A bit late but I realized I hadn't post this up here for some reason. This is just a little piece of writing I did for Thanksgiving featuring some of my characters. It's just a short little thing with no real plot or anything - think of it as like a filler episode of an anime. Enjoy =D
“Francis,” Sem said as he leaned against the breakfast bar of a very nice-looking kitchen. Sem was dressed in a black suit with a teal dress shirt underneath, nicely contrasting against his bronzed skin. The young-looking man’s mouth was drawn in a bit of a frown as he watched a certain skeletal chef race around the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
The skeleton shook his head, not even looking in Sem’s direction as he bent down to get some dishes from out of a cupboard. The skeleton was clad in only an apron and his bony feet clacked against the polished oak floors. Of course he declined to receive help. He always did. Thanksgiving was Captain Francis Bellefluer’s holiday. Well, aside from Halloween. But Thanksgiving was a close second on the captain’s list of favorite holidays. He always insisted on hosting Thanksgiving at his New York city flat. There was one year where Sem tried hosting it and it ended with Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression.
Sem knew better than to ask. He had learned many, many, many years ago that Francis would decline any help. One year all Sem did was bring a dish of candied yams and, well, it left Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression. Sighing, Sem absentmindedly fiddled with the snow-white streak in the fringe of his otherwise dark hair. He watched as Francis pulled a very perfect-looking turkey out of the oven, setting it next to the rest of the food. It was a small turkey, and there wasn’t nearly as much food as one would expect to see at Thanksgiving. Only four people were coming together at this dinner, and one of them couldn’t even eat.
Francis finally gave Sem and nodded once, a sign that dinner was ready to be served. Sem wandered off to find wherever Sorena had wandered off to in the medium-sized flat. He could sense her upstairs and so that’s where he went. The ancient woman was in the small library Francis had. It was filled with all sorts of books, some new, but most were very, very, old. In fact, Sorena was holding one very old book that Sem was half-sure was said to be lost to history.
“Who could understand any of this rubbish?” Sorena asked, snapping the priceless tome shut and casually tossing it to the side. “Whoever wrote that was mad.”
Sem said nothing, only smiling softly at Sorena as she turned around. She had really stepped out this year. Sem had been able to convince her to do away with her typical witch outfit of horrors for just that night in favor of a blue, stretch-velvet dress. Her silvery hair was still a bit wild, but Sorena was looking better than she had in years.
“Dinner’s ready,” he told her.
“I’ll be right down,” Sorena muttered as she trailed her finger along a shelf of books, mouthing their titles.
“You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Sem said lightly as he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He glanced at his silver watch just as it turned six o’ clock. Within seconds a clock chimed somewhere in the house. Everything was all set at the table as well. Francis was always ready at exactly six.
Just as Sem was wondering where the fourth person to their little get-together was the doorbell rang. Volunteering to get it, Sem walked to the door and opened it. Standing outside was a young woman with raven black hair, porcelain skin, and midnight-blue eyes. She was tall, especially in the heels she wore, and there was a certain feel to her as you caught site of her cocky grin. The young woman was dressed in a red cocktail dress and red shoes. A diamond necklace with matching earrings and bracelet accompanied the simple yet polished look.
“Lysis,” Sem greeted her, opening his arms. “Nice dress.”
“Hey, babe,” Lysis said, accepting the embrace before stepping inside of the home. “How’s my little emo?” she asked him. It was then that Sem noticed the bottle that was cradled in the crook of Lysis’ right arm.
“What is that?”
“Pinot noir,” Lysis answered simply. “1999.”
“Francis already picked out all the wine for the dinner,” Sem murmured to the young woman. He didn’t want their skeletal friend to overhear.
“Please, one of the very last things Francis has is a sense of taste,” Lysis said airily as she looked around at the décor of the home, making it fairly obvious that she wasn’t just talking about taste buds.
“He’s a master chef, so I would trust his opinion,” Sem pointed out.
Lysis lowered her voice, but she seemed a bit amused. “What is the big deal? It’s just some wine.”
This was the first Thanksgiving dinner Lysis had been invited to - for centuries it had mostly just been Sem, Sorena, and Francis. Sometimes Alphard would join them but very rarely did he do so. Since this was Lysis’ first dinner with them she really didn’t understand the implications of what she had done.
“You don’t understand,” Sem said. “He’ll get very offended if he sees it - if he even catches a whiff of that-“
“He has no nose, dear,” Lysis butt-in, pointing out that Francis did indeed lack a nose.
“He doesn’t have eyes either but he can still manage to see just fine,” Sem whispered as they got nearer to the kitchen.
“Fine!” Lysis whispered as she quickly shoved the bottle into an antique vase, muttering to herself. “Freakish undead monstrosi- Francis, darling!” she exclaimed as he suddenly came around the corner. She embraced him as un-awkwardly as one could embrace a skeleton. He had very quickly changed into a suit himself for the dinner. “Thanks for the invite,” she winked. “Finally you all can start having some fun. God knows what you’ve been doing with yourselves before I came along.”
“Oh, so you did manage to make it?” Sorena said as she entered the kitchen behind them. “I was hoping for a canceled flight or a car bomb to stop you.”
Lysis ignored what the old woman had said for a moment, taking in her sudden new appearance. “You finally realized that not every day is Halloween, I see,” Lysis commented. “I hate to say it but you do look very nice in that.”
Sorena blinked several times, expecting the need to shoot back at Lysis with some sort of retort like she usually had to, but not this time. This time Lysis had actually said something nice to her. “What you’re wearing suits you as well I suppose,” Sorena managed to say. She wasn’t quite ready to be nice just yet. That and she actually really didn’t know what did or didn’t look good on people, so she just trusted that Lysis’ vanity dressed her in a way that was phenomenal.
Francis quickly herded everyone to the table and sat them down. Sem and Lysis sat across from Sorena and Francis respectively.
“Rosé?” Lysis questioned at one of the bottles that was before her on the table, glancing a bit longingly at the vase that contained the wine she had brought. Instead of the Rosé though, Francis began pouring a different wine into everyones’ glasses. Lysis quickly noticed that the wine being poured was also Pinot noir. Sorena’s had very little wine in it – an amount that was deemed a safe amount to give to a very powerful sorceress who didn’t always seemed to have her head on straight.
Before digging in to eat Francis explained to Lysis via sign language everyone would go around and say what they were thankful for.
“Well, I pretty much say the same thing every year,” Sem started. “But I’m thankful for all of you. As you get older you realize that good friends and relationships are the true treasures one accumulates in life.”
Sorena was up next. “I am thankful for, well… most of you,” she said as she glared at Lysis. That was all she had to say.
Francis, again using sign language, explained that he was also thankful for the people in his life, counting them among his many blessings. He went on to talk about the smiling faces he saw at the shelters the earlier that day as he helped pass out Thanksgiving meals to the homeless and those in need. He was disguised, of course, but it still warmed his heart that so many people’s days were made by single acts of kindness. He went on and on about other things and finally after five minutes he was finished. Everyone had pretty much said they were thankful for people in their lives, very touching things to say.
“I am thankful for this wine,” Lysis commented, pointing to her glass. “And so that I don’t seem entirely detached and cold-blooded - I am thankful for all of you as well, believe it or not. You’re like the freakish family who never wanted me but whom I forced myself into anyway.”
At that everyone said “Cheers!” and clinked their glasses together.
As everyone began serving themselves Lysis quickly excused herself, fetching her bottle of wine since Francis was serving the same thing. “You all might want to try this,” she said as she sat back down at the table, uncorking the bottle. “It’s got a few more years on what Francis is serving. It’ll taste lovely.” She was a bit pre-occupied pouring herself some of her wine to notice Sem’s expression. The young-looking man’s eyes shifted between Lysis and Francis. Even Sorena had taken notice to something very wrong having just happened.
“I’d pour you some, dear, but you’re not really capable of drinking,” Lysis said to the unmoving skeleton. “Francis?” she said his name again, but he wasn’t responding. His empty gaze was aimed just straight ahead, his hands resting lightly on the table.
“You’ve done it now,” Sorena said, unable to help a smile from forming on her lips. “You’ve officially ruined your first Thanksgiving with us. We haven’t even started eating yet!”
“Shut up, hag,” Lysis said casually as she prodded the undead captain. Nothing. No response. “Come on, Francis. If you want I’ll put this away and we can have some of that watered down Rosé of yours.
“At this Francis’ head crashed forward onto his empty plate, breaking it.
Silence.
“Well, now what?” Lysis asked, the hint of a smile on her face still.
“We’ll have to carry him up to his bed, surround him in some of his favorite things, and tell him how much he means to us every couple minutes. He’ll come back around in a little while… hopefully,” Sem explained. He got up and scooped the catatonic pile of bones into his arms and went down the hall towards the stairs. Lysis and Sorena followed behind him.
“I very much hope this means that you won’t be invited next year,” Sorena said out loud.
“Almost like how I very much hope for the day when you finally drop dead. How old are you again? Eight hundred and fifty? Could be any day now,” Lysis chimed.
Happy Thanksgiving indeed.
“Francis,” Sem said as he leaned against the breakfast bar of a very nice-looking kitchen. Sem was dressed in a black suit with a teal dress shirt underneath, nicely contrasting against his bronzed skin. The young-looking man’s mouth was drawn in a bit of a frown as he watched a certain skeletal chef race around the kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”
The skeleton shook his head, not even looking in Sem’s direction as he bent down to get some dishes from out of a cupboard. The skeleton was clad in only an apron and his bony feet clacked against the polished oak floors. Of course he declined to receive help. He always did. Thanksgiving was Captain Francis Bellefluer’s holiday. Well, aside from Halloween. But Thanksgiving was a close second on the captain’s list of favorite holidays. He always insisted on hosting Thanksgiving at his New York city flat. There was one year where Sem tried hosting it and it ended with Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression.
Sem knew better than to ask. He had learned many, many, many years ago that Francis would decline any help. One year all Sem did was bring a dish of candied yams and, well, it left Francis in a catatonic state caused by severe depression. Sighing, Sem absentmindedly fiddled with the snow-white streak in the fringe of his otherwise dark hair. He watched as Francis pulled a very perfect-looking turkey out of the oven, setting it next to the rest of the food. It was a small turkey, and there wasn’t nearly as much food as one would expect to see at Thanksgiving. Only four people were coming together at this dinner, and one of them couldn’t even eat.
Francis finally gave Sem and nodded once, a sign that dinner was ready to be served. Sem wandered off to find wherever Sorena had wandered off to in the medium-sized flat. He could sense her upstairs and so that’s where he went. The ancient woman was in the small library Francis had. It was filled with all sorts of books, some new, but most were very, very, old. In fact, Sorena was holding one very old book that Sem was half-sure was said to be lost to history.
“Who could understand any of this rubbish?” Sorena asked, snapping the priceless tome shut and casually tossing it to the side. “Whoever wrote that was mad.”
Sem said nothing, only smiling softly at Sorena as she turned around. She had really stepped out this year. Sem had been able to convince her to do away with her typical witch outfit of horrors for just that night in favor of a blue, stretch-velvet dress. Her silvery hair was still a bit wild, but Sorena was looking better than she had in years.
“Dinner’s ready,” he told her.
“I’ll be right down,” Sorena muttered as she trailed her finger along a shelf of books, mouthing their titles.
“You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Sem said lightly as he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He glanced at his silver watch just as it turned six o’ clock. Within seconds a clock chimed somewhere in the house. Everything was all set at the table as well. Francis was always ready at exactly six.
Just as Sem was wondering where the fourth person to their little get-together was the doorbell rang. Volunteering to get it, Sem walked to the door and opened it. Standing outside was a young woman with raven black hair, porcelain skin, and midnight-blue eyes. She was tall, especially in the heels she wore, and there was a certain feel to her as you caught site of her cocky grin. The young woman was dressed in a red cocktail dress and red shoes. A diamond necklace with matching earrings and bracelet accompanied the simple yet polished look.
“Lysis,” Sem greeted her, opening his arms. “Nice dress.”
“Hey, babe,” Lysis said, accepting the embrace before stepping inside of the home. “How’s my little emo?” she asked him. It was then that Sem noticed the bottle that was cradled in the crook of Lysis’ right arm.
“What is that?”
“Pinot noir,” Lysis answered simply. “1999.”
“Francis already picked out all the wine for the dinner,” Sem murmured to the young woman. He didn’t want their skeletal friend to overhear.
“Please, one of the very last things Francis has is a sense of taste,” Lysis said airily as she looked around at the décor of the home, making it fairly obvious that she wasn’t just talking about taste buds.
“He’s a master chef, so I would trust his opinion,” Sem pointed out.
Lysis lowered her voice, but she seemed a bit amused. “What is the big deal? It’s just some wine.”
This was the first Thanksgiving dinner Lysis had been invited to - for centuries it had mostly just been Sem, Sorena, and Francis. Sometimes Alphard would join them but very rarely did he do so. Since this was Lysis’ first dinner with them she really didn’t understand the implications of what she had done.
“You don’t understand,” Sem said. “He’ll get very offended if he sees it - if he even catches a whiff of that-“
“He has no nose, dear,” Lysis butt-in, pointing out that Francis did indeed lack a nose.
“He doesn’t have eyes either but he can still manage to see just fine,” Sem whispered as they got nearer to the kitchen.
“Fine!” Lysis whispered as she quickly shoved the bottle into an antique vase, muttering to herself. “Freakish undead monstrosi- Francis, darling!” she exclaimed as he suddenly came around the corner. She embraced him as un-awkwardly as one could embrace a skeleton. He had very quickly changed into a suit himself for the dinner. “Thanks for the invite,” she winked. “Finally you all can start having some fun. God knows what you’ve been doing with yourselves before I came along.”
“Oh, so you did manage to make it?” Sorena said as she entered the kitchen behind them. “I was hoping for a canceled flight or a car bomb to stop you.”
Lysis ignored what the old woman had said for a moment, taking in her sudden new appearance. “You finally realized that not every day is Halloween, I see,” Lysis commented. “I hate to say it but you do look very nice in that.”
Sorena blinked several times, expecting the need to shoot back at Lysis with some sort of retort like she usually had to, but not this time. This time Lysis had actually said something nice to her. “What you’re wearing suits you as well I suppose,” Sorena managed to say. She wasn’t quite ready to be nice just yet. That and she actually really didn’t know what did or didn’t look good on people, so she just trusted that Lysis’ vanity dressed her in a way that was phenomenal.
Francis quickly herded everyone to the table and sat them down. Sem and Lysis sat across from Sorena and Francis respectively.
“Rosé?” Lysis questioned at one of the bottles that was before her on the table, glancing a bit longingly at the vase that contained the wine she had brought. Instead of the Rosé though, Francis began pouring a different wine into everyones’ glasses. Lysis quickly noticed that the wine being poured was also Pinot noir. Sorena’s had very little wine in it – an amount that was deemed a safe amount to give to a very powerful sorceress who didn’t always seemed to have her head on straight.
Before digging in to eat Francis explained to Lysis via sign language everyone would go around and say what they were thankful for.
“Well, I pretty much say the same thing every year,” Sem started. “But I’m thankful for all of you. As you get older you realize that good friends and relationships are the true treasures one accumulates in life.”
Sorena was up next. “I am thankful for, well… most of you,” she said as she glared at Lysis. That was all she had to say.
Francis, again using sign language, explained that he was also thankful for the people in his life, counting them among his many blessings. He went on to talk about the smiling faces he saw at the shelters the earlier that day as he helped pass out Thanksgiving meals to the homeless and those in need. He was disguised, of course, but it still warmed his heart that so many people’s days were made by single acts of kindness. He went on and on about other things and finally after five minutes he was finished. Everyone had pretty much said they were thankful for people in their lives, very touching things to say.
“I am thankful for this wine,” Lysis commented, pointing to her glass. “And so that I don’t seem entirely detached and cold-blooded - I am thankful for all of you as well, believe it or not. You’re like the freakish family who never wanted me but whom I forced myself into anyway.”
At that everyone said “Cheers!” and clinked their glasses together.
As everyone began serving themselves Lysis quickly excused herself, fetching her bottle of wine since Francis was serving the same thing. “You all might want to try this,” she said as she sat back down at the table, uncorking the bottle. “It’s got a few more years on what Francis is serving. It’ll taste lovely.” She was a bit pre-occupied pouring herself some of her wine to notice Sem’s expression. The young-looking man’s eyes shifted between Lysis and Francis. Even Sorena had taken notice to something very wrong having just happened.
“I’d pour you some, dear, but you’re not really capable of drinking,” Lysis said to the unmoving skeleton. “Francis?” she said his name again, but he wasn’t responding. His empty gaze was aimed just straight ahead, his hands resting lightly on the table.
“You’ve done it now,” Sorena said, unable to help a smile from forming on her lips. “You’ve officially ruined your first Thanksgiving with us. We haven’t even started eating yet!”
“Shut up, hag,” Lysis said casually as she prodded the undead captain. Nothing. No response. “Come on, Francis. If you want I’ll put this away and we can have some of that watered down Rosé of yours.
“At this Francis’ head crashed forward onto his empty plate, breaking it.
Silence.
“Well, now what?” Lysis asked, the hint of a smile on her face still.
“We’ll have to carry him up to his bed, surround him in some of his favorite things, and tell him how much he means to us every couple minutes. He’ll come back around in a little while… hopefully,” Sem explained. He got up and scooped the catatonic pile of bones into his arms and went down the hall towards the stairs. Lysis and Sorena followed behind him.
“I very much hope this means that you won’t be invited next year,” Sorena said out loud.
“Almost like how I very much hope for the day when you finally drop dead. How old are you again? Eight hundred and fifty? Could be any day now,” Lysis chimed.
Happy Thanksgiving indeed.
