Валерий is creeping on your memories (tipofthetongue) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2012-09-21 09:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! narrative, ! plot: egg, valya zhiglov |
WHO: Valery Zhiglov [mentions of his brother, Alyosha]
WHAT: When older brothers smash eggs...
WHEN: BACKDATED to Wednesday, Sept 19th
WHERE: The first floor lounge
WARNINGS: none
STATUS: Completed Narrative
His brother. Valery leaned against the door frame to the first floor lounge, watching dozens of navy blue eggs appear and disappear in the illusion Alyosha had created. He had heard about it earlier in the day - students being allowed a chance to knock the yolk out of an egg - but seeing them in action really put the more absurd aspects of the competition into perspective. Some of the other students would have a try for a laugh, or because the chances of smashing an egg weren’t bad at all, and others (like the overly enthusiastic Japanese student) held the mallet in hand like it was Thor’s hammer. Valery wasn’t interested in thwacking imaginary eggs. He knew his brother; Alyosha would not risk the security of Flamingo’s egg by including it in a game. Alyosha was overly smug sometimes, but not stupid. Except, Valery thought, in his decision to leave the real egg unguarded while he created his egg carnival fantasy. He felt a familiar twinge - the urge to put Alyosha in his place and take pleasure in his own superiority. It was a symptom of being an older brother. He’d done it enough when they were young, setting Alyosha up for failure and mischievously enjoying his brother’s torment and disappointment. He hadn’t done it in years, but the competition between their teams and Alyosha’s confidence kindled that old flame. Whether his little brother liked it or not, Alyosha’s memories were free-picking for Valery. These days, he usually did not mess around with his brother without mentioning it first, but today he kept his mouth shut. From the doorway, he worked past the memories of various students hammering at eggs, past Alyosha’s lunch conversation, past his memories of class lectures. He stopped with the glimpse of the egg, tucked safely into a pocket that no-one could see. Another illusion. The smile on Valery’s face broadened - sharp and somewhat predatory. Advancing into the room, he let the student with the mallet hammer on, heading for his brother instead. Poor Alyosha didn’t even have time to react. Valery had reeled back and smacked the egg in the unseen pocket without so much as a greeting. There was the satisfying crunch of shell and the flash of white teeth as he grinned. “Przykro mi, bracie,” he said. “At least I didn’t use the hammer.” |