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Mismash: Chapter 1

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The newly completed Elizabeth Tower stood over London, heralding messages of a new age of hope and prosperity for England and its people. Some people, however, grievously misunderstood the message. People like Doctor Isaac Cratchit. To him, this wonderful feat of modern engineering was most certainly beautiful, and definitely an achievement, but as it wasn't his achievement he couldn't bring himself to care. No, in his mind, it was a perfect place for him to draw attention to himself.

He stood at the top of the tower, as high as he could possibly go. His brown hair whipped in the wind, and he found it rather difficult to keep his top hat atop his head. He'd dressed in his Sunday best for this; brown pants made of the finest fabric and a pair of expensive shoes, a nice blue dress shirt (with brand new cufflinks), his favorite vest, a top hat, and a tie. He was starting to wish he'd dressed warmer; it was the middle of January, and snow was falling lazily from the sky, as if some kind of higher power was trying to break his spirit by reminding him of the age old rule, "what goes up must come down".

He took a deep breath and held a large tube to his mouth; something of his own invention. It was formed in such a way that it could carry his voice over extreme distances. "PEOPLE OF LONDON!" he shouted, "TODAY IS GOING TO BE A DAY THAT YOU WILL ALL REMEMBER FOR YEARS TO COME!"

People on the street below stopped and squinted. "Is that Isaac Cratchit again?" someone whispered.

"Yes, I think so. Another one of his crazy schemes again, I'm sure. One of these days he's going to get himself killed."

The inventor was blissfully unaware of the talk on the ground, and so continued with his speech. "TODAY IS THE DAY THAT MAN FLIES! NOT WITH A ZEPPELIN, NOT WITH AN AEROPLANE, OR EVEN A BALLOON! TODAY, WE FLY WITH WINGS!" A pause for dramatic effect… he crouched down and opened a bag, pulling a complicated looking contraption out of it. It was a pair of mechanical wings, made from intricate pieces of machinery and metal that he'd crafted entirely by hand. There was a wind-up key on the back of it, and a pair of leather straps to go over his shoulders. It was extremely beautiful, extremely well-made, and of course, extremely dangerous. "BEHOLD, MY CREATION!"

"Oh, will he just get on with it?" a man in a monocle and top hat muttered imperiously, twirling his fantastic moustache, "I have places to be and things to do."

Isaac grinned. They were all looking at him, obviously in utter adoration. They had to be honored that he'd chosen to grace them with his presence, knowing that they were unworthy of seeing such genius. He started to wind up the key. "THIS WILL GO DOWN IN THE HISTORY BOOKS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! OUR CHILDREN AND OUR CHILDREN'S CHILDREN, AND EVEN THEIR CHILDREN, WILL REMEMBER THIS DAY AS AN UNSURMOUNTABLE FEAT OF MODERN ENGINEERING! TODAY, WE WILL FLY!" He finished winding it up just as he finished talking. (This had taken several hours of practice and rehearsing to get right). He pushed the key in and took a deep breath. The wings started to whir and vibrate a bit, and then slowly started to flap. He looked down as they got up to speed. "Oh. That's… that's quite a bit further than I expected it to be. Um… okay. I'll go on three." He took a slow breath, closing his eyes. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to stop, to turn around and walk off. On any other day, he would have. But everyone was watching him, waiting for him to show them something absolutely incredible that only he could accomplish.

So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and jumped.

***

"It was working."

"… No. No it wasn't. You crashed into the Thames, Isaac."

"That's Doctor Isaac, to you."

Isaac was sitting in a hospital bed, copious amounts of blankets draped around him. He was clutching a cup of tea in his hands, and looked rather pale. Standing at the foot of the bed was a rather attractive young man. He had prematurely gray hair that was long and in a ponytail, and a pair of thin wire glasses on his face. He was tall and handsome, with a deceptively delicate jawline and a lithely muscled form. He was wearing a complete formal Navy uniform, ironed and starched to the point where Isaac wouldn't have been surprised if it stood up on its own. The fabric was light blue with golden embroidery all around, and it only took a momemt's look for Isaac to realize that the outfit was probably worth more than its owner's life. The older man looked mildly annoyed, but it was hidden behind an artfully crafted guise of indifference. Isaac knew him much too well to be fooled, though; you could tell by the faint crease in his forehead and the way his lips were pursed just slightly more than normal. "You could have been killed," he said mildly. It was as if he were just discussing the weather; one could tell that they'd had this conversation, or variations of it, many times before.

"Well, I didn't."

"But you could have."

The two glared at each other. The man in uniform spoke up again. "Isaac, you need to stop pulling all of these crazy stunts. You're going to get yourself killed one of these days."

Isaac looked absolutely affronted by the very idea. "Killed?! I am a perfectly capable inventor! I know how to stay alive during a little experiment!"

"Judging by the way the authorities and I had to fish you out of the river, I'd say you're not."

For some reason his half brother's calm demeanor made the entire situation that much more frustrating.  It would be so much easier to be angry with him if he acted like he was angry as well. If he could provoke him he'd feel a bit more justified in yelling at him. "What, Vincie? I thought you liked a bit of water."

He sighed. "Isaac, I told you not to call me that."

"Well, if you won't call me by my formal title, I won't call you by yours," Isaac said with a wicked grin.

One could almost hear his clothing creaking as Vince moved, going to stand beside the bed. He rubbed his forehead with his forefinger and thumb. "Very well, Doctor Isaac."

The smug grin on Isaac's face was enough to make the taller man want to punch him. The man made it extremely difficult to keep himself in check. He opened his mouth to say more, but a young woman in a white dress walked into the hospital room. She had long blonde hair with brown highlights in it, and moss green eyes. Vince turned and gave a deep, polite bow. "Evening, ma'am."

She paused, giving him a terse, polite smile that didn't reach her eyes. She nodded, going into a shallow half-curtsy. "Evening." She turned to Isaac, who, when she'd entered the room, had begun preening and patting himself down to make sure he looked presentable. "How do you feel, Mr. Cratchit?"

Isaac shot her a bright, extremely charming smile. "Doctor Cratchit. Better now that you're here, miss Zanotti."

She gave him a flat look. "Cute. You had such a bad case of hypothermia that the doctor didn't think you'd survive. I'm beginning to think that you're ending up in the hospital all the time on purpose."

Vince glanced at his half-brother, who had suddenly gone a substantial shade of red. He allowed himself a smirk. Isaac shot him a venomous glare before turning a bright, charming smile to the nurse. "Why would I do that, Miss Zanotti? I hate being cooped up in hospital beds like this." Even if all of the nurses are heart-wrenchingly lovely… especially her.

She gave him a flat look. "Right. You can leave in the morning. Do you need anything?"

"Just the company of a lovely lady such as yourself," he said with a wink.

Vince didn't think he'd ever seen someone look as disgusted as she did in that moment. "… I'll pass, Mr. Cratchit. Have a good evening." She turned and strode off.

Vince turned to Isaac, one eyebrow raised. "Amberly Zanotti, Isaac? Are you serious?"

Isaac scowled. "She's a lovely woman; she'd make a fantastic wife."

"Don't you think she's a bit high class for you? Her father is one of the biggest fabric importers in England."

Isaac laughed. "Oh, Vincie, no one's too high class for me. I bet I could take the Queen out for dinner if I asked!"

The door was opened once again, and the half brothers looked up. A man in a police uniform was standing there. "Mr. Cratchit, you're under arrest."
Chapter 1 of Mismash! :D This is a bit more lighthearted than the intro.

Isaac Cratchit and Vince Bundy were adopted from *pockychopstix. Amberly Zinotti was adopted from ~AnimaMagica.

Let me know if you'd like to see more. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT. That's how I know if you like me or not. I really want feedback on this.

Also, this feels a little short to me. In the future do you guys think I should make the chapters longer, or keep them to this little bite-sized... size?

PROLOGUE: [link]
CHAPTER 2: [link]

DISCLAIMER: All characters ™Literate-Adopts. Their physical description, however, is ™ to the maker of the adoptable(s) in question. You may not use these characters without my explicit, written permission.
© 2012 - 2024 Literate-Adopts
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oddlittleleaf's avatar
THIS.


I LIKE THIS.

YES. MOAR. NAOW.