Here, the theme is "one day in Richelieu's life" and the words were : Jasmine, street lamp and mysterious.
Here comes my text :)
A Day in the Life of Richelieu
The day – or the night to be
precise – always started the same way for Montigny Manor’s griffin. As soon as
the sun was going on the other side of the Earth, crackles ran on the statues’
hard surface. One by one, the strange residents of this house came back to
life, everytime the sun was going down. Everyone liked to take their own place
on the big terrace located on the first floor, surmounting the garden’s woods.
Everybody, except one. A stubborn
and ill-bred fellow who kept on being isolated from the others and seemed to
like it. Grimm always waited for sunset in the gym room, surrounded by the
musculation devices as only companions. All of them in poor shape despite their
newness, showing traces of vandalism and claw marks.
As soon as his second skin was
falling down, Richelieu stretched his body and legs, hooting with satisfaction.
A hand shrugged his head with affection, flattening his feathers on the top of
his head. He closed his eyes with pleasure as a jasmine perfume filled his
nostrils. Was it Morphine, Absinthe or Mélusine ? No way it could be
Morphine who just can’t use perfumes. Why spraying useless scents if the only
persons she met were this very house’s residents ?
Absinthe ?
Perhaps, or Mélusine. Impossible to be sure because when he opened his eyes, none
of the girls were there. Delacroix always hung out on the terrace, checking the
surroundings to see with his very own eyes that nothing happened during their
stone sleep. As he was reassured, he jumped off the terrace’s edge, put earphones
in his hears, listening to his big as a washing-machine walkman, and start dancing
like a rock star.
After a long day
sleep, hunger always took over, especially with Richelieu That’s why it was no
surprise to see him rubbing against every legs he stopped by. He went near the
electric blue gargoyle with eyes full of hope. But his efforts were useless as
Delacroix was focused on Asia one hit wonder.
Too bad. He
tried again with Svenn but failed again. The big Viking gargoyle prefered to
have a chat with Professor Montigny like every calm night.
Richelieu
hooted with disappointment and headed to the kitchen. Pots were always coming
to the boil, dishes were ready to be savoured, spreading their more than
succulent scents. Maybe his bowl was full too ? At least he always could
rummage in cupboards and get served from the very pots. There were always
surprising yet succulent things to eat. Shifting from one paw to the other, the
griffin headed to this metal container, trying to find something to eat with
his tongue and beak. But his wild beast’s stomach needed more than that. His
enhanced sense of smell led him on the large counter where a big and roasty
chicken were cooling down gently. But the cook never thought about Richelieu’s
climbing skills and bottomless stomach. In no time, he jumped on the table, casting
pans and pots on the ground and dived his beak in the steaming but tasty
chicken meat.
He was
disturbed by a very shrill noise.
« AAAAHHH !
Richelieeeeeu ! Are you mad ?! Get out of here !! »
Somebody hit him with a newspaper.
« Bad cat ! Bad
bird ! »
Under Morphine’s hitting,
Richelieu had no choice but retreat and flee through the window under the
teenager’s screamings and imaginative insults. He glided to the ground and
began to hoot and spit at the little gargoyle before leaving like a prince.
Courageous, yes ! But not reckless !
The alleys in this little woods
were enlightened by old street lights that Professor Montigny installed many
years ago. It gave the woods a little English park that the Professor
particuliarly enjoyed. The griffin headed to the flight of steps leading to the
drawing room where a great fire was dancing in the chimney. Curiously, the french
window was open and nobody was there to be seen. Usually, the griffin was
persona non grata in this room full of tapestries and covered with books and
parchments. And I didn’t mention the confy armchairs, the various artefacts and
statues. An awesome playground for a griffin like Richelieu. Attracted like a
bee with a honey pot, Richelieu stepped in and took a tour with sparkling eyes.
On the walls, tapestries shew series of fantasy scenes with gargoyles-like
creatures, Children of Oberon and a knight and his armored steed. But the
griffin had no artistic nor historical interest here. What else could he
do ? He got closer to the piece of art, just to see her from a closer
point of vue and..
SCRIIIIIITCH
A Cat must use his claws and is
there something better than an ancient tapestry to put them in ?
After some ploughing, the door
opened and Mélusine screamed.
« Noooooo ! It was my
favourite tapestry !! Bad cat ! BAD KITTY ! Psss Psss ! »
But Richelieu didn’t seem to move back, keeping slashing the piece of art into
shreads. Only one solution came to Mélusine’s mind. In a flash she grabbed a
vase, threw out the flowers and splashed the griffon with left water.
« Leave the tapestry alone,
I said ! »
Richelieu bounced back and growled
with anger, bristling.
« Let’s go, go away !
You’re not allowed to be here. » Said Mélusine while she was
pushing him away by the french window. She closed the door and looked at the
vandalised tapestry with despair. Father will not be happy with this.
On the outside, Richelieu snorted
and managed to smooth his feather and leather. He hated being wet except with
his own saliva. Taking unbelievable poses, he began to lick himself everywhere
he could, flattening his dishevelled hairs and his wings feathers. A long and
hard work of precision and contorsion.
After so many exercices and
adventures, the beast began to feel tired. In a last effort, he climbed on a
tree before taking off from a reasonnable height. Heading to the terrace,
Richelieu walked to Grimm’s room where he knew his basket and cushions were
waiting for him. But he stopped next to the room where Absinthe was reading on
a couch next to an english window. The griffin went and scrubbed against her
legs with lots of purrings before falling asleep on her feet.
« Pff, always asking for
food, cuddles or sleeping, this big fellow. » She mumbled. He was
still purring while asleep, his eyes closed, his chest going up and down with
regularity.
She couldn’t hide a shy smile
despite her sight and crouched next to him to give him a big hug. After all,
she always envied the kids who won giant pandas plushes in the carnivals where
she was condamned to stay away from.
Whatever. At least Richelieu
loved hugs. And he choked the white gargoyle with all his weight under tons of
purring.
« Ahhh you’re choking
me ! » she said moving her arms and releasing around a great
scent of Jasmine perfume.
-THE END -
- Karell, 2009
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