Drabble 3 - 'Churlishly Euphoric'

[thessalian]

This one was difficult, but not as much so as I'd thought.


"I hate this place."

To look around the Side Ways Market was to see the definition of 'eclectic' take physical shape. There were so many small, attractive sounds and sights and smells vying for the sensorium with all things vaguely creepy that every so often, one had to simply stop, close one's eyes, clamp one's hands over one's ears and block it all out so one could process the sensory input. This particular Market, which had no real space in London but was generally accessible through a tiny alleyway in Smithfields, had no pity for the limited human sensorium, because it frankly didn't cater much to humans on the whole.

And Mike Algernon hated it. Though Annette Dodd, his shopping companion, was looking around the place like a small child in Hamley's. She turned to Mike and smiled, reminding him of why he came to this abominable Market with her in the first place. "Oh, come oooon. It's, like, not really that bad, y'know? It's awesome! It's just ... y'know ... different, or whatever."

"They won't let me take pictures." That was not Mike's primary reason for hating this place, but it came a close second.

Annette rolled her eyes, still cheerful but mildly exasperated with it as well. "I, like, didn't figure you'd want to anyway, y'know? Seeing as you nearly got, like, nacked or whatever for violating the Way n'all. I mean, what would you do with the pictures once you had 'em?"

"I'd have them. That'd be enough." He looked around, nearly growling under his breath. "Besides, this place makes me nervous anyway. I'm always afraid I'm going to make a bad bargain without even knowing it and ending up with half my childhood memories removed or something."

"Not going to happen, y'know?" This with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "C'mon, Mike, you got a bit burned, y'know? Bound to make anyone a bit edgy, and all that, but you've gotta, like, get back up on the horse or whatever! The Side Ways Market is great once you're a bit more ... I dunno, used to it and what have you!"

"They took the colour of my eyes, Annette."

To that, Annette just shrugged. "But you, like, got those great coloured contacts! It's not like anybody, like, knows. Anyway," she added, smiling impishly at him, "you also got those really nifty camera lenses n'stuff. Tell me that, like, being able to get reliable pictures of ghosts or vamps or Fae or whatever doesn't kind of make up for it, just a teensy bit."

The thought of his camera lenses - the ones keyed to the supernatural, the ones that had proved so helpful to HIPPIE in recent months - set Mike into a mood that could only be described as 'churlishly euphoric'. Goblin-make and witch-treated, the lenses had been a godsend ... though which god in specific was kind of up for grabs, and just the having of them filled him with joy and inspiration. But all the same, to lose the colour of his own eyes for them, to have to wear coloured contact lenses at all times so that he didn't look like some sort of freak always set him in a bad mood, and it juxtaposed badly with the delight in having what he'd paid for. "Maybe. A little." Though he could not keep the glee out of his voice, mixed as it was with the rue and the grumble and the feh. "But ... the colour of my eyes, Annette? What are they going to do with the colour of my eyes anyway?"

After a moment's contemplation, Annette shrugged and said, "You probably don't want to know, y'know? Leave it as one of life's little mysteries or something; probably best."

Since Annette was generally a very good judge of what her least paranormally-inclined friend could and could not take at any given moment, Mike decided not to press the matter further. Instead, he sighed and said, "All right, but I still hate this place."

"Fair enough. Thanks for coming with me anyway, y'know?" Annette smiled a bit bashfully at him. "I love it here and everything, but it's, like, always great to have company, if you get me."

"Yeah..." He hoped that the wistful note in that word would go missed by the bouncing colourful witch at his side; Emma and Carl were bad enough as 'workplace office romance couple' thing without adding more, even if Mike was anywhere near Annette's league. To change the subject, he asked, "So what's the list today, anyway?"

"Oh, pretty much the usual, y'know?" She checked her list, which was written in bright purple ink on a powder-puff-pink heart-shaped Post-it note. "Left eye of alpine newt, miscellaneous toes of American Bullfrog, various herbs and spices..."

"Are you brewing a potion or opening up a branch of KFC?"

Annette giggled and hooked an arm through his. "You never know, y'know? Now c'mon! If I strike some good deals or whatever, I have my eye on a new tin of that body paint. Y'know, the ones that, like, glitter like stardust and taste like Kahlua? So I want to get cracking before it's all gone, n'stuff!"

Being hauled along in the wake of his intense and obviously unrequited crush, assailed with images of Annette in sparkling body paint and nothing else (and tastes like...?!?), Mike could only whimper under his breath, "...I hate this place..."

Comments

[yshala.livejournal.com]

Yay, that's good. These are good to read

[doccy.livejournal.com]

*agrees wholeheartedly* :D

[the-blonde-one.livejournal.com]

Poor Mike.

I love these. :D