Heckut (Mythklok Interstitial)
Apr. 2nd, 2012 05:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tikificTitle: Heckut (Mythklok Interstitial)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Grooming pains.
Warnings: Children all over the goddam place
Notes: I don’t have any kids, but I noticed this seems to be a common source of trauma to parents of young children.
“Heckut, daddy!”
Charles looked up from the quarterly reports on his desk to where his excited son now stood before him. “Uh, you have hiccups?”
“HECKUT!” the boy repeated.
“You wanna hatchet?” tried Charles, chewing on the end of his Montblanc pen.
“Noooo! Heckut!”
Charles frowned and wished for not the first time that toddlers came equipped with an English subtitles feature. But he soon had his answer as Elias’ cousin Liam came storming into the office.
“Heckut!” insisted Elias.
Charles stared at Liam, who was indeed a sight to behold: his reddish curls were all gone, and instead he now sported a hairstyle that more resembled a field of new mown wheat than his normal Harpo-esque mop.
“Oh. Haircut?” asked Charles.
“Aye, my boy’s just had his first haircut!” announced Wotan from the doorway. The god strode in carrying Liam’s twin, Abby.
“Rite of passage, huh?” asked Charles somewhat dubiously.
“Wanted to look like the old man,” laughed Wotan, large hand ruffling the boy’s hair. “And of course, if one does it, the other has to as well,” he said, putting down Abby. Elias literally gasped at the sight of his cousin: instead of her normal cloud of black hair, she now had a jet black page boy bob.
“Heckut Daddy!” announced Elias, pointing madly at Abby. The boy then pulled on a strand of his own dark hair, frowning at it.
“Uh-oh,” said Charles.
“We have a situation,” Charles announced as he entered the suite he shared with Ganesh.
“What can possibly be the matter?” laughed Ganesh, who was soon answered by Elias plowing into the room and launching himself into Ganesh’s lap on the couch.
“Heckut, Baap!” said Elias, pulling at his hair.
“He wishes to commune with a tri-faced Greek Goddess?” asked Ganesh.
“Uh,” said Charles. “Seems Raziel got the kids’ hair cut, and Boon saw them….”
“An Yab an Yeem gad da heckut, Baap. An need da heckut. And da hair an long!” explained Elias plaintively, pulling out a long strand in demonstration.
“You wish your hair cut?” gasped Ganesh. “Not- Not your lovely hair,” he said, suddenly hugging the child to his chest. “This cannot be!”
“Heckut, Baap!” Elias insisted into Ganesh’s chest.
“But you do not need a haircut! Do you not wish to resemble your Uncle Nathan?”
“I already tried that,” whispered Charles.
“Nooooo! Heckut!” said Elias stubbornly as he wriggled free of several of his father’s arms.
Ganesh looked as if he would weep. “But-“ he cried.
“HECKUT!” demanded Elias.
Ganesh heaved a sigh. “He is stubborn. He gets that from you!” he told Charles.
“Raziel-“ began Charles.
“The cause of all this madness!” grumbled Ganesh, his eyes flashing darkly. “Our ruination!”
“Raziel had one of the Renaissance angel guys do it, and she said he would probably do Boon.”
“You are insistent, Boonie Beta?” asked Ganesh.
“Boonie id da bid boy, an wan da heckut!” said Elias.
“Perhaps…. Tell them, he just needs a trim? One millimeter? Or two?” Ganesh pleaded, putting a hand or two through his boy’s tangled hair and chewing nervously at a nail of another hand.
“Yeah, we’ll tell ‘em just a trim,” soothed Charles. “There there. It will be OK,” he said, sitting down next to Ganesh, and awkwardly patting one knee.
“No it will not,” sighed Ganesh.
“Uhhhhhhhh,” said Nathan.
“What’s up, Nathan?” asked Charles, who was not at all surprised to see the lead singer of Dethklok show up uninvited in his living room, but was surprised that the man actually looked apologetic.
“Uh, you should come and see,” said Nathan. “And, uh, you too, Ganesh dude.” Charles and Ganesh exchanged a puzzled look, and then followed Nathan out of their suite.
As Nathan lead them down the vast corridor, he began to relate, “So, uh, you know how Toki is always doing that gay craft shit and he was doing some kind of shit with the yarn and I don’t know what the fuck it was but anyway he was wondering where his scissors had gone and I was all, ‘Toki, keep track of your fucking shit,’ because he always leaves his shit all over, and last week Murderface sat in his model airplane glue, which was actually pretty fucking funny….”
“Uh, Nathan? The scissors?” asked Charles, who felt the singer’s story was getting ever so slightly off track.
“Oh, anyway, so he finds them, and BOON has got them, and it turns out, he wanted a haircut-“
“Oh, NO!” gasped Ganesh.
“And, uh, well, I did pretty much the same to myself when I was that age,” laughed Nathan. “I think everybody does. Kids are douches. But it’s OK, because Toki said what we'll do, we’ll just match the one side to the other side, only Toki is sort of Norwegian or whatever so he cut a little too much, you know? So we had to go back to the first side and match that, but then we were watching cartoons and it was funny and Boon moved his head, and that wasn’t quite right, so-“
They had just arrived in the living room.
Charles looked in puzzlement at the rug, which he hadn’t remembered was shag carpeting. And then, digging a toe in, he realized: pretty much the entire floor was covered in hair.
Tufts and turfts and tufts of tangled Elias hair.
“DADDY!” said Elias cheerfully, bouncing over to Charles.
Ganesh covered his mouth with several hands.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” said Charles.
“Heckut, Daddy!” beamed Elias.
“Yeah,” said Charles, kicking at a bit of hair on the floor and ruffling the bare patches of stubble that remained his son’s head. “That looks like pretty much all of it.”
“I ams tries to makes it evens,” Toki explained, puffing away a lock of dark hair that had settled in his Fu Manchu. He too was covered in patches of dark hair, and was still wielding a pair of scissors. “We could ams tries to takes more offs da tops!”
“Uh, no, I think you’ve done enough,” said Charles, who actually found himself smiling.
Ganesh, still unspeaking and apparently in deep shock, had gathered Elias into his many arms.
“Heckut, Baap!” said little Elias – little bald Elias – rather proudly. “Unky Tok gib da heckut.”
Ganesh chocked back tears.
“It will grow out,” said Charles.
Ganesh looked up from his martini. “I believe we should prevent that boy from ever again visiting his cousins,” he grumbled.
“Now, isn’t that a bit extreme?”
“Or at least until he achieves his 35th birthday!”
“It’s only hair. It’ll grow back,” said Charles. “Hey, maybe I should shave mine again so we’ll match,” he said, putting a hand through his own hair.
“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!” said Ganesh.
“I’m just joking,” said Charles, who actually wasn’t. “You shaved your chest hair,” he added, snatching the olive from Ganesh's martini.
“THAT was DIFFERENT,” insisted Ganesh.
“Look aren’t you always the one telling me he needs to grow up?” said Charles, waving a toothpick.
“This should not include unattractive hairstyles.”
“Could be worse. Could be a mullet!” Charles pointed out.
“Those were fashionable! At one point.”
“You’re kidding me, Ganesh? A mullet? What for 30 seconds some time in July of 1987?”
“Baap!” called Elias, who had just bounded into the room.
“Yes, dear?” asked Ganesh sadly as Elias wriggled up next to him.
“Eawwing!”
“He’s got an earwig?” asked Charles.
“Eawwing!” repeated their son, indicating his cousin Liam, who was right behind him.
Liam now sported a single golden stud in his left earlobe.
“Earring?” gasped Charles. “Oh-“
“An da piwwate!” said Elias.
“Elias!” warned Charles. “RAZIEL!” he shouted, as she had just entered the room along with Abby.
“Well, she was getting them, so Liam wanted one,” said Raziel.
“And you do anything your kids want?” demanded Charles.
“Oh what a lovely idea!” said Ganesh. “You wish an earring, like Baap?” said Ganesh, fingering his own ear.
“Uh-huh!” agreed Elias.
“WHAT?” said Charles.
“We could get him a little golden hoop,” said Ganesh.
“Uh-huh, da gowd hoop,” agreed Elias.
“NO EARRINGS! Not ‘til he’s at least 123 years old!” insisted Charles.
“Well, you guys are taking this well,” laughed Raziel.
“Raziel, could you just skip visiting us again until my son has reached middle age?” grumbled Charles.
“Oh, so you won’t wanna see this picture I found of Ganesh disco dancing … in 1989?” grinned Raziel, holding up her smart phone.
“Er,” said Ganesh.
“A mullet? You’re kidding!” said Charles, who had already grabbed the phone.
“It was thought to be stylish. After a fashion,” said Ganesh.
“I can’t believe this! And you know the annoying thing? He still looks really cute,” Charles told Raziel.
“Well, I gotta go,” said Raziel, grabbing back the phone. “Gonna get the kids tattooed now! Hey, kids!” she said as the twins ran after her.
“What! Wait! RAZIEL!” said Charles as she and her children disappeared.
“Er, do you suppose she was joking?” asked Ganesh.
“Dattoo, Daddy!” said Elias.
“Can I have one of those martinis?” sighed Charles, sinking down into the couch.
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Grooming pains.
Warnings: Children all over the goddam place
Notes: I don’t have any kids, but I noticed this seems to be a common source of trauma to parents of young children.
“Heckut, daddy!”
Charles looked up from the quarterly reports on his desk to where his excited son now stood before him. “Uh, you have hiccups?”
“HECKUT!” the boy repeated.
“You wanna hatchet?” tried Charles, chewing on the end of his Montblanc pen.
“Noooo! Heckut!”
Charles frowned and wished for not the first time that toddlers came equipped with an English subtitles feature. But he soon had his answer as Elias’ cousin Liam came storming into the office.
“Heckut!” insisted Elias.
Charles stared at Liam, who was indeed a sight to behold: his reddish curls were all gone, and instead he now sported a hairstyle that more resembled a field of new mown wheat than his normal Harpo-esque mop.
“Oh. Haircut?” asked Charles.
“Aye, my boy’s just had his first haircut!” announced Wotan from the doorway. The god strode in carrying Liam’s twin, Abby.
“Rite of passage, huh?” asked Charles somewhat dubiously.
“Wanted to look like the old man,” laughed Wotan, large hand ruffling the boy’s hair. “And of course, if one does it, the other has to as well,” he said, putting down Abby. Elias literally gasped at the sight of his cousin: instead of her normal cloud of black hair, she now had a jet black page boy bob.
“Heckut Daddy!” announced Elias, pointing madly at Abby. The boy then pulled on a strand of his own dark hair, frowning at it.
“Uh-oh,” said Charles.
“We have a situation,” Charles announced as he entered the suite he shared with Ganesh.
“What can possibly be the matter?” laughed Ganesh, who was soon answered by Elias plowing into the room and launching himself into Ganesh’s lap on the couch.
“Heckut, Baap!” said Elias, pulling at his hair.
“He wishes to commune with a tri-faced Greek Goddess?” asked Ganesh.
“Uh,” said Charles. “Seems Raziel got the kids’ hair cut, and Boon saw them….”
“An Yab an Yeem gad da heckut, Baap. An need da heckut. And da hair an long!” explained Elias plaintively, pulling out a long strand in demonstration.
“You wish your hair cut?” gasped Ganesh. “Not- Not your lovely hair,” he said, suddenly hugging the child to his chest. “This cannot be!”
“Heckut, Baap!” Elias insisted into Ganesh’s chest.
“But you do not need a haircut! Do you not wish to resemble your Uncle Nathan?”
“I already tried that,” whispered Charles.
“Nooooo! Heckut!” said Elias stubbornly as he wriggled free of several of his father’s arms.
Ganesh looked as if he would weep. “But-“ he cried.
“HECKUT!” demanded Elias.
Ganesh heaved a sigh. “He is stubborn. He gets that from you!” he told Charles.
“Raziel-“ began Charles.
“The cause of all this madness!” grumbled Ganesh, his eyes flashing darkly. “Our ruination!”
“Raziel had one of the Renaissance angel guys do it, and she said he would probably do Boon.”
“You are insistent, Boonie Beta?” asked Ganesh.
“Boonie id da bid boy, an wan da heckut!” said Elias.
“Perhaps…. Tell them, he just needs a trim? One millimeter? Or two?” Ganesh pleaded, putting a hand or two through his boy’s tangled hair and chewing nervously at a nail of another hand.
“Yeah, we’ll tell ‘em just a trim,” soothed Charles. “There there. It will be OK,” he said, sitting down next to Ganesh, and awkwardly patting one knee.
“No it will not,” sighed Ganesh.
“Uhhhhhhhh,” said Nathan.
“What’s up, Nathan?” asked Charles, who was not at all surprised to see the lead singer of Dethklok show up uninvited in his living room, but was surprised that the man actually looked apologetic.
“Uh, you should come and see,” said Nathan. “And, uh, you too, Ganesh dude.” Charles and Ganesh exchanged a puzzled look, and then followed Nathan out of their suite.
As Nathan lead them down the vast corridor, he began to relate, “So, uh, you know how Toki is always doing that gay craft shit and he was doing some kind of shit with the yarn and I don’t know what the fuck it was but anyway he was wondering where his scissors had gone and I was all, ‘Toki, keep track of your fucking shit,’ because he always leaves his shit all over, and last week Murderface sat in his model airplane glue, which was actually pretty fucking funny….”
“Uh, Nathan? The scissors?” asked Charles, who felt the singer’s story was getting ever so slightly off track.
“Oh, anyway, so he finds them, and BOON has got them, and it turns out, he wanted a haircut-“
“Oh, NO!” gasped Ganesh.
“And, uh, well, I did pretty much the same to myself when I was that age,” laughed Nathan. “I think everybody does. Kids are douches. But it’s OK, because Toki said what we'll do, we’ll just match the one side to the other side, only Toki is sort of Norwegian or whatever so he cut a little too much, you know? So we had to go back to the first side and match that, but then we were watching cartoons and it was funny and Boon moved his head, and that wasn’t quite right, so-“
They had just arrived in the living room.
Charles looked in puzzlement at the rug, which he hadn’t remembered was shag carpeting. And then, digging a toe in, he realized: pretty much the entire floor was covered in hair.
Tufts and turfts and tufts of tangled Elias hair.
“DADDY!” said Elias cheerfully, bouncing over to Charles.
Ganesh covered his mouth with several hands.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” said Charles.
“Heckut, Daddy!” beamed Elias.
“Yeah,” said Charles, kicking at a bit of hair on the floor and ruffling the bare patches of stubble that remained his son’s head. “That looks like pretty much all of it.”
“I ams tries to makes it evens,” Toki explained, puffing away a lock of dark hair that had settled in his Fu Manchu. He too was covered in patches of dark hair, and was still wielding a pair of scissors. “We could ams tries to takes more offs da tops!”
“Uh, no, I think you’ve done enough,” said Charles, who actually found himself smiling.
Ganesh, still unspeaking and apparently in deep shock, had gathered Elias into his many arms.
“Heckut, Baap!” said little Elias – little bald Elias – rather proudly. “Unky Tok gib da heckut.”
Ganesh chocked back tears.
“It will grow out,” said Charles.
Ganesh looked up from his martini. “I believe we should prevent that boy from ever again visiting his cousins,” he grumbled.
“Now, isn’t that a bit extreme?”
“Or at least until he achieves his 35th birthday!”
“It’s only hair. It’ll grow back,” said Charles. “Hey, maybe I should shave mine again so we’ll match,” he said, putting a hand through his own hair.
“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING!” said Ganesh.
“I’m just joking,” said Charles, who actually wasn’t. “You shaved your chest hair,” he added, snatching the olive from Ganesh's martini.
“THAT was DIFFERENT,” insisted Ganesh.
“Look aren’t you always the one telling me he needs to grow up?” said Charles, waving a toothpick.
“This should not include unattractive hairstyles.”
“Could be worse. Could be a mullet!” Charles pointed out.
“Those were fashionable! At one point.”
“You’re kidding me, Ganesh? A mullet? What for 30 seconds some time in July of 1987?”
“Baap!” called Elias, who had just bounded into the room.
“Yes, dear?” asked Ganesh sadly as Elias wriggled up next to him.
“Eawwing!”
“He’s got an earwig?” asked Charles.
“Eawwing!” repeated their son, indicating his cousin Liam, who was right behind him.
Liam now sported a single golden stud in his left earlobe.
“Earring?” gasped Charles. “Oh-“
“An da piwwate!” said Elias.
“Elias!” warned Charles. “RAZIEL!” he shouted, as she had just entered the room along with Abby.
“Well, she was getting them, so Liam wanted one,” said Raziel.
“And you do anything your kids want?” demanded Charles.
“Oh what a lovely idea!” said Ganesh. “You wish an earring, like Baap?” said Ganesh, fingering his own ear.
“Uh-huh!” agreed Elias.
“WHAT?” said Charles.
“We could get him a little golden hoop,” said Ganesh.
“Uh-huh, da gowd hoop,” agreed Elias.
“NO EARRINGS! Not ‘til he’s at least 123 years old!” insisted Charles.
“Well, you guys are taking this well,” laughed Raziel.
“Raziel, could you just skip visiting us again until my son has reached middle age?” grumbled Charles.
“Oh, so you won’t wanna see this picture I found of Ganesh disco dancing … in 1989?” grinned Raziel, holding up her smart phone.
“Er,” said Ganesh.
“A mullet? You’re kidding!” said Charles, who had already grabbed the phone.
“It was thought to be stylish. After a fashion,” said Ganesh.
“I can’t believe this! And you know the annoying thing? He still looks really cute,” Charles told Raziel.
“Well, I gotta go,” said Raziel, grabbing back the phone. “Gonna get the kids tattooed now! Hey, kids!” she said as the twins ran after her.
“What! Wait! RAZIEL!” said Charles as she and her children disappeared.
“Er, do you suppose she was joking?” asked Ganesh.
“Dattoo, Daddy!” said Elias.
“Can I have one of those martinis?” sighed Charles, sinking down into the couch.
