Shippingitp IV: Flattery Will Get You EVERYWHERE

[RabbitHoleLost]

Question:
does this only apply to romance?

Because (with luck) the next Definition drabble will involve Turtle and RHL as related in a way I won't say and a heck of a lot of venomous words and actions.
Just want to clear it now just in case.

Yes, it only applies to romance. Angry tension between the two sisters is expected, as we share most of our men

[Dirk Kris]

I'm hoping to write something for Whisper today, but I'm scared to touch it after everyone did such WONderful things with it. Eeeep!

[happyturtle]

I agree. We can be sisters or friends or enemies since we're all of the above in Acronymia. But no romance.

[Neko Toast]

*headdesk* Still haven't been able to think of some shenanigans and tomfoolery for Batman and company to get into.

[TwoBitWriter]

I'm hoping to write something for Whisper today, but I'm scared to touch it after everyone did such WONderful things with it. Eeeep!

You are part of the wonderful things that happen in this thread, Dirk!

I LOVE your work. It makes me feel self-conscious about my own...

[Cristo Meyers]

It makes me feel self-conscious about my own...

*smacks upside the head*

Hey! You don't let me get away with sayin' stuff like that so I'm sure as hell not gonna let you do it!

[Mordokai]

Yes, it only applies to romance. Angry tension between the two sisters is expected, as we share most of our men

Yeah, being shared by necromancer and a barbarian is a tough work, especially when the later rages. But I do it without complaining

[Cristo Meyers]

Yeah, being shared by necromancer and a barbarian is a tough work, especially when the later rages. But I do it without complaining

*splashes with ice-water*

Down boy...

[Korith]

Dear Shippers:

I have signed the consent form to be tossed about in your creative ship-fictions by the whims of your para-romantic something-or-other's.

Have fun.


Korith

[Mordokai]

*splashes with ice-water*

Down boy...

Don't make me go KPM on you...

@V you don't have a gun anymore!

[Reinholdt]

Yeah, being shared by necromancer and a barbarian is a tough work, especially when the later rages. But I do it without complaining

*shoots in leg as promised*

It's for your own good!

[Thufir]

@Korith: You fool. *Evil laughter*

I agree. We can be sisters or friends or enemies since we're all of the above in Acronymia. But no romance.

Hmm. Kinda tempted to try and rewrite my fic removing all traces of romance, mind-controlled or otherwise...
What if the other characters, using video cameras, microphones and some sort of video-editing software, attempted to make a video in which a series of unrelated images and sound clips taken out of context made it appear that romance occurred? Then, while they're working on it, you burst in, impale me, yell at them, etc, as in the original.

(Hmm, talk about shipping thread weirdness... here I am, trying so hard to find an acceptable context in which I can be impaled by an angry woman with a spork )

[Korith]

@Korith: You fool. *Evil laughter*

I don't break so easily. Though I might fight Ship for Ship if you go too crazy...

For now, though, BRING IT! I'm all for diving in full body, no matter if the water is cold.

[Deathslayer7]

He's not a Very Happy Drunk

starring Wolfbane, Mordokai, Nil

Spoiler

Show

Wolfbane entered the tavern carrying Lex-kat in his arms. The inkeeper paled at the sight. Wolfbane gave her some money and told her it was best that no one knew they were here. He winked at her, giving her a smile.

This seemed to just frighten the innkeeper all the more seeing his fangs. He turned to go upstairs to their room.

What have you done to her you traitor! a voice shouted from across the room.

Wolfbane swivled his head to see Mordokai standing upon one of the tables, sword in hand. He was swaying slightly. He tried to jump from table to table, and got about halfway there before falling to the ground, obviously drunk.

Wolfbane turned to the innkeeper. Can you take her up to our room please?

The innkeeper hesitated for a moment, then nodded, kindness taking over her heart as she accepted.

Handing Lex-kat over, Wolfbane turned back to face Mordokai who had gotten to his feet. The other people in the bar shrank down into their seats, obviously not wanting to get involved with the current situation.

Leave Lexxx-kat alone you traitor! You sshouldn't be touchiiing her with your filthyyy handss! Mordokai spewed, slurring some words.

Wolfbane stared coldly at the man. Go back to your corner and stay there Mordokai. This doesn't involve you.

What was that!? Mordokai said shouting. You're a filthy dog! I already knew that Wolfbane!

Wolfbane's hand tightened his grip on his sword, his anger rising.

Go home Mordokai. he said. I don't want to hurt you.

Mordokai stared at Wolfbane now. I'm going to save Lex-kat Wolfbane, and I WILL KILL YOU TO SAVE HER! he said, charging Wolfbane.

Wolfbane brought his sword up and blocked the blow. Mordokai's foot apperead in front of him and kicked him in the gut. He stumbled back. For being drunk, the man sure could fight.

Mordokai didn't relax though. He charged Wolfbane again and tackled him. Both men flew over the bar and into the kitchen. Bottles and glass could be heard breaking. The cooks in the kitchen jumped and screamed a little as the two men were rolling around on the ground, weapons discarded.

Mordokai managed to get on top for a moment and punched Wolfbane in the nose, drawing blood. Wolfbane snarled and pushed Mordokai off of him. He then jumped at Mordokai, his claws out and slashed his arm.

Mordokai returned the favor with another boot, this time to the face. Grabbing the nearest pot, Mordokai flung it at Wolfbane. Wolfbane blocked it with his arms only to see a boiling liquid fly at him. He howled in pain as the water burned part of his face and chest, effectively blinding him for the moment.

Mordokai grabbed his sword off the ground and ran towards Wolfbane, about to stab him.

A foot to the face caught him off guard though and he stumbled back. Looking upon the newest person, Mordokai dropped his sword. Nil stood there, panting and heaving, clutching his wound.

You're supposed to be dead. Mordokai whispered, horror on his face. YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE DEAD! YOU'RE DEAD! he kept on shouting.

Shut up Mordokai. Nil said, getting annoyed really fast.

Mordokai picked up his sword again. You can't be the real Nil! he shouted, Because the REAL Nil is dead! and he charged.

Nil smiled slightly. He had taught Mordoaki all his techniques, so he knew exactly how to counter him. Dodging the lunge, Nil grabbed the mans wrist and punched Mordokai in the face.

Mordokai looked blankly ahead for a moment before falling to the ground unconscious.

Nil went over to Wolfbane who was still writhing in pain. Are you okay? he asked.

Wolfbane slashed at him, and Nil jumped back quickly. He frowned.

Wolfbane its me Nil. Wolfabne! Nil shouted, and finally caught his attention.

Nil? Wolfbane said, quite confused. Where's Mordokai? he said, his voice frantic and turning around in circles.

It's okay friend. Calm down. Mordokai is not a problem. Come. I'll take you to the room.

With that, Nil put everyone to rest, including Mordokai, in his room, and then talked with the innkeeper. He thanked her for waking him up, and told her that they would pay for all the damages. And also that if she had a nice salve for burns, it would be appreciated.

She nodded and went to go get the items he required. Nil shook his head as he entered the room. He applied the salve to Wolfbane's face and chest. He then put a jug of water by Mordokai's sand before falling asleep against the wall besides Lex-kat.

His wound still bothered him.

[TwoBitWriter]

And now... I rushed this a bit for Dirk Kris, I hope its okay...

A Shipper's Carol

Part 3: Dirk Kris Fanboys and Fangirls unite!
or: How Cristo's Jerkishness Affects Everyone!

Starrring: Cristo Meyers, Reinholdt, Dirk Kris, CurlyKitGirl, Mordokai, Wolfbane, and Slayer Draco. Cameos by Helgraf, Thufir, and Ghost Warlock

Spoiler

Show

CHIME!

There was that damn Grandfather clock again. Seriously, Cristo should have gotten rid of it ages ago.

Again, there was laughter downstairs, followed by hissing and a flurry of scratching sounds. Curious, Cristo began to descend the stairs from his bedroom to the parlor below. The sight that he saw was maddening.

There was sofa stuffing floating in the air, like snow, and in the middle of the room was his priceless sofa, now completely torn to shreds. And standing over the destroyed sofa was a large cat, with a massive musket on his back.

“What the hell are you doing? That Sofa cost me fifty pounds!” Cristo cried, trying to collect bits of fluff out of the air.

The cat laughed loudly, then withdrew and blushed. Cristo was unsure of how a cat could blush, but this one managed to. “Sorry, I just needed a good scratch. Come in! Sit down, and know me better, man!”

“Sit down? I have nowhere to sit down now!” Cristo said.

“Oh yeah… well… we won’t be here for much longer. I’m Reinholdt, the Ghost of Christmas Present. My job, after RabbitHoleLost and Dragonrider, is to show you how your miserliness is affecting the people you know now,” Reinholdt said, suddenly a bit quiet and reserved.

“Now? But its three in the morning. Everyone will be asleep!”Cristo protested.

Reinholdt chuckled. “Well, the Ghosting Guild defines ‘Present’ as occurring within 24 hours of the past, so really, I will be showing you what’s been going on the last evening.” He held up his front right paw.

“Take my paw and we can get started, but please, don’t try to pet me, or else,” Reinholdt said, flicking out his claws for Cristo to see.

Cristo sighed, there was likely no getting around this anyhow. There were only two more spirits to go so he might as well get over it. He reached out and took hold of Reinholdt’s paw and his house dissolved around him.

They were standing on an unfamiliar street in the obviously poor part of town, with buildings shoved up against one another and dirty, poor people walking around. Cristo was glad he wasn’t actually there, because he found poor people to be so unpleasant. “Where are we, Reinholdt?”

Reinholdt motioned toward one of the meager homes on the street. “That is the home of your employee, Dirk Kris. He is home, with his wife, CurlyKitGirl, and their children Helgraf, Thufir, and Mini-Mordy.” Reinholdt led Cristo up to the front window of the meager home. Without another word he stepped through the wall inside. Cristo, balking for a moment, attempted to do the same. Amazingly the wall felt as if it were nothing and we was now exposed to the air of the Dirk Kris home.

Curly was busy preparing the Christmas Eve dinner, and Helgraf and Wolbane were chasing one another on the floor. Curly turned to the children. “Now, compose yourself for when your father gets home with Mini-Mordy.”

“Yes, mum,” Thufir, the oldest, said. He said “mum” because that’s what the British call their mothers, apparently. Helgraf merely nodded and sat in a chair, a dark and brooding expression on his face.

It wasn’t long before the front door burst open and in stepped Dirk Kris, holding Mini-Mordy on his shoulder. The young lad looked quite lame, and when Dirk set him down he limped around on a sword-shaped crutch. Occasionally he would lean against a wall or piece of flimsy furniture and swipe the air a few times, calling out “Sune, bless us!”

Curly walked over, smiling, and gave Dirk a hug and a brief kiss. “So, how was your walk?”

Dirk sighed and sat down, removing his scarf and thread-bare hat. “Mordy was quite the sight, he ambled alongside me so strongly. I only had to start carrying him when we were halfway home.”

Mini-Mordy nodded. “I was strong, mother! You would be proud of me.” Mordy said, followed by a few short pitiful coughs.

Cristo had watched the young boy with interest. He had never known about Dirk’s family and had, as company policy, forbidden the display of photos in the office.

“Reinholdt,” Cristo said. “That boy, Mini-Mordy. He seems unwell…”

Reinholdt nodded. “It’s the result of the non-existant health plan you provide your employees. The Kris family can’t afford to send him to the doctor. They have to make do with the voodoo priest down the street, but even the price of chickens has gone up this year.”

Cristo, appearing glum and feeling like a right bastard, nodded and returned to watching the scene before him unfold.

Curly had, apparently finished their dinner and had set the table. She at one end while Dirk took the other. To Dirk’s right sat Mini-Mordy, to his left was Helgraf. Thufir sat by Curly, because he was such a momma’s boy.

“My dear, what a lovely feast you have prepared for us tonight!” Dirk cried, spotting a whole quarter-goose, a saucer of potatoes, a huge pot of cabbage stew, and a gravy dish filled with sliced carrots.

“A feast?” Cristo asked. “But that is what I threw away after breakfast this morning!”

Reindholdt nodded. “Where do you think Curly got the dinner?”
“It is time for us to state what we are thankful for," Curly said to Dirk.

“Certainly, I would like to start with our benefactor, Mr. Cristo Meyers, the provider of the feast!” Dirk said.

Cristo was touched, he turned to Reinholdt. “My policies can’t be that bad if Dirk is still blessing me at his home!”

Before Reinholdt could reply, Curly retorted, “Provider of the feast indeed! That miser is the reason why we cannot fix that hole in the ceiling. That, humbugger is the reason that Mini-Mordy is still sick!”

Dirk nodded. “I admit that he has his flaws, but remember, he hired me over all the other applicants.”

“That’s only because you weren’t certified and he could get away with paying you less!”

Cristo was dumbfounded. Here was Dirk, defending him against his wife. The wall of bitter miserliness suddenly cracked, and a bit of heart, still beating, had been exposed.

“Mummy, Daddy, don’t fight. Sune will bless us, everyone!” Mini-Mordy interjected.

“Awww,” Dirk and Curly said simultaneously.

“We are done here,” Reinholdt said. Instantly the scene faded away and Cristo was outside a more middle-class home. He recognized it as his nephew’s home. But something else was on his mind.

“The boy, Mini-Mordy… he will be alright, right” Cristo asked.

Reinholdt sighed. “I cannot see too far into the future. But if nothing changes, then yes, the child will die.”

DA DUM DUM!!!!!

Those words struck Crito’s heart like a drum. It was he that was killing Mini-Mordy, all for the sake of increasing his quarterly earnings by a single percent.

“I’m such a bastard…” Cristo said, slowly.

Reinholdt grinned widely. “Yes! I win the pool!”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Cristo asked.

“Well, RabbitHoleLost, Dragonrider, and I had a bit of a pool going. We were betting on who would get you to start cracking first.”

“But… that’s…” Cristo started.

“Doesn’t matter! I won now, you can’t take it back. We are now at the home of your nephew. You know, the guy who took the time to visit Target in an attempt to bring some cheer to your miserable life.”

Cristo nodded, he had learned the drill, and he stepped through the front door.

In the parlor, Wolfbane and his wife were with four friends, playing simple little games, the kind that are considered excruciatingly lame now that we have Wii fit and Halo, but were a big hit back in those times. You know, parlor games.

“Okay now,” Wolfbane said. “I got a good one, try to guess who I am.”

“Alright, Wolfie,” Wolfbane’s wife, Slayer Draco said. “Let’s see if you can beat my Queen Victoria, which establishes the time period we live in.”

Wolfbane smiled at Slayer Draco. “Oh, I think I can, I think I can.”

He stepped to the middle of the room, smiling. Then he stooped over a bit. “Go ahead and ask now,” he said in his gruffest voice.

“Are you rich or poor?” Slayer Draco asked. She giggled a bit.

Wolfbane scowled, and barked. “Who said that! Ahh, you lass. Why yes, I’m quite rich. Not that it shows! And everyone still hates me anyways.”

“Who could he possibly be portraying?” Cristo asked Reinholdt.

The cat shrugged as they watched the scene unfold.

After a few more questions, Slayer Draco asked, “Do you like Christmas?”

“Bah, Helter-Skelter!” Wolfbane cried. The entire room disintegrated into laughter.

“I still don’t get it…” Cristo said.

“You are Cristo Meyers! Your uncle!” Slayer Draco cried.

“Right!” Wolfbane cried out. He started laughing too. “I really hate that man!”

“I still don’t see the resemblance… caught me by surprise…” Cristo said.

“Don’t you get it?!” Reinholdt yelled. “They hate your guts, they are making fun of you!”

“Well… Good old Dirk didn’t.” Cristo said.

“That’s because he’s too nice for his own good. He’s so nice that all his hard work means nothing because The Man keeps him down.”

Cristo blinked.

“Ahem… The Man is you! You stupid git!” Reinholdt said.

Cristo crossed his arms. “Fine, I will give him a raise… and I will start looking at Health Care packages… I know a few people at Red Shield…”

Reinholdt sighed. “You still don’t get it. I am gonna have to recommend you to GW.”

“Who is GW?” Cristo asked.

Reinholdt smiled. “He uh… let’s just say he isn’t as well-humored as RabbitHoleLost, Dragonrider, or myself… Well, its time for me to go now…” he said, changing the subject.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be getting older and dying or something?” Cristo asked.

“Pfft… Shows what you know! How inefficient do you think we are? Killing spirits after a single guilt-trip appointment?” Reinholdt said as he started fading away.

“Wait! Are you not going to take me home now?” Cristo cried.

Reinholdt didn’t answer, Cristo was soon all alone again.

“Well that’s great. I don’t even know where I am. It’s not like I ever visited Wolfbane…”

Suddenly, Cristo felt an icy grip on his shoulder. He turned to see a tall figure, wrapped in a black cloak.

Cristo paused, trembling. “Are you the next spirit? I would assume of Christmas Yet to Come, because I’m sensing a pattern here.”

The Spirit nodded grimly, then came a creaky voice. “I am Ghost Warlock…”

[RabbitHoleLost]

Artistica
Destro/RHL

Spoiler

Show

She frowned, her crimson lips upturned in displeasure as the white snow stuck, and, off in the distance, children's laughter echoed up to her, as they played.
Rabbit hated them for it; their youth, their joy. But, mostly, she hated that blasted snow, as cold and forsaken as she and all the others who resided in her home.
And the stone bench she sat on shifted under her again, adjusting for the extra weight that had placed itself there. Rabbit didn't have to look up; she knew who it would be. The lich had been making trips out of his basement quarters much more frequently as of recently, and, while it had first unnerved her, she had become used to him. Adapted to his presence.
As she had adapted to every change that had occurred over her long years..though much less than Destro himself.
"Rabbit, you're covered in snow." Amusement leaked into his voice, as he lifted a hand to wipe the inch or so that had collected on her shoulder. When had she allowed him to become so familiar?
"I hadn't realized I'd subjected myself to this damned weather for so long." Rabbit shook herself, freeing her body from the snow, to feel, suddenly, much lighter.
"You don't like the snow?" Again, interest saturated his voice, and she found herself slightly irritated.
"No, not even when I was fully alive. It was too cold for me then, and now it simply gets in the way. The less advanced animated ones freeze solid, I can't do a single thing with the garden, and it just looks ugly."
"Ah, but how pretty is the earth it covers? All the earth's blemishes, all the potholes and burned forests, blanketed in a perfect white. Its a bit like the cloth an artist throws over a work in progress. Snow is the sign of accomplishments to come." Silently, Rabbit frowned, watching the snow continue to fall before sighing.
"You're strange, Destro." Wiggling closer, she rested her head against his shoulder.
The snow had stopped, shrouding them in a few inches or so, before they moved again.

[TwoBitWriter]

Very sweet, RHL, very sweet!

whoever thought a lich could be so cuddly?

[Deathslayer7]

*grumbles about people posting fics immediately right after me*
*goes off to fix the damned x-mas lights which i was working on last night but still aren't working*

[happyturtle]

And now... I rushed this a bit for Dirk Kris, I hope its okay...

A Shipper's Carol

Part 3: Dirk Kris Fanboys and Fangirls unite!
or: How Cristo's Jerkishness Affects Everyone!

Starrring: Cristo Meyers, Reinholdt, Dirk Kris, CurlyKitGirl, Mordokai, Wolfbane, and Slayer Draco. Cameos by Helgraf, Thufir, and Ghost Warlock

Spoiler

Show

CHIME!

There was that damn Grandfather clock again. Seriously, Cristo should have gotten rid of it ages ago.

Again, there was laughter downstairs, followed by hissing and a flurry of scratching sounds. Curious, Cristo began to descend the stairs from his bedroom to the parlor below. The sight that he saw was maddening.

There was sofa stuffing floating in the air, like snow, and in the middle of the room was his priceless sofa, now completely torn to shreds. And standing over the destroyed sofa was a large cat, with a massive musket on his back.

“What the hell are you doing? That Sofa cost me fifty pounds!” Cristo cried, trying to collect bits of fluff out of the air.

The cat laughed loudly, then withdrew and blushed. Cristo was unsure of how a cat could blush, but this one managed to. “Sorry, I just needed a good scratch. Come in! Sit down, and know me better, man!”

“Sit down? I have nowhere to sit down now!” Cristo said.

“Oh yeah… well… we won’t be here for much longer. I’m Reinholdt, the Ghost of Christmas Present. My job, after RabbitHoleLost and Dragonrider, is to show you how your miserliness is affecting the people you know now,” Reinholdt said, suddenly a bit quiet and reserved.

“Now? But its three in the morning. Everyone will be asleep!”Cristo protested.

Reinholdt chuckled. “Well, the Ghosting Guild defines ‘Present’ as occurring within 24 hours of the past, so really, I will be showing you what’s been going on the last evening.” He held up his front right paw.

“Take my paw and we can get started, but please, don’t try to pet me, or else,” Reinholdt said, flicking out his claws for Cristo to see.

Cristo sighed, there was likely no getting around this anyhow. There were only two more spirits to go so he might as well get over it. He reached out and took hold of Reinholdt’s paw and his house dissolved around him.

They were standing on an unfamiliar street in the obviously poor part of town, with buildings shoved up against one another and dirty, poor people walking around. Cristo was glad he wasn’t actually there, because he found poor people to be so unpleasant. “Where are we, Reinholdt?”

Reinholdt motioned toward one of the meager homes on the street. “That is the home of your employee, Dirk Kris. He is home, with his wife, CurlyKitGirl, and their children Helgraf, Thufir, and Mini-Mordy.” Reinholdt led Cristo up to the front window of the meager home. Without another word he stepped through the wall inside. Cristo, balking for a moment, attempted to do the same. Amazingly the wall felt as if it were nothing and we was now exposed to the air of the Dirk Kris home.

Curly was busy preparing the Christmas Eve dinner, and Helgraf and Wolbane were chasing one another on the floor. Curly turned to the children. “Now, compose yourself for when your father gets home with Mini-Mordy.”

“Yes, mum,” Thufir, the oldest, said. He said “mum” because that’s what the British call their mothers, apparently. Helgraf merely nodded and sat in a chair, a dark and brooding expression on his face.

It wasn’t long before the front door burst open and in stepped Dirk Kris, holding Mini-Mordy on his shoulder. The young lad looked quite lame, and when Dirk set him down he limped around on a sword-shaped crutch. Occasionally he would lean against a wall or piece of flimsy furniture and swipe the air a few times, calling out “Sune, bless us!”

Curly walked over, smiling, and gave Dirk a hug and a brief kiss. “So, how was your walk?”

Dirk sighed and sat down, removing his scarf and thread-bare hat. “Mordy was quite the sight, he ambled alongside me so strongly. I only had to start carrying him when we were halfway home.”

Mini-Mordy nodded. “I was strong, mother! You would be proud of me.” Mordy said, followed by a few short pitiful coughs.

Cristo had watched the young boy with interest. He had never known about Dirk’s family and had, as company policy, forbidden the display of photos in the office.

“Reinholdt,” Cristo said. “That boy, Mini-Mordy. He seems unwell…”

Reinholdt nodded. “It’s the result of the non-existant health plan you provide your employees. The Kris family can’t afford to send him to the doctor. They have to make do with the voodoo priest down the street, but even the price of chickens has gone up this year.”

Cristo, appearing glum and feeling like a right bastard, nodded and returned to watching the scene before him unfold.

Curly had, apparently finished their dinner and had set the table. She at one end while Dirk took the other. To Dirk’s right sat Mini-Mordy, to his left was Helgraf. Thufir sat by Curly, because he was such a momma’s boy.

“My dear, what a lovely feast you have prepared for us tonight!” Dirk cried, spotting a whole quarter-goose, a saucer of potatoes, a huge pot of cabbage stew, and a gravy dish filled with sliced carrots.

“A feast?” Cristo asked. “But that is what I threw away after breakfast this morning!”

Reindholdt nodded. “Where do you think Curly got the dinner?”
“It is time for us to state what we are thankful for," Curly said to Dirk.

“Certainly, I would like to start with our benefactor, Mr. Cristo Meyers, the provider of the feast!” Dirk said.

Cristo was touched, he turned to Reinholdt. “My policies can’t be that bad if Dirk is still blessing me at his home!”

Before Reinholdt could reply, Curly retorted, “Provider of the feast indeed! That miser is the reason why we cannot fix that hole in the ceiling. That, humbugger is the reason that Mini-Mordy is still sick!”

Dirk nodded. “I admit that he has his flaws, but remember, he hired me over all the other applicants.”

“That’s only because you weren’t certified and he could get away with paying you less!”

Cristo was dumbfounded. Here was Dirk, defending him against his wife. The wall of bitter miserliness suddenly cracked, and a bit of heart, still beating, had been exposed.

“Mummy, Daddy, don’t fight. Sune will bless us, everyone!” Mini-Mordy interjected.

“Awww,” Dirk and Curly said simultaneously.

“We are done here,” Reinholdt said. Instantly the scene faded away and Cristo was outside a more middle-class home. He recognized it as his nephew’s home. But something else was on his mind.

“The boy, Mini-Mordy… he will be alright, right” Cristo asked.

Reinholdt sighed. “I cannot see too far into the future. But if nothing changes, then yes, the child will die.”

DA DUM DUM!!!!!

Those words struck Crito’s heart like a drum. It was he that was killing Mini-Mordy, all for the sake of increasing his quarterly earnings by a single percent.

“I’m such a bastard…” Cristo said, slowly.

Reinholdt grinned widely. “Yes! I win the pool!”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Cristo asked.

“Well, RabbitHoleLost, Dragonrider, and I had a bit of a pool going. We were betting on who would get you to start cracking first.”

“But… that’s…” Cristo started.

“Doesn’t matter! I won now, you can’t take it back. We are now at the home of your nephew. You know, the guy who took the time to visit Target in an attempt to bring some cheer to your miserable life.”

Cristo nodded, he had learned the drill, and he stepped through the front door.

In the parlor, Wolfbane and his wife were with four friends, playing simple little games, the kind that are considered excruciatingly lame now that we have Wii fit and Halo, but were a big hit back in those times. You know, parlor games.

“Okay now,” Wolfbane said. “I got a good one, try to guess who I am.”

“Alright, Wolfie,” Wolfbane’s wife, Slayer Draco said. “Let’s see if you can beat my Queen Victoria, which establishes the time period we live in.”

Wolfbane smiled at Slayer Draco. “Oh, I think I can, I think I can.”

He stepped to the middle of the room, smiling. Then he stooped over a bit. “Go ahead and ask now,” he said in his gruffest voice.

“Are you rich or poor?” Slayer Draco asked. She giggled a bit.

Wolfbane scowled, and barked. “Who said that! Ahh, you lass. Why yes, I’m quite rich. Not that it shows! And everyone still hates me anyways.”

“Who could he possibly be portraying?” Cristo asked Reinholdt.

The cat shrugged as they watched the scene unfold.

After a few more questions, Slayer Draco asked, “Do you like Christmas?”

“Bah, Helter-Skelter!” Wolfbane cried. The entire room disintegrated into laughter.

“I still don’t get it…” Cristo said.

“You are Cristo Meyers! Your uncle!” Slayer Draco cried.

“Right!” Wolfbane cried out. He started laughing too. “I really hate that man!”

“I still don’t see the resemblance… caught me by surprise…” Cristo said.

“Don’t you get it?!” Reinholdt yelled. “They hate your guts, they are making fun of you!”

“Well… Good old Dirk didn’t.” Cristo said.

“That’s because he’s too nice for his own good. He’s so nice that all his hard work means nothing because The Man keeps him down.”

Cristo blinked.

“Ahem… The Man is you! You stupid git!” Reinholdt said.

Cristo crossed his arms. “Fine, I will give him a raise… and I will start looking at Health Care packages… I know a few people at Red Shield…”

Reinholdt sighed. “You still don’t get it. I am gonna have to recommend you to GW.”

“Who is GW?” Cristo asked.

Reinholdt smiled. “He uh… let’s just say he isn’t as well-humored as RabbitHoleLost, Dragonrider, or myself… Well, its time for me to go now…” he said, changing the subject.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be getting older and dying or something?” Cristo asked.

“Pfft… Shows what you know! How inefficient do you think we are? Killing spirits after a single guilt-trip appointment?” Reinholdt said as he started fading away.

“Wait! Are you not going to take me home now?” Cristo cried.

Reinholdt didn’t answer, Cristo was soon all alone again.

“Well that’s great. I don’t even know where I am. It’s not like I ever visited Wolfbane…”

Suddenly, Cristo felt an icy grip on his shoulder. He turned to see a tall figure, wrapped in a black cloak.

Cristo paused, trembling. “Are you the next spirit? I would assume of Christmas Yet to Come, because I’m sensing a pattern here.”

The Spirit nodded grimly, then came a creaky voice. “I am Ghost Warlock…”

Wow, that Cristo... what a jerk.

[Cristo Meyers]

Wow, that Cristo... what a jerk.

*brandishes dagger menacingly*

Besides, that's totally not accurate to me...

...it'd take more than a sick child to get me to crack...

[Dirk Kris]

Whisper, Part Nine starring Mordokai/Brandelle/Happyturtle, RHL and GW mentioned

Spoiler

Show

Ghost Warlock and Happyturtle stormed out of the bar, leaving Brandelle shocked, trembling. The man had called her a "creature" with such contempt and disgust in his voice it had made her feel physically ill. A cold, heavy pit seemed to form in her stomach, and her last day, the brightest, most wonderful 24 hours she had ever known, seemed sucked into it, leaving a void in her heart.

Mordokai went to the door and watched until the pair disappeared down the street. I guess Turtle didn't change much, after all. He turned and saw Brandelle, shaking violently, her hands jittering nervously in her lap. He went to her side and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

Brandelle leaned against him wearily. "Mordokai, he...he called me a monster. He seemed afraid - of me! What...why?" She looked up at him, grey eyes filling with tears as she was consumed by self-loathing. Finally, a tear spilled down her cheek, and she bowed her head to weep more privately.

Mordokai sighed, unsure what to say. He didn't know what had set Ghost Warlock off like that - but he intended to find out. He glanced towards the door with malice in his eyes. Saving my life is all fine and good, but he just can't treat people this way. It seems the Ghost needs a lesson. Making a silent vow to Sune that he would one day teach it, he turned his face and buried it in Brandelle's short locks. He breathed deeply, smelling her, a smile forming on his lips. He kissed her head and pulled away, taking her shoulders gently in his hands. He knew how to make her stop worrying. "So, he did ask us a question before he seemed to lose his mind. And I was wondering what your answer was." Brandelle blinked, unsure what he meant. Mordokai smiled. "Something about the nature of our relationship?"

Brandelle swallowed hard, her eyes locked onto the handsome paladin's face. "You...you saved me. So I suppose I belong to you?" Seeing Mordokai frown slightly, she remembered what he told her in the room back at the inn. "Well then, I'm...in your debt?"

Mordokai chuckled. "Child, you owe me nothing. You are free to stay with me or leave as you wish. I will protect you as long as you will let me."

Brandelle bit her lip, then looked up, hopeful. "I...hate to sound silly. But don't you feel like there's something missing? Something we haven't seen yet?" Mordokai raised an eyebrow. "I mean, we were in each other's dreams. And it seemed, it felt like we had something. Something more than friendship. And I..." She took a deep breath. "Well, you certainly are handsome. And I deeply admire you. And I...I just don't know what..."

Mordokai searched the girl's face with his eyes. He tilted her chin up. He thought of something, that spark, that tingle he felt for the most scant of moments when their lips met. "In the room, you kissed me. Before you knew I was real. You kissed a man in your dreams, almost." Brandelle nodded. "Maybe you should try again. Without forcing it, in full control of your faculties." Brandelle gave a shiver, but made no move. Mordokai leaned a little closer to her. "Lady, if I may?" Brandelle nodded slowly.

Mordokai closed his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met, she pulled away a little. Just as he opened his eyes to ask her why, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, a touch of desperation behind her lips. A jolt went through the paladin, and something came over him. A sort of haze came over his eyes as he returned the kiss, opening his mouth to taste her.

A low rumbling cough sounded nearby. Mordokai, gasping for breath, pulled away and looked to the sound. The tavern master stood there, looking none too pleased with the goings-on. "We ain't got rooms fer rent here. So I suggest ye be leavin' 'les ya plan to be puttin' on a show fer me customers." Brandelle smoothed her hair, her cheeks a flaming pink, her breath coming in short, breathless pants.

Mordokai stood and bowed to the man, then pulled out a few coins for the drinks the four had had. "My apologies, sir. We'll just be...going now." He reached blindly for Brandelle's hand and took it, tugging her towards the door. He headed for the vendors' district, an idea forming in his mind.

Brandelle followed, her head swimming, all memory of that dreadful Ghost Warlock driven from her mind. She floated along in ecstasy, the taste of Mordokai's kiss still on her lips. "So," she heard herself say, "what's the story with those two girls?"

Mordokai smiled. If the rate his heart was beating was any clue, then Brandelle definitely had a right to know. "Well, it all started with an ice cream cone..."

EDIT: CRAPPIT! Why'd have to post, like, fourth, after all those great fics!
TwoBi - you iz awesomesauce. ANd I would totally double-dip.
Rabbit - d'awwwwwww.
Deathy - if I ever get a spot, I will be SO honored - I love your work.

[TwoBitWriter]

Whisper, Part Nine starring Mordokai/Brandelle/Happyturtle, RHL and GW mentioned

Spoiler

Show

*Snip*

EDIT: CRAPPIT! Why'd have to post, like, fourth, after all those great fics!
TwoBi - you iz awesomesauce. ANd I would totally double-dip.
Rabbit - d'awwwwwww.
Deathy - if I ever get a spot, I will be SO honored - I love your work.

I very much approve! I love where this is going. Seeing Mordy and Brandi together makes me so happy.

And that kiss almost made me Squee like a fangirl!

*Is a total Dirk Kris Fanboy*

On that note... if fangirls Squee... what do fanboys do?

[Neko Toast]

And now... I rushed this a bit for Dirk Kris, I hope its okay...

A Shipper's Carol

Part 3: Dirk Kris Fanboys and Fangirls unite!
or: How Cristo's Jerkishness Affects Everyone!

Starrring: Cristo Meyers, Reinholdt, Dirk Kris, CurlyKitGirl, Mordokai, Wolfbane, and Slayer Draco. Cameos by Helgraf, Thufir, and Ghost Warlock

Spoiler

Show

CHIME!

There was that damn Grandfather clock again. Seriously, Cristo should have gotten rid of it ages ago.

Again, there was laughter downstairs, followed by hissing and a flurry of scratching sounds. Curious, Cristo began to descend the stairs from his bedroom to the parlor below. The sight that he saw was maddening.

There was sofa stuffing floating in the air, like snow, and in the middle of the room was his priceless sofa, now completely torn to shreds. And standing over the destroyed sofa was a large cat, with a massive musket on his back.

“What the hell are you doing? That Sofa cost me fifty pounds!” Cristo cried, trying to collect bits of fluff out of the air.

The cat laughed loudly, then withdrew and blushed. Cristo was unsure of how a cat could blush, but this one managed to. “Sorry, I just needed a good scratch. Come in! Sit down, and know me better, man!”

“Sit down? I have nowhere to sit down now!” Cristo said.

“Oh yeah… well… we won’t be here for much longer. I’m Reinholdt, the Ghost of Christmas Present. My job, after RabbitHoleLost and Dragonrider, is to show you how your miserliness is affecting the people you know now,” Reinholdt said, suddenly a bit quiet and reserved.

“Now? But its three in the morning. Everyone will be asleep!”Cristo protested.

Reinholdt chuckled. “Well, the Ghosting Guild defines ‘Present’ as occurring within 24 hours of the past, so really, I will be showing you what’s been going on the last evening.” He held up his front right paw.

“Take my paw and we can get started, but please, don’t try to pet me, or else,” Reinholdt said, flicking out his claws for Cristo to see.

Cristo sighed, there was likely no getting around this anyhow. There were only two more spirits to go so he might as well get over it. He reached out and took hold of Reinholdt’s paw and his house dissolved around him.

They were standing on an unfamiliar street in the obviously poor part of town, with buildings shoved up against one another and dirty, poor people walking around. Cristo was glad he wasn’t actually there, because he found poor people to be so unpleasant. “Where are we, Reinholdt?”

Reinholdt motioned toward one of the meager homes on the street. “That is the home of your employee, Dirk Kris. He is home, with his wife, CurlyKitGirl, and their children Helgraf, Thufir, and Mini-Mordy.” Reinholdt led Cristo up to the front window of the meager home. Without another word he stepped through the wall inside. Cristo, balking for a moment, attempted to do the same. Amazingly the wall felt as if it were nothing and we was now exposed to the air of the Dirk Kris home.

Curly was busy preparing the Christmas Eve dinner, and Helgraf and Wolbane were chasing one another on the floor. Curly turned to the children. “Now, compose yourself for when your father gets home with Mini-Mordy.”

“Yes, mum,” Thufir, the oldest, said. He said “mum” because that’s what the British call their mothers, apparently. Helgraf merely nodded and sat in a chair, a dark and brooding expression on his face.

It wasn’t long before the front door burst open and in stepped Dirk Kris, holding Mini-Mordy on his shoulder. The young lad looked quite lame, and when Dirk set him down he limped around on a sword-shaped crutch. Occasionally he would lean against a wall or piece of flimsy furniture and swipe the air a few times, calling out “Sune, bless us!”

Curly walked over, smiling, and gave Dirk a hug and a brief kiss. “So, how was your walk?”

Dirk sighed and sat down, removing his scarf and thread-bare hat. “Mordy was quite the sight, he ambled alongside me so strongly. I only had to start carrying him when we were halfway home.”

Mini-Mordy nodded. “I was strong, mother! You would be proud of me.” Mordy said, followed by a few short pitiful coughs.

Cristo had watched the young boy with interest. He had never known about Dirk’s family and had, as company policy, forbidden the display of photos in the office.

“Reinholdt,” Cristo said. “That boy, Mini-Mordy. He seems unwell…”

Reinholdt nodded. “It’s the result of the non-existant health plan you provide your employees. The Kris family can’t afford to send him to the doctor. They have to make do with the voodoo priest down the street, but even the price of chickens has gone up this year.”

Cristo, appearing glum and feeling like a right bastard, nodded and returned to watching the scene before him unfold.

Curly had, apparently finished their dinner and had set the table. She at one end while Dirk took the other. To Dirk’s right sat Mini-Mordy, to his left was Helgraf. Thufir sat by Curly, because he was such a momma’s boy.

“My dear, what a lovely feast you have prepared for us tonight!” Dirk cried, spotting a whole quarter-goose, a saucer of potatoes, a huge pot of cabbage stew, and a gravy dish filled with sliced carrots.

“A feast?” Cristo asked. “But that is what I threw away after breakfast this morning!”

Reindholdt nodded. “Where do you think Curly got the dinner?”
“It is time for us to state what we are thankful for," Curly said to Dirk.

“Certainly, I would like to start with our benefactor, Mr. Cristo Meyers, the provider of the feast!” Dirk said.

Cristo was touched, he turned to Reinholdt. “My policies can’t be that bad if Dirk is still blessing me at his home!”

Before Reinholdt could reply, Curly retorted, “Provider of the feast indeed! That miser is the reason why we cannot fix that hole in the ceiling. That, humbugger is the reason that Mini-Mordy is still sick!”

Dirk nodded. “I admit that he has his flaws, but remember, he hired me over all the other applicants.”

“That’s only because you weren’t certified and he could get away with paying you less!”

Cristo was dumbfounded. Here was Dirk, defending him against his wife. The wall of bitter miserliness suddenly cracked, and a bit of heart, still beating, had been exposed.

“Mummy, Daddy, don’t fight. Sune will bless us, everyone!” Mini-Mordy interjected.

“Awww,” Dirk and Curly said simultaneously.

“We are done here,” Reinholdt said. Instantly the scene faded away and Cristo was outside a more middle-class home. He recognized it as his nephew’s home. But something else was on his mind.

“The boy, Mini-Mordy… he will be alright, right” Cristo asked.

Reinholdt sighed. “I cannot see too far into the future. But if nothing changes, then yes, the child will die.”

DA DUM DUM!!!!!

Those words struck Crito’s heart like a drum. It was he that was killing Mini-Mordy, all for the sake of increasing his quarterly earnings by a single percent.

“I’m such a bastard…” Cristo said, slowly.

Reinholdt grinned widely. “Yes! I win the pool!”

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Cristo asked.

“Well, RabbitHoleLost, Dragonrider, and I had a bit of a pool going. We were betting on who would get you to start cracking first.”

“But… that’s…” Cristo started.

“Doesn’t matter! I won now, you can’t take it back. We are now at the home of your nephew. You know, the guy who took the time to visit Target in an attempt to bring some cheer to your miserable life.”

Cristo nodded, he had learned the drill, and he stepped through the front door.

In the parlor, Wolfbane and his wife were with four friends, playing simple little games, the kind that are considered excruciatingly lame now that we have Wii fit and Halo, but were a big hit back in those times. You know, parlor games.

“Okay now,” Wolfbane said. “I got a good one, try to guess who I am.”

“Alright, Wolfie,” Wolfbane’s wife, Slayer Draco said. “Let’s see if you can beat my Queen Victoria, which establishes the time period we live in.”

Wolfbane smiled at Slayer Draco. “Oh, I think I can, I think I can.”

He stepped to the middle of the room, smiling. Then he stooped over a bit. “Go ahead and ask now,” he said in his gruffest voice.

“Are you rich or poor?” Slayer Draco asked. She giggled a bit.

Wolfbane scowled, and barked. “Who said that! Ahh, you lass. Why yes, I’m quite rich. Not that it shows! And everyone still hates me anyways.”

“Who could he possibly be portraying?” Cristo asked Reinholdt.

The cat shrugged as they watched the scene unfold.

After a few more questions, Slayer Draco asked, “Do you like Christmas?”

“Bah, Helter-Skelter!” Wolfbane cried. The entire room disintegrated into laughter.

“I still don’t get it…” Cristo said.

“You are Cristo Meyers! Your uncle!” Slayer Draco cried.

“Right!” Wolfbane cried out. He started laughing too. “I really hate that man!”

“I still don’t see the resemblance… caught me by surprise…” Cristo said.

“Don’t you get it?!” Reinholdt yelled. “They hate your guts, they are making fun of you!”

“Well… Good old Dirk didn’t.” Cristo said.

“That’s because he’s too nice for his own good. He’s so nice that all his hard work means nothing because The Man keeps him down.”

Cristo blinked.

“Ahem… The Man is you! You stupid git!” Reinholdt said.

Cristo crossed his arms. “Fine, I will give him a raise… and I will start looking at Health Care packages… I know a few people at Red Shield…”

Reinholdt sighed. “You still don’t get it. I am gonna have to recommend you to GW.”

“Who is GW?” Cristo asked.

Reinholdt smiled. “He uh… let’s just say he isn’t as well-humored as RabbitHoleLost, Dragonrider, or myself… Well, its time for me to go now…” he said, changing the subject.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be getting older and dying or something?” Cristo asked.

“Pfft… Shows what you know! How inefficient do you think we are? Killing spirits after a single guilt-trip appointment?” Reinholdt said as he started fading away.

“Wait! Are you not going to take me home now?” Cristo cried.

Reinholdt didn’t answer, Cristo was soon all alone again.

“Well that’s great. I don’t even know where I am. It’s not like I ever visited Wolfbane…”

Suddenly, Cristo felt an icy grip on his shoulder. He turned to see a tall figure, wrapped in a black cloak.

Cristo paused, trembling. “Are you the next spirit? I would assume of Christmas Yet to Come, because I’m sensing a pattern here.”

The Spirit nodded grimly, then came a creaky voice. “I am Ghost Warlock…”

Yay! I'm in another Ship! I'm slowly taking over the whole thread. Muahahaha...*ahem* Anyway, that was a really good ship, Twobit. Keep up the good work!

*goes back to her movie*

[happyturtle]

They squee too. At least FF Fanboy does, and he could be regarded as the playground's official fanboy.

That's a great scene, Dirk Kris. Nice kiss.

[Dirk Kris]

Thankee, all.

And I think Raist's particular brand is Eeeeeeeeeeeeee...or something.

[RabbitHoleLost]

Thankee, all.

And I think Raist's particular brand is Eeeeeeeeeeeeee...or something.

Raist adapted it from me

[ghost_warlock]

On that note... if fangirls Squee... what do fanboys do?

This fanboy tries to squee, ruptures something in his throat, and ends with a horrible coughing fit and a slight case of laryngitis.

Comments
@deathslayer7: Mordy isn't a very nice drunk! I'll have to keep that in mind for later... And spectacular fight scene, btw.

@TwoBit: Once again, I must express how much I like this series more than the original/other adaptations. For me, Reinholdt really stole the show until Mini-Mordy showed up and blew everyone else out of the water. Dang, I think I like kiddo Mordy. Was anyone else left thinking about a Little Rascals-itp fic?

@RHL: Incredibly sweet. Yes, 'who ever thought a lich could be so cuddly?' I have a feeling Rabbit and Destro will be hanging out, having chats like this until the stars burn out...

@Dirk: That was a deliciously sugary kiss. I'm glad to see these two crazy kids stop beating about the bush and start with the smoochies! And I'm also quite pleased to see the realistic reactions to jerk-face GW being a jerk-face to Brandelle. Poor kid... But, oh well, we can't all be nice to the sweet, young thing. As for Mordy and his 'lesson,' bring it paladin-boy. You've got no idea who you're messing with...

*has had a long day, is very tired, heads to bed* Happy 'shippin' everyone!

[Dirk Kris]

I dub thee...
Queen of Fangirlyness!
...now can I be a princess prince?

EDIT: And while I like a good description as much as the next guy, Mordy DID warn me ahead of time about a racy RP partner he used to have. So, no, I will not be flirting with ban-mnation.

[Destro_Yersul]

I can see snow becoming a theme here, Rabbit. <3

I think I'm addicted to these things now. Everyone keeps putting out such great work...

[Cristo Meyers]

I can see snow becoming a theme here, Rabbit. <3

I think I'm addicted to these things now. Everyone keeps putting out such great work...

It don't take long, does it?

I remember I was saying the very first one I wrote was going to be the only one...