Happy 80th Birthday, Elvis!

[evil_koala_626]

Here's the thing about not!Scottish landscapes when the local calender rolls around to something approximating January: It gets ridiculously cold. Too cold for little blue genetically engineered engines of mayhem (at least without plenty of layers). And certainly much too cold for turtle ducks. One might argue that the turtle ducks were probably perfectly happy hibernating the winter away in the lake bank, but that's clearly only because as turtle ducks they didn't know what they were missing.

So, in summary, turtle ducks blanketing the couch. They peer myopically about their new surroundings, shaking off their winter torpor in the welcome heat. Seated in the midst of them is Stitch. He's uncharacteristically still for the moment, thoughtfully plucking out a tune on his ukulele. And the vampire costume? Well, like we said, layers are important. Really.

Comments

[buh_bye]

Death smiled at them.

"That is a nice tune, Stitch," he said.

[evil_koala_626]

Being addressed by name doesn't seem to phase Stitch. He blinks up at Death with open curiosity.

the turtle ducks on the other hand, seem to have suddenly decided that they need to be anywhere else. Unfortunately for them, it's a pretty steep drop to the floor. They compromise by all migrating along the couch as far away from this new arrival as they can get.

[buh_bye]

Death had a small box in his hand, it was just suddenly there, that he held out to Stitch. He also produced a bowl of birdseed for the turtle ducks that he placed on the couch near them.

[evil_koala_626]

Stitch has never seen Seven. It's for the best.

As such, no questions are asked about the offered box. It's snatched out of Death's grasp with eagerly grasping claws. The box is turned end over end and snuffled industriously before he pries the lid off, absently tossing it over the back of the couch.

[buh_bye]

The box is full of treats like chocolate and cookies.

Death laughed.

"Having a good day?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"It is not Halloween," X offers, as she lifts a few turtle ducks out of the way and sits down.

Some of them perch on her shoulders.

It is not terrible.

(Yet.)

[evil_koala_626]

" 's cold."

He may have to go get the pirate hat to keep his head warm at this rate. A half empty popcorn bowl is slid in her direction. It looks about as appetizing as Stitch's plates ever do.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Yes," X agrees, taking a handful of popcorn.

"You mind it?"

[evil_koala_626]

"Eema chee. Naga meega ika patooba."

So, y'know, it's not bad.

"Snow! Cocoa!"

A stray kernel is pried loose, inspected and flicked away.

[cutting_edgex23]

"Do not mix it with the popcorn."

Beat.

"I have not seen snow. For a while. When I am not here."

[evil_koala_626]

Stitch's ears prick forward, his eyes widening.

Now that's an idea. But he won't. Now.


"Emba-chua." They never get snow at home.

[cutting_edgex23]

"We could go to the mountains," X offers.

"Here."

Beat.

"To build things. With snow."

[evil_koala_626]

"Okay!"

They could!

Beaming widely, Stitch hits the floor boards in an enthusiastic pattering of feet towards the back door. After a moment he scrambles back, seizes the nearest turtle duck under its fore flippers and makes it a good ten feet before he stops. And blinks.

Hmmm...

[cutting_edgex23]

"We are not using them as noses. The turtleducks."

X's voice is firm.

"Or hats."

[evil_koala_626]

Stitch has the decency to look sheepish for a moment. Even though that only happened the once. Stitch had come out of the experience minus several patches of fur and with a new appreciation for the adhesive properties of house cats.

The alien shakes his head, seemingly having arrived at a decision and releases the reptavian on to the floor. Gentle shooing motions are made. It winds up trundling under the nearest table.

"Ah-chooga moopa! Maka maka!"

Snow, X! Snow!

[cutting_edgex23]

X thinks about things for a second, then flicks a glance between Stitch and the back door.

"I will race you."

This is said deliberately, like someone who is parroting words they heard someone else say.

Then she takes off.

[evil_koala_626]

There's a desperate clatter of claws behind her as Stitch drops to all fours. It is quickly followed by a hail of furiously jabbered Tantalog being hurled from somewhere around the backs of her calves and is mostly comprised of how much of a cheater she is. Having longer legs is cheating!

[cutting_edgex23]

X replies in Tantalog, as well.

It's easy when you're running!

Also Stitch could totally cheat, too, if he wanted. He's got more legs than she has!

[evil_koala_626]

He would NOT!


Okay, fine, if the sudden silence or the snowball currently whizzing towards her shoulder blades are any indication, maybe he would.

[cutting_edgex23]

X drops low, hitting the ground with her shoulder to let the snowball pass over her head.

Then she rolls back up onto her feet, still running.

Try harder, Stitch!

[evil_koala_626]

"Grrrr..."

Ears drawn back, eyes narrowed, Stitch snatches up more snow. He stares uphill, shapes the snowball, hauls back... shifts position and let's go.


He's a shortstop not a pitcher. Still. Nice top topspin on that one.

[cutting_edgex23]

It takes X in the small of the back, and she tumbles to the ground.

Unmoving.

[evil_koala_626]

Victory!

Stitch has seen her walk away from much worse. He'll be closing the distance, laughing his head off.

[cutting_edgex23]

When he gets close enough --





X will leap upon him like an angry hibernating bear awakened far too soon.

There is no roaring, however.

This time.

[evil_koala_626]

"EeeeeeeeeAAaAAAAaaaaAAAAH!"

Ack! Remorse! Remorse!

[cutting_edgex23]

Reverse victory!

X will stand triumphant.

In a second.

Or ten.

[evil_koala_626]

"Okay!"

That may be the squawk of concession. Possibly.

"Okay!"

[cutting_edgex23]

If only he had a collar into which X could stuff snow.

Oh, wait! The collar of his vampire cape should do well enough.

Poor strategy, Stitch.

(She may have been told that this behavior is customary.)

[evil_koala_626]

On one hand, snow is wet and cold. On the other, if X is crouching low enough to stuff snow in to his collar, she's probably low enough to take a half formed snowball to the face...

[cutting_edgex23]

She is willing to take this hit in pursuit of smothering Stitch in snow.

[evil_koala_626]

Laughing would be ill advised at a time like this. Or it would be. If it weren't totally worth it.

[cutting_edgex23]

Eat snow, Stitch!

So much snow!

[evil_koala_626]

"WAAARGRBLL!!"

Okay. Enough's enough.

Stitch flails backward on to his back, curling up, the better to prevent more snow from being stuffed into his collar. And rolls away.

And rolls. And rolls, a small blue sphere tumbling downhill.

[cutting_edgex23]

X will just wait here until he comes back.

It is not like building snow creatures alone is entertaining.

[evil_koala_626]

It won't be a long wait if she's not going to chase him. He reappears trailing a completely sodden cape, grinning from ear to ear.

[cutting_edgex23]

X does not look displeased, either.

[heatherandsteel]

Quentin's playing a video game when Stitch brings the turtle ducks in and then settles in, he pauses his game and offers the bag of chips, "Are they all from outside?"

Stitch is odd looking but Quentin's from a world where he knows someone with a pet walking rosebush.

[evil_koala_626]

The bag is happily accepted and promptly upended in to Stitch's gaping maw. Quentin may or may not want to duck the resulting spray of crumbs. What Stitch lacks in manners he makes up for in enthusiasm. At least the turtle ducks seem to appreciate it? Um.

"Ih. Sleeping."





Oh, right. You can have the chip bag back.

[heatherandsteel]

His eyes go wide at seeing the whole bag go away, that's impressive, "Okay. Do you want your own bag of chips?"

Since he's going to order more but not sharing.

[evil_koala_626]

The question is met with several moments of mute blinking. They are followed by a look. You just gave him one, dude.

"Naga."





Oh, right.

"heh-ha-Hiiiiiieeeeeeee."

[heatherandsteel]

The idea was to be generous not to lose his entire bag, "Yeah, hi to you too."

He looks around for a rat to order in good supplies.

[evil_koala_626]

Stitch peers in the same general direction. What, if anything, they're looking at may wind up being interesting!

[heatherandsteel]

None of the rats seem to be stopping and Quentin sighs, "Do you chase them?"

[evil_koala_626]

What?!

"Naga!"

Never!


...Except for that one time.

"Waitrats," Stitch explains, giving Quentin a look that clearly questions his intelligence. His eyes narrow is concentration. Recollection.

"s-Sssnails inna soup."

You don't mess with waitrats, dude.

[heatherandsteel]

He shrugs and finally one comes over and he orders some poutine and a bag of chips, "Snails can be good in the right time and place."

[2020sight]

. . . Is that a little blue alien playing Elvis on a uke?

Epimetheus is staring in utter rapture. He might be in love.

(Look at those ears! That nose! The opposable thumbs!)

The turtle ducks are pretty interesting, too, but cute blue non-humanoids playing rockabilly will win every time.

[evil_koala_626]

An ear swivels in Epimethius' direction. Its followed by two enormous eyes as the song dies out mid chord.

Stitch stares.


Blinks.


And then jabbers wildly before baring his teeth.