030 - Spiced Quinoa Apple Pie Parfait
Feb. 12th, 2014 07:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deadly_ned[Video/Spam]
[Something is very...different, this morning.
The Piemaker isn't baking, for one. Ordinarily this would be a sign of marked distress, but he's not even found in the kitchen today.
He's in the maintenance office. Acting like he's always belonged there.]
I want to do a wide sweep of floors two and three today. We should start from the top and work our way down. It's. Efficient.
[Markedly noticeable are his lack of pauses and hesitation. And his pointy ears. Elf ears.]
Dean, if you want to come down and review this list...
[All of a sudden, something catches the Piemaker's eye. He looks up and sees his own dog, Digby, sitting patiently across the room.
The Piemaker looks at his hands. And looks to Digby.
He feels remarkably different today]
...Hold that thought.
[Crossing the office, the Piemaker walks over to the dog he rose from the dead: the dog he hasn't been able to touch since he was nine years old.
He reaches out, terrified and entranced, as his fingers ghost along Digby's fur coat, not quite touching. Does he dare? Is this real?
Digby, tired of waiting and knowing that there is something equally amiss this morning, loses his patience and bounds on top of the Piemaker, falling into his arms and licking him furiously]
[Something is very...different, this morning.
The Piemaker isn't baking, for one. Ordinarily this would be a sign of marked distress, but he's not even found in the kitchen today.
He's in the maintenance office. Acting like he's always belonged there.]
I want to do a wide sweep of floors two and three today. We should start from the top and work our way down. It's. Efficient.
[Markedly noticeable are his lack of pauses and hesitation. And his pointy ears. Elf ears.]
Dean, if you want to come down and review this list...
[All of a sudden, something catches the Piemaker's eye. He looks up and sees his own dog, Digby, sitting patiently across the room.
The Piemaker looks at his hands. And looks to Digby.
He feels remarkably different today]
...Hold that thought.
[Crossing the office, the Piemaker walks over to the dog he rose from the dead: the dog he hasn't been able to touch since he was nine years old.
He reaches out, terrified and entranced, as his fingers ghost along Digby's fur coat, not quite touching. Does he dare? Is this real?
Digby, tired of waiting and knowing that there is something equally amiss this morning, loses his patience and bounds on top of the Piemaker, falling into his arms and licking him furiously]