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lobelia321FICLET: "Taking a Shower"
SERIES: Nr. 2 of the Boring!Orli storyverse. Nr 1 is here .
Author: Lobelia; lobelia40@yahoo.com
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / wart
Category: More genfic.
A/N: Continuing the story of Boring!Orli's day. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hjartad for trivia on mud. This installment is for badgermonkey, to celebrate her coming of age as a Proper Teacher.
Somewhat later, Orli walked from the kitchen into the bathroom, traversing the hall on his way.
The kitchen floor was made up of cork tiles. Orli's bare feet produced a moist sucking sound upon them. The hall floor was covered in wall-to-wall carpet, a mixture of wool and rayon, with a tuft-and-loop surface. Orli's bare feet produced a muffled, shuffled sound on this carpet. The bathroom floor was imitation-tile PVC. Orli's bare feet produced a slapping sound on this vinyl.
The bathroom had no window. Orli pressed the light switch. The 60-watt bulb above the mirror, encased in a matt glass orb, came on. Orli reached into the shower cubicle, without pulling open the plastic shower curtain, and turned on the thermostat-regulated water.
While the water warmed up, Orli took off his pyjama trousers and hung them on the plastic hook at the back of the bathroom door. He took off the white T-shirt he had slept in, grabbing hold of the bottom hem and pulling the garment inside-out over his head, sleeves last. He disentangled the T-shirt, and used the size label as a loop for hanging this item of sleepwear on the bathroom door hook, over the top of the pyjama trousers.
The water made a swishing noise in the cubicle. It was a mixture of watefall-type noise against the enamel floor of the shower cubicle and drip-drip noise against the vertical shower curtain.
Orli put his hand into the shower to test the temperature. "Good. Just right."
In the shower, a plastic three-tiered shelving unit held Orli's products. They waited patiently to be used.
Orli took the shampoo bottle from the top shelf. The label read: 'MUD MAN SHAMPOO'. Below, in a smaller font, the letters spelled out: 'For the preservation of curls in men.' Orli squeezed a pound-coin size dollop of pastel green shampoo onto his right palm. He spread it throughout his hair, found a bit of hair at the back of his head that wasn't quite wet yet, bent his neck to allow the water access, and re-shampooed that part. He waited around a minute for the shampoo to be absorbed (counting the seconds by silently going 'gobbledy-one, gobbledy-two, gobbledy-three' and so forth in his mind), then he rinsed it all off.
Pastel green streams of foam meandered down his body and collected in his pubic hair.
Orli took the white bar of Lux soap from the bottom shelf and soaped himself down. He lifted his left arm and soaped his underarm with his right hand. He lifted his right arm and soaped his underarm with his left hand. He soaped his chest, employing a counter-clockwise motion. He looked up at the ceiling and soaped his throat. He looked down at the cubicle floor and soaped his nape and the area behind his ears. He dabbed his left index finger into the soap's smeary surface and swirled the finger round in his left earshell. He dabbed his right index finger into the soap and twirled the finger round in his right ear. He sneezed because a soap bubble had drifted into his nostrils.
Orli's hair was flattened into a straight helmet-like shape by the shower's waterfall.
Orli proceeded to soap his shoulders, the lower part of his back, his buttocks and his anus. He soaped the area of skin between thigh and testicular sac. He started to soap his penis.
He stopped short.
He bent down.
There was a wart on his penis.
Orli put the soap away, detached the shower nozzle from its holder and hosed his ears, his back, his buttocks and his genitals. He put the nozzle back on the wall.
He bent down.
The wart was still there.
The wart was in the middle of his penis, half-way up the stem. The wart was the size of a naturally grown pearl. The wart was pale in colour, not dissimilar to the squeezed-out teabag at the bottom of the pedal bin in the kitchen.
Orli touched the wart with his index finger. It did not hurt.
Orli took the soap, applied it to thighs, calves, feet and toes, rinsed himself, turned the shower off, reached around the shower curtain to the wall-mounted towel rail, got a fresh towel (hung there specially after the previous day's shower), towelled his body, towelled his hair, stepped out of the shower, draped the towel around his shoulders and walked back out of the bathroom (slap, slap, slap) across the hall (muffle, shuffle) into the living room (slip, slide, slop on the polished parquet floor).
He lifted the portable phone off its re-charger and pressed '3', the speed-dial digit for his G.P.
"Hello? Yes, I'd like to make an appointment to see the doctor, please. Bloom is my name. No, I'd prefer to see the male doctor, if at all possible. Thank you very much."
Orli hung up the phone.
He looked at his penis.
The wart was still there.
Orli took his electronic organiser from its habitual resting place next to the phone re-charger, pressed the relevant keys and used the digital pen to write 'G.P., 1:30' under the relevant date.
He put the organiser down.
He looked at his relevant penis.
The wart was still there.
The End.
-----
WARNING: This 'series' shall continue.
20 January 2003 (somewhat later)
lobelia40@yahoo.com
SERIES: Nr. 2 of the Boring!Orli storyverse. Nr 1 is here .
Author: Lobelia; lobelia40@yahoo.com
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / wart
Category: More genfic.
A/N: Continuing the story of Boring!Orli's day. Thanks to
hjartad for trivia on mud. This installment is for badgermonkey, to celebrate her coming of age as a Proper Teacher.Somewhat later, Orli walked from the kitchen into the bathroom, traversing the hall on his way.
The kitchen floor was made up of cork tiles. Orli's bare feet produced a moist sucking sound upon them. The hall floor was covered in wall-to-wall carpet, a mixture of wool and rayon, with a tuft-and-loop surface. Orli's bare feet produced a muffled, shuffled sound on this carpet. The bathroom floor was imitation-tile PVC. Orli's bare feet produced a slapping sound on this vinyl.
The bathroom had no window. Orli pressed the light switch. The 60-watt bulb above the mirror, encased in a matt glass orb, came on. Orli reached into the shower cubicle, without pulling open the plastic shower curtain, and turned on the thermostat-regulated water.
While the water warmed up, Orli took off his pyjama trousers and hung them on the plastic hook at the back of the bathroom door. He took off the white T-shirt he had slept in, grabbing hold of the bottom hem and pulling the garment inside-out over his head, sleeves last. He disentangled the T-shirt, and used the size label as a loop for hanging this item of sleepwear on the bathroom door hook, over the top of the pyjama trousers.
The water made a swishing noise in the cubicle. It was a mixture of watefall-type noise against the enamel floor of the shower cubicle and drip-drip noise against the vertical shower curtain.
Orli put his hand into the shower to test the temperature. "Good. Just right."
In the shower, a plastic three-tiered shelving unit held Orli's products. They waited patiently to be used.
Orli took the shampoo bottle from the top shelf. The label read: 'MUD MAN SHAMPOO'. Below, in a smaller font, the letters spelled out: 'For the preservation of curls in men.' Orli squeezed a pound-coin size dollop of pastel green shampoo onto his right palm. He spread it throughout his hair, found a bit of hair at the back of his head that wasn't quite wet yet, bent his neck to allow the water access, and re-shampooed that part. He waited around a minute for the shampoo to be absorbed (counting the seconds by silently going 'gobbledy-one, gobbledy-two, gobbledy-three' and so forth in his mind), then he rinsed it all off.
Pastel green streams of foam meandered down his body and collected in his pubic hair.
Orli took the white bar of Lux soap from the bottom shelf and soaped himself down. He lifted his left arm and soaped his underarm with his right hand. He lifted his right arm and soaped his underarm with his left hand. He soaped his chest, employing a counter-clockwise motion. He looked up at the ceiling and soaped his throat. He looked down at the cubicle floor and soaped his nape and the area behind his ears. He dabbed his left index finger into the soap's smeary surface and swirled the finger round in his left earshell. He dabbed his right index finger into the soap and twirled the finger round in his right ear. He sneezed because a soap bubble had drifted into his nostrils.
Orli's hair was flattened into a straight helmet-like shape by the shower's waterfall.
Orli proceeded to soap his shoulders, the lower part of his back, his buttocks and his anus. He soaped the area of skin between thigh and testicular sac. He started to soap his penis.
He stopped short.
He bent down.
There was a wart on his penis.
Orli put the soap away, detached the shower nozzle from its holder and hosed his ears, his back, his buttocks and his genitals. He put the nozzle back on the wall.
He bent down.
The wart was still there.
The wart was in the middle of his penis, half-way up the stem. The wart was the size of a naturally grown pearl. The wart was pale in colour, not dissimilar to the squeezed-out teabag at the bottom of the pedal bin in the kitchen.
Orli touched the wart with his index finger. It did not hurt.
Orli took the soap, applied it to thighs, calves, feet and toes, rinsed himself, turned the shower off, reached around the shower curtain to the wall-mounted towel rail, got a fresh towel (hung there specially after the previous day's shower), towelled his body, towelled his hair, stepped out of the shower, draped the towel around his shoulders and walked back out of the bathroom (slap, slap, slap) across the hall (muffle, shuffle) into the living room (slip, slide, slop on the polished parquet floor).
He lifted the portable phone off its re-charger and pressed '3', the speed-dial digit for his G.P.
"Hello? Yes, I'd like to make an appointment to see the doctor, please. Bloom is my name. No, I'd prefer to see the male doctor, if at all possible. Thank you very much."
Orli hung up the phone.
He looked at his penis.
The wart was still there.
Orli took his electronic organiser from its habitual resting place next to the phone re-charger, pressed the relevant keys and used the digital pen to write 'G.P., 1:30' under the relevant date.
He put the organiser down.
He looked at his relevant penis.
The wart was still there.
The End.
-----
WARNING: This 'series' shall continue.
20 January 2003 (somewhat later)
lobelia40@yahoo.com
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-20 08:48 am (UTC)i don't know what to think of the wart. ARGH! sequel. soon. please!
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-20 10:25 am (UTC)Yes, warts are interesting little buggers. Can't wait to read more about that particular one.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-20 01:29 pm (UTC)She saw her LJ name mentioned in the header of a fic.
She saw Orli's name mentioned also.
She realised it was all a devious plot to make her read Orlific.
"Hmm," Demelza thought, and took a sip of drink from the condensation-speckled can that sat to the right of her keyboard, next to her mouse. "This is very devious. Whatever shall I do?"
So she decided that to counteract this deviousness, she would turn herself into a character in her own fic, thus making the whole post and associated comments implode under the weight of their own postmodernity.
They did.
Demelza smiled, and took another sip.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-20 04:08 pm (UTC)Mainly I thought you would enjoy amusingpet!Orli. (Well, boringpet!Orli, but amusing and boring can be synonyms, can't they? In the tonsilworld they can, anyhow.)
Hails you in cathectedly post-structuralist mode!
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-23 02:58 pm (UTC)Anyway, after the TMI comment you left on the bottom of the fb you sent me, I am shocked by the content of this fic.
(no subject)
Date: 2003-06-23 04:04 pm (UTC)Are you telepathic? Or have you spoken to
But why are you *shocked*? Hah, I seem to remember similar reaction to my Viggorli...
And where is wart!icon???!!!!