the past is gone [closed/complete]
Characters: Cerberus & Melinoe
Date/Time: Shortly after Cerberus found himself alive again?
Location: Around & about 4E
Rating: Like… U
Warnings: None?
Summary: Cerberus wants Mel-hugs now that he’s alive again.
Cerberus whimpered and shook his neck, trying to get the crick out that wouldn't go away. He thought the collar might be making it worse but he had promised mistress he wouldn't touch it, so he couldn't. That would mean being a Bad Dog and he was a Good Dog. Yes. He wanted to see Melpuppy though. Needed to make sure she was ok and to chase anyone away from her that might hurt her.
He walked up to her door-no need to be on 4 feet anymore-and scratched lightly, whining. Cerberus didn't really understand knocking and it made it easier for people to know it was him when he did this. The scratching grew harder as he waited for Melmelmel to come to the door.
Sat quietly in the armchair with her knife laid across her lap, Melinoe stared through the revolver she was absent-mindedly unloading and reloading. Since learning of Cerberus' death and 'dutifully' informing Scylla that the denizens of the Underworld would not be pleased, she had turned her attention away from the network of journals. She did not want to know. She did not want to see the body count rise as the others struggled to survive. Her interest was in her family's welfare only, and at the moment she was stood (well, sat) vigil in her own apartment. Aunt Despoina would not have to use her weapon if she could help it. There was no point if Melinoe was ready to bloody her hands instead. Remembering her mother's words--she was her father's daughter--she realised she was frowning. One hand reached to smooth out her expression, but it stubbornly remained.
Was she a cold creature? She was not exactly very good at any real displays of warmth. Well, she may not be cold, necessarily, but she was hearing things. The whining and scratching at the door was an impossibility, and she had already decided it was a trick as she rose from the chair. She was being stupid--investigating a strange noise while people were doubtlessly dying elsewhere in the complex, and wielding her gun as though she believed she could aim accurately from her hip. This was stupid. Somewhere there was a movie with a plot not unlike this, and the idiot girl who went to investigate the impossible noise ended up dying a horribly gruesome death.
As the scratching got louder, Melinoe's jaw set. Whoever they were, it wasn't funny. Switching all the lights off and hoping she would not alarm her aunt too much, she left the latch on and allowed the door to swing open the few available inches it had to manoeuvre. Where a cautious face would have usually appeared, the barrel of her gun stuck out as a firm warning. It was aimed at a face she recognised well, but she didn't understand.
There wasn't a lot about the living she did understand. "Explain."
Cerberus froze when he saw the gun. He may not know how to use one or how to even hold it, but he recognized it. Plus, that smell was coming very close to making him sneeze again. Something about modern metals bothered him a lot. "Was with Scylla, she hurt me by accident, then I woke up in Acheronriver's and my home. Dunno how. Just did." He sniffed carefully, trying to work out if there was anyone else in Melinoe's apartment that would require him to move quickly-in case they decided to harass her while they spoke-and sneezed when the metal smell hit him hard.
It startled him and he only moved to cover his face after he sneezed-the politeness of covering his face hadn't quite sunk in yet, after all. After shaking his head to get rid of the post sneeze weirdness, he said, "Don't shoot, doesn't want any more pain. Neck and chest still hurt." He pouted to emphasize his point. Being cute was the only way to get things you wanted, it was proven. Well, that and being scary, but Melpuppy wasn't someone to be snapped and growled at. She was master's and mistress' puppy after all.
The creases in her forehead deepened. Cerberus' presence was not quite something she could get her head around. When everyone had been killing themselves, they had just gotten up again afterwards. But then everything had been orchestrated by Cronus--almost down the last, finest detail. This was different. It was what happened to free will when the most fundamental of rules was laid down in stone. Survive. It wasn't shooting fish in a barrel any more, it was shooting idiots in an idiot factory. She studied Cerberus carefully from her place behind the latch, appreciating the fact he seemed to understand she would use it.
Her eyebrows arched at the sneeze, gaze falling to the barrel of the gun--now covered in Cerberus-germs. "That's gross," she informed him childishly. Never would she use words so immature (and therefore, unbefitting of a daughter of Hades) in front of her mother. "Umm," the gun fell to her side and she stuck her head out over the latch to check the hall. "Come in," the door was opened and she ushered quickly with the hand that wielded the knife, "But keep quiet, you'll upset Aunt Despoina." It was odd, how something so natural--like a good friend being alive--could be so unnatural at the same time. And how neither bothered her quite the way they were meant to.
The urge to say 'you're gross' to Melpuppy was rising-he had learned many clever come backs recently in school and that was one of them. Turning what people said back on them. Now, however, was not the time. Especially when she held a knife. "Guns make me achoo," he explained as he scuttled inside. "I don't like the metalsmell."
Cerberus didn't really think all that hard about the logic of him being alive. To him, anything that happened was controlled by the gods (usually Master) and, therefore, worked. Unless it had to do with dog behavior, he didn't know what constituted normal for mortals and not normal. "Melmelmel isn't going to cut me, are you?"
"Sneeze," she corrected automatically. "They make you sneeze. 'Achoo' is how a sneeze sounds." Well, most of the time. Sometimes she sounded more like she was coughing or hiccupping. But he didn't need to know that particular piece of useless information. As for his sneezing, the best she could do was stuff the thing in the back pocket of her jeans and hope it didn't misfire. That would be unfortunate to say the least. Especially since it might look like Cerberus had shot her. Her mother wouldn't be pleased.
"Cut you?" For a moment Melinoe struggled to place the meaning of the actual phrase. It was something she associated with those she encountered while she was out at night. They shouted similar phrases quite a lot. "What? Oh," the knife was stowed behind her back almost as though she had been caught doing something naughty. "No, but Mama said to always keep it with me. Even when in the shower. So I do." She shrugged awkwardly, trying not to flash the blade around.
"... Why would I 'cut you'?" The idea was absurd.
"Sneeze," he said obediently. It would be called 'achoo'-ing again in about 5 seconds, but at least he tried. The former dog wriggled a little when she put away the gun; it wouldn't bother him now and he didn't have to worry about it accidently going off and making him die again. Dying sucked and he didn't like it. No wonder the mortals (tasty, tasty mortals) tried to run out of the Underworld.
"'Cause you have the knife out and that's how Scylla stabbed me by accident." Cerberus eyed Melpuppy for a few moments while he contemplated if he should launch his need to for snuggles now or wait a few more minutes. "Need scritches and snuggles. I hurt from being killed."
Yes, his puppy eyes were showing.
"Oh." Melinoe froze, torn for a moment between dropping the knife like hot coals or doing as she had been told. The moment was short-lived, as she was generally incapable of not following instructions from her parents. "I, um..." Shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other, she struggled to rectify the situation. She could not keep the knife out lest she accidentally hurt Cerberus--though she did not think herself that clumsy--and putting it down was not an option. "I...Well--Oh!" She ran towards her room, "Give me a minute--Or five--No, three."
Two minutes later and she came back out wearing knee high boots over her jeans, the knife tucked into the right boot. "Better?" One hand automatically reached to ruffle his hair. I hurt from being killed... Well, she had heard stranger.
One day she would find the heart to tell him the puppy eyes didn't work on her. But not right now.
Cerberus stayed where he was, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited. What was she doing? Not that it really mattered if she came back. Once she got back, he was butting his head into her hand. After a few moments, he fell to the floor boneless and rolled on his back, his hands and feet up in the air.
Belly rubs were needed. Necessary for life. Better then food, etc. Also, they itched him in just the right spots and it was better if someone else was doing it for him.
If Cerberus was ever told puppy eyes didn't work on Melpuppy, he would be shocked. And he wouldn't believe it. She did pet him after all.
Pressing her palm to her forehead in fond amusement, Melinoe grinned. She knew it was a false sense of security that this gesture offered, but it was something, and she found herself taking a seat on the floor beside him regardless. She wondered if he had any idea how bizarre he looked as a human, which somehow lead her to try and remember how he had ever managed to lie like this with three heads. Had there even been enough room for him to roll over properly?
She bit her lip so as not to laugh while one hand idly rubbed his tummy, eyebrow arching at the way his limbs arranged themselves. Was he honestly comfortable like that? Surely the human centre of gravity couldn't allow for it... Not that it mattered if it worked for him. It was unlikely a dog, even a human-dog, could provide satisfactory answers to most of the questions she held anyway. "Have you taken painkillers?"
Cerberus' legs twisted and twitched when she rubbed his stomach. Oh gods, it felt good. If his tongue were long enough, it would be hanging out and he would be panting everywhere, but, fortunately for everyone involved, he couldn't do that. When Melpuppy reached a particularly itchy spot, his leg went crazy, scratching at the air like he was scratching at his own stomach.
"No, don't like pills, they taste bad when you crunch them." Cerberus didn't know that humans could swallow them whole. "Neck is sore and chest is too. More itchy then sore though." He gazed at her through half closed eyes, relaxing more then he had since then collar was put on him.
"Don't touch the collar." The rule seemed to be a given now, but the command shot from her mouth regardless--and it couldn't really be mistaken for anythig else. Even though she didn't really have the authority, sometimes she had a knack for sounding like she did. She put that down to her parents.
After a few minutes, scratching Cerberus' tummy and staring into space, she hopped to her feet without much warning. "I'll get you something to eat." And she was in the kitchen, crushing painkillers with a spoon before he had a chance to follow and see what she was doing. The most he would see was her sprinkling white powder into a ham sandwich--with extra ham, just in case. Even if he was more itchy than he was sore, if it made him feel better the minor trickery was worth it.
"We don't have any food that's more... doggy," she apologised, bringing the plate out with her. "And itching usually means your skin is healing. Or at least that's what the television said." She paused. "But I would have thought that rather obvious since you're alive." Her thought process conveniently suffocated the voice that filled in the 'and you're not supposed to be'.
"You must eat it all."
"I know. Mistress said not to." Cerberus considered getting up to go after her, but it seemed like too much effort so he flopped over onto his side and waited for her come back. He would know nothing of her evil, cruel trickery. When he saw the food, though, he pushed himself up so he was sitting upright and bounced a little in excitement.
"It's ok, food is good." He made grabby hands for the food. "Oh, ok. Won't itch at it then." He grabbed the sandwich and took a huge bite out of it. It wouldn't be a problem for him to eat the whole thing-in fact, he would probably do it so quickly that he didn't even notice the slight bitterness of the pills.
"Yes, Melmelmel."
"Mama tends to be right about these things." Well, not tended to be. She actually was. But Melinoe was not inclined to announce the infallibility of either of her parents, no matter how much she may want to believe it. Besides, it wasn't really the done thing, was it?
Something that might have developed into a smirk if given the chance arose on her face. She watched him devour the sandwich with an air of mild satisfaction. Cronus had taught her how to trick children, and if it worked on those demonic things, it was a given that it would work on Cerberus. The other option was trying to teach him to swallow it whole, but she didn't really want to deal with the potential choking and retching.
"Are you feeling better?" It was far too easy for her to view his death as just a vaguely serious illness that he was recovering from. Because, really, in Melinoe's head that was all it really amounted to.
Her lap looked very inviting. So inviting that she had to let him sleep in it. Or just rest. Cerberus threw himself down on Mel's lap, nuzzling into her leg as he settled. "Yeah. 'S not all the way better but it's gettin there." Or something. Probably because he wasn't as tense as he had been before. Melpuppy was safe and he doubted he would be killed here, even by accident.
Wriggling a little to free the gun from her back pocket (just in case), Melinoe settled down too. With the modern-metal held away from Cerberus, she turned her eyes to the door.
Her free hand ruffled his hair again and she yawned, neglecting to cover her mouth. "Everything will be alright soon."
Cerberus reached up and patted Melinoe's mouth for her. "Melpuppy should sleep. I can watch and be guard dog 'cause I guard." He settled back in her lap. Maybe they could curl up in bed or something and Cerberus could watch from there. He didn't care about Melpuppy's aunt all that much, just Mel.
"But I've already had a nap," she protested, though the next yawn (that she remembered to cover up this time) confirmed that it was time for another. This situation was messing with Melinoe's sleeping pattern--which was strange enough as it stood. "Mmfine," she stretched, pouting slightly. Another yawn was added to the collection and she waved one arm in the direction of her room.
"But I'm only lying down for a bit."
"Doesn't matter. Melpuppy needs a guard cause Melpuppy is Pack. Pack is important. And yes." Cerberus rolled to his feet and held a hand out for Melpuppy to use to get up. He would do his guard duty, yes. And nap while he was at it because he could guard and nap at the same time, he was that amazing.
Date/Time: Shortly after Cerberus found himself alive again?
Location: Around & about 4E
Rating: Like… U
Warnings: None?
Summary: Cerberus wants Mel-hugs now that he’s alive again.
Cerberus whimpered and shook his neck, trying to get the crick out that wouldn't go away. He thought the collar might be making it worse but he had promised mistress he wouldn't touch it, so he couldn't. That would mean being a Bad Dog and he was a Good Dog. Yes. He wanted to see Melpuppy though. Needed to make sure she was ok and to chase anyone away from her that might hurt her.
He walked up to her door-no need to be on 4 feet anymore-and scratched lightly, whining. Cerberus didn't really understand knocking and it made it easier for people to know it was him when he did this. The scratching grew harder as he waited for Melmelmel to come to the door.
Sat quietly in the armchair with her knife laid across her lap, Melinoe stared through the revolver she was absent-mindedly unloading and reloading. Since learning of Cerberus' death and 'dutifully' informing Scylla that the denizens of the Underworld would not be pleased, she had turned her attention away from the network of journals. She did not want to know. She did not want to see the body count rise as the others struggled to survive. Her interest was in her family's welfare only, and at the moment she was stood (well, sat) vigil in her own apartment. Aunt Despoina would not have to use her weapon if she could help it. There was no point if Melinoe was ready to bloody her hands instead. Remembering her mother's words--she was her father's daughter--she realised she was frowning. One hand reached to smooth out her expression, but it stubbornly remained.
Was she a cold creature? She was not exactly very good at any real displays of warmth. Well, she may not be cold, necessarily, but she was hearing things. The whining and scratching at the door was an impossibility, and she had already decided it was a trick as she rose from the chair. She was being stupid--investigating a strange noise while people were doubtlessly dying elsewhere in the complex, and wielding her gun as though she believed she could aim accurately from her hip. This was stupid. Somewhere there was a movie with a plot not unlike this, and the idiot girl who went to investigate the impossible noise ended up dying a horribly gruesome death.
As the scratching got louder, Melinoe's jaw set. Whoever they were, it wasn't funny. Switching all the lights off and hoping she would not alarm her aunt too much, she left the latch on and allowed the door to swing open the few available inches it had to manoeuvre. Where a cautious face would have usually appeared, the barrel of her gun stuck out as a firm warning. It was aimed at a face she recognised well, but she didn't understand.
There wasn't a lot about the living she did understand. "Explain."
Cerberus froze when he saw the gun. He may not know how to use one or how to even hold it, but he recognized it. Plus, that smell was coming very close to making him sneeze again. Something about modern metals bothered him a lot. "Was with Scylla, she hurt me by accident, then I woke up in Acheronriver's and my home. Dunno how. Just did." He sniffed carefully, trying to work out if there was anyone else in Melinoe's apartment that would require him to move quickly-in case they decided to harass her while they spoke-and sneezed when the metal smell hit him hard.
It startled him and he only moved to cover his face after he sneezed-the politeness of covering his face hadn't quite sunk in yet, after all. After shaking his head to get rid of the post sneeze weirdness, he said, "Don't shoot, doesn't want any more pain. Neck and chest still hurt." He pouted to emphasize his point. Being cute was the only way to get things you wanted, it was proven. Well, that and being scary, but Melpuppy wasn't someone to be snapped and growled at. She was master's and mistress' puppy after all.
The creases in her forehead deepened. Cerberus' presence was not quite something she could get her head around. When everyone had been killing themselves, they had just gotten up again afterwards. But then everything had been orchestrated by Cronus--almost down the last, finest detail. This was different. It was what happened to free will when the most fundamental of rules was laid down in stone. Survive. It wasn't shooting fish in a barrel any more, it was shooting idiots in an idiot factory. She studied Cerberus carefully from her place behind the latch, appreciating the fact he seemed to understand she would use it.
Her eyebrows arched at the sneeze, gaze falling to the barrel of the gun--now covered in Cerberus-germs. "That's gross," she informed him childishly. Never would she use words so immature (and therefore, unbefitting of a daughter of Hades) in front of her mother. "Umm," the gun fell to her side and she stuck her head out over the latch to check the hall. "Come in," the door was opened and she ushered quickly with the hand that wielded the knife, "But keep quiet, you'll upset Aunt Despoina." It was odd, how something so natural--like a good friend being alive--could be so unnatural at the same time. And how neither bothered her quite the way they were meant to.
The urge to say 'you're gross' to Melpuppy was rising-he had learned many clever come backs recently in school and that was one of them. Turning what people said back on them. Now, however, was not the time. Especially when she held a knife. "Guns make me achoo," he explained as he scuttled inside. "I don't like the metalsmell."
Cerberus didn't really think all that hard about the logic of him being alive. To him, anything that happened was controlled by the gods (usually Master) and, therefore, worked. Unless it had to do with dog behavior, he didn't know what constituted normal for mortals and not normal. "Melmelmel isn't going to cut me, are you?"
"Sneeze," she corrected automatically. "They make you sneeze. 'Achoo' is how a sneeze sounds." Well, most of the time. Sometimes she sounded more like she was coughing or hiccupping. But he didn't need to know that particular piece of useless information. As for his sneezing, the best she could do was stuff the thing in the back pocket of her jeans and hope it didn't misfire. That would be unfortunate to say the least. Especially since it might look like Cerberus had shot her. Her mother wouldn't be pleased.
"Cut you?" For a moment Melinoe struggled to place the meaning of the actual phrase. It was something she associated with those she encountered while she was out at night. They shouted similar phrases quite a lot. "What? Oh," the knife was stowed behind her back almost as though she had been caught doing something naughty. "No, but Mama said to always keep it with me. Even when in the shower. So I do." She shrugged awkwardly, trying not to flash the blade around.
"... Why would I 'cut you'?" The idea was absurd.
"Sneeze," he said obediently. It would be called 'achoo'-ing again in about 5 seconds, but at least he tried. The former dog wriggled a little when she put away the gun; it wouldn't bother him now and he didn't have to worry about it accidently going off and making him die again. Dying sucked and he didn't like it. No wonder the mortals (tasty, tasty mortals) tried to run out of the Underworld.
"'Cause you have the knife out and that's how Scylla stabbed me by accident." Cerberus eyed Melpuppy for a few moments while he contemplated if he should launch his need to for snuggles now or wait a few more minutes. "Need scritches and snuggles. I hurt from being killed."
Yes, his puppy eyes were showing.
"Oh." Melinoe froze, torn for a moment between dropping the knife like hot coals or doing as she had been told. The moment was short-lived, as she was generally incapable of not following instructions from her parents. "I, um..." Shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other, she struggled to rectify the situation. She could not keep the knife out lest she accidentally hurt Cerberus--though she did not think herself that clumsy--and putting it down was not an option. "I...Well--Oh!" She ran towards her room, "Give me a minute--Or five--No, three."
Two minutes later and she came back out wearing knee high boots over her jeans, the knife tucked into the right boot. "Better?" One hand automatically reached to ruffle his hair. I hurt from being killed... Well, she had heard stranger.
One day she would find the heart to tell him the puppy eyes didn't work on her. But not right now.
Cerberus stayed where he was, shifting from one foot to the other as he waited. What was she doing? Not that it really mattered if she came back. Once she got back, he was butting his head into her hand. After a few moments, he fell to the floor boneless and rolled on his back, his hands and feet up in the air.
Belly rubs were needed. Necessary for life. Better then food, etc. Also, they itched him in just the right spots and it was better if someone else was doing it for him.
If Cerberus was ever told puppy eyes didn't work on Melpuppy, he would be shocked. And he wouldn't believe it. She did pet him after all.
Pressing her palm to her forehead in fond amusement, Melinoe grinned. She knew it was a false sense of security that this gesture offered, but it was something, and she found herself taking a seat on the floor beside him regardless. She wondered if he had any idea how bizarre he looked as a human, which somehow lead her to try and remember how he had ever managed to lie like this with three heads. Had there even been enough room for him to roll over properly?
She bit her lip so as not to laugh while one hand idly rubbed his tummy, eyebrow arching at the way his limbs arranged themselves. Was he honestly comfortable like that? Surely the human centre of gravity couldn't allow for it... Not that it mattered if it worked for him. It was unlikely a dog, even a human-dog, could provide satisfactory answers to most of the questions she held anyway. "Have you taken painkillers?"
Cerberus' legs twisted and twitched when she rubbed his stomach. Oh gods, it felt good. If his tongue were long enough, it would be hanging out and he would be panting everywhere, but, fortunately for everyone involved, he couldn't do that. When Melpuppy reached a particularly itchy spot, his leg went crazy, scratching at the air like he was scratching at his own stomach.
"No, don't like pills, they taste bad when you crunch them." Cerberus didn't know that humans could swallow them whole. "Neck is sore and chest is too. More itchy then sore though." He gazed at her through half closed eyes, relaxing more then he had since then collar was put on him.
"Don't touch the collar." The rule seemed to be a given now, but the command shot from her mouth regardless--and it couldn't really be mistaken for anythig else. Even though she didn't really have the authority, sometimes she had a knack for sounding like she did. She put that down to her parents.
After a few minutes, scratching Cerberus' tummy and staring into space, she hopped to her feet without much warning. "I'll get you something to eat." And she was in the kitchen, crushing painkillers with a spoon before he had a chance to follow and see what she was doing. The most he would see was her sprinkling white powder into a ham sandwich--with extra ham, just in case. Even if he was more itchy than he was sore, if it made him feel better the minor trickery was worth it.
"We don't have any food that's more... doggy," she apologised, bringing the plate out with her. "And itching usually means your skin is healing. Or at least that's what the television said." She paused. "But I would have thought that rather obvious since you're alive." Her thought process conveniently suffocated the voice that filled in the 'and you're not supposed to be'.
"You must eat it all."
"I know. Mistress said not to." Cerberus considered getting up to go after her, but it seemed like too much effort so he flopped over onto his side and waited for her come back. He would know nothing of her evil, cruel trickery. When he saw the food, though, he pushed himself up so he was sitting upright and bounced a little in excitement.
"It's ok, food is good." He made grabby hands for the food. "Oh, ok. Won't itch at it then." He grabbed the sandwich and took a huge bite out of it. It wouldn't be a problem for him to eat the whole thing-in fact, he would probably do it so quickly that he didn't even notice the slight bitterness of the pills.
"Yes, Melmelmel."
"Mama tends to be right about these things." Well, not tended to be. She actually was. But Melinoe was not inclined to announce the infallibility of either of her parents, no matter how much she may want to believe it. Besides, it wasn't really the done thing, was it?
Something that might have developed into a smirk if given the chance arose on her face. She watched him devour the sandwich with an air of mild satisfaction. Cronus had taught her how to trick children, and if it worked on those demonic things, it was a given that it would work on Cerberus. The other option was trying to teach him to swallow it whole, but she didn't really want to deal with the potential choking and retching.
"Are you feeling better?" It was far too easy for her to view his death as just a vaguely serious illness that he was recovering from. Because, really, in Melinoe's head that was all it really amounted to.
Her lap looked very inviting. So inviting that she had to let him sleep in it. Or just rest. Cerberus threw himself down on Mel's lap, nuzzling into her leg as he settled. "Yeah. 'S not all the way better but it's gettin there." Or something. Probably because he wasn't as tense as he had been before. Melpuppy was safe and he doubted he would be killed here, even by accident.
Wriggling a little to free the gun from her back pocket (just in case), Melinoe settled down too. With the modern-metal held away from Cerberus, she turned her eyes to the door.
Her free hand ruffled his hair again and she yawned, neglecting to cover her mouth. "Everything will be alright soon."
Cerberus reached up and patted Melinoe's mouth for her. "Melpuppy should sleep. I can watch and be guard dog 'cause I guard." He settled back in her lap. Maybe they could curl up in bed or something and Cerberus could watch from there. He didn't care about Melpuppy's aunt all that much, just Mel.
"But I've already had a nap," she protested, though the next yawn (that she remembered to cover up this time) confirmed that it was time for another. This situation was messing with Melinoe's sleeping pattern--which was strange enough as it stood. "Mmfine," she stretched, pouting slightly. Another yawn was added to the collection and she waved one arm in the direction of her room.
"But I'm only lying down for a bit."
"Doesn't matter. Melpuppy needs a guard cause Melpuppy is Pack. Pack is important. And yes." Cerberus rolled to his feet and held a hand out for Melpuppy to use to get up. He would do his guard duty, yes. And nap while he was at it because he could guard and nap at the same time, he was that amazing.