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Woe Is Me, Because I'm In Featherite Jail

Summary:

Olive and Otto are in Featherite Jail, and stuff happens I guess
Day 26: Dramatics

Notes:

Quick heads up, this fic cuts off randomly because it is currently way too late for me to be up, and I have school in the morning. I'm really sorry, I should've focused harder. I'll fix it in post, I swear.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 “I’m not gonna make it partner.”.

Olive rolls her eyes. “Come on, Otto, don’t be dramatic.”.

 “Who says I’m being dramatic?”.

Otto is sprawled over a cot in a similar fashion to a tuberculosis afflicted victorian woman. His arm is thrown over his forehead, and he’s staring up at the ceiling. Olive is standing with her arms crossed, not having it with Otto acting like he’s been sentenced to public execution.

 “The Featherites did this a few years ago, and the agents are still alive.” Olive reasons.

 “We’re in jail, Olive, all because I dropped a fork on the table.” Otto cries. “They’re probably gonna eat us.”.

 “Don’t they only eat worms?”.

 “You never know, okay? Those five mouths have to be there for a reason.”.

Olive starts pacing. “I mean, I guess the more pressing issue is the fact that they’re going to cause an earthquake because of the fork.”.

 “Ugh, and it’s all my fault!” Otto moans, once again crumbling onto the cot.

 “First, no it’s not, dropping the fork was an accident,” Olive assures “Second, even if it was your fault, beating yourself up isn’t gonna stop the earthquake, so you’re gonna have to do that later.”.

Otto turns onto his side. “I mean, I feel we don’t have the ability to get out of here fast enough to prevent another Featherite-induced extinction event. It’s a real shame we don’t have Qi Lins anymore. The only thing I can do right now is entertain myself by complaining.”.

 “Don’t think like that, I know a way, trust me.” Olive says.

She walks to the door of their cell and knocks on the bars. The guard, a Featherite that looks very tired and is holding a big pointy stick, comes over, blinking at Olive like he’s barely seeing her.

 “Excuse me, will you be so kind as to get us some water with salt in it?”.

The guard blinks again, before heading off, presumably to get what Olive has asked for.

 “So, what’s your plan?” Otto inquires.

 “Well you see, one day I wanted to relax, so I read a book on Featherite law.”.

 “Featherite law?”.

 “Yeah, it was a little too exciting in places. Anyways, it turns out there’s a legal loophole created by the following clauses.

#13, if a meal is prepared improperly, any persons responsible are to be sentenced to thirty sextillion milliseconds in Featherite Jail.

#44, if a prisoner in Featherite Jail causes electricity to be created, they must be sent away from Featherite Jail and be housed in a cellar.

#7, all residents of cellars are entitled to a boon if they can create a pile of exactly 2,088 grains of rice, then divide it into exactly 36 equal piles.

We’ll ask for being set free as our boon.”.

 “Why do they have those laws? And what’s so special about dividing rice into piles?”.

 “They cause extinction-level events if there are too many chairs at a place setting, they aren’t exactly the most reasonable.”.

The guard comes back, holding a cup of something that is visibly not water. Olive takes it regardless, very confused. She sniffs it, and her face falls.

 “Is that tomato juice?” Otto squeaks.

 ”Well, this ruins everything.” Olive flatly states.

Otto gets off the cot and tips his head against the wall. “How are we gonna get out of here now?”.

 “I don’t know.” Olive confesses. She takes Otto’s place on the singular cot, lying flat on her back and staring up at the ceiling.

 “Who’s being dramatic now?”.

 “This is a warranted reaction.”.

 “I guess you’re right.” Otto concedes. He thinks momentarily. “I think I have an idea.”.

 

 “Oh man!” Olive says quite loudly. “I can’t believe I’m gonna miss my own birthday!”.

 “And I won’t be able to convince my parents to not disown my brother, because I won’t be able to get to the courthouse in time!” Otto shouts. “Woe is me! Rows and rows of woes!”.

Olive shoots Otto a glance.

 “What? It makes me sound more like a grownup.”.

They resume dramatic shouting, until another guard, this one looking like he has enjoyed the wonders of sleep, checks on them.

 “Oh, sir, can you please fulfill us a simple request?” Olive pleads.

 “Didn’t you 

Notes:

I am somewhat suicidal/hj

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