The following story is an outcome of what happens when my proof reader and I write a story together.
There is a lot of OC-ness. We just wrote this for the hell of it. Its a christmas present to my dear penpal Woolfred. Some of the characters may not act correctly, but just go with the flow. It's just suppose to be funny.
Tell me what you think. Maybe if I get enough good response, I'll con my proof reader into co-writing with me again.
Disclaimer applies: I do not own Trinity Blood.
Trinity Blood: The Bad Abel Blues.
It was a magical place, especially for someone with a stomach as bottomless as Abel Nightroad's. Abel's mouth oozed long streams as he gazed upon the wonderful treats laid out on the table. Cakes, pies, chocolates, sugared candies and to top it all off, a big pot of milk tea, with a large bowl of sugar cubes waiting for Abel like unholy succubae tempting their prey. Abel's head reeled in wonder, and he felt as if he could barely keep his feet upon the floor as he floated over to the table, streams of drool dribbling from his mouth, leaving long puddles upon the floor. His eyes gleamed with total amazement. He stood in front of all the goodies, rubbing his hands together in anticipation, his feet jittering in excitement.
"Would you like a cup of tea, Abel?" he turned his head to see Sister Esther Blanchett come into view. She didn't look much like a sister at this point. She wasn't wearing her normal attire, her white habit, but instead had donned a small, tight black mini dress with a shamefully low cut. Abel instantly forgot about the sweet treats behind him, his jaw dropping to the floor as his eyes bugged out. Esther gave him a sly smile, and sat sensuously upon the corner of the table. She crossed her legs and leaned towards Abel, letting him get an unhindered view of her better assets, "or would you like something else to eat?" the innuendo was not lost upon the priest, whose mouth now felt as dry as the Carthaginian desert.
"I…I…I…I…I…" he kept on repeating like a broken record. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and felt like it must be leaping two feet from his chest with each pump. Abel felt his cheeks burn bright red, almost the color of Esther's hair. She grinned, an evil, lustful twinkle in her eyes, and slid to her feet seductively. She seemed to glide across the tiled floor as she approached Abel, a Cheshire cat smile cast upon her beautiful face.
"What do you want, Abel?" she said as she leaned into him, her voice low and husky. The tall priest took a step back, then another, until he backed up into a stone wall.
"Abel," Esther spoke softly, stopping inches in front of him. Abel forced himself to look down at the pretty red-head.
"I…um…uh…hello…Esther," he stammered, "um…Esther?" she pressed her body against his, "Esther?"
"I know, Abel," she spoke softly while reaching up and pulling off his glasses, "I know," she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, "that you want me, Abel." the priest gulped. She rubbed her hands up and down his chest as she breathed in his scent.
"Esther," Abel was losing his mind, "um…are you drunk?" he gave himself a mental kick as soon as the words left his mouth. Idiot! Don't mess up a good thing! Esther, however, giggled playfully.
"Stop denying it, Abel," she looked back up at him. *Beep!* Abel glanced around for the offending bird, but could find none. He could feel her breath on his lips as she grasped his chin firmly and turned his head toward her. As if on auto-pilot, the priest leaned forward to kiss the redheaded temptress. She leaned away, smiling, beckoning him toward her. *Beep!* Let the blasted little thing chirp away. He finally touched his lips to hers. They tasted sweeter than sugar itself. Abel felt as if he was going to lose himself within her passion. *Beep!* The bird was getting more insistent, as if they'd forgotten to include it in the fun. Abel ignored it, his lips moving down Esther's throat as she moaned in pleasure. He found himself holding her tightly against him. *Beep!* The little bastard was starting to annoy him. *Beep beep!* It sure did know how to spoil the moment. *Beep beep beep!* He forced the shoulder strap of Esther's dress down as his lips followed. Esther giggled and moved against him. *Beepbeepbeepbeep!* What the…? *Beepbeeepbeeepbeeeepbeeeeep…*
*Beeeepbeeeepbeeeepbeeeepbeeeep!* Abel opened his left eye and looked at the offending alarm clock. One of these days, he just knew he was going to end up throwing it out the highest window he could find. He rolled over and shut the blasted contraption off, silencing its incessant whine. As he yawned, he noticed an odd taste in his mouth, and feathers floating all about his head. Abel sat up and pulled more of the downy white feathers out of his mouth. He rolled his eyes and looked down at his pillow. Sure enough, he had bitten one corner clean off, and had begun eating the feathers, disemboweling his pillow in a massacre of down.
"Oh, for crying out loud," he groaned. It was the fifth pillow he had mutilated in the past two months. He rubbed his sleep filled eyes and yawned, sputtering up a few more feathers. It was going to be a bad day, he had a feeling. His bad days usually started with these erotic, totally inappropriate dreams about Esther, and his little breakfast of goose down. He'd bet the four dinars in his pocket that it was going to get even worse. He looked back down at his clock and groaned; he had slept in. Abel dragged himself out of bed and staggered to the closet, cursing as he struggled into his robes. He looked down and cursed again as he pulled the robes off enough to turn them around the right way. He finished dressing groggily and rushed out of his quarters, following the long route towards Cardinal Caterina's office, trying to figure out the best excuse to give her on why he was late. Evil monkeys in the closet? No good. Broken alarm? Overused, but possibly true in the next week or so.
Erotic dreams in which he stripped a Vatican Sister down and performed very unpriestly acts upon her? Yeah…that'd go over about as well as his sister proposing to the Pope. He scowled and beat his clenched fist against his forehead.
"Good morning, Father Nightroad," he turned and noticed Sister Esther walking up the hallway, "are you enjoying yourself, or is this some new therapy you're trying for early morning exercise?" she smiled shyly.
"Um…g' morning," he blushed and quickly dropped his fist.
"Getting a late start today?" she asked.
"Something like that," he smiled politely, spitting up another feather. Esther giggled merrily and raised a hand to cover her smile.
"You know, the kitchen is open 24 hours a day. I'm sure that they'll have something better to eat than a feathered pillow," Abel rolled his eyes, "Anyway, I was wondering if," she bit her lip, "since today is…"
"Esther. I'm very busy." he lied, a final feather squirting past his clenched teeth.
"But…" she tried to speak, half smiling as the feather settled to the floor. Abel turned and started walking down the corridor.
"I'll talk to you later, Esther, I'm very late."
"But…" Abel ignored her as he quickly walked away. He shook his head and wondered what in bloody God's name was wrong with him today. He could do every unholy, sinful thing to Esther in his dreams, but couldn't even exchange polite conversation to her face? He knew Esther would be mad at him later; he'd have to remember to do something to make it up to her. Maybe take her out for some tea, a quick lunch…
…strip her down and…he smacked himself again, grimacing and rubbing his forehead as the red imprint of his palm began to appear. He walked the rest of the way to the Cardinal's office in silence and knocked quietly upon her door.
"Enter!" he heard the Cardinal call out. He took a deep breath, composed himself, double checked for feathers, and stepped into Caterina's office. The Cardinal was sitting behind her desk, sipping on some herbal tea. She glanced up, her eyes lingering momentarily upon the red palm print on his forehead, her smile hidden by her teacup.
"Well," she set the cup down, smiling, "I'm surprised you were actually able to untangle yourself from your bed sheets long enough to make our appointment." Abel smiled sheepishly.
"Yes, well, I am glad you understand the dangers of those sheets. You know how easily one can become entwined. Rather dangerous, if I do say so myself," he grinned, and another feather floated out. How did I miss that?
"I take it you had a bad night?" Caterina watched the feather fall to the floor as Abel quickly seated himself with a yawn, nodding sleepily, "I see… woke up with feathers in your mouth again?"
"I swear, they're like omens to let me know just how bad my day is going to get."
"And is it?" Abel nodded, casting his eyes downward.
"Well, I know I've already upset Esther," he spoke shamefully.
"How?" Caterina asked kindly.
"Well… I kind of…" Abel chuckled nervously, "brushedheroffonthewayhere," he coughed into his fist.
"Beg your pardon? I didn't quite catch that," Caterina stared deep into Abel's eyes.
"Brushed her off on the way here," he sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Really? And do you know why she wanted to talk to you?"
"No. I said I would speak to her later," Abel frowned as Caterina chuckled to herself, "what's so funny?"
"Abel, for all your 900 years, sometimes you are like a child. It's Sister Blanchett's birthday. I gave everyone the day off. She probably wanted to spend some time with you," the priest felt himself go light-headed and sank into his chair, his arms hanging limply over the chair's as his stomach started to churn like boiling water, "she is rather fond of you, you know," Caterina gazed at him over the rim of her cup as she took another sip.
"Her birthday?" he took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, "her birthday? Why doesn't anyone tell me any of these things?"
"I did," Caterina stated, "last week, when I told everyone that we were going to have a party for her this afternoon. Apparently, you were not paying attention. As usual. No wonder you have such bad days, Abel," he shook his head. He hadn't thought about Esther's birthday, and he knew that he had nothing more than four dinars in his wallet. It was another week until his monthly stipend. Caterina leaned forward and smiled at her old friend, "So why don't you go and at least apologize to Esther? Take her out for a nice lunch?" he nodded and got to his feet, "And while you're at it," Abel looked at her, "try and have a good day. I hate it when you get the bad day blues. It's extremely annoying," he rolled his eyes, "to all of us. Including Esther," Abel's eyes snapped forward in horror as Caterina grinned slyly.
"Will that be all, Cardinal?"
"Unless you don't remove yourself from my office before I finish my next sip," she said sternly as she brought the teacup to her lips. Abel bolted from her office and Caterina sighed heavily.
"One day, friend of mine," she spoke into the air, "you're going to be the death of me."
Abel ventured out into the main courtyard and sat down at a nearby fountain. He knew he was in serious trouble with Esther. Usually he could get out of it with a little bumbling, stammering and general idiocy. But this time he would have to do something more, which would probably reduce him to sheer embarrassment with no self dignity left, that was if he had any to begin with. Maybe a few dog tricks? Heel, sit, roll over?
Beg for mercy? Drop dead? He planted his face in his hands and breathed out heavily, rubbing his sore forehead.
"Well," he sighed, stretching as the sun's rays warmed his body, "I guess a severely annoyed woman can't be worse than an army of Methuselah, and I've survived that before," he planted his hands behind him as he leaned back and gazed up at the sky, "although they sure don't look as good in a miniskirt," he smiled to himself. He quickly sat up and smacked himself again, darkening the red palm print on his head.
"Hey, Father Four-eyes!" Father Leon called as he and the Professor approached, gifts in hand, "sounds like you're having an interesting day. Did I hear something about an army of Methuselah in miniskirts?"
"Um…not quite…hi," he planted his head in his hands again, rubbing at the dark red splotch.
"Heard you pissed off Miss Esther," Leon crossed his arms, "what did you do this time?"
"Um…I'm assuming you guys are taking presents to Miss Esther?" he asked quietly. They nodded gravely, then looked at each other.
"Let me guess," the Professor quipped, "you forgot?" Abel nodded in shame as he gazed up and the Professor looked at each other again, and broke into raucous laughter.
"What's so funny?" Abel scowled. The Professor wiped tears from his eyes as Leon hooted in enjoyment.
"Well, this explains why Sister Esther's on the warpath," the Professor broke into a broad grin, "we just thought it was her time of the month!"
Leon leaned over and placed a hand on Abel's shoulder, leaning close, "Best of luck! Cover your balls!" Leon and the Professor stumbled away, gasping in fits of laughter.
"Yeah, thanks! Some friends you are!" Abel shouted at their departing backsides, "You know, Satan's got a nice cozy room for comedians like you!" he angrily rose to his feet and strode off toward the Sisters' quarters.
As Abel approached Esther's room, he slowed and composed himself, breathing in deeply and letting his anxiety flow out as he breathed out. Okay, stay calm, it can't be all that bad. I did say I was running late and would talk to her later. It'll be okay. He raised his hand and hesitated a moment before knocking lightly.
The door knocked him flat on his back as Esther popped her head out, smiling sweetly.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Father! I didn't see you there!" her voice was sugary sweet with a touch of lemons to sour it. Abel rubbed his nose as he glanced at the peep hole on her door.
"Perfectly all right, Miss Esther. Honest mistake." He began rising to his feet, but stopped short as Esther bent down and shoved her face in front of his. Even as her face grew dark with anger, he couldn't help but notice the enticing smell of her, and his eyes glazed over as he inhaled her sweetness.
"It may have been an accident, but I don't think there was any mistake to it, Father Fancy-pants!" she leaned toward him, and Abel struggled with himself as her scent grew stronger, "Here it is, my birthday, and all I wanted was a decent lunch with my friend, but noooooo, he's far too busy eating pillows and attending to his oh-so-important schedule to take two minutes to set up a lunch date! What do you have to say for yourself now, Father Featherhead?" she stood up, hands on hips.
As her scent retreated, Abel finally snapped out of his daze long enough to realize she'd asked him a question.
"Huh?" he asked dizzily.
"Oh!" she cried, outraged, as she stalked past him, her hands in fists at her sides, the most unladylike obscenities trailing in her wake. Abel sighed as she departed.
She was so cute when she was angry…
Second part is coming soon. (It's a two shot. We're working on the second half.)
Lil~Rahl (A Division of Crusniks-R-Us)