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More from Solitude
Okay, seriously, don't judge me too harshly on this. This is the first thing that I've written in months, mostly on a whim. Though it was actually inspired by 
Ducky by a bit of artwork they did. I'm aware how fast the pace is, it's not my best work by a long shot, but it was something to get back on my feet. Plus, it was kind of fun to get to writing again, something I really have to do more of. Ducky's work is also really cool, it has a very bouncy, soft and cuddly quality to it. G'wan and give 'em a look!
The original submission that sparked this:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/4818061
Thumbnail and original artwork © Ducky
============
Frank was not, by all accounts, a bad man, in the same measure that the tax agent auditing your taxes and evicting you from your property on misfiled paperwork is not a bad man, he's simply doing his job. It might not be a job that one makes friends in easily, and almost always guarantees someone will spike your coffee with laxatives as a cruel way of forcing you expelling all the professional crap you're full of. By an odd coincidence, Frank was also a tax agent, and by default, was a social pariah. That's two for two, and going for the hat trick, he was also kind of a pushover.
It's really a surprise how he landed himself into his current situation. 'Landed' being the operative word. He glanced upwards, blushing heavily, frozen with a mixture of fear, dread, and comfort, two massive, inquisitive blue eyes bearing down on his little form...
A man of simple tastes and pleasures, Frank found joy in the little things in life, because the big things were often far too scary and expensive for him. Running his fingers over a plush blanket that's just been dry cleaned, laying back in bed and simply staring at the ceiling, poking at jell-o molds with spoons... Little, innocuous things; insignificant harmless hobbies that were victimless and didn't require interaction with another human being. Frank could only dream of having normal interactions with other people. As it stood, he always just hung out by the chips and dip at the office Christmas party, usually somewhere over by the water cooler.
The water cooler ended up getting more attention, by sheer merit of being more refreshing.
The basic upshot was that Frank was a very lonely man, living in a world of huge numbers and little margins. Keep it in the black, the way of a number cruncher; always in the minute details and not in the big picture. It was never about what the money, which he made a fair amount of. It was usually about trying to find joy in a soul crushing place of work, which I'm pretty sure anyone can equate to. Doctors got thank you letters and even little hamsters named after them, postal workers found joy in getting the mail through, and even lawyers had a very wicked sense of fulfillment in bleeding the defendant dry in lengthy litigation suits. Accountants, not so much.
So Frank wiled away many an unhappy day after work with his 'interests', finding particular satisfaction in the 'plub-plub-plub' of a wobbling mound of jello. Often times, he'd go out for walks, generally trying to avoid the stares of people. He felt a lot of discomfort in being looked at, he could never figure out why. Possibly because he was being judged, which he hated with a passion. Wouldn't you? If eyes were the window to the soul, Frank preferred to keep the lights out. Part of the reason why he'd find himself walking on the outskirts of town after a particularly heinous day at work. Marked almost always by a forgotten zero to carry.
It was during one of these times that he'd gone for a mid-day walk, having left early due to a minor error on a major account that, as is always the case with these sort of things, not his fault. You know how it goes. So after laying back in bed and staring at the ceiling, it was during this time of reflection that he decided a walk outside was in order. After all, it was a bright, sunny day outside, middle of the day, and he lived alone by a lake. What could happen?
He'd walked about halfway around the lake. It was divided into two rather distinct halved, seperated by an odd partition of rocks in the shape of of a chevron, bisecting the body of water quite neatly. He'd settled himself on a vista overlooking the lake, a somewhat deep gulley off to his left, laying down on the grassy knoll and tossing stones into the lake, another of his little habits. He sat on the banks for about an hour or so before closing his eyes and drifting of to sleep, dreaming of soft blankets and a world where things weren't so frightening and overwhelming. A wonderful dream to be sure, and one that wouldn't be interrupted, considering the locale. But as we all know, life is a funny thing, and often the simplest acts can make us look like fools, or even make us very very dead.
Sometimes both, but we try not to talk about those incidents, lest we upset the children.
Frank, in one of life's little quirks, had rolled over in his sleep. Not a particularly dangerous thing to happen, but it can have dire consequences when you fall asleep next to a ravine with a fifty foot sheer drop to the bottom, and you roll over. Which is exactly what happened. In hindsight, Frank could have probably slept closer to the center of the knoll, maybe even on the edge of the bay, but that's the thing about hindsight. His eyes snapped open as he tumbled off, his shoulder hitting a stray root jutting out the side of the cliff, and down he went. He screamed, as is the common thing to do in cases like this, his gaze turned skyward, and watching the sky spiral away from him, his scrawny form wheeling about in midair, hot stinging tears already rising in his eyes. This is how it ends? He asked himself this right away, regretting many many things in his all too short life. Never asking Emily at work out on that date, never having the guts to tell his boss at work where to shove it, and wishing that he could have at least had a friend, one true friend to make the days a bit more bearable.
Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about his sudden crisis of self, or the imminent threat of having the landscape be the last thing through his mind. About two seconds after falling and screaming (time passes quite differently when your'e about to shuffle loose this mortal coil), he landed in something very soft, very warm, and made an oddly distinct noise when he landed, or at least that was how he heard it at the time.
Plub. His screams were instantly muffled as he got a mouthful of fluff. He blinked and let out a strangled, heavily muted grunt of surprise, trying to straighten out and get a bearing on exactly what the hell happened and how he was still alive. This was met with some resistance, or rather, lack thereof as his palms and knees pressed into the maleable surface, offering little tension for him to get back on his feet. This, of course, led to him falling back down onto his back this time, the strange, wobbling, fluffy surfaces dimpling about his thin, stork-like body. Frank yelped as he slipped, determined to get back on his feet and get to the bottom of this... but paused for a moment, his palms meeting the swells and curves of his impromptu cushion and running delicately over them, to his left and right. His palms played over the silken surface, fine and soft, and colored in a rather fetching creamy beige color. He rested his head back, shivering slightly as the pliable lumps conformed about his slightly angled head and cheeks, letting out a low, shuddering sigh of contentment, He gave the softness he was resting in a gentle tapping with his fingers, stifling a little giggle of glee, a rapid series of wobbles and plubs resounding beneath his fingertips. Frank beamed brightly, leaning back and looking at the sky far above, extending his legs a bit to get as comfortable as he could to finish his nap... Only to meet with some rather firm resistance. Raising his eyebrow, he lifted his head and looked down...
Noting that his shoes had connected with a rather formidable piece of fabric. Robin's Egg Blue in color. With a little blue bow just visible over the curves he was laying between. A closer inspection also yielded the discovery that his 'bed' was also heaving slightly. A cold sweat breaking out over his brow, he slowly craned his neck back...
The creature was feline. That much was certain, partially because of the eyes. Mostly it was the low, constant rumbling which the (un)lucky little man had realized was purring. She was qutie fetching, for a macro beast, with rich, orange hair not unlike his own, only made more prominent by the blue highlights it came to down towards the tips, and her fur that wasn't part of her rather ample chest was a lovely mocha. Her eyes, also a rich, vivacious blue, kept their gaze on him, watching him with a look that was rather difficult to read. It was with no uncertain amount of mounting mollification and terror (and just a bit of inner glee) that he'd fallen into her cleavage. the bra was a dead giveway, but the fact that he'd managed to catch her just as she was hiking the tortured article up, pinning him between her cleft rather than fall through...
Well, fate has a rather naughty sense of humor.
Oddly enough though, she was smiling. And not a typical cat smile of 'Oh I've found my next meal', but rather a charming, gentle, rather congenial smile. Frank was still petrified though, those big baby blues still locked on him. He contemplated burrowing down out of sight, but he got the feeling it would be innapropriate. Her smile only broadened as he blushed a deeper hue of red, her mouth opening... He cringed in fear, waiting for the end to come on swift, crunchy wings...
"Hi there!" He was instead assailed with a cheerful, bubbly voice, the massive feline's gaze and smile focused fully on him. Frank blinked, not sure what to make of the situation. He was a social misfit, but he at least knew some rules of social conduct. Introductions! Right, that was the key.
"...Um... Hi?" He squeeked. The feline keeping the little human in her thrall giggled warmly, giving a perfunctory hop of excitement, resulting in her occupant wobbling precariously.
"Oh wow, where did you come from? Up there? I smelled a little man sleeping up on the knoll but I never thought it's besomeonesolittleandadorableandwhat'syournamecanyoutellme?" The last torrent of words came out as just that, and Frank barely had time to register it all before stammering out a response.
"F-Frank..?" He said meekly. She let out a gleeful little yowl, hopping up and down excitedly, causing Frank to jiggle and shimmy about.
"Oh that's such a cool name! Call me Freya, that's what people call me, or at least that's what I think they call me. Hey, Frank and Freya that sounds so great togetherweshouldtotallybebestfriendswecantalkandplayandhangandcuddleand-" Freya was a bit of a motormouth it would seem, and Frank did the best he could to calm her down, but some levels of giddiness and excitement can't be quelled. The most you can do is ride it out, and that's precidely what Frank did. He gave her bust a playful prod, smiling sheepishly, despite himself.
It's hard to say what happened with the two. The thing that is for certain though? Frank found a new appreciation for the bigger things in life. And that's just how things should be, really.
Ducky by a bit of artwork they did. I'm aware how fast the pace is, it's not my best work by a long shot, but it was something to get back on my feet. Plus, it was kind of fun to get to writing again, something I really have to do more of. Ducky's work is also really cool, it has a very bouncy, soft and cuddly quality to it. G'wan and give 'em a look!The original submission that sparked this:
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/4818061
Thumbnail and original artwork ©
Ducky============
Frank was not, by all accounts, a bad man, in the same measure that the tax agent auditing your taxes and evicting you from your property on misfiled paperwork is not a bad man, he's simply doing his job. It might not be a job that one makes friends in easily, and almost always guarantees someone will spike your coffee with laxatives as a cruel way of forcing you expelling all the professional crap you're full of. By an odd coincidence, Frank was also a tax agent, and by default, was a social pariah. That's two for two, and going for the hat trick, he was also kind of a pushover.
It's really a surprise how he landed himself into his current situation. 'Landed' being the operative word. He glanced upwards, blushing heavily, frozen with a mixture of fear, dread, and comfort, two massive, inquisitive blue eyes bearing down on his little form...
A man of simple tastes and pleasures, Frank found joy in the little things in life, because the big things were often far too scary and expensive for him. Running his fingers over a plush blanket that's just been dry cleaned, laying back in bed and simply staring at the ceiling, poking at jell-o molds with spoons... Little, innocuous things; insignificant harmless hobbies that were victimless and didn't require interaction with another human being. Frank could only dream of having normal interactions with other people. As it stood, he always just hung out by the chips and dip at the office Christmas party, usually somewhere over by the water cooler.
The water cooler ended up getting more attention, by sheer merit of being more refreshing.
The basic upshot was that Frank was a very lonely man, living in a world of huge numbers and little margins. Keep it in the black, the way of a number cruncher; always in the minute details and not in the big picture. It was never about what the money, which he made a fair amount of. It was usually about trying to find joy in a soul crushing place of work, which I'm pretty sure anyone can equate to. Doctors got thank you letters and even little hamsters named after them, postal workers found joy in getting the mail through, and even lawyers had a very wicked sense of fulfillment in bleeding the defendant dry in lengthy litigation suits. Accountants, not so much.
So Frank wiled away many an unhappy day after work with his 'interests', finding particular satisfaction in the 'plub-plub-plub' of a wobbling mound of jello. Often times, he'd go out for walks, generally trying to avoid the stares of people. He felt a lot of discomfort in being looked at, he could never figure out why. Possibly because he was being judged, which he hated with a passion. Wouldn't you? If eyes were the window to the soul, Frank preferred to keep the lights out. Part of the reason why he'd find himself walking on the outskirts of town after a particularly heinous day at work. Marked almost always by a forgotten zero to carry.
It was during one of these times that he'd gone for a mid-day walk, having left early due to a minor error on a major account that, as is always the case with these sort of things, not his fault. You know how it goes. So after laying back in bed and staring at the ceiling, it was during this time of reflection that he decided a walk outside was in order. After all, it was a bright, sunny day outside, middle of the day, and he lived alone by a lake. What could happen?
He'd walked about halfway around the lake. It was divided into two rather distinct halved, seperated by an odd partition of rocks in the shape of of a chevron, bisecting the body of water quite neatly. He'd settled himself on a vista overlooking the lake, a somewhat deep gulley off to his left, laying down on the grassy knoll and tossing stones into the lake, another of his little habits. He sat on the banks for about an hour or so before closing his eyes and drifting of to sleep, dreaming of soft blankets and a world where things weren't so frightening and overwhelming. A wonderful dream to be sure, and one that wouldn't be interrupted, considering the locale. But as we all know, life is a funny thing, and often the simplest acts can make us look like fools, or even make us very very dead.
Sometimes both, but we try not to talk about those incidents, lest we upset the children.
Frank, in one of life's little quirks, had rolled over in his sleep. Not a particularly dangerous thing to happen, but it can have dire consequences when you fall asleep next to a ravine with a fifty foot sheer drop to the bottom, and you roll over. Which is exactly what happened. In hindsight, Frank could have probably slept closer to the center of the knoll, maybe even on the edge of the bay, but that's the thing about hindsight. His eyes snapped open as he tumbled off, his shoulder hitting a stray root jutting out the side of the cliff, and down he went. He screamed, as is the common thing to do in cases like this, his gaze turned skyward, and watching the sky spiral away from him, his scrawny form wheeling about in midair, hot stinging tears already rising in his eyes. This is how it ends? He asked himself this right away, regretting many many things in his all too short life. Never asking Emily at work out on that date, never having the guts to tell his boss at work where to shove it, and wishing that he could have at least had a friend, one true friend to make the days a bit more bearable.
Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about his sudden crisis of self, or the imminent threat of having the landscape be the last thing through his mind. About two seconds after falling and screaming (time passes quite differently when your'e about to shuffle loose this mortal coil), he landed in something very soft, very warm, and made an oddly distinct noise when he landed, or at least that was how he heard it at the time.
Plub. His screams were instantly muffled as he got a mouthful of fluff. He blinked and let out a strangled, heavily muted grunt of surprise, trying to straighten out and get a bearing on exactly what the hell happened and how he was still alive. This was met with some resistance, or rather, lack thereof as his palms and knees pressed into the maleable surface, offering little tension for him to get back on his feet. This, of course, led to him falling back down onto his back this time, the strange, wobbling, fluffy surfaces dimpling about his thin, stork-like body. Frank yelped as he slipped, determined to get back on his feet and get to the bottom of this... but paused for a moment, his palms meeting the swells and curves of his impromptu cushion and running delicately over them, to his left and right. His palms played over the silken surface, fine and soft, and colored in a rather fetching creamy beige color. He rested his head back, shivering slightly as the pliable lumps conformed about his slightly angled head and cheeks, letting out a low, shuddering sigh of contentment, He gave the softness he was resting in a gentle tapping with his fingers, stifling a little giggle of glee, a rapid series of wobbles and plubs resounding beneath his fingertips. Frank beamed brightly, leaning back and looking at the sky far above, extending his legs a bit to get as comfortable as he could to finish his nap... Only to meet with some rather firm resistance. Raising his eyebrow, he lifted his head and looked down...
Noting that his shoes had connected with a rather formidable piece of fabric. Robin's Egg Blue in color. With a little blue bow just visible over the curves he was laying between. A closer inspection also yielded the discovery that his 'bed' was also heaving slightly. A cold sweat breaking out over his brow, he slowly craned his neck back...
The creature was feline. That much was certain, partially because of the eyes. Mostly it was the low, constant rumbling which the (un)lucky little man had realized was purring. She was qutie fetching, for a macro beast, with rich, orange hair not unlike his own, only made more prominent by the blue highlights it came to down towards the tips, and her fur that wasn't part of her rather ample chest was a lovely mocha. Her eyes, also a rich, vivacious blue, kept their gaze on him, watching him with a look that was rather difficult to read. It was with no uncertain amount of mounting mollification and terror (and just a bit of inner glee) that he'd fallen into her cleavage. the bra was a dead giveway, but the fact that he'd managed to catch her just as she was hiking the tortured article up, pinning him between her cleft rather than fall through...
Well, fate has a rather naughty sense of humor.
Oddly enough though, she was smiling. And not a typical cat smile of 'Oh I've found my next meal', but rather a charming, gentle, rather congenial smile. Frank was still petrified though, those big baby blues still locked on him. He contemplated burrowing down out of sight, but he got the feeling it would be innapropriate. Her smile only broadened as he blushed a deeper hue of red, her mouth opening... He cringed in fear, waiting for the end to come on swift, crunchy wings...
"Hi there!" He was instead assailed with a cheerful, bubbly voice, the massive feline's gaze and smile focused fully on him. Frank blinked, not sure what to make of the situation. He was a social misfit, but he at least knew some rules of social conduct. Introductions! Right, that was the key.
"...Um... Hi?" He squeeked. The feline keeping the little human in her thrall giggled warmly, giving a perfunctory hop of excitement, resulting in her occupant wobbling precariously.
"Oh wow, where did you come from? Up there? I smelled a little man sleeping up on the knoll but I never thought it's besomeonesolittleandadorableandwhat'syournamecanyoutellme?" The last torrent of words came out as just that, and Frank barely had time to register it all before stammering out a response.
"F-Frank..?" He said meekly. She let out a gleeful little yowl, hopping up and down excitedly, causing Frank to jiggle and shimmy about.
"Oh that's such a cool name! Call me Freya, that's what people call me, or at least that's what I think they call me. Hey, Frank and Freya that sounds so great togetherweshouldtotallybebestfriendswecantalkandplayandhangandcuddleand-" Freya was a bit of a motormouth it would seem, and Frank did the best he could to calm her down, but some levels of giddiness and excitement can't be quelled. The most you can do is ride it out, and that's precidely what Frank did. He gave her bust a playful prod, smiling sheepishly, despite himself.
It's hard to say what happened with the two. The thing that is for certain though? Frank found a new appreciation for the bigger things in life. And that's just how things should be, really.
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Housecat
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 11.2 kB
Comments