Ficlet onna card before the card goes out
Dec. 30th, 2005 12:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
petroniaFor ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serendip. She requested the suffering and travails of TRC!Eriol. XD As a bonus I made it steampunk!TRC!Eriol, so as to be able to post to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
myriad_myriad for December, which is why this is going up now. XD
Teatime
It took two hours flat on his back on a trolley in the crawl space beneath Beast to identify the faulty butterfly valve, and a further hour to wrest said segment of brass piping from the machine infernale and replace it with another. Eriol emerged sylleptically, in his shirtsleeves and a temper. He removed his work gloves, tossed them in the corner formed by his desk and the far wall, wiped spots of machine oil off his spectacles with a much-abused handkerchief and pulled the lever for tea.
A chain and pulley mechanism lifted a porcelain cup off a stack of its fellows and deposited it with a clink on a round metal sluice. The pressure threw a switch, overturning a small tin bowl of milk above it. Valves opened, others closed. There was a sustained gurgle (the heating mechanism was rigged to Beast's steam supply, but the water was pumped in fresh). In moments a thin stream of brown liquid issued from a spigot at the base of the contraption, filling the cup to two-thirds. It steamed, but emitted no fragrance. Eriol removed the cup from its holder, sipped – and grimaced in what would have been an unseemly manner, had there been a bystander to bear witness. He reached out and pulled another lever, this one attached to a velvet cord that ran along the wall and disappeared through a hole in the ceiling.
The response was somewhat tardy. At length Nakuru entered, her spotless maid's uniform and ready smile in marked contrast to her employer's ruffled appearance.
"The tea leaves in the machine need changing," he told her. "The purpose is defeated if I must remind you twice a day. The filter as well – in addition to its unconscionable weakness, the brew has a decided note of wet rice paper."
"I will bring you a cup of tea, Master," Nakuru promised, and skipped upstairs. Eriol detected ill-hidden triumph in the lightness of her step, and scowled.
"Luddite! Saboteuse!"
In truth the filtering mechanism left somewhat to be desired at the best of times, but he entertained great hopes of refining the process. If only the damnable creature—
He dropped a hand on Beast's gleaming flank, with a sigh. The oak panel was warm. Deep within its chest Beast rumbled, hungry for raw data to fuel its calculation. His knowing touch to set all in motion: hammers, levers, belts, pulleys, rods, turbines...
He climbed the short ladder to the organist's pit, drew up the bench and sat, gazing down at the sealed glass "boiler" chamber around which Beast was built. A feather hung within, improbably, held by magnetic stones in vacuum. As if sensing him it began to glow with a faint rosy light, pulsating like a sluggish heartbeat.
"Once more, da capo," he said, and spread his fingers over the keys.
serendip. She requested the suffering and travails of TRC!Eriol. XD As a bonus I made it steampunk!TRC!Eriol, so as to be able to post to myriad_myriad for December, which is why this is going up now. XDTeatime
It took two hours flat on his back on a trolley in the crawl space beneath Beast to identify the faulty butterfly valve, and a further hour to wrest said segment of brass piping from the machine infernale and replace it with another. Eriol emerged sylleptically, in his shirtsleeves and a temper. He removed his work gloves, tossed them in the corner formed by his desk and the far wall, wiped spots of machine oil off his spectacles with a much-abused handkerchief and pulled the lever for tea.
A chain and pulley mechanism lifted a porcelain cup off a stack of its fellows and deposited it with a clink on a round metal sluice. The pressure threw a switch, overturning a small tin bowl of milk above it. Valves opened, others closed. There was a sustained gurgle (the heating mechanism was rigged to Beast's steam supply, but the water was pumped in fresh). In moments a thin stream of brown liquid issued from a spigot at the base of the contraption, filling the cup to two-thirds. It steamed, but emitted no fragrance. Eriol removed the cup from its holder, sipped – and grimaced in what would have been an unseemly manner, had there been a bystander to bear witness. He reached out and pulled another lever, this one attached to a velvet cord that ran along the wall and disappeared through a hole in the ceiling.
The response was somewhat tardy. At length Nakuru entered, her spotless maid's uniform and ready smile in marked contrast to her employer's ruffled appearance.
"The tea leaves in the machine need changing," he told her. "The purpose is defeated if I must remind you twice a day. The filter as well – in addition to its unconscionable weakness, the brew has a decided note of wet rice paper."
"I will bring you a cup of tea, Master," Nakuru promised, and skipped upstairs. Eriol detected ill-hidden triumph in the lightness of her step, and scowled.
"Luddite! Saboteuse!"
In truth the filtering mechanism left somewhat to be desired at the best of times, but he entertained great hopes of refining the process. If only the damnable creature—
He dropped a hand on Beast's gleaming flank, with a sigh. The oak panel was warm. Deep within its chest Beast rumbled, hungry for raw data to fuel its calculation. His knowing touch to set all in motion: hammers, levers, belts, pulleys, rods, turbines...
He climbed the short ladder to the organist's pit, drew up the bench and sat, gazing down at the sealed glass "boiler" chamber around which Beast was built. A feather hung within, improbably, held by magnetic stones in vacuum. As if sensing him it began to glow with a faint rosy light, pulsating like a sluggish heartbeat.
"Once more, da capo," he said, and spread his fingers over the keys.
