07-08-2025, 02:58 PM
you are so good to me. i shall retrieve my SW ficlets from the depths of the sock drawer to bask once more in the open air.
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This was my character piece, trying to figure out who my girl was.
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“You use a sledgehammer?”
The tone is faintly unbelieving. He eyes me from an easy dozen strides away, taking in the grey suit with its crisply rolled up cuffs, the sweetly pressed crease on the pants, the sensible matching shoes. His gaze lingers at the tasteful gold chain at my throat before falling almost guiltily to the slightly daring midriff top I chose to pair the ensemble with today. There’s no point, after all, of being too much a slave to the expected.
I wonder if he sees precisely what I wish him to see, if my outward projection has held through the somewhat unexpected exertions of the afternoon. Fit, healthy, not too tall, not too short, somewhat delicate of bone, at least outwardly. The artful tousle of hair in waves that can hold up to a little damage without coming apart entirely. The tennis build, yes? With only the sleek knob of bone at my wrists to speak of anything else, the suit jacket hiding all else with its relaxed fit.
Well, and the hammer. No child’s toy, this. A quite generous three feet of handle, roughened at the pivot, the heavy weight of the head a familiar drag near my hip. It’s an odd weapon, certainly, more suited to a man a foot greater than myself with burly arms, chapped lips, a plaid shirt meant for rough weather and a rougher accent to match.
You see, it’s all about control. Momentum. Conservation of the laws of motion and energy; that which is at rest wishes to stay at rest. You remember, don’t you? They teach that everywhere. That which is in motion wishes to stay in motion.
A hammer is a weapon without pretence of apology. A hammer, once started, does not want to stop. In fact, it cannot stop. Each vector, each arc, each translation of intent is a negotiation between muscle, brain and gravity. Maximum impact, maximum damage, the whole thing a dance that once started, has no desire to stop.
I have no desire to stop. I will take this to the very top and impact… impact I will have.
He’s still staring at me from the safety of his cheap synthetic jacket, cheap jeans, cheap sunglasses, cheap thoughts. I shrug, inspecting a cuff for a moment for any dirt that might have smudged the colour unacceptably.
“Why, yes. I do like something solid to hold, you know.”
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This was my character piece, trying to figure out who my girl was.
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Impact
“You use a sledgehammer?”
The tone is faintly unbelieving. He eyes me from an easy dozen strides away, taking in the grey suit with its crisply rolled up cuffs, the sweetly pressed crease on the pants, the sensible matching shoes. His gaze lingers at the tasteful gold chain at my throat before falling almost guiltily to the slightly daring midriff top I chose to pair the ensemble with today. There’s no point, after all, of being too much a slave to the expected.
I wonder if he sees precisely what I wish him to see, if my outward projection has held through the somewhat unexpected exertions of the afternoon. Fit, healthy, not too tall, not too short, somewhat delicate of bone, at least outwardly. The artful tousle of hair in waves that can hold up to a little damage without coming apart entirely. The tennis build, yes? With only the sleek knob of bone at my wrists to speak of anything else, the suit jacket hiding all else with its relaxed fit.
Well, and the hammer. No child’s toy, this. A quite generous three feet of handle, roughened at the pivot, the heavy weight of the head a familiar drag near my hip. It’s an odd weapon, certainly, more suited to a man a foot greater than myself with burly arms, chapped lips, a plaid shirt meant for rough weather and a rougher accent to match.
You see, it’s all about control. Momentum. Conservation of the laws of motion and energy; that which is at rest wishes to stay at rest. You remember, don’t you? They teach that everywhere. That which is in motion wishes to stay in motion.
A hammer is a weapon without pretence of apology. A hammer, once started, does not want to stop. In fact, it cannot stop. Each vector, each arc, each translation of intent is a negotiation between muscle, brain and gravity. Maximum impact, maximum damage, the whole thing a dance that once started, has no desire to stop.
I have no desire to stop. I will take this to the very top and impact… impact I will have.
He’s still staring at me from the safety of his cheap synthetic jacket, cheap jeans, cheap sunglasses, cheap thoughts. I shrug, inspecting a cuff for a moment for any dirt that might have smudged the colour unacceptably.
“Why, yes. I do like something solid to hold, you know.”
