Ahcty (Mythklok Interspatial)
Nov. 30th, 2011 07:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Ahcty (Mythklok Interspatial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles, Pickles and Ganesh have a discussion regarding plush toys.
Warnings: Cefulopawds
Notes: This is one in the style I used to do a lot, written very quickly with whatever was in my head. So, it's all probably pointless.
The more things change, thought Charles, opening the door of his suite. Pickles and Ganesh looked up from the couch at him. He wondered for a moment if the past year hadn't happened at all.
It didn't look it, but things had changed. Ganesh, who, as it turned out, was a great rule-maker, had banned any drugs harsher than pot – and just pot, no special blends – if Elias was around. And Elias was inevitably around nowadays. And he had then gone further to ban any kind of smoking inside, which, what with winter approaching, made the whole “hang out with Charles and Ganesh getting massively stoned” thing a quite unattractive prospect.
But, nevertheless, there they were, Ganesh splayed out all over the couch like some large sized praying mantis, and Pickles there, leaning back against one of the long legs, the both of them obviously deep into some kind of intense but utterly meaningless conversation.
Charles unknotted his tie and flung it somewhere – he didn't really care, it had been that kind of day – and collapsed down on the couch opposite. He reached forward and twisted the sharp metal top off one of the unopened beer bottles, and took a healthy swig, the liquid dark and sweet in his mouth.
“Sooo,” said Pickles. “Wut wud yoo doo, Charles?”
“What would I do?” asked Charles, sitting back again.
Pickles and Ganesh exchanged a smile. “Wud yoo.... Eat dawg food fer a year? Or get one o' yer knees shaht?” he finished, miming a pistol shot to the kneecap.
“What? Neither!”
“Yoo gahta chooze! Dat's da game!” scolded Pickles.
“They make vegan dog food these days,” said Ganesh. “It probably isn't so bad.”
“I'd get da shaht!” said Pickles.
“What, really? No! You should be crippled!”
“Where do a gahta walk to?” the drummer explained.
“Don't you need both legs to drum?” asked Charles.
“Wul, I dunno,” said Pickles, considering the matter. “I s'pose I cud git a special kid, like dat dood in Def Leppard!”
“Def Leppard?” said Charles, now both irritated at the mention of that sucky band and the fact that he was being irresistibly drawn into this ridiculous debate. “Good Christ.” He looked around. “Is Boon down for the night?”
“Yeh, he kinda collapsed,” said Pickles, snapping his fingers.
“He was receiving some music lessons,” said Ganesh.
“You were drumming?” Charles asked, rubbing a thumb on the rim of his beer bottle, watching a sweat drop run down the neck.
“Da liddle spud is really gud!” said Pickles. “Like, he's gaht a feel fer it, yoo know?”
“Yeah, I'm not surprised,” said Charles, shaking his head. “He does stuff.”
“Yoo gaht a liddle rahk star!”
“Oh, fuck no, he's not gonna be a musician. Not if I can help it.” Charles stood, perhaps suddenly worried that his sole progeny was growing a goatee, or some such. “Is he in his room?”
Ganesh nodded, and Charles headed for Elias' room. He instantly felt more relaxed, hearing the small snore as soon as he opened the door. He walked over towards the bed, where a tangle of dark hair could just be glimpsed under a pile of plush objects: Wunge the Angel, Lelefun the Elephant, and....
He leaned over, frowning.
And octopus? A plush red octopus. What the fuck-?
“What's that octopus doing on the bed?” demanded Charles as he returned to the living room.
“Dat's Ahcty!” Pickles cheerfully supplied.
“You put him down tonight?” asked Charles, pointing an accusing finger at Pickles.
“Wul. Yeah?”
“Boon always sleeps with TWO plush toys, Wunge and Lelefun.”
“You mean Lelefun and Wunge,” grinned Ganesh.
“But only those two!” insisted Charles.
“That's not always true, dear! You know he was until very recently taking an armload of those toys to bed each night.”
“But it's always been two!”
“I thawt it wuz cute,” said Pickles apologetically. “An', hey, he's gawt da udder band members....”
“What? Whaddya mean?” asked Charles.
“Yes, what do you mean?” asked Ganesh.
“Wul. He's gaht dat allugadur. Dat's Nat'an's anamul sometimes when he in da Dreamin'.”
“Wait. Really?” said Ganesh. “Did you know that, Charles.”
Charles had sat down again. “No. How the fuck did Boon know that?”
“Well, he obviously senses some of these things,” said Ganesh. “I don't know yet if he sees magic, like I do, or hears like you angels. He may have some new senses.”
“Yeh. Dat Bert angel dood – he seems t' smell stuff!”
“Powers are fucking weird,” grumbled Charles, to gales of laughter from Ganesh and Pickles. “What?” asked Charles.
“Aynjuls are weird!” laughed Pickles.
“Well. So are elephants and octopi!”
“Ahctopuses.”
“Elephants and octopuses.”
“Yeh. We ahre dood.”
“We make a perfect family,” laughed Ganesh.
“Sooooo,” said Pickles, sucking at his beer. “Wud yoo be an elephant, an ahctopus, or an allagadur?”
“An elephant! Of course!” sniffed Ganesh.
“What?” said Charles. “You two are crazy.”
“Why, dood?”
“Because,” explained Charles, “the answer is obviously, an alligator.”
“What?” said Ganesh.
“They can bite stuff!” said Charles triumphantly.
“Not if an elephant trods upon it first!” warned Ganesh.
“Naw, da ahctopus will blind yoo wit' its ink,” vowed Pickles.
“Octopuses don't have ink!” argued Charles.
“Shure dey do!”
“How would the octopus get up on the elephant to blind it?” asked Ganesh.
“Climb on da allugadur dat's biting it!”
Charles and Ganesh looked at one another. Well, when he was right, he was right.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Charles, Pickles and Ganesh have a discussion regarding plush toys.
Warnings: Cefulopawds
Notes: This is one in the style I used to do a lot, written very quickly with whatever was in my head. So, it's all probably pointless.
The more things change, thought Charles, opening the door of his suite. Pickles and Ganesh looked up from the couch at him. He wondered for a moment if the past year hadn't happened at all.
It didn't look it, but things had changed. Ganesh, who, as it turned out, was a great rule-maker, had banned any drugs harsher than pot – and just pot, no special blends – if Elias was around. And Elias was inevitably around nowadays. And he had then gone further to ban any kind of smoking inside, which, what with winter approaching, made the whole “hang out with Charles and Ganesh getting massively stoned” thing a quite unattractive prospect.
But, nevertheless, there they were, Ganesh splayed out all over the couch like some large sized praying mantis, and Pickles there, leaning back against one of the long legs, the both of them obviously deep into some kind of intense but utterly meaningless conversation.
Charles unknotted his tie and flung it somewhere – he didn't really care, it had been that kind of day – and collapsed down on the couch opposite. He reached forward and twisted the sharp metal top off one of the unopened beer bottles, and took a healthy swig, the liquid dark and sweet in his mouth.
“Sooo,” said Pickles. “Wut wud yoo doo, Charles?”
“What would I do?” asked Charles, sitting back again.
Pickles and Ganesh exchanged a smile. “Wud yoo.... Eat dawg food fer a year? Or get one o' yer knees shaht?” he finished, miming a pistol shot to the kneecap.
“What? Neither!”
“Yoo gahta chooze! Dat's da game!” scolded Pickles.
“They make vegan dog food these days,” said Ganesh. “It probably isn't so bad.”
“I'd get da shaht!” said Pickles.
“What, really? No! You should be crippled!”
“Where do a gahta walk to?” the drummer explained.
“Don't you need both legs to drum?” asked Charles.
“Wul, I dunno,” said Pickles, considering the matter. “I s'pose I cud git a special kid, like dat dood in Def Leppard!”
“Def Leppard?” said Charles, now both irritated at the mention of that sucky band and the fact that he was being irresistibly drawn into this ridiculous debate. “Good Christ.” He looked around. “Is Boon down for the night?”
“Yeh, he kinda collapsed,” said Pickles, snapping his fingers.
“He was receiving some music lessons,” said Ganesh.
“You were drumming?” Charles asked, rubbing a thumb on the rim of his beer bottle, watching a sweat drop run down the neck.
“Da liddle spud is really gud!” said Pickles. “Like, he's gaht a feel fer it, yoo know?”
“Yeah, I'm not surprised,” said Charles, shaking his head. “He does stuff.”
“Yoo gaht a liddle rahk star!”
“Oh, fuck no, he's not gonna be a musician. Not if I can help it.” Charles stood, perhaps suddenly worried that his sole progeny was growing a goatee, or some such. “Is he in his room?”
Ganesh nodded, and Charles headed for Elias' room. He instantly felt more relaxed, hearing the small snore as soon as he opened the door. He walked over towards the bed, where a tangle of dark hair could just be glimpsed under a pile of plush objects: Wunge the Angel, Lelefun the Elephant, and....
He leaned over, frowning.
And octopus? A plush red octopus. What the fuck-?
“What's that octopus doing on the bed?” demanded Charles as he returned to the living room.
“Dat's Ahcty!” Pickles cheerfully supplied.
“You put him down tonight?” asked Charles, pointing an accusing finger at Pickles.
“Wul. Yeah?”
“Boon always sleeps with TWO plush toys, Wunge and Lelefun.”
“You mean Lelefun and Wunge,” grinned Ganesh.
“But only those two!” insisted Charles.
“That's not always true, dear! You know he was until very recently taking an armload of those toys to bed each night.”
“But it's always been two!”
“I thawt it wuz cute,” said Pickles apologetically. “An', hey, he's gawt da udder band members....”
“What? Whaddya mean?” asked Charles.
“Yes, what do you mean?” asked Ganesh.
“Wul. He's gaht dat allugadur. Dat's Nat'an's anamul sometimes when he in da Dreamin'.”
“Wait. Really?” said Ganesh. “Did you know that, Charles.”
Charles had sat down again. “No. How the fuck did Boon know that?”
“Well, he obviously senses some of these things,” said Ganesh. “I don't know yet if he sees magic, like I do, or hears like you angels. He may have some new senses.”
“Yeh. Dat Bert angel dood – he seems t' smell stuff!”
“Powers are fucking weird,” grumbled Charles, to gales of laughter from Ganesh and Pickles. “What?” asked Charles.
“Aynjuls are weird!” laughed Pickles.
“Well. So are elephants and octopi!”
“Ahctopuses.”
“Elephants and octopuses.”
“Yeh. We ahre dood.”
“We make a perfect family,” laughed Ganesh.
“Sooooo,” said Pickles, sucking at his beer. “Wud yoo be an elephant, an ahctopus, or an allagadur?”
“An elephant! Of course!” sniffed Ganesh.
“What?” said Charles. “You two are crazy.”
“Why, dood?”
“Because,” explained Charles, “the answer is obviously, an alligator.”
“What?” said Ganesh.
“They can bite stuff!” said Charles triumphantly.
“Not if an elephant trods upon it first!” warned Ganesh.
“Naw, da ahctopus will blind yoo wit' its ink,” vowed Pickles.
“Octopuses don't have ink!” argued Charles.
“Shure dey do!”
“How would the octopus get up on the elephant to blind it?” asked Ganesh.
“Climb on da allugadur dat's biting it!”
Charles and Ganesh looked at one another. Well, when he was right, he was right.
