@nebbychan You asked for a scene with Kift, Dan, and Kiya celebrating their first Christmas together and exchanging info on the various different ways they all celebrated the winter solstice -- well, here you go! With some bonus Winston causing a bit of mischief near the end. :p Enjoy!
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“...and then, once it’s in place, we decorate it with various little trinkets and candles! Like so!”
“I see! Interesting,” Dan commented, watching as Kift slid a candle holder onto one of the bigger, sturdier-looking branches of the little pine tree he’d just set up in their campsite. “We never decorated any trees for Yule back when I was alive – our thing was burning the biggest logs we could find to keep the darkness back. Tim and I once found an absolutely giant one for King Peregrine’s castle,” he added proudly. “Managed to keep it going for twelve whole days!”
“Quite the accomplishment!” Kift agreed, adding a glittering red bauble to another branch. “Some families do still burn Yule logs in honor of the season, though I don’t think anyone keeps them going that long anymore. But ever since the Queen’s family introduced the Christmas tree, they’ve been all the rage.” He looked back at Dan curiously. “I’ve read in the history books that you also had great feasts around that time of year?”
“Oh yeah – we went all out,” Dan told him, teeth curving upward in as much of a grin as he could manage these days. “Whole roast pigs, giant joints of beef, potatoes mashed and baked and fried – and of course loads of pumpkin tarts and pies! We ate until we almost burst!” He patted his armor above where his stomach used to be, bony fingers clinking against the metal. “Those were the good old days.”
Kift chuckled. “They certainly sound quite fun. And more filling than the Christmas geese I grew up on.” His gaze shifted toward Kiya, who was examining the tree with interest. “Did your home have any traditions for this time of year, Kiya? I know Egypt is a very different place to England or Gallowmere, but – surely there was some kind of celebration?”
“There was – a commemoration of the sun god, Ra, every winter solstice,” Kiya informed him with a little smile. “It wasn’t nearly as grand as the one we had on the summer solstice, of course, but everyone would bring offerings of flowers and fruits to his temples, and the priests would arrange elaborate dances in his honor. And we had our own feast too – dates, beers, sculpted bread...”
Dan tilted his head, blinking his single eye. “Sculpted what?”
“Bread! All the bakers in our kingdom had special molds that they could fill with dough, so the bread would bake in the shape of animals or people,” Kiya told him, grinning. “The most popular shape where I lived was a fish, though I often saw scarabs too. And one enterprising young woman made a cow once. Flavored with coriander seeds.” She sighed at the memory. “It was delicious.”
“I wish I could have tried it,” Kift said. “Like I said, the traditional Christmas meal here is goose – or turkey, if you can afford it. And a plum pudding for dessert – preferably soaked in brandy and set alight.”
Kiya raised an eyebrow. “Fire plays quite a strong role in your celebrations, doesn’t it? Yours too, Dan.”
Dan shrugged. “Winters are very cold and very dark around here.”
Kiya looked around at the gloomy forest and nodded, hugging herself. “Good point.”
“Eh, it’s not all about nearly settin’ the house ablaze,” Winston said, floating up to them with a cheeky look. “It’s also about hanging green stuff everywhere! Like ivy, and holly...” He held up a sprig of oval-leafed greenery bedecked with white berries, dangling it over Dan and Kiya’s heads. “And mistletoe!”
“Mistletoe?” Kiya repeated, looking up at the plant.
“Yeah – you put it in doorways, and when two people go under it, they gotta kiss,” Winston said, smirking as he wiggled his sprig.
“Winston – you don’t have to,” Kift hurried to say, shaking his head.
Dan hunched a little, the way his eye kept flicking around suggesting he’d be blushing if he had the ability. “I – uh – it’s not – I wouldn’t mind,” he stammered awkwardly in Kiya’s direction. “But – you know.” He waved at his mouth, or rather the lack of it. “Kinda – hard.”
Kiya hid a chuckle. “I do know.” Then she leaned in and quickly pecked his cheekbone, causing him to hunch down even harder as Winston pretended to gag playfully. “But I think we can make do.”
Heard you wanted a shitty MediEvil meme, wish granted!
YOOOOOO thank you for contributing to the garbage pile @nebbychan!! Ahaha, we need so much more of this!! Look at this magical dress-wearing goat fucker. What an idiot I love this so much look at his dumb face
@nebbychan -- when I asked you for ideas, you indicated you were looking for something involving my Valicer trio showing up somewhere in your "MediEvil II Resurrection" fic. And, as you may remember, when we started discussing which scenes they could appear in, I ended up latching onto them being a part of the "Freakshow" chapter. So that's what I went with! Please enjoy this AU scene where knife-thrower Alice, alchemist Smiler, and late-lingering guest Victor find themselves magically trapped in the midway, watching a mysterious skeletal knight battling his way through the foes around him..
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“W-what’s going on now?”
“Well, the Flapjack just ended up somersaulting straight into one of the Fiji mermaid tanks,” Smiler reported, peeking out from behind the stage they were all hiding behind. “Have to say, they’re taking being mauled like a champ. Still got the smiles on their faces.”
“Maybe they’re just glad their horrible existence is being ended,” Alice muttered, peeking out beside them and shuddering as she saw the mermaids tearing apart her unfortunate fellow performer. “I don’t know what terrible arts the circus used to make that poor fellow, but I never got the impression either half was genuinely happy to be like that.”
“Me either – and you know me, I know happy,” Smiler agreed, giving her a nod. “I think that skeletal knight agrees with us – he looks pretty disturbed by the whole thing. Which is impressive, given he’s got one eye and no actual face.”
“Skeletons can be surprisingly expressive, in my experience,” Victor said, venturing forward to take a look himself. “Though, ah, I-I’ll grant you that it’s impressive for this fellow in particular, given he has no lower jaw either...he’s definitely not one of the exhibits, right?” he added. “I know I didn’t see him when I was wandering around earlier...”
“If he was hired or acquired by the ringmaster, nobody told me,” Alice said. “And I’m reluctant to pop out and ask him – mostly because I’m not sure how he’d answer.”
“He seems capable of making sounds – I’d swear he screamed earlier,” Smiler told her.
“And in the Land of the Dead, there was a man, Paul, who was merely a head, and he could talk just fine,” Victor added, watching as the knight pulled his eye away from the remains of the Flapjack with a shudder. “The lack of a jaw might not matter as much as you – oh!”
“What – oh,” Alice said as she caught sight of the ginormous form of the Pincushion, looking rather worse for wear than she remembered, lumbering up to the startled knight as he tried to continue on. “Yes, that’s not good for our skeletal friend – the Pincushion not only can take a sword to the back, he knows how to use them too.”
Victor grimaced. “Poor man...I saw him earlier, back before – whatever happened,” he said, waving a hand to try and encompass all the weirdness they’d recently experienced. “I couldn’t understand how he could have so many swords sticking out of him and not, well, d-die.”
“Oh, that’s easy – he’s got a very high tolerance for pain; a lot of fat for the swords to get stuck in before they do any major damage to his internal organs; a probably-inherited tendency to heal quickly – and most of the ‘swords’ are just hilts stuck to him with glue,” Smiler told him with a grin. “This is a carnival – most of what we do here is trickery of some kind.”
“He does have some real swords, though,” Alice added, watching as the Pincushion drew one from his flesh. “And like I said, he knows how to use them. Though I guess the knight does have that cane of his – maybe he can shatter the Pincushion like he did those mermaids that came after him earlier.”
“Maybe – I’d love to know how that thing works,” Smiler said, grinning as the knight raised said cane high. “And it looks like we’re about to get a demonstration! All right, it looks like it gathers some sort of energy, and then when he slams it on the ground, it releases it all in one big shockwave – oooh! But whatever it is, it’s not enough to knock the Pincushion over! He must be just too heavy!”
“So I see – and the knight does not look keen on trying to swordfight with just a cane,” Alice agreed, biting her lip.
“It’s better than a fork,” Victor mumbled, grimacing as the mysterious knight began dueling the Pincushion, an expression of pure panic on his jawless skull. “Oh dear...and here’s me thinking I’d be happy to have my story about the dead being able to walk proven to the world at large...”
“To be fair, your particular set of dead didn’t seem keen on mauling everyone around them – just one particular murderer,” Alice said, frowning as the Pincushion forced the knight back, closer and closer to the Fiji mermaid tanks. “Whereas this fellow – well, I think he could use a little help.” Before either of her companions could object, she darted from their cover, pulling one of her knives from her belt and launching it at the Pincushion’s face.
Her aim, as always, was true – the blade landed right in the unfortunate zombie’s eye. He roared in pain – then screamed again as a bang! put a hole in his shoulder. Alice jerked her head around to see – “Professor Kift!”
“Alice!” Kift lowered his pistol. “I didn’t realize you were still here – I thought the other performers had mostly managed to escape! Is anyone else trapped?”
“Yes – it’s me, Smiler from the alchemy show, and a late-lingering guest, Victor,” Alice told him, gesturing over to her companions – Smiler gave Kift an enthusiastic wave, Victor a more half-hearted one. “We were sealed in when those weird gates suddenly sprung up, and – well, you’re the expert on magic. Do you have any idea what happened?”
“Simply put, an imp stole one of my spellbooks, and now we have a magical disaster on our hands,” Kift said – then beamed, gesturing at the skeletal knight. “Fortunately, we have the Hero of Gallowmere himself, Sir Daniel Fortesque, on hand to assist us!”
Splooosh! Alice turned just in time to see the Pincushion topple into a mermaid tank, the knight – Daniel – standing over him with the remains of one of those “test your strength” mallets in hand. He tossed the stick away and picked up the broadsword the zombie had dropped with an approving noise. “Well, he’s acquitting himself well enough against the current crop of monsters,” she allowed. “I don’t suppose the three of us could tail behind you and him for the time being?”
“I – it’s going to be dangerous,” Kift hedged. “And you are all civilians...”
“So are you,” Alice retorted with a frown. “And it’s not like we can’t take care of ourselves – I’m the best knife-thrower this carnival has ever seen; Smiler has all their alchemical equipment and can probably whip us up a bomb if we need one; and Victor – well, according to him he once dueled a man wielding a sword with a barbecue fork and got three hits on the fellow before being knocked down, so he can’t be utterly useless in a fight. And, frankly, if we’re going to be stuck in this miserable nightmare of a circus, I think it’s best that we stay near the people with the biggest weapons.”
Kift laughed at that. “All right – but it’s up to Sir Fortesque,” he said, getting Daniel’s attention. “He’s the hero, so he has final say.”
“Fair enough.” Alice turned and waved Smiler and Victor over. “Come on, you two! Looks like we’re having an adventure tonight!”
@nebbychan I know you gave me two prompts -- I ended up going with Lizzie, Emily, and Kiya having a bitch session about their respective exes/stalkers/unwanted husbands. Because that's always fun to do. XD Hope you like!
All The Shitty Dickheads
“. . .and then he stabbed me! Right here! Ruining my mother’s wedding dress!”
“Awful!” Kiya gasped, hands at her mouth. “The bastard!”
“Indeed – though, personally, I’d be rather more pissed at him for killing me over ruining the dress,” Lizzie admitted, leaning on the table.
“Oh, I’m plenty angry at him for that, I promise,” Emily said, waving her skeletal hand. “But the dress was one of a handful of things I had left of my mother, and he knew it. And it – it hurt to know that it meant so little to him – I meant so little to him – that he could put a blade through it and not feel a thing.” She sighed heavily, resting her chin on her hand. “Anyway, right after that, Eddie knocked me out, and the next thing I know, I’m in the Land of the Dead, lying under the old oak tree. With the dress a complete mess, my jewels and gold missing, and my skin blue. I probably spent my entire first morning here crying.”
“I don’t blame you,” Kiya said, laying a bandaged hand on Emily’s fleshed forearm. “What a horrible thing to happen to you. I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” Lizzie agreed. “You deserved so much better.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, shooting them both a small, pained smile. “I just – wish I’d been smarter. Listened to my father that one time.”
“No no, don’t go blaming yourself,” Lizzie said, holding up a hand. “You were young and in love, and Eddie obviously knew how to be charming when he wanted to be.” She sighed, the sound whistling down the column of bone that made up her neck. “Besides – even if you had spotted him for what he was, it might not have saved you. I knew Bumby was a rotter from the moment I met him, and it didn’t save me. Or my parents.”
Emily winced. “True. . .you deserved better too. I mean, you were younger than me when you died!”
“Only by about a year.”
“Still younger. And – well.” Emily worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “For all that Eddie destroyed my greatest childhood dream and ruined all my hopes for love Upstairs. . .at least he left me – innocent?”
Kiya’s head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?! Did that–”
“He did,” Lizzie cut in, not really wanting Kiya to finish her sentence. “Bumby – he was an undergraduate at the college where my father worked, and the minute he laid on me, he became obsessed. I found him a creep and rejected him at every turn, but he was never deterred for long. And when Papa finally threatened to get the police involved. . .he broke into my room and took what he wanted by force. And when I tried to fight him off, he choked me into silence – and into death.” She sighed again. “I still don’t know if he meant to kill me or not, but the end result was the same – me dead, rapidly followed by my parents when he set our house on fire to cover his tracks.”
Kiya shook her head. “It’s amazing just what scum men can be,” she muttered. “I’m so glad I was always able to outrun my wifely duties with my own husband.”
“Forced into an unwanted match?” Emily said sympathetically.
“You said it – I saved my kingdom from a terrible threat, and my reward was to become the latest wife of the pharaoh,” Kiya grumbled, rolling her eyes. “An old bastard who insisted that I had to be mummified along with him when he died.”
“Fuck,” was Lizzie’s opinion on that. “Why is it we seemed to deal entirely with horrible men when we were alive?”
“Snacks are here!”
Dan came out of the kitchen, a tray of goodies held proudly before him and Canny Tim at his side. “I’m really hoping you like the spider cookies,” Tim said as Dan placed the tray on the table. “I worked really hard on them.”
“I’m sure they’ll be lovely, Tim,” Kiya said, smiling.
“Your stuff is always delicious,” Emily agreed.
“It is,” Lizzie nodded, chuckling. “And hey, thanks for answering my question.”
Tim blinked. “Question?”
“About why we dealt entirely with horrible men in our lives. Turns out all the good ones were already dead.”
@nebbychan Dunno when you’ll see this as I know you’re away for the holiday, but here’s your prompt of Dan Fortesque, hero of Medievil, ending up in the Land of the Dead looking for his lost love Kiya and getting some help from the residents there! Hope you like!
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“Uh – excuse me! Pardon me! I’m – I’m really not sure where the hell I am, but would any of you be willing to offer a brave knight some help on a dangerous journey?”
Such a pronouncement was unusual in the Land of the Dead, especially in Burtonsville. Curious, the locals headed toward the source – a skeleton standing by old Bone Beauty, dressed in armor and wielding a sword with a rather nervous glint in his single blue eye. “Hey, what are you on about?” Bonejangles called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “What sort of place you goin’ that’s so dangerous?”
“The Egyptian afterlife!” the knight replied – though his voice was rather indistinct, due to his lacking a lower jaw. “Which I presume this is not? Sorry, I really don’t know where I am right now. . .”
“You’re in England!” Ethel provided. “The village of Burtonsville, to be exact. But why do you want to go to Egypt?”
“England? Okay, haven’t gone far then. . .” The knight struck a pose. “And because my lady fair has been kidnapped there!”
A curious and worried ripple went through the gathering crowd. “Kidnapped?” Ms. Plum repeated, tapping her hand with a spoon. “How?”
“I – well, that part I’m not sure about,” the knight admitted, expression turning sheepish. “Look, there has been a lot of weirdness lately – I just got dragged back to the living world to help quell some evil magician trying to take it over. For the second time, I might add,” he grumbled, running a hand over his skull. “Anyway, while I was up there, running around London, I met someone else who had been resurrected – an Egyptian princess mummy named Kiya.” He smiled warmly. “She’s – great, seriously. We really hit it off, and after we managed to save the world, I followed her into her tomb, hoping we could spend the afterlife together. But when I woke up back outside the Hall of Heroes – my afterlife – she was nowhere to be found.” His upper jaw somehow managed to flex into a scowl. “Took a while, but my friends and I eventually learned she’d ended up back in Egypt – with her old husband. The asshole Pharaoh she’d spent most of her living life running from, and who insisted she be killed to follow him as his favorite bride when she bit it. I think he must have done something to force her to return to him, so – kidnapping.”
Another ripple shot through the crowd, this time outraged. “Scandalous! No one should have to spend their whole afterlife tied to someone they don’t love!” Ethel declared, hands on her hips.
“Damn straight,” Bonejangles agreed. “This Pharaoh guy already sounds like a piece of work.”
“Someone who doesn’t know how to let go? Oh, most certainly.”
The crowd parted, allowing the speaker to step forward, eyes blazing. “I don’t know much about you, sir knight,” she continued, “but I am always ready to help a fellow lady escape an unwanted admirer. You’ve got my help on your quest.”
The rest of the crowd shouted affirmation and encouragement. “Thank you all!” the knight called, teeth curling in a grin. “Suppose I should introduce myself – Daniel Fortesque, hero of Gallowmere!”
The woman dropped a curtsy. “Lizzie Liddell, ripper-off of Bumby’s tonker. Now, how about you tell us more about this pharaoh. . .”
