The Lioness: Change

Thorin's POV

written by cristianaistypingnow

I can't believe my bad luck.

~*~

I lay in my bed, fingering the positively fake gold chain around my neck. What a boring day. I've been living in my neighbours' house since my parents died when I was three. I don't want to remember it. In fact, it's a wonder I could stay at the Laws' for at least nine years straight.

Well, I suppose I'll just go and find that 'scientist'. He'll make a good arguing/ debating opponent for me.

~*~

I walked out to the lawn, and saw my friend Trafalgar Law sitting in a garden chair, reading a thick book. There was also a pile of reading materials next to him. His plain black cap on his head, as usual.

"Whatcha readin'?" I asked, trying to maintain a casual tone.

Not to my surprise, Law kept quiet and held up the book, 'Why Frogs Have A Changing Appearance'. A book of 2052 pages and no colorful pictures. Only horrible diagrams and steps of dissecting.

The ground was wet from last night's rain. I trode over to him, desperate to find something to do. Oh why, oh why di my phone and computer break down at this moment?! Then he began to speak.

"According to my calculations, the rate of your chance of slipping on the wet grass and landing in a puddle is 95%," he stated in monotine.

Bah. What a load of rwubbish. "I believe I belong to the 5% group, min- aagghhh!" As I took my next step, I lost my balance and fell face down into a puddle.

"I told you. From the speed of your pacing and the volumn of water concealed in the grass, and the fact that the cat next door slipped also, plus your stupidity, I got that rate. Serves you right."

Jeez.

~*~

School's coming, with the (utter crap) of homework. I hope I'll get some new friends. I can't bear to stay with this 'intelligent' bookworm too long. He always likes to call me along when he does his autopsy on frogs and mice. (Where did he catch 'em?)

Really, now he's made me into a habit of not fearing, or even worse, loving blood, like him. I'm as horrible as him, I guess... I stepped onto a fly, p.u.! That sticky yellow fluid (= blood?) is disgusting. If Trafalgar was here, he'd carry out all sorts of experiments with it. Poor bug.

I'll just arrange a small, er, burial for ot. The garden's so big that a couple of holes containing insects won't disturb it. Let's hope that Trafalgar won't know/ notice.

Here goes.

~*~

Such a horrifying experience just now. I got caught, and after a long debate with him, I lost. Poor bug. I still remember those horrifying reasons he gave:

"Well, what are you doing?" He suddenly clapped beside my ears, making them ring.

"Um, I was just offering this, um, poor soul to earth." I stuttered.

He raised his eyebrows "Give it to me, I'm dissecting it."

I stood up, my eyes darting frantically, "Nooo! You've slain too much!"

Law rolled his eyes sarcastically, "It's dead already, stupid. Besides, don't you know that the parts of an insect's body ca ndo both harm and good to the human body? That is very important information, capisci?"

I fell silent in defeat.

"Also, the genes from insects may interact with human genes to cause genetic changes and form mutants? *drone, blah, witter*... Now hand it over."

I handed over the fly, wrapped in a bundle of tissue. As he waslked away to his lab/bedroom/study, I heard him mutter about ruining a fine specimen.

I give up.

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