Sunday, February 3, 2013

ENGLISH : CHALLENGE 1 - A day in Richelieu's Life - Karell

Here is the first fanfiction I wrote about Paris' Clan. It was basically a challenge between Louise and me. We had the same theme and some words we had to place in the text.

Here, the theme is "one day in Richelieu's life" and the words were : Jasmine, street lamp and mysterious.

Here comes my text :)

A Day in the Life of Richelieu

The day – or the night to be precise – always started the same way for Montigny Manor’s griffin. As soon as the sun was going on the other side of the Earth, crackles ran on the statues’ hard surface. One by one, the strange residents of this house came back to life, everytime the sun was going down. Everyone liked to take their own place on the big terrace located on the first floor, surmounting the garden’s woods.
Everybody, except one. A stubborn and ill-bred fellow who kept on being isolated from the others and seemed to like it. Grimm always waited for sunset in the gym room, surrounded by the musculation devices as only companions. All of them in poor shape despite their newness, showing traces of vandalism and claw marks.

As soon as his second skin was falling down, Richelieu stretched his body and legs, hooting with satisfaction. A hand shrugged his head with affection, flattening his feathers on the top of his head. He closed his eyes with pleasure as a jasmine perfume filled his nostrils. Was it Morphine, Absinthe or Mélusine ? No way it could be Morphine who just can’t use perfumes. Why spraying useless scents if the only persons she met were this very house’s residents ?
            Absinthe ? Perhaps, or Mélusine. Impossible to be sure because when he opened his eyes, none of the girls were there. Delacroix always hung out on the terrace, checking the surroundings to see with his very own eyes that nothing happened during their stone sleep. As he was reassured, he jumped off the terrace’s edge, put earphones in his hears, listening to his big as a washing-machine walkman, and start dancing like a rock star.

After a long day sleep, hunger always took over, especially with Richelieu That’s why it was no surprise to see him rubbing against every legs he stopped by. He went near the electric blue gargoyle with eyes full of hope. But his efforts were useless as Delacroix was focused on Asia one hit wonder.
Too bad. He tried again with Svenn but failed again. The big Viking gargoyle prefered to have a chat with Professor Montigny like every calm night.

Richelieu hooted with disappointment and headed to the kitchen. Pots were always coming to the boil, dishes were ready to be savoured, spreading their more than succulent scents. Maybe his bowl was full too ? At least he always could rummage in cupboards and get served from the very pots. There were always surprising yet succulent things to eat. Shifting from one paw to the other, the griffin headed to this metal container, trying to find something to eat with his tongue and beak. But his wild beast’s stomach needed more than that. His enhanced sense of smell led him on the large counter where a big and roasty chicken were cooling down gently. But the cook never thought about Richelieu’s climbing skills and bottomless stomach. In no time, he jumped on the table, casting pans and pots on the ground and dived his beak in the steaming but tasty chicken meat.

He was disturbed by a very shrill noise.

« AAAAHHH ! Richelieeeeeu ! Are you mad ?! Get out of here !! » Somebody hit him with a newspaper.

« Bad cat ! Bad bird ! »

Under Morphine’s hitting, Richelieu had no choice but retreat and flee through the window under the teenager’s screamings and imaginative insults. He glided to the ground and began to hoot and spit at the little gargoyle before leaving like a prince. Courageous, yes ! But not reckless !

The alleys in this little woods were enlightened by old street lights that Professor Montigny installed many years ago. It gave the woods a little English park that the Professor particuliarly enjoyed. The griffin headed to the flight of steps leading to the drawing room where a great fire was dancing in the chimney. Curiously, the french window was open and nobody was there to be seen. Usually, the griffin was persona non grata in this room full of tapestries and covered with books and parchments. And I didn’t mention the confy armchairs, the various artefacts and statues. An awesome playground for a griffin like Richelieu. Attracted like a bee with a honey pot, Richelieu stepped in and took a tour with sparkling eyes. On the walls, tapestries shew series of fantasy scenes with gargoyles-like creatures, Children of Oberon and a knight and his armored steed. But the griffin had no artistic nor historical interest here. What else could he do ? He got closer to the piece of art, just to see her from a closer point of vue and..


A Cat must use his claws and is there something better than an ancient tapestry to put them in ?

After some ploughing, the door opened and Mélusine screamed.

« Noooooo ! It was my favourite tapestry !! Bad cat ! BAD KITTY ! Psss Psss ! » But Richelieu didn’t seem to move back, keeping slashing the piece of art into shreads. Only one solution came to Mélusine’s mind. In a flash she grabbed a vase, threw out the flowers and splashed the griffon with left water.

« Leave the tapestry alone, I said ! »

Richelieu bounced back and growled with anger, bristling.

« Let’s go, go away ! You’re not allowed to be here. » Said Mélusine while she was pushing him away by the french window. She closed the door and looked at the vandalised tapestry with despair. Father will not be happy with this.

On the outside, Richelieu snorted and managed to smooth his feather and leather. He hated being wet except with his own saliva. Taking unbelievable poses, he began to lick himself everywhere he could, flattening his dishevelled hairs and his wings feathers. A long and hard work of precision and contorsion.

After so many exercices and adventures, the beast began to feel tired. In a last effort, he climbed on a tree before taking off from a reasonnable height. Heading to the terrace, Richelieu walked to Grimm’s room where he knew his basket and cushions were waiting for him. But he stopped next to the room where Absinthe was reading on a couch next to an english window. The griffin went and scrubbed against her legs with lots of purrings before falling asleep on her feet.

« Pff, always asking for food, cuddles or sleeping, this big fellow. » She mumbled. He was still purring while asleep, his eyes closed, his chest going up and down with regularity.
She couldn’t hide a shy smile despite her sight and crouched next to him to give him a big hug. After all, she always envied the kids who won giant pandas plushes in the carnivals where she was condamned to stay away from.

Whatever. At least Richelieu loved hugs. And he choked the white gargoyle with all his weight under tons of purring.

« Ahhh you’re choking me ! » she said moving her arms and releasing around a great scent of Jasmine perfume.


- Karell, 2009

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