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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
But he still hadn't found a table. Not that he had much time up there to look for one, and now didn't seem the time to look for one either. Dante was angry. Really, really angry. The Prince was beginning to rediscover his fear of the guy.
The Prince wasn't too young that he didn't understand the comments people were making about him. On a leash? Impolite? But, but, The Prince was just trying to do what he was told! Really he was!
He was in quite a mess by the time Dante bent down to talk to him. Dante's face being right in front of his own didn't help matters much. The Prince cringed and shrunk back from Dante's words. "But, but, The Prince was just trying to find Dante a table! He's not as tall as Dante, so he couldn't see through all those people. So The Prince just wanted to get high enough to see." The Prince didn't cry this time; he was too worn out from the whole ordeal.
The Prince did as he was told, standing quietly next to Dante in the line. He kept his eyes fixed to the ground, and didn't move an inch until Dante did. Right then he began to wish he was like Dante. Then he'd be tall and he would have to stand on top of scales to see over people. He'd also be strong and wouldn't have to rely on other people to protect him. (Especially if said people threatened to leave you alone in the worst part of the city.)
no subject
At least the Prince listened to his words. He was behaving himself beautifully now. Dante was even able to pay for his goods without incident. The clerk of course gave him a dirty look, as did most of the other people in other lines, but finally the damn things were paid for and they were able to get out of the store. He’d been right. It was insanity to bring the Prince to this place. Maybe the city was finally getting to him. Or maybe it was a residual effect of that Green Dragon. Maybe it was just his own stupidity. Either way, he was not in a good mood as he stormed out of Matinal’s.
Now that they were outdoors, Dante had the perfect opportunity to give the Prince a piece of his mind. But he didn’t. The Prince was only quiet when he was eating, so Dante reached into his bag, found a fruit the Prince had picked out, and tossed it lightly to him. “We’ve got a long way to go, so eat up,” he said coldly, continuing away from the store.