Post by goufcustom on Oct 21, 2009 23:51:03 GMT -5
The sky was a wonderful, vivid blue. Clouds floated lazily by, the kind that seem to make a thin sheet over part of the sky, where you can almost see through it. It was beautiful, and amazing, and soothing.
And as soon as Jarvis looked away from the sky to... well, to anything else around him, the soothing effect was replaced by mild aggravation. A candle burning nearby was keeping the bugs away. Most of them. Okay, a few. Well, they weren't ALL biting him, and that was something. It was also humid, and the foliage here in Cambodia was suffocating. He'd be inside one of the few buildings of the small little outpost instead of sitting in a fold-out chair with a fold-out table next to him, except none of them had functioning air conditioners, and without even the minute breezes, they were insufferable. The sky was the only thing this post had going for it. And the fact it was not currently being shelled by Zeon forces.
Lord, but he hated this assignment.
After taking another bracing look at the sky, he diverted his attention to the paperwork he was going through. His brow furrowed in concentration, his eyebrow clasping his monocle in place.
Suddenly! Without warning...! A cup and saucer were placed on the table next to him. He looks up to the young non-com, as she smiles down to him.
"I'm sorry, but... what is this?" he inquires.
"I saw you here working sir, and I just thought you might like some tea. That it might remind you of home."
His face goes dead for a moment, then leaps into exaggerated motion.
"Oh! Oh, yes, certainly! Of course, it's like I never left! The steam and humidity is just like the London fog in the morning! The bloody Queen herself is going to step out from behind that tree over there to THANK me for my damnable service, I just know it! Oh, and thank you for the tea! Why, YOU must have heard I was British! And after all, what bloody Englishman doesn't love his bloody fucking TEA!"
By the end of his tirade he had leapt from his chair and gesticulated wildly. He froze after seeing the poor girl's face, eyes wide with what seemed to be terror, and the hints of tears in her eyes. Needless to say, Jarvis felt like the Royal Prick, Prince of Wales, son of King Bastard Tosser IV.
"Um... sorry there. Thanks. I mean... for the thought. Eh, and the tea. Dismissed."
As she left in that strange way where one wishes to leave quickly, but leaves with exaggerated care and distinct lack of speed, Jarvis sat back down. He glanced from her down to the tea, and took a sip, doing his best to surpress a grimace.
"God, but I hate tea..."
And as soon as Jarvis looked away from the sky to... well, to anything else around him, the soothing effect was replaced by mild aggravation. A candle burning nearby was keeping the bugs away. Most of them. Okay, a few. Well, they weren't ALL biting him, and that was something. It was also humid, and the foliage here in Cambodia was suffocating. He'd be inside one of the few buildings of the small little outpost instead of sitting in a fold-out chair with a fold-out table next to him, except none of them had functioning air conditioners, and without even the minute breezes, they were insufferable. The sky was the only thing this post had going for it. And the fact it was not currently being shelled by Zeon forces.
Lord, but he hated this assignment.
After taking another bracing look at the sky, he diverted his attention to the paperwork he was going through. His brow furrowed in concentration, his eyebrow clasping his monocle in place.
Suddenly! Without warning...! A cup and saucer were placed on the table next to him. He looks up to the young non-com, as she smiles down to him.
"I'm sorry, but... what is this?" he inquires.
"I saw you here working sir, and I just thought you might like some tea. That it might remind you of home."
His face goes dead for a moment, then leaps into exaggerated motion.
"Oh! Oh, yes, certainly! Of course, it's like I never left! The steam and humidity is just like the London fog in the morning! The bloody Queen herself is going to step out from behind that tree over there to THANK me for my damnable service, I just know it! Oh, and thank you for the tea! Why, YOU must have heard I was British! And after all, what bloody Englishman doesn't love his bloody fucking TEA!"
By the end of his tirade he had leapt from his chair and gesticulated wildly. He froze after seeing the poor girl's face, eyes wide with what seemed to be terror, and the hints of tears in her eyes. Needless to say, Jarvis felt like the Royal Prick, Prince of Wales, son of King Bastard Tosser IV.
"Um... sorry there. Thanks. I mean... for the thought. Eh, and the tea. Dismissed."
As she left in that strange way where one wishes to leave quickly, but leaves with exaggerated care and distinct lack of speed, Jarvis sat back down. He glanced from her down to the tea, and took a sip, doing his best to surpress a grimace.
"God, but I hate tea..."