[Wild Roses] Alternate Earths
Title: he spread pitch on the stairs . . .
'Verse/characters: Alternate Earths; Yasha, Aodh
Prompt: billradish: "Yasha, prudence"
Word Count: 270
Notes: So the veggie, when I asked for a spark, handed me Aodh singing something from Into the Woods. Ain't terribly long.
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When he got in, the kitchen was singing about sticky palace steps in the slightly sharp high tenor Aodh used when he figured no one was listening.
When people were listening the pitch trued at the very least; Yasha was still wondering if the Soprano Incident had been the after-effects of drinking fermented mare's milk in the meadhall.
"And whichever you pick, do it quick, 'cause you're starting to stick to the steps of the palace," the kitchen admonished, and Yasha couldn't swallow the laughter anymore.
The kitchen promptly went soprano, not quite but very nearly up to Screen's voice when she'd had just a little more coffee than she was comfortable metabolising, and Yasha strongly considered fleeing the scene.
Before he could, though--the door was barely more than quarter-formed, edges wavering like the air over hot pavement--the kitchen remarked "Which is not to decide," and stopped singing.
"Hey, kid," Aodh caroled in his own voice, and Yasha gave up, let the door collapse and walked into the kitchen, flip-flops slapping against the floor's boards.
"Mexican hot chocolate?" he guessed aloud, and Aodh coughed a laugh before shaking his head. The fox's hair was pale, today, short and spiked out like thistle-fluff, which implied he'd been wandering places closer to home than the Olfridulfr.
"Musical theatre," Aodh told him cheerfully, and it took a half-click to figure out what he was answering.
"Do I want to know?"
Aodh grinned, canines flattened out as far as Yasha'd ever seen them, just a flash of white human teeth in a smile. "Ask me nice and I'll tell you which theatre and show."
'Verse/characters: Alternate Earths; Yasha, Aodh
Prompt: billradish: "Yasha, prudence"
Word Count: 270
Notes: So the veggie, when I asked for a spark, handed me Aodh singing something from Into the Woods. Ain't terribly long.
---------
When he got in, the kitchen was singing about sticky palace steps in the slightly sharp high tenor Aodh used when he figured no one was listening.
When people were listening the pitch trued at the very least; Yasha was still wondering if the Soprano Incident had been the after-effects of drinking fermented mare's milk in the meadhall.
"And whichever you pick, do it quick, 'cause you're starting to stick to the steps of the palace," the kitchen admonished, and Yasha couldn't swallow the laughter anymore.
The kitchen promptly went soprano, not quite but very nearly up to Screen's voice when she'd had just a little more coffee than she was comfortable metabolising, and Yasha strongly considered fleeing the scene.
Before he could, though--the door was barely more than quarter-formed, edges wavering like the air over hot pavement--the kitchen remarked "Which is not to decide," and stopped singing.
"Hey, kid," Aodh caroled in his own voice, and Yasha gave up, let the door collapse and walked into the kitchen, flip-flops slapping against the floor's boards.
"Mexican hot chocolate?" he guessed aloud, and Aodh coughed a laugh before shaking his head. The fox's hair was pale, today, short and spiked out like thistle-fluff, which implied he'd been wandering places closer to home than the Olfridulfr.
"Musical theatre," Aodh told him cheerfully, and it took a half-click to figure out what he was answering.
"Do I want to know?"
Aodh grinned, canines flattened out as far as Yasha'd ever seen them, just a flash of white human teeth in a smile. "Ask me nice and I'll tell you which theatre and show."