hate_gettin_older | [milliways: kidplot]

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milliways

[milliways: kidplot]

What the hell is this place?

Edgar's only sure of three things: (1) it isn't the Tail, therefore (2) he's not supposed to be here, and (3) he's going to be in the worst kind of trouble if a guard sees him. Or anyone who'll call a guard.

The thing is, he's not sure how this could be the Front either. But he's not sure how it could be anyplace else.

For the moment, he's got to try and get out of sight. Maybe under one of those tables.

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As unobtrusively as he can, Curtis shrinks further back, pressing himself against one of the table legs again.

He should've thought of that. Even if it's weird to hug somebody, especially somebody you don't know -- how come he didn't think of that? He's gotta make sure Edgar's okay.

(He doesn't understand why that fierce protectiveness keeps rearing up, but if he thinks about it too much, then he might start crying too.)

Dejah shoots him a pleading gaze and gestures for him to come closer. There's a whole other side of Edgar he can hug. She gestures again when he hesitates.

It's not going to help. What's a hug going to do to help -- help any of what happened to Edgar? This is the kind of stuff he doesn't think even a grown-up could fix.

But the way Dejah's looking at him...if he doesn't do this, it's going to upset her, too.

So he unfolds himself from his corner of the table. Edges closer.

The hug he gives Edgar is considerably more awkward -- it's more like a sideways one-armed pat on the back -- but once he's there, he doesn't pull away.

(i didn't want to die like that)

He leans into Curtis's arm, just a little, and the tears start to back down unshed.

Dejah gives him one final squeeze and pulls back a bit to look into his face. She can't fix it, she knows. But she wants to do something.

She remembers something about chocolate, and making Jasoomians feel better. She reaches into her lap and pulls out the Mars bar and pushes it into Edgar's hands.

"Here. Take this. For later."

He mumbles something like thanks, and sniffs hard.

Maybe he can take it back with him. And give it to Curtis. Along with his protein block; he's eaten so much here, he's not going to need dinner.

Maybe he can figure out how to get back here, and bring Curtis with him.

"And, um..." Curtis fidgets, weaving his fingers together, trying to force himself to look Edgar in the eye. "I heard somebody say if you, um, take a napkin or something with you, it'll make it easier to get back."

He doesn't know when exactly he heard somebody say that, but he knows it's true. Or maybe he just hopes it's true. Maybe in a place that gives you anything you ask for, it'll give you that, too.

A few tables away, voice raise in surprise and there's the clatter of plates and glasses hitting the floor. There's something that sounds like barking.

Dejah's head comes up. "Woola?"

A puppy-like creature with a frog-shaped nose and a huge grin skids into view of the table on his six flat feet. He chirrups a sound like, treats?

Edited 2016-04-27 03:39 (UTC)

Edgar yelps in surprise, scooting back a few inches, and stares.

So does Curtis, in near perfect unison.

"What is that?"

"He's a calot. He's --" She stutters to stop as a fog of memories confuses her. That was weird. "Woola, come here! Come under here right now!"

Woola woofs happily and tackles his mistress, licking her face a most enthusiastic slurping. Dejah falls back in a heap of giggles, her arms around his massive head.

"Woola stop!"

Woola does not stop. She tastes like french fries!

Edgar's starting to grin a little, as the animal is so clearly and so enthusiastically friendly.

"He's like a dog," he says, a bit tentatively.

Curtis nods, equally tentative -- but looking more and more hopeful with each second. If Woola's like a dog, he doesn't seem like he's a mean dog, at least.

His dad always told him that if you meet a strange dog, you oughta let him smell your hand so he can see you're okay. While Woola seems pretty busy already, Curtis scoots closer for the inevitable introduction.

Curtis scoots closer a heartbeat later, there's a calot pup standing on his chest, peering into his face with a very serious expression. Then there's a blur of motion as said calot pup gives Curtis a very thorough sniffing from head to toe.

And then Curtis's face is being washed in the similar fashion to Dejah's.

Meanwhile, Dejah just sits back laughing. "WooooooLA!"

Yeah, no, that's not gonna work either.

... and Edgar, thoroughly distracted from his anguish of a moment ago, begins to laugh in disbelief.

Curtis yelps even louder than before as he's bowled over by the calot pup.

Then: "Mmph!" (That's the sound of a yelp muffled by a calot pup licking his face.)

And then Curtis falls into hysterical, helpless giggles, only halfheartedly trying to fend off Woola. That tickles, weird Martian dog thing!

Dejah sits with her hands over her face, trying and failing utterly at stopping her own laughter.

Once Curtis is thoroughly and completely moistened from hairline to chin, Woola woofs once, a sound of pure delight, and turns his attention to Edgar.

Calot puppy incoming!

This time the yelp is louder, and slightly more indignant, but there's laughter in it.

"Ugh -- get off, you great lump --"

Yeah, Edgar isn't having any more luck than Curtis.

Curtis can't help it: he cracks up. It's only a little muffled due to him scrubbing off his face with his shirtsleeve, but come on, you can't expect him to keep a straight face when they're all getting tackled by a calot puppy!

If anyone looked under the table right now, they'd have no idea how close Curtis was to crying a few minutes ago.

Dejah throws her arms around Woola's middle and throws herself backwards. They both land in a heap with a very loud OOF!. Woola is nothing but six legs, a tongue, and a bundle of wiggles. And right now, he's doing a pretty good job of squashing a Martian princess.

Yeah, so much for keeping her dress clean. Magda Rin is going to kill her.

"All right, all right, get off out of it --"

Well, he's not just going to leave Dejah trapped under a Martian dog thing after she just pulled it off of him, now is he?

Edgar manages to get one arm around Woola's thick neck, pulling from the side instead of from the back so as not to choke the poor stupid thing, and throws a give-me-a-hand-here glance at Curtis.

Edited 2016-05-01 02:51 (UTC)

Of course! It can't be that hard to wrestle an alien dog, right?

So Curtis throws himself at Woola with gusto, still laughing, and tries to grab one of his front legs to help haul him back. Problem is, he's giggling too hard to get a good grip on the calot.

Woola thinks this is an amazing game. He only wiggles harder, and a moment later, he squirts out of the grip of all three children and goes rocketing off through the bar.

"Woola! Woola come back!" Dejah's still laughing as she dashes out after her charge.

"Oh no you don't --"

And Edgar wriggles out from under the table to pelt after them both.

With Curtis right on his heels, bringing up the rear, still scrubbing the Woola slobber off his face.

Who knows where Woola's going to lead them? It could be anywhere. And he can't wait to find out.

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[milliways: kidplot]

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