Fic: Spin Recovery, Part 24
Feb. 18th, 2008 02:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalNEWSNET EXCLUSIVE
HOUSE BRUSHTAIL’S ABSENT SON ARRESTED ON DRUG CHARGES
(Local Date: 43.73.29 0930) Viscount Ru Ofanius Brushtail, son of the Countess [NAME] Brushtail and the late Lord [NAME], was arrested last night on charges of solicitation and possession of illegal pharmaceuticals. The thirty-two year old Lord Brushtail had been absent from Vulpine Prime and the Brushtail demesne for seven years, until he returned almost two months ago, having suffered an unexplained accident that resulted in the amputation of his right arm.
To continue reading this story
“Tell me, Dottie,” Rufus asked, resting his chin on his hand and staring at the monitor screen, a cup of tea lying forgotten on the table in front of him, “did those ancient heathen cultures you like to study have any particularly painful and prolonged means of executing fools?”
“Oh, quite a few,” Dottie answered cheerily from the kitchen. “My favorite is the one where they shaved their victim's pelt off, tied their hands and feet, then buried them in wet clay until just the tip of their muzzles were pointing up out of the earth. We figured out that in the area and the time of year they did this, the clay would harden into something like concrete in a day or two.”
“Charming.”
“The best part was when we dug up the skeletons and found copper tubes placed in their mouths and down their throats so they could be fed gruel. Apparently they were kept alive for up to weeks at a time like that.”
He looked away from the screen, which was displaying a rotating holographic image of himself that Civil Protection had taken when they'd processed him last night. “I'm sorry I asked. Remind me to have a party someday, just so I can be sure to not invite you.”
“Oh, nice thing to say to the lady who bailed you out of jail and gave you a place to sleep for the night.”
“Sorry.”
“And is fixing you breakfast.”
“I'm excessively sorry, then. Your breakfasts are much preferable than gruel from a tube. Believe me, I’ve eaten enough space rations to know.”
“That’s much better. Now quit staring at that and eat.”
Obedient, he stepped away from the comconsole and into the kitchen of Dottie’s flat, where he had been dragged more or less unwillingly by her the night before, after calling her to beg for bail.
“I do appreciate you taking me in,” he said, sitting down his omelet.
“Well, you aren’t the first person I’ve ever bailed out from the CP’s and then fed breakfast,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Mind you, before it was usually one of my students who managed to get themselves drunk at a party or something.”
“Mmm.” He poked at his omelet. “Do you suppose my mother has seen the news yet?”
“She must have by now, if for no other reason than I called Bethany last night to let her know where you were.”
“Ah? I don’t remember you doing that.”
“You were asleep.” She swallowed a bite of omelet.
“How did Beth take it?”
“She said ‘Thank you, I’ll inform Mother’ and then hung up.”
“Ouch.”
Dottie looked at him closely. “So now what are you going to do?”
“I can’t go home,” he said plaintively.
“I rather believe your mum is expecting you to, if for no other reason than to get the chance to chew your ears off. I think you’ve managed to create the biggest scandal in your House since your great-Aunt Mag.”
“Her only problems were figuring out which gender she wanted to be and a rather creative taste in fashion, she never got arrested for drug possession. Once the newsnets start digging up that whole mess with the Blue Horizon incident I’m going to rather wish I was buried up to my snout in clay.”
“A point. Still, you’re going to need some kind of strategy to fly through this one, pilot.”
He thought for a moment. “First I ought to call the precinct captain of those poor constables who arrested me, so I can let him know that I understand they were performing their assigned duties and should not be retaliated against.”
“Good,” Dottie agreed.
“Next…” He sighed. “I’ll have to go home briefly to get my things, then I’ll do what I’d intended to in the first place and find an apartment in the city.”
“Your mother isn’t going to take that very well and neither will Beth.”
“I think it’s better if I get out of there for now. My mother believes that in order to save her commoners’ homes, she has to first kick them out and bulldoze the buildings. My sister on the other hand, can’t decide whether I’m a bald faced liar or just insane.”
“I’d go with insane myself. Lunatics are always more fun at parties.”
Rufus opened his mouth to make the obvious retort, then wisely closed it again.
“Anyway,” Aunt Dottie continued, “how are you supposed to get an apartment if you can’t afford to bail yourself out of jail?”
“Ah, good point.” He thought about that one a moment. “I could get a job, I suppose. Except the only thing I’m really good at is piloting and that isn’t exactly an option in my current condition. I’d rather not have to go on the dole, since it would be my mother paying for my housing again, however indirectly.”
“That is a bit of problem,” she agreed. “Well, at least I can give you free room and board until you figure out what else you’re good at.”
It took Rufus a moment to process that one. “What, you’re taking me in?”
“I’ve got a spare bed in the guest room, you don’t make a habit of hosting wild parties and I could use the company. So yes, you’re welcome to stay here.”
“I, er, thank you, Auntie.” He considered the idea for a moment. “I suppose it might help with Mother if she knows I’m living with a relative, even it is one she can’t really stand.”
Dottie grinned. “That’s the spirit!”
TBC
Author's Note: Okay, that wasn't as harsh as I'd originally intended it. It's hard to do gloom & doom when Aunt Dottie is in the room. :)
HOUSE BRUSHTAIL’S ABSENT SON ARRESTED ON DRUG CHARGES
(Local Date: 43.73.29 0930) Viscount Ru Ofanius Brushtail, son of the Countess [NAME] Brushtail and the late Lord [NAME], was arrested last night on charges of solicitation and possession of illegal pharmaceuticals. The thirty-two year old Lord Brushtail had been absent from Vulpine Prime and the Brushtail demesne for seven years, until he returned almost two months ago, having suffered an unexplained accident that resulted in the amputation of his right arm.
To continue reading this story
“Tell me, Dottie,” Rufus asked, resting his chin on his hand and staring at the monitor screen, a cup of tea lying forgotten on the table in front of him, “did those ancient heathen cultures you like to study have any particularly painful and prolonged means of executing fools?”
“Oh, quite a few,” Dottie answered cheerily from the kitchen. “My favorite is the one where they shaved their victim's pelt off, tied their hands and feet, then buried them in wet clay until just the tip of their muzzles were pointing up out of the earth. We figured out that in the area and the time of year they did this, the clay would harden into something like concrete in a day or two.”
“Charming.”
“The best part was when we dug up the skeletons and found copper tubes placed in their mouths and down their throats so they could be fed gruel. Apparently they were kept alive for up to weeks at a time like that.”
He looked away from the screen, which was displaying a rotating holographic image of himself that Civil Protection had taken when they'd processed him last night. “I'm sorry I asked. Remind me to have a party someday, just so I can be sure to not invite you.”
“Oh, nice thing to say to the lady who bailed you out of jail and gave you a place to sleep for the night.”
“Sorry.”
“And is fixing you breakfast.”
“I'm excessively sorry, then. Your breakfasts are much preferable than gruel from a tube. Believe me, I’ve eaten enough space rations to know.”
“That’s much better. Now quit staring at that and eat.”
Obedient, he stepped away from the comconsole and into the kitchen of Dottie’s flat, where he had been dragged more or less unwillingly by her the night before, after calling her to beg for bail.
“I do appreciate you taking me in,” he said, sitting down his omelet.
“Well, you aren’t the first person I’ve ever bailed out from the CP’s and then fed breakfast,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “Mind you, before it was usually one of my students who managed to get themselves drunk at a party or something.”
“Mmm.” He poked at his omelet. “Do you suppose my mother has seen the news yet?”
“She must have by now, if for no other reason than I called Bethany last night to let her know where you were.”
“Ah? I don’t remember you doing that.”
“You were asleep.” She swallowed a bite of omelet.
“How did Beth take it?”
“She said ‘Thank you, I’ll inform Mother’ and then hung up.”
“Ouch.”
Dottie looked at him closely. “So now what are you going to do?”
“I can’t go home,” he said plaintively.
“I rather believe your mum is expecting you to, if for no other reason than to get the chance to chew your ears off. I think you’ve managed to create the biggest scandal in your House since your great-Aunt Mag.”
“Her only problems were figuring out which gender she wanted to be and a rather creative taste in fashion, she never got arrested for drug possession. Once the newsnets start digging up that whole mess with the Blue Horizon incident I’m going to rather wish I was buried up to my snout in clay.”
“A point. Still, you’re going to need some kind of strategy to fly through this one, pilot.”
He thought for a moment. “First I ought to call the precinct captain of those poor constables who arrested me, so I can let him know that I understand they were performing their assigned duties and should not be retaliated against.”
“Good,” Dottie agreed.
“Next…” He sighed. “I’ll have to go home briefly to get my things, then I’ll do what I’d intended to in the first place and find an apartment in the city.”
“Your mother isn’t going to take that very well and neither will Beth.”
“I think it’s better if I get out of there for now. My mother believes that in order to save her commoners’ homes, she has to first kick them out and bulldoze the buildings. My sister on the other hand, can’t decide whether I’m a bald faced liar or just insane.”
“I’d go with insane myself. Lunatics are always more fun at parties.”
Rufus opened his mouth to make the obvious retort, then wisely closed it again.
“Anyway,” Aunt Dottie continued, “how are you supposed to get an apartment if you can’t afford to bail yourself out of jail?”
“Ah, good point.” He thought about that one a moment. “I could get a job, I suppose. Except the only thing I’m really good at is piloting and that isn’t exactly an option in my current condition. I’d rather not have to go on the dole, since it would be my mother paying for my housing again, however indirectly.”
“That is a bit of problem,” she agreed. “Well, at least I can give you free room and board until you figure out what else you’re good at.”
It took Rufus a moment to process that one. “What, you’re taking me in?”
“I’ve got a spare bed in the guest room, you don’t make a habit of hosting wild parties and I could use the company. So yes, you’re welcome to stay here.”
“I, er, thank you, Auntie.” He considered the idea for a moment. “I suppose it might help with Mother if she knows I’m living with a relative, even it is one she can’t really stand.”
Dottie grinned. “That’s the spirit!”
TBC
Author's Note: Okay, that wasn't as harsh as I'd originally intended it. It's hard to do gloom & doom when Aunt Dottie is in the room. :)
