SS #13: Of Ugly Sobbing and Ice Cream Binges
Jul 3, 2016 22:53:47 GMT
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Post by boogum on Jul 3, 2016 22:53:47 GMT
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Summary: Gin should have seen the warning signs.
Word Count: 817
Gin should have noticed the warning signs. Korn had been suspiciously chirpy when passing by him at the entrance to leave Headquarters. The monosyllabic man normally spoke in grunts and robotic one-liners, but Korn had not only wished Gin a good morning, he had even smiled. Plus, there was the fact that Headquarters had been quiet. Too quiet, as if a noxious gas had been unleashed and anyone inside who had a brain had fled far, far away, leaving only empty corridors and the faint hum of electricity.
Yes, Gin should have noticed the warning signs. But he had woken up later than usual because his alarm clock had died. Worse, he had run out of coffee and had not been able to make a quick stop at a café on the way (he had assumed that he could get something at Headquarters if all else failed). As such, his ability to think rationally was still on the sleepy side. This meant the little clues that would have normally stood out like broken thumbs were just a haze of oddities and random occurrences.
That is, until he heard the ugly sobbing.
Gin flinched. His hand was already pushing the door open to the morning tea room. It was too late to turn back. The agent with the butterfly tattoo curled up on the couch had already spotted him, red-rimmed eyes sparking with recognition. In her hand, she clutched a spoon and a tub of ice cream. Her cheeks were still ballooned from the giant scoop she had just stuffed into her mouth. Next to her, Vodka sat with his hands raised in an appeasing gesture and he was making awkward noises that might have been an attempt to be soothing. His gaze fixed on Gin in a silent cry for help.
Oh, hell. The monster had been unleashed.
“Get rejected again, Chianti?” Gin asked conversationally.
Let it be reminded that Gin had not had his morning coffee yet. Survival instincts were decidedly subpar, which was why she still managed to surprise him a little when she whipped out a rifle from out of nowhere and aimed it at his head.
“Come here to mock me?” she snarled, though it came out more like “umph ‘er u umph’ee”.
Gin repressed a sigh. Chianti was a trigger-happy crazy person on her best days, but she got that much worse when dealing with a rejection. Vodka made more awkward noises and his hand hovered near her shoulder, not quite touching. The silent cry for help was much stronger in his eyes now.
“Calm down, Chianti,” Vodka said in his gentlest voice. “You know Aniki wasn’t mocking you.”
She swallowed her ice cream and rubbed a hand across her eyes. “Of course he was. All men are jerks. You both included.”
Vodka eyed the barrel of the rifle warily. “Okay, we’re all jerks. Just put the gun down.”
She obliged, but only to stuff more ice cream into her mouth. Gin didn’t ask how this mess had been started—frankly, he didn’t care about Chianti’s love life, or lack of; only her ability to hit targets—but he still got the story from Vodka, intermingled with more ugly sobbing and angry exclamations from Chianti. It seemed the sniper had met a man at a bar. As Chianti was prone to do, she fell in love with him on first sight and decided to declare her love. Man got scared and rejected her. Chianti cornered him later and declared her love more forcefully. Man got more scared. Chianti got angry. Man ran away.
Cue ice cream binge.
“Do we have to do clean up again?” Gin asked with a sigh.
“I’sh ‘umph,” she replied.
Gin raised an eyebrow.
Chianti swallowed the ice cream. “I said it’s fine. I didn’t pull a gun on this one. No cops will be coming.”
“So long as you don’t start stalking him again,” Vodka muttered.
Her eyes flashed. “What was that?”
Vodka raised his hands in surrender, once more finding himself at the other end of a rifle. “I said it’s too bad he didn’t see your wonderful qualities and agree to go out with you.”
Chianti stared at him suspiciously for a moment, but was too emotional to debate the issue. She scowled and stuffed more ice cream into her mouth. Vodka let out a visible sigh of relief.
Gin shook his head. “Something really needs to be done about this woman.”
Maybe there was some Love 101 course out there: How Not to Scare a Guy Off in a Second. Anything that would stop Chianti from becoming an emotional mess and holding hostage by gunpoint anyone who was foolish enough to get close to her. Sadly, he had to include himself in that group today, and he still hadn’t had his coffee.
Gin repressed a sigh. It was going to be a long morning.
Summary: Gin should have seen the warning signs.
Word Count: 817
Of Ugly Sobbing and Ice Cream Binges
Gin should have noticed the warning signs. Korn had been suspiciously chirpy when passing by him at the entrance to leave Headquarters. The monosyllabic man normally spoke in grunts and robotic one-liners, but Korn had not only wished Gin a good morning, he had even smiled. Plus, there was the fact that Headquarters had been quiet. Too quiet, as if a noxious gas had been unleashed and anyone inside who had a brain had fled far, far away, leaving only empty corridors and the faint hum of electricity.
Yes, Gin should have noticed the warning signs. But he had woken up later than usual because his alarm clock had died. Worse, he had run out of coffee and had not been able to make a quick stop at a café on the way (he had assumed that he could get something at Headquarters if all else failed). As such, his ability to think rationally was still on the sleepy side. This meant the little clues that would have normally stood out like broken thumbs were just a haze of oddities and random occurrences.
That is, until he heard the ugly sobbing.
Gin flinched. His hand was already pushing the door open to the morning tea room. It was too late to turn back. The agent with the butterfly tattoo curled up on the couch had already spotted him, red-rimmed eyes sparking with recognition. In her hand, she clutched a spoon and a tub of ice cream. Her cheeks were still ballooned from the giant scoop she had just stuffed into her mouth. Next to her, Vodka sat with his hands raised in an appeasing gesture and he was making awkward noises that might have been an attempt to be soothing. His gaze fixed on Gin in a silent cry for help.
Oh, hell. The monster had been unleashed.
“Get rejected again, Chianti?” Gin asked conversationally.
Let it be reminded that Gin had not had his morning coffee yet. Survival instincts were decidedly subpar, which was why she still managed to surprise him a little when she whipped out a rifle from out of nowhere and aimed it at his head.
“Come here to mock me?” she snarled, though it came out more like “umph ‘er u umph’ee”.
Gin repressed a sigh. Chianti was a trigger-happy crazy person on her best days, but she got that much worse when dealing with a rejection. Vodka made more awkward noises and his hand hovered near her shoulder, not quite touching. The silent cry for help was much stronger in his eyes now.
“Calm down, Chianti,” Vodka said in his gentlest voice. “You know Aniki wasn’t mocking you.”
She swallowed her ice cream and rubbed a hand across her eyes. “Of course he was. All men are jerks. You both included.”
Vodka eyed the barrel of the rifle warily. “Okay, we’re all jerks. Just put the gun down.”
She obliged, but only to stuff more ice cream into her mouth. Gin didn’t ask how this mess had been started—frankly, he didn’t care about Chianti’s love life, or lack of; only her ability to hit targets—but he still got the story from Vodka, intermingled with more ugly sobbing and angry exclamations from Chianti. It seemed the sniper had met a man at a bar. As Chianti was prone to do, she fell in love with him on first sight and decided to declare her love. Man got scared and rejected her. Chianti cornered him later and declared her love more forcefully. Man got more scared. Chianti got angry. Man ran away.
Cue ice cream binge.
“Do we have to do clean up again?” Gin asked with a sigh.
“I’sh ‘umph,” she replied.
Gin raised an eyebrow.
Chianti swallowed the ice cream. “I said it’s fine. I didn’t pull a gun on this one. No cops will be coming.”
“So long as you don’t start stalking him again,” Vodka muttered.
Her eyes flashed. “What was that?”
Vodka raised his hands in surrender, once more finding himself at the other end of a rifle. “I said it’s too bad he didn’t see your wonderful qualities and agree to go out with you.”
Chianti stared at him suspiciously for a moment, but was too emotional to debate the issue. She scowled and stuffed more ice cream into her mouth. Vodka let out a visible sigh of relief.
Gin shook his head. “Something really needs to be done about this woman.”
Maybe there was some Love 101 course out there: How Not to Scare a Guy Off in a Second. Anything that would stop Chianti from becoming an emotional mess and holding hostage by gunpoint anyone who was foolish enough to get close to her. Sadly, he had to include himself in that group today, and he still hadn’t had his coffee.
Gin repressed a sigh. It was going to be a long morning.