Title: Tidus Has A Fun Nighttime Experience
I posted this... for you guys...
Tidus woke up in the night, not because of his usual nighttime fretting that he was going to wake up with one of the girls sitting on his chest and crushing his rib cage or staring blankly into his blue eyes with likewise blue or brown eyes only a few millimeters away.
That he was used to by now.
No, Tidus awoke because he could hear someone crashing around in the dark dormitory the four of them slept in, even if Itachi was forced under duress to wear one of those eye-covering things that look like horse-blinders and Voldemort had to sleep with his hands tied and his mouth gagged. That left Seymour, or, Go--Yevon--something forbid, the girls. Seymour usually slept the entire night through though, which disgusted Tidus. If you're going to be a psychotic and planned mass murderer with a deep past full of psychological issues with parental neglect and exclusion, not to mention a BATSHIT INSANE MOTHER, you should not be able to sleep soundly at night. You should at least mutter restlessly.
But because Tidus had a tendency to get lost in his vindictive reflections on how the world should be, he failed to notice, or indeed, open his eyes, when the crashing drew near. This turned out badly, because when he abruptly came back to himself when a loud crash sounded two feet away he jumped to his feet, knocking his head on the top bunk (Tidus was disinclined to argue with Lord Voldemort on such matters, and he heard a loud snort) and fell forward.
He felt the source of the offending noises fall over him, as well as a swoosh of heat.
"WHAT THE HELL?" Tidus screamed, finally opening his eyes. Instead of the pitch-black darkness he expected, he was greeted by... not quite pitch-black darkness and a bright halo of light around Seymour's head.
No, no, sillies! Seymour had not overcome his deep psychological issues and become a saint!
His head was on fire.
More specifically, his long lovely locks.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your view) his entire mass of hair was not actually on fire. The ends of his hair were on fire, and they had flopped around his head when he tripped over Tidus.
Tidus was at first more inclined sit and laugh at Seymour, having all kinds of conflicts with him, but his inner hero prevailed, and he looked around frantically for some kind of way to extinguish the flame. This was not particularly effective, considering it was dark, and he began to lurch around blindly looking for the light switch (the girls were fond of randomly changing the layout of the room while they slept)
His hands, groping the walls, managed to find what felt like a telephone. He pulled desperately at it and put it against his ear.
"Hello, how may I help you?" said a microscopic, tinny voice from the other end. No, not tiny. Otherwise I would have just said "tiny" and not added microscopic.
"Seymour's on fire!" said Tidus irrationally.
"...Congratulations, sir. Please, this is a help hotline and tying up the phone is not appreciated. If you have an issue with health, monetary issues, or political incorrectness please call again at this number. Our hours are between 7 am and 12:30 on odd days of the month, 3 pm and 4 am on even days on leap years, 3 and 5 on others, and between Lamnas and Samhain we have periodic issues with attacking mythological figures--"
"No, his hair's literally on fire!"
"Please describe the fire."
"What?"
"Describe the fire."
"Why?" screamed Tidus.
"It's necessary to know the situation so that I can analyze it properly and advise you with help. Please, sir, I am a trained professional."
Tidus scanned the room wildly. "Uh.. well... he's lying on the floor, beating his hair and trying to make it go out but it's not going well because his hair is too rigid--"
"--I'm sorry, would you give me the address?"
"I don't know it!"
"I'm sorry, I cannot get a trained animal expert there in time to help your rabbit. I must warn you, though, that you may be liable for charges of animal abuse--"
"The hair on his head!"
"Why would he put a burning rabbit on his head?"
"H-A-I-R!"
"Please describe the situation to me."
"Thats all there is to say, it's burning!"
"Describe the flame."
"It's red and orange and a bit of white at the center, there might be some blue too but that could be his hair! It's waving around his head and it's really hot!"
"Please hold."
"WHAT?"
"Please hold. I have to consult our databases."
Tidus waited a few seconds, tapping his foot. This was not satisfactory, so he switched instead to hopping from foot to foot. This too, was not adequate and he began to dance in little circles. This entire little ritual helped contribute to the appearance that he was waiting to use the restroom.
"I've found it."
Tidus pumped his fist in his distinctive gesture.
"Yes, that's definitely fire. Orangey red, warm, forming an aureole... Definitely fire."
Tidus was momentarily unable to breathe.
"What do I do about it?" he demanded as strongly as he could muster, once his capacity for body movement had returned.
"I'm sorry sir, this organization does not have the faculties to advise you on fire prevention and control. You can call our sister organization PSIMHI, but due to their slightly ambiguous abbreviation they have been shut down and are currently unreachable. You can find their building--"
Tidus hung up.
"Seymour, it looks like you're gonna die," he told the writhing figure, now past his panic with some stranage, bemused smile on his face.
He supposed this should be a good thing. After all, he had killed Seymour multiple times before--
"Oh, dammit," he said, and beat the fire out with his shirt.
Now that his practically useless shirt was rendered even more useless by virtue of being scorched into ashes, Tidus found himself, unsurprisingly, shirtless.
Seymour, the ungrateful wretch, stood up with the full dignity of a Guado leader. Somehow, he managed to retain it despite having five seconds earlier been crashing around the room and writhing on the ground beating his own head. He thanked Tidus politely and briefly before returning to his bunk bed.
Tidus, grumbling to himself, laid down and went back to sleep.
He woke up five minutes later, because there were two pairs of eyes staring intently into his. He screamed, and flailed around a bit, and completely failed to be effective.
"For God's sake," said Crystal, "put on a shirt."
"Yeah, Tidus," said Talasin, "there are ladies in the room."
-end-
How did Seymour's hair catch on fire? I don't know. Make up your own reason.
Tidus woke up in the night, not because of his usual nighttime fretting that he was going to wake up with one of the girls sitting on his chest and crushing his rib cage or staring blankly into his blue eyes with likewise blue or brown eyes only a few millimeters away.
That he was used to by now.
No, Tidus awoke because he could hear someone crashing around in the dark dormitory the four of them slept in, even if Itachi was forced under duress to wear one of those eye-covering things that look like horse-blinders and Voldemort had to sleep with his hands tied and his mouth gagged. That left Seymour, or, Go--Yevon--something forbid, the girls. Seymour usually slept the entire night through though, which disgusted Tidus. If you're going to be a psychotic and planned mass murderer with a deep past full of psychological issues with parental neglect and exclusion, not to mention a BATSHIT INSANE MOTHER, you should not be able to sleep soundly at night. You should at least mutter restlessly.
But because Tidus had a tendency to get lost in his vindictive reflections on how the world should be, he failed to notice, or indeed, open his eyes, when the crashing drew near. This turned out badly, because when he abruptly came back to himself when a loud crash sounded two feet away he jumped to his feet, knocking his head on the top bunk (Tidus was disinclined to argue with Lord Voldemort on such matters, and he heard a loud snort) and fell forward.
He felt the source of the offending noises fall over him, as well as a swoosh of heat.
"WHAT THE HELL?" Tidus screamed, finally opening his eyes. Instead of the pitch-black darkness he expected, he was greeted by... not quite pitch-black darkness and a bright halo of light around Seymour's head.
No, no, sillies! Seymour had not overcome his deep psychological issues and become a saint!
His head was on fire.
More specifically, his long lovely locks.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your view) his entire mass of hair was not actually on fire. The ends of his hair were on fire, and they had flopped around his head when he tripped over Tidus.
Tidus was at first more inclined sit and laugh at Seymour, having all kinds of conflicts with him, but his inner hero prevailed, and he looked around frantically for some kind of way to extinguish the flame. This was not particularly effective, considering it was dark, and he began to lurch around blindly looking for the light switch (the girls were fond of randomly changing the layout of the room while they slept)
His hands, groping the walls, managed to find what felt like a telephone. He pulled desperately at it and put it against his ear.
"Hello, how may I help you?" said a microscopic, tinny voice from the other end. No, not tiny. Otherwise I would have just said "tiny" and not added microscopic.
"Seymour's on fire!" said Tidus irrationally.
"...Congratulations, sir. Please, this is a help hotline and tying up the phone is not appreciated. If you have an issue with health, monetary issues, or political incorrectness please call again at this number. Our hours are between 7 am and 12:30 on odd days of the month, 3 pm and 4 am on even days on leap years, 3 and 5 on others, and between Lamnas and Samhain we have periodic issues with attacking mythological figures--"
"No, his hair's literally on fire!"
"Please describe the fire."
"What?"
"Describe the fire."
"Why?" screamed Tidus.
"It's necessary to know the situation so that I can analyze it properly and advise you with help. Please, sir, I am a trained professional."
Tidus scanned the room wildly. "Uh.. well... he's lying on the floor, beating his hair and trying to make it go out but it's not going well because his hair is too rigid--"
"--I'm sorry, would you give me the address?"
"I don't know it!"
"I'm sorry, I cannot get a trained animal expert there in time to help your rabbit. I must warn you, though, that you may be liable for charges of animal abuse--"
"The hair on his head!"
"Why would he put a burning rabbit on his head?"
"H-A-I-R!"
"Please describe the situation to me."
"Thats all there is to say, it's burning!"
"Describe the flame."
"It's red and orange and a bit of white at the center, there might be some blue too but that could be his hair! It's waving around his head and it's really hot!"
"Please hold."
"WHAT?"
"Please hold. I have to consult our databases."
Tidus waited a few seconds, tapping his foot. This was not satisfactory, so he switched instead to hopping from foot to foot. This too, was not adequate and he began to dance in little circles. This entire little ritual helped contribute to the appearance that he was waiting to use the restroom.
"I've found it."
Tidus pumped his fist in his distinctive gesture.
"Yes, that's definitely fire. Orangey red, warm, forming an aureole... Definitely fire."
Tidus was momentarily unable to breathe.
"What do I do about it?" he demanded as strongly as he could muster, once his capacity for body movement had returned.
"I'm sorry sir, this organization does not have the faculties to advise you on fire prevention and control. You can call our sister organization PSIMHI, but due to their slightly ambiguous abbreviation they have been shut down and are currently unreachable. You can find their building--"
Tidus hung up.
"Seymour, it looks like you're gonna die," he told the writhing figure, now past his panic with some stranage, bemused smile on his face.
He supposed this should be a good thing. After all, he had killed Seymour multiple times before--
"Oh, dammit," he said, and beat the fire out with his shirt.
Now that his practically useless shirt was rendered even more useless by virtue of being scorched into ashes, Tidus found himself, unsurprisingly, shirtless.
Seymour, the ungrateful wretch, stood up with the full dignity of a Guado leader. Somehow, he managed to retain it despite having five seconds earlier been crashing around the room and writhing on the ground beating his own head. He thanked Tidus politely and briefly before returning to his bunk bed.
Tidus, grumbling to himself, laid down and went back to sleep.
He woke up five minutes later, because there were two pairs of eyes staring intently into his. He screamed, and flailed around a bit, and completely failed to be effective.
"For God's sake," said Crystal, "put on a shirt."
"Yeah, Tidus," said Talasin, "there are ladies in the room."
-end-
How did Seymour's hair catch on fire? I don't know. Make up your own reason.