Amy (xcrazylegs27x) wrote in fm_alchemist,
Amy
xcrazylegs27x
fm_alchemist

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Yay for introduction and fanfic in the same post!

Hello, all! I'm new to this community and I thought I'd post the fanfiction I wrote yesterday. This is also posted on fanfiction.net under the pen name Rykeroza.

 Title: Vexation
Type: Angst? General? i don't know
Summary: It sounded like nothing, but it was surely there.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Episode 25 (if you squint)

 

Vexation

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The generic clock, hung on the wall, ticked. Its thinnest hand moved simultaneously with every tick and every tock.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Every second was greeted by a tick or a tock. It seemed to be counting down the seconds, the minutes, the hours left in the day. The hours left in the week, the year.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The volume of the ticking and tocking was just precisely quiet enough to go unnoticed by passerby, but just precisely loud enough to become extremely irritating to the occupant of the room in which the clock was hung.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The occupant of the said room was sitting at a desk cluttered in papers. Important documents, to be exact. Important documents waiting to be signed by the important occupant of the room in which the ticking clock was hung. The occupant in observance was sitting at the cluttered desk, signing these important documents. After every scrape of his pen across the dotted line, he would sigh, pause for a moment, and reach for the next, sadistic paper in the gruesomely large pile. His jet black hair glistened in the light of the open window, and his equally dark eyes merely scanned the text on the oh-so-important documents.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The occupant looked up at the clock on the wall. It's clever and accurate hands spoke of the two hours left until the end of the work day. He groaned for the sixth time that evening, and picked up his pen yet again. Several more papers were signed, and he was just getting on a roll, when...

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Was it just him? Or did the ticking and tocking of the clock just get louder? He shrugged his shoulders and dropped his head back down to fill out his evil, sinister paperwork. Oh, how he wished he could just pull on his gloves and set the whole stack on fire.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

He glanced up at the clock. Why was it so loud all of a sudden? It was really beginning to annoy him.

“Shut up!”

That didn’t help, as expected. The clock may have had a face and hands, but it didn’t have ears. The occupant of the room tried to go back to filling out his paperwork.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

“For crying out loud!”

He stood up and walked over to the clock. He couldn’t take the irritating tattoo of the ticking anymore. He reached up and took the clock off the wall. Turning it over, he removed the battery with a smirk. He hung it back up on the wall, and resumed signing the very important documents on his desk.

Ten minutes went by. The occupant of the room made a noticeable dent in the stack of papers waiting to be signed and approved by his very important self. He wasn’t exactly having fun, but at least he wouldn’t suffer the wrath of his first lieutenant. All of a sudden, he thought he heard a noise. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was. It’s this damn paperwork, the man thought to himself. I’ve been doing it so long I’m starting to hear things. He resumed the never-ending and almost mindless process of: slide-scan-sign-stack.

But there it was again. That noise that he kept imagining he was hearing. The occupant of the said room looked up from the military notice he was “reading” and glanced around. That noise kept bugging him. He didn’t even know what it was, and he could only hear it while he was doing paperwork. It was like…nothing. It sounded like nothing, but it was surely there. It was the sound of…

Silence.

If he stopped and listened long enough or just continued to do his paperwork, the man with the jet black hair in the room with the ticking clock (that had recently stopped ticking) could actually hear the silence. He never knew that silence, such ominous silence, could be so…loud. He dropped his head down again and tried to continue his work.

No such luck. The silence was getting louder by the second. It seemed to be screaming now, echoing through the man’s ears. He couldn’t concentrate anymore. The silence was worse than the ticking of the clock. He looked at the clock on the wall. It seemed to be laughing at him, reminding him of the annoyance it had caused him earlier and scoffing at the pain he was going through now. But the ticking, it had been so irritating. It was as irritating as someone constantly flaunting photos in his face, constantly calling him to discuss pointless matters, reminding him of his duties and pestering him to get married.

And that’s when it hit him. This astounding silence, this roaring nothing-ness in the room that pulsated in his ears and caused him to squint, had always been there. He had just covered it up with the constant, rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. And now the ticking had died. The slightly vexing sound had died.

The occupant of the now silent room jumped out of his chair, grabbing the clock battery on his desk as he went. He ripped the clock off the wall once more and shoved the battery back inside. The ticking resumed, and the clock was re-hung on the wall.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

He needed that sound. He needed that ticking, that tocking, that slight irritation to get any work done and to keep his sanity. To climb to the top. And as annoying as it could be, it was much better than the silence it covered up. Because the silence, the nothing-ness, is what he felt inside.

~*~ 

I got the idea for this when I was taking my high school placement test. I had finished and I was sitting doing nothing when all I could hear was the annoying sound of the electricity generator. It was starting to drive me nuts, but I knew that if it stopped I would go even more crazy. Because I know that, at least for me, the sound of silence is much more annoying the the ticking of a clock or the hum of a generator. I know this fic is short, but it -is- a drabble. And there are no names in it on purpose, I thought it set the mood better that way. Hope you liked =D

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