”
Neli bit back a snarl at the sound of her brother’s voice through the door. Patience could get her through dinner, at least. She emerged from her chamber only to have her senses nearly intolerably assaulted. The muffled sound of the news anchors trickling in from the living room, the scent of take-out emanating from the kitchen, the sizzle of residual heat from her brother’s presence moments ago.
She sat next to her mother, grateful for the 300th time that after a full year of power honing, Kellen was still an idiot, still hot enough to be regulated to the opposite end of the dinner table where he couldn’t wilt the lettuce, and more importantly couldn’t reach out and singe her hair. He shoveled his food in like an animal before it could burn.
“Another long day at work for me,” said Neli’s mother, Patty. “How was power honing, Neli?”
“Yeah,” said her brother. “What kind of Mild exercises did you learn?”
“Kellen! Watch your language!”
“I didn’t learn anything.”
In the ensuing silence - her low, husky voice tended to remind people of their mortality - the TV sounded louder. A reporter was mentioning a startling jump in crime statistics, apparently connected to the escape of a famous convict. Chaos everywhere. Neli had been sleeping better the past few nights.
As Kellen prepared his final forkful of pasta, he yawned long and wide. The food halfway to his mouth turned black and inedible. He shot Neli a withering glare, and the temperature rose a few degrees.
Neli met his eyes. “Whoops.”
Thanks everyone who has helped so far: @ladydelahautematigny @danafaithwriting @lone-rhapsodist @gleamingwords @elliewritesstories and @zwergis-spilledink / @zwergenmaedchen!! You’re the true heroes of this story.
Send me ideas for characters, setting, plots, themes, or whatever you want to see happen in LUMPS. Like it or not, you’re a part of this, fam.
