Taste Test (Mythklok Interstitial)
Sep. 15th, 2011 03:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Taste Test (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Life lessons
Warnings: Pastry
Notes:
“Bie, Dada!”
“That's right, Boon. But what kind of pie?”
The child chewed, his expression tightening into a mask of intense concentration. His little face, which under normal circumstances reminded Charles of nothing more than a very small version of Ganesh, suddenly pulled into another very familiar countenance. My kid looks like me when he's angry. Or eating pie, thought Charles.
“Stawbeddy bie!” Elias announced, rapping his fork definitively on the side of the plate.
“Very good,” approved his father.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING?”
“Nathan,” said Charles, rising to grab another pie plate from the kitchen counter.
“Are you guys up late EATING ALL THE PIE AGAIN? Because, that kind of sucks to get up in the morning and find nothing but EMPTY PIE PLATES! It's liable to cause angst, or whatever that thing is that Skwisgaar claims he gets.”
“Nathan,” said Charles, giving his wings and irritated little flap to emphasize the point, “You are being culturally insensitive!” He set down the pie plate, and began to cut a small slice for his child.
“WHAT?” boomed Nathan? “Seriously, I'm not gonna have to watch another fucking Facebones video, am I?”
“It is very important for angels to excel at pie identification!” Charles explained, setting down a small, pie-laden plate before the wiggling child. Using both hands, Elias stabbed the pie to death with his small fork, and then, leaving the fork impaled in the flaky crust, grabbed up a morsel with his sticky hands.
“Why does this seem like an excuse to eat all our pie?” growled Nathan, sliding away the pie plate and helping himself to a slice before Charles could devour it.
“Nana cweem, Dada!” said Elias.
Charles pointed proudly at the boy. “That was AN EASY ONE!” Nathan declared. Forking a rather generous bite of banana crème into his craw, Nathan lumbered over to the pastry case where, looking suspiciously over his shoulder as Elias watched, wide-eyed, he blocked the view of the case with his body, and then quickly grabbed something and brought it to the table. “All right, kiddo, TRY THIS,” he said, dropping a chunk onto Elias' plate.
The boy impaled the pastry on his fork, and then picked up a bit and chewed thoughtfully.
“Damn,” whispered Nathan. “He looks like you when he eats pie.”
“Yeah,” said Charles.
“It's a little creepy.”
“It is.”
“Nate-Nate,” opined Elias. “An wukkabeddy bie!”
“Uh-huh,” nodded Nathan. “Huckleberry....”
“An boobeddie!” Elias concluded triumphantly, his little grin showing purple- and blue-stained baby teeth.
“Huckleberry with blueberries added,” agreed a somewhat surprised Nathan.
“An wukkabeddy an sour!” Elias explained.
Charles said nothing, but his proud wing flap sent napkins scudding over the table.
“That's a little OBNOXIOUS,” Nathan told him.
“Hmpf.”
“Pfffft.”
“Hey guys,” said Nathan.
“I ams tells you dey ams finishings all da pie,” Skwisgaar tattled, playing a particularly pesky riff.
“Sariel,” said Ganesh, pulling his robe closer around him and sitting down beside the angel, “Can you perhaps explain why our only son is up at this ungodsly hour eating pie?”
“IT'S A CULTURAL EXPERIENCE!” Nathan explained, chewing his huckleberry-with-added-blueberries. “You should be TOLERANT.”
“Ams we watches da Facebones videos?” asked Toki, who had just arrived, yawning, and clutching his Deddy bear. Elias started excitedly pointing at Deddy, so Charles picked up Elias' faithful Lelefun and Wunge plush toys and sat them near Toki's place, so they could all “talk.” For whatever reason, the child had recently decided that these toys were all best pals.
“Anyway,” said Charles. “Yeah, angels are ALWAYS up at this hour.”
“Might I point out the boy is approximately three quarters earth god,” said Ganesh, extending one of many hands in Elias' direction. “Few of us are up at this hour, excepting perhaps the dodgy ones.”
“Aw, c'mon, Ganesh! You used to be up late all the time at your discos!”
“That was before I was married and had a child! I have responsibilities now!” lectured Ganesh, waving a veritable blizzard of fingers.
“You fell asleep in front of the TV watching Project Runway.”
“Er,” said Ganesh, who may just have colored.
“Dey ams not nice to Berts!” protested Toki, pounding an incensed fist on the table.
“Well, his tastes are a bit outdated, but he has a steady sense of what is chic,” Ganesh swiftly agreed.
“Ams not da most facile groups wit' da sewings dis year.”
“Yes, you definitely need to master basic tailoring skills!”
“Ams measured against da grains!”
“I nearly had a heart attack!” attested Ganesh, gripping his chest.
Charles stared.
“Yoo doods talkin' about Prawject Runway?” muttered Pickles, who was yawning and scratching his ass.
“Not you too?” asked Charles.
“Heh. O' course me too. Why not?”
“MAKE IT WORK!” thundered Nathan.
“You ams AUF!” laughed Skwisgaar.
Silver eyes slid suspiciously around the table. “You guys are pulling my wings.”
“No, dude,” said Nathan, leaning over to whisper. “Models, dude.”
“Models ams changings da clothes!” marveled Skwisgaar.
“Every week, dood! A whole room full o' models,” sighed Pickles.
“And HEIDI!” added Nathan.
“Dose legses!” chorded Skwisgaar.
“Haighdee,” mused Pickles.
“Who has legs like that?” insisted Nathan. “THEY GO UP FOREVER! YOU COULD DIE!”
Unnoticed by the rhapsodizing death metal musicians, Ganesh caught Charles' eye, and, with a small flourish, sat back and lazily crossed his own legs.
Charles gulped.
And then was out of his chair, grabbing a yawning Elias up out of his booster seat.
“OK, it's been great talking to you but we REALLY need to get to bed because this one has been up way too late and we really need to get him to bed lots of stuff and things to do tomorrow I can't even begin and aren't you coming, Ganesh?” he added, yanking the grinning god up by the collar of his robe and then leading him off by the belt of his robe. “And see you all tomorrow morning boy I've never been so tired....” He breezed by Toki and, deftly leaning Elias over to scoop up Lelefun and Wunge, departed the room with his family.
“Uhhhhh,” said Nathan, to three empty seats. “YOU GONNA FINISH YOUR PIE? Huh, guess not. Dibs on the Banana crème.”
“Wut's dis one?”
“Cocklesberries I t'ink.”
“Uh. Mebbe better leave dat wun fer Murderface....”
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Life lessons
Warnings: Pastry
Notes:
“Bie, Dada!”
“That's right, Boon. But what kind of pie?”
The child chewed, his expression tightening into a mask of intense concentration. His little face, which under normal circumstances reminded Charles of nothing more than a very small version of Ganesh, suddenly pulled into another very familiar countenance. My kid looks like me when he's angry. Or eating pie, thought Charles.
“Stawbeddy bie!” Elias announced, rapping his fork definitively on the side of the plate.
“Very good,” approved his father.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GUYS DOING?”
“Nathan,” said Charles, rising to grab another pie plate from the kitchen counter.
“Are you guys up late EATING ALL THE PIE AGAIN? Because, that kind of sucks to get up in the morning and find nothing but EMPTY PIE PLATES! It's liable to cause angst, or whatever that thing is that Skwisgaar claims he gets.”
“Nathan,” said Charles, giving his wings and irritated little flap to emphasize the point, “You are being culturally insensitive!” He set down the pie plate, and began to cut a small slice for his child.
“WHAT?” boomed Nathan? “Seriously, I'm not gonna have to watch another fucking Facebones video, am I?”
“It is very important for angels to excel at pie identification!” Charles explained, setting down a small, pie-laden plate before the wiggling child. Using both hands, Elias stabbed the pie to death with his small fork, and then, leaving the fork impaled in the flaky crust, grabbed up a morsel with his sticky hands.
“Why does this seem like an excuse to eat all our pie?” growled Nathan, sliding away the pie plate and helping himself to a slice before Charles could devour it.
“Nana cweem, Dada!” said Elias.
Charles pointed proudly at the boy. “That was AN EASY ONE!” Nathan declared. Forking a rather generous bite of banana crème into his craw, Nathan lumbered over to the pastry case where, looking suspiciously over his shoulder as Elias watched, wide-eyed, he blocked the view of the case with his body, and then quickly grabbed something and brought it to the table. “All right, kiddo, TRY THIS,” he said, dropping a chunk onto Elias' plate.
The boy impaled the pastry on his fork, and then picked up a bit and chewed thoughtfully.
“Damn,” whispered Nathan. “He looks like you when he eats pie.”
“Yeah,” said Charles.
“It's a little creepy.”
“It is.”
“Nate-Nate,” opined Elias. “An wukkabeddy bie!”
“Uh-huh,” nodded Nathan. “Huckleberry....”
“An boobeddie!” Elias concluded triumphantly, his little grin showing purple- and blue-stained baby teeth.
“Huckleberry with blueberries added,” agreed a somewhat surprised Nathan.
“An wukkabeddy an sour!” Elias explained.
Charles said nothing, but his proud wing flap sent napkins scudding over the table.
“That's a little OBNOXIOUS,” Nathan told him.
“Hmpf.”
“Pfffft.”
“Hey guys,” said Nathan.
“I ams tells you dey ams finishings all da pie,” Skwisgaar tattled, playing a particularly pesky riff.
“Sariel,” said Ganesh, pulling his robe closer around him and sitting down beside the angel, “Can you perhaps explain why our only son is up at this ungodsly hour eating pie?”
“IT'S A CULTURAL EXPERIENCE!” Nathan explained, chewing his huckleberry-with-added-blueberries. “You should be TOLERANT.”
“Ams we watches da Facebones videos?” asked Toki, who had just arrived, yawning, and clutching his Deddy bear. Elias started excitedly pointing at Deddy, so Charles picked up Elias' faithful Lelefun and Wunge plush toys and sat them near Toki's place, so they could all “talk.” For whatever reason, the child had recently decided that these toys were all best pals.
“Anyway,” said Charles. “Yeah, angels are ALWAYS up at this hour.”
“Might I point out the boy is approximately three quarters earth god,” said Ganesh, extending one of many hands in Elias' direction. “Few of us are up at this hour, excepting perhaps the dodgy ones.”
“Aw, c'mon, Ganesh! You used to be up late all the time at your discos!”
“That was before I was married and had a child! I have responsibilities now!” lectured Ganesh, waving a veritable blizzard of fingers.
“You fell asleep in front of the TV watching Project Runway.”
“Er,” said Ganesh, who may just have colored.
“Dey ams not nice to Berts!” protested Toki, pounding an incensed fist on the table.
“Well, his tastes are a bit outdated, but he has a steady sense of what is chic,” Ganesh swiftly agreed.
“Ams not da most facile groups wit' da sewings dis year.”
“Yes, you definitely need to master basic tailoring skills!”
“Ams measured against da grains!”
“I nearly had a heart attack!” attested Ganesh, gripping his chest.
Charles stared.
“Yoo doods talkin' about Prawject Runway?” muttered Pickles, who was yawning and scratching his ass.
“Not you too?” asked Charles.
“Heh. O' course me too. Why not?”
“MAKE IT WORK!” thundered Nathan.
“You ams AUF!” laughed Skwisgaar.
Silver eyes slid suspiciously around the table. “You guys are pulling my wings.”
“No, dude,” said Nathan, leaning over to whisper. “Models, dude.”
“Models ams changings da clothes!” marveled Skwisgaar.
“Every week, dood! A whole room full o' models,” sighed Pickles.
“And HEIDI!” added Nathan.
“Dose legses!” chorded Skwisgaar.
“Haighdee,” mused Pickles.
“Who has legs like that?” insisted Nathan. “THEY GO UP FOREVER! YOU COULD DIE!”
Unnoticed by the rhapsodizing death metal musicians, Ganesh caught Charles' eye, and, with a small flourish, sat back and lazily crossed his own legs.
Charles gulped.
And then was out of his chair, grabbing a yawning Elias up out of his booster seat.
“OK, it's been great talking to you but we REALLY need to get to bed because this one has been up way too late and we really need to get him to bed lots of stuff and things to do tomorrow I can't even begin and aren't you coming, Ganesh?” he added, yanking the grinning god up by the collar of his robe and then leading him off by the belt of his robe. “And see you all tomorrow morning boy I've never been so tired....” He breezed by Toki and, deftly leaning Elias over to scoop up Lelefun and Wunge, departed the room with his family.
“Uhhhhh,” said Nathan, to three empty seats. “YOU GONNA FINISH YOUR PIE? Huh, guess not. Dibs on the Banana crème.”
“Wut's dis one?”
“Cocklesberries I t'ink.”
“Uh. Mebbe better leave dat wun fer Murderface....”
