http://dnc-ays.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
dnc-ays.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paixaorpg2006-09-11 01:04 pm
dnc-ays.livejournal.com) wrote in paixaorpg2006-09-11 01:04 pm
Entry tags:
Stuck With The Weird [complete]
Character(s): The Prince, Dante
Content: Dante is drafted for babysitting duty. Imagine the extreme joy Dante feels.
Setting: A restaurant near N8 and moves along to Matinal's.
Time: week 2, evening
Warnings: None yet
Dante nearly threw his journal across the room when he read Jenet’s little note.
She was going out drinking. Okay, that was cool. Dante appreciated a few good drinks every now and then, and never objected to someone going out to have a good time. He did that pretty often himself. Sometimes he’d go with Trish, and other times he’d leave the office in her hands and go get plastered on his own.
That wasn’t the part he objected to. Not at all.
Jenet was going to a bar. Children were not allowed at bars. Jenet’s pint-sized friend was a child.
She was leaving the strange…kid…thing with him. As in his care. He’d be responsible for the little tyke. He’d have to make sure he ate all his meals and was tucked into bed at a reasonable hour.
What had Dante ever done to show Jenet that he was a kid person????!!!! One could imagine the indignity that resulted from such an implication.
“Jenet, the next time I see you, I’m going to owe you a lot more than a drink!” he yelled at the journal screen, among other choice words. She may have been hot, but she just stiffed him! This was going to be one of the worst nights ever! The kid was weird. Dante could handle weird most nights. On a good, sober night, maybe even kid. But not both. Not at once.
Dante imagined the Prince’s sunny smile and rambling sentences, and almost snapped his journal in half.
They had been in a restaurant. Had been, as in the manager had come over to their table and quietly asked them to leave. Now Dante was stalking outside the building, pacing back and forth, swearing his head off. He didn’t care if Prince heard him or not. He was pissed, and everyone was going to hear about it.
Content: Dante is drafted for babysitting duty. Imagine the extreme joy Dante feels.
Setting: A restaurant near N8 and moves along to Matinal's.
Time: week 2, evening
Warnings: None yet
Dante nearly threw his journal across the room when he read Jenet’s little note.
She was going out drinking. Okay, that was cool. Dante appreciated a few good drinks every now and then, and never objected to someone going out to have a good time. He did that pretty often himself. Sometimes he’d go with Trish, and other times he’d leave the office in her hands and go get plastered on his own.
That wasn’t the part he objected to. Not at all.
Jenet was going to a bar. Children were not allowed at bars. Jenet’s pint-sized friend was a child.
She was leaving the strange…kid…thing with him. As in his care. He’d be responsible for the little tyke. He’d have to make sure he ate all his meals and was tucked into bed at a reasonable hour.
What had Dante ever done to show Jenet that he was a kid person????!!!! One could imagine the indignity that resulted from such an implication.
“Jenet, the next time I see you, I’m going to owe you a lot more than a drink!” he yelled at the journal screen, among other choice words. She may have been hot, but she just stiffed him! This was going to be one of the worst nights ever! The kid was weird. Dante could handle weird most nights. On a good, sober night, maybe even kid. But not both. Not at once.
Dante imagined the Prince’s sunny smile and rambling sentences, and almost snapped his journal in half.
They had been in a restaurant. Had been, as in the manager had come over to their table and quietly asked them to leave. Now Dante was stalking outside the building, pacing back and forth, swearing his head off. He didn’t care if Prince heard him or not. He was pissed, and everyone was going to hear about it.
no subject
Dante slipped his hand inside his pocket to feel for how much money he had. Yep, he still had a decent amount, judging by how many coins he ran his fingers over. It was Pieshow currency too. He’d gotten change when he’d paid for the hotel rooms for himself and Lady. He wondered for a few moments how she was doing. He hadn’t heard from her in awhile. Neither journal entries or comments or anything of the like. She’d probably found a new group of people to hang out with. Probably with those exorcists or what the hell!
His thoughts were immediately derailed when he heard shouts and the creaking and clanging of metal. Dante looked up to see none other than the Prince, standing on top of the produce scale, though it clearly wasn’t built to hold more than the occasional plus-sized watermelon. “SHIT!”
Dante roughly pushed past the others waiting in line. He had taken his eye off the Prince for one minute, and he’d already gotten himself in trouble! If he broke that scale, who knew how much they’d be charged! “Dammit, Prince, what are you thinking!! Get the hell down from there!” The clerk was saying as much, too, though he was afraid to touch the Prince. Dante wasn’t, though. He reached up, took the Prince by the middle, and pulled him down from the scale, setting him on the ground again.
The clerk took a deep breath. Hopefully that unruly child had not broken his scale. He’d spent all morning working on balancing it just right. He had it perfectly calibrated with all the other scales in the entire store, too. He took a customer’s shiny red apple and placed it on the scale. He knew the average weight of an apple by heart. And the reading from the scale was definitely, definitely off. Apples didn’t weigh three pounds! The clerk tried not to spaz, and instead placed a ‘next register please’ sign in front of his counter, much to the chagrin of those already in his line.
Anger displaces quickly, and those who had been waiting turned to glare at Dante. Not at the Prince, but Dante. He had the privilege to hear such passive-aggressive wonders as, “Some people should never have children,” “If that kid were mine, I’d have kept him on a leash,” “My child would never have been so impolite as to pull such a stunt,” and, “Gee, thanks, buddy, your kid broke the scale and now we have to wait all over again in another line.”
Each comment made Dante’s apologetic smile stretch thinner and thinner. He had half a mind to tan the Prince’s hide, as someone suggested she would do to her child. But everything was going to be fine. He didn’t have to pay for any damage. He wasn’t going to break the Prince’s arm over a little mishap… though it would have been justified at this point.
But to make a good, solid impression on the kid, he bent down to Prince-level and looked him right in the eye. “All right, kid. What the fuck did you do that for?” he growled in a low voice. “You should know better than that! You’re lucky you didn’t do more damage than that, otherwise I would have left you here to fix it! Now come on.” He stood up and looked for a new line to wait in. “If you want to eat, you’ll wait quietly, right by my side, as the most silent, most well-behaved prince to ever set foot in this realm.” He settled on a new line, and this time, he kept a very close eye on the kid.