#personification

Day 22 ~ Rowlett (Moemon)

Based on artwork by @Nishina_hima

Introducing my smol chaos oc, Etti. They will ruin your day

“You’re a ghost,” Andrea said, fearfully.

“No. I am an undigested bit of beef,” she said majestically. “A fragment of underdone potato. Or, in this case, an excess of Sicilian food. There’s more gravy than of grave in me.”

Between his panic and the pain in his stomach, Andrea recognized that line.

“That’s from Dickens,” he said. “What are you, the Ghost of Christmas Past?”

“More like the Ghost of Tonight’s Repast,” she said. “Do you believe in Greek and Roman myths? You should, because you’re in one right now.”

He studied her closely for the first time. She was lovely, but her expression was severe. Her nose was sharp. Her eyes looked dark and tired. Her lips were drawn and tight. There was something of the disciplinarian to her.

“You look as bad as I feel,” he said, his stomach clenching up again.

“Well, yeah. I am a stomachache. Your stomachache.”

“You’re not going to hurt me?” Andrea asked.

“Oh, yes, I’m going to hurt. It’s kind of my job. But a little tummyache never killed anybody. We’ll have a fun night in.”

“No,” he said. “You’re staying here, or whatever, I’m going out to explore Sicily.”

“Ooh, not quite, buddy. Change of plans. Tonight you’re taking a tour of indigestion and tummy upset!” She grinned and patted him on the shoulder with a kind of mirth. “I don’t like moving around much.”

Andrea rooted through his suitcase and pulled out a small bottle. “Look, I’m not naive. Traveling around the Mediterranean, dining each evening, I came prepared for a little gas.” He shook out a few digestive tablets, and washed them down with a glass of ice water.

“That’s not going to do much,” said the demigoddess. “Your digestive muscles are stretched around a solid wall of seafood pasta, and it’s not going anywhere fast.”

“Yes, I know,” said Andrea, irritably. He hiccuped, and patted the area under his ribs. “But it’ll let me walk around.”

“C'mon, I got a better idea: Let’s stay here. You can stretch out on the couch, watch some television, maybe do some moaning, groaning, and regretting your life. It’ll be awesome.”

“Look, I admit, I don’t feel great. But we’re only on Sicily for one night and I’m not going to miss it because of a tummyache.” Andrea took out a loose shirt from his suitcase and slipped it on. He burped, and sighed.

This gave her an idea.

“Actually… since we’re together for awhile anyway… Why don’t I give you a tour, and introduce you to some of my friends?”

Next Part: https://stuffed-to-the-max.tumblr.com/post/170428411252/dantes-indigestion-part-3-nausea-heartburn

Part 1: https://stuffed-to-the-max.tumblr.com/post/170314724957/dantes-indigestion-part-1-a-stomachache

Andrea pushed himself back from the table, with a huff.

Like everyone else in the dining hall, he was taking a two-week tour of the Mediterannean. They had stopped on the island of Sicily for a banquet near the Agrigento, surrounded by swaying palms and the columns of ancient Hellenic ruins.

The food had been amazing, and in relentless quantities. It felt like he had food up to his chest. It was like standing in line, slowy moving downward, cramming it’s way down into his strained stomach. The strong, yet pleasant flavor of oil and garlic was still strong.

The chef and her staff came out into the dining hall, to thunderous applause. He did too. This was a virtuoso, after all.

He had planned to go exploring the island, and it’s ruins after dinner. The area below his ribs was currently stretched around a giant cannonball-sized pile of Sicilian cuisine. It was digesting sluggishly, but the digestive muscles were needing a break, in spite of the intensifying pressure. If he was going to be in condition to go exploring, he needed to act while he could.

He slowly rose from his chair, stiffly; bending around the middle caused painful twinges from his digestive muscles. He became aware of a woman seated next to him, staring his way.

“I think I had a little too much manicotti,” he said self-deprecatingly.

“And all that greasy lamb,” she replied. Odd, he had been thinking the exact same thing.

He made his way out of the crowded dining hall, smiling festively, but breathing slowly. He was heading towards his room. He was considering calling it all off.

He walked over the marble floor, as a cool Mediterannean wind blew in. Nope. He couldn’t miss this.

“You shouldn’t have eaten those cheese pitas,” came the voice again. He looked. There was a stone bench half a meter away, between two pillars. She was stretched out on it, leaning against the pillar. Was this the same woman from the dining room?

She resembled the statues he’d seen in the area - a Greek chiton, sandals, and a laurel wreath on top of her short, choppy, black hair. She was young and attractive, but she looked weary and irritable. Her tone was accusatory.

“Worth it, though,” he said, defensively. Awfully judgemental, for a stranger, he thought. Was that a costume?

As he walked down a corridor, he tried to ignore the dull, steady pain in his upper belly. Once in his room, he unbuttoned his vest and took off his formal dining shirt. His tanned belly was now rounded and shiny. As the food churned, there came a sharp cramp over his navel. He sighed.

“That’d be the cheese and cannoli,” came a familiar voice. Startled, he whipped around. There was the woman, dressed in the chiton, curled up in an armchair near the door. He backed away. She hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Who are you, and why are you following me?”

“I am Gastralgia, the goddess of Abdominal Pain and Discomfort. We meet again.”

Part 2: https://stuffed-to-the-max.tumblr.com/post/170314791337/dantes-indigestion-part-2a-stomachache-story