Notus (notus) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-01-08 01:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | notus |
Who: Notus [Narrative]
What: A temper tantrum
Where: Boreas' office
When: Late Thursday night, after this.
There was pissed off, and then there was pissed off. And then there was Notus, whose foul mood could not be described by mere adjectives.
He shouldn’t have been so upset. Boreas’ comments hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary. His brother was a jerk, and to expect him to be anything else was like expecting ice to be warm. But the rudeness to Anatole and the insult about their mother had sent Notus into a full-blown temper tantrum, complete with loud cursing and heavy feet-stomping.
Make me, Boreas had said. I’d like to see you try.
Oh, Notus would try, all right. He could think of nothing better than giving Boreas a piece of his mind, along with a few well-earned punches to the face and torso. He might have been smaller than his brother, and younger, but he’d do his best to wipe that stupid, condescending expression off of Boreas’ face. At least for a few minutes, anyways.
He was halfway to Boreas’ home when he realized that violence probably wasn’t the best response. Fighting Boreas wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it’d probably make things worse. Boreas would probably like it.
“Well, fuck.”
Notus adjusted his course, backtracking for a bit before heading off toward Plan B. If he couldn’t mess up Boreas’ face, he’d have to do the next best thing.
A half an hour later found him inside of Boreas’ office, sitting in Boreas’ chair, with his muddy feet propped up on Boreas’ desk. Finding the place had been the hard part—everything after that had been a breeze. He’d slipped right past the security, locked doors, and alarms. The wind blows where it will. That, and Notus had learned how to pick locks a few years ago.
“Real nice place you got here, Boreas,” he said, craning his neck to glance around the room. So what if he was talking to himself? Anger makes you do crazy things. “Real classy! And this chair is really comfortable.”
He bounced up and down in his seat, swiveling the chair from side to side as he considered what to do first. And then his gaze fell on the computer in front of him. “Wow. This looks expensive.” With one, swift movement, he reached out and sent the machine crashing to the ground.
“Oops! I am so sorry.” A grin had begun to spread across his face. Standing up, he flung his arms wide and sent a few more things skittering across the desk. “Everything’s so organized. And clean! I’m really impressed.”
He hadn’t used his powers for something like this in ages. It’d been so long that he’d almost forgotten how. But it all came back to him in a rush, and soon the room was filled with a hot, destructive wind. Papers fluttered in the air, pens and pencils bounced off the walls, furniture tipped over—until the place looked more like tornado wreckage than an office.
Notus, his grin now broader than ever, observed the scene with a pronounced feeling of satisfaction. The damage wasn’t irreversible. Furniture could be repaired, new machines could be bought, and those important looking documents had just been scattered, not destroyed. All in all, he was proud of himself. He hadn’t completely ruined his brother’s workplace, after all.
Anger abated, he began to maneuver his way around the debris and toward the door. He was just about to exit the room when he paused, turned around, and headed back toward the center of the office.
“I’ll just take this with me,” he said, picking up Boreas’ chair and lugging it across the room. “Call it a souvenir.”
His only regret was that he couldn’t be there to see his brother’s face in the morning.