Application for APOS (Daughters of Mnemosyne)

[mnemosyneeater]

((Though I use 'he' Apos is actually a hermaphrodite. But since he seems to identify and dress like a male, I've decided to use it in narration. His voice, similarly, sounds male.))

A blond haired young man wearing black wandered in through the door of the sorting room, carrying a wicker basket of blue orbs in one hand, and a broad sword in the

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[carriesapurse]

Did someone say mass orgy of reluctant lovers? Tinky Winky wheeled the Tubby Custard machine along, and its nozzle was oozing pink goo.

"Eh-oh!"

[mnemosyneeater]

What was that?

Apos stared, keeping his distance. Was it even speaking the same language as he?

[carriesapurse]

The Teletubby pumped his Tubby Custard machine's phallic dispenser. Viscous pink 'custard' gushed forth, the perennial ooze giving way to a directed and forceful stream.

It was mostly getting on Tinky Winky's body and on the surrounding floor. It might spray bystanders, however, if they strayed within its errant path.

"Tubby Tustard!" the creature shrieked with glee. It was his favorite, very favorite food. Well, maybe tied with Tubby Toast for that honor. Awkwardly he contorted to try placing his mouth in the way of the stream, like a dog trying to drink from a hose.

[mnemosyneeater]

The likeness to a dog was not lost on Apos.

He saw an opportunity. Staying out of range, he addressed the purple creature. "Taste nice, does it?" he asked kindly, speaking to it like one would a stupid animal.

[carriesapurse]

Unseen, bodiless, a cheery male voice announced:

"Tinky Winky was making a mess!"

Tinky Winky made blubbering sounds into the custard stream.

"Tinky Winky needed to be more tidy," cautioned the disembodied voice.

The Teletubby flailed his mitts and lifted his face from the custard long enough to issue a defiant (and disturbingly coquettish) "Noooooooooooooooooooo!"

Anyone ever wonder why the Narrator does cocaine? This is why. "Tinky Winky should share his Tubby Custard," the voice essayed, trying a different tactic.

"Shawing..." The Teletubby hesitated. Sharing vs. hedonism. The impulses of a Teletubby warred within his unnatural, unholy heart-analogue. "Tinky Winky shawe!"

And he slung a fistful of custard toward the new boy.

[mnemosyneeater]

The voice shocked him a little. He looked up, wide-eyed. "Yggrasil?" he wondered, stunned.

And then he was covered in viscous custard. He blinked again, stared at the...thing, and brought his hands up to his face, where the custard had been flung. His jacket was ruined too. He moaned a little in disapointment at its loss. He had liked that jacket.

Still, his face wasn't melting off. He swiped his cheek with a finger and sucked on it, tasting the custard. It tasted...different. Something just short of revolting. "This is...Tubby Custard?" he asked tentatively, looking up at the...thing.