All Bets are Off by Kartano (skeevy ancients challenge)
Title: All Bets are Off
Author: Kartano
Rating: PG-13 for suggested slash and hinted sex
Word Count: Near a page, when handwritten
Author's Note: Spoiler free, crack-y, probably not an original idea. I don't remember anything about Ancients--lots of awesome little holes in my plot, which, for that matter, barely exists. Inspired by some webcomic about the dead characters betting on who dies next.
Also, I had no idea what kind of money system the Ancients would've had and plucked out the most suitably ancient money system I could think of. Unbetaed--all errors are my own.
In a galaxy far, far away where a city with as many spires and towers as a many-petaled lotus bloomed from the deep blue seas of a nameless planet, there lived a room where various Ancients, who had reached the intelligence and mindset needed to Ascend above the material things of life, came together to discuss things of high importance, things so great as to require their mighty minds, armed with knowledge humanity could barely comprehend, to think about--war and peace, love and hate, the end of the universe, and--
"Twenty denarii on the guy with the crazy hair!"
The pen hovered in midair above the record book, held by a semi-translucent pink hand. "Which one?"
"Oh, silly, you know who I mean."
"Well, I would, but the last time you said 'that guy with the crazy hair,' you meant Woolsey and I am quite sure he doesn't have any."
The argument that resulted (unwritten here due to the author/translator's unfamiliarity with Ancient profanity) was cut short by a burst of chatter and then a sharp whisper. "Shush! It's starting!"
Faintly glowing pink forms crowded around a large screen, bits of energy overlapping and sending off vaguely sentient sparks that soon blinked out of existence. Their great minds focused on one thing and one thing only--the feed from a particular hidden camera in Atlantis--
Sheets rustled and shook, twisting into unorthodox forms and slipping off to reveal a tangle of arms and legs so intertwined as to be hard to tell which belonged to who, moving with a great quantity of passion and fervor; incomprehensible profanity mumbled into pillows; the values of soundproofed walls extolled to the world.
An appreciative silence formed around the assembled watchers, as if this was something they had been waiting for for quite a while, and was then broken by a triumphant remark. "See? I always knew they were a couple."
"Yeah, you and the rest of the fanfiction community," remarked a passing penguin, who was ignored and promptly disappeared back to the home of the characters who exist solely for delivering bad punchlines. (It had a lot of neighbors.)
The scene ended; money exchanged hands; the assembled forms began to disperse.
The recorder took up his cry once more.
"Taking bets on Atlantis's first foursome!"
Author: Kartano
Rating: PG-13 for suggested slash and hinted sex
Word Count: Near a page, when handwritten
Author's Note: Spoiler free, crack-y, probably not an original idea. I don't remember anything about Ancients--lots of awesome little holes in my plot, which, for that matter, barely exists. Inspired by some webcomic about the dead characters betting on who dies next.
Also, I had no idea what kind of money system the Ancients would've had and plucked out the most suitably ancient money system I could think of. Unbetaed--all errors are my own.
In a galaxy far, far away where a city with as many spires and towers as a many-petaled lotus bloomed from the deep blue seas of a nameless planet, there lived a room where various Ancients, who had reached the intelligence and mindset needed to Ascend above the material things of life, came together to discuss things of high importance, things so great as to require their mighty minds, armed with knowledge humanity could barely comprehend, to think about--war and peace, love and hate, the end of the universe, and--
"Twenty denarii on the guy with the crazy hair!"
The pen hovered in midair above the record book, held by a semi-translucent pink hand. "Which one?"
"Oh, silly, you know who I mean."
"Well, I would, but the last time you said 'that guy with the crazy hair,' you meant Woolsey and I am quite sure he doesn't have any."
The argument that resulted (unwritten here due to the author/translator's unfamiliarity with Ancient profanity) was cut short by a burst of chatter and then a sharp whisper. "Shush! It's starting!"
Faintly glowing pink forms crowded around a large screen, bits of energy overlapping and sending off vaguely sentient sparks that soon blinked out of existence. Their great minds focused on one thing and one thing only--the feed from a particular hidden camera in Atlantis--
Sheets rustled and shook, twisting into unorthodox forms and slipping off to reveal a tangle of arms and legs so intertwined as to be hard to tell which belonged to who, moving with a great quantity of passion and fervor; incomprehensible profanity mumbled into pillows; the values of soundproofed walls extolled to the world.
An appreciative silence formed around the assembled watchers, as if this was something they had been waiting for for quite a while, and was then broken by a triumphant remark. "See? I always knew they were a couple."
"Yeah, you and the rest of the fanfiction community," remarked a passing penguin, who was ignored and promptly disappeared back to the home of the characters who exist solely for delivering bad punchlines. (It had a lot of neighbors.)
The scene ended; money exchanged hands; the assembled forms began to disperse.
The recorder took up his cry once more.
"Taking bets on Atlantis's first foursome!"