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bjfinn · 5 months

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THE HORNED ONE

An origin story for the leader of the Knights Who Say "Ni", for @foxden-frontier & @honeydewtreacle -- thanks for the headcanons!

And now for something completely different ...

Neil fell to his knees and pitched forward, stopping his fall with his hands, fighting for breath, as the curse ripped through his body, breaking bones, twisting muscles, snapping ligaments and tendons. A ragged scream escaped him -- it was barely a whisper. He collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, his clothing tattered ruins.

Tim the Enchanter laughed sadistically. "That'll teach you to steal my eggs!"

"I ... didn't ... know ..." Neil began.

"Ignorance is no defence!"

"No," Neil agreed. His voice was steadier now, the transformation almost complete. "No, it isn't." Slowly, he got to his feet. "But ... maybe you should keep your chickens in a bloody chicken coop -- instead of letting them run around the forest laying eggs anywhere they bloody WANT!!! "

Tim backed away in terror -- his spell had worked, but he hadn't planned on this. The being that stood before him was absolutely huge -- nearly twice the height of the man it had been.

"Please!" Tim cried. "Please don't hurt me!"

"I should do," came the reply. "After all, you hurt me. But I've never believed in violence -- I'm a pacifist." He looked down at the Enchanter. "I ... I just have one question."

"O-of course," Tim said, nodding frantically. "What is it? What do you desire to know? If it is within my power to answer your --"

"What am I?" the giant asked. "What did you turn me into? And why am I so bloody tall? "

"Ermm ... that's two questions, actually." The monster took a shaky step toward him, and Tim fell, landing on his arse, and hurriedly scuttled backwards. "Of .. of course -- of course, they're related questions. Intimately related, one might say. Really, it's a two-part question -- and a very good question. Quite a reasonable thing to ask, if I may say --"

Neil glowered at the sorcerer.

"Where was I?" Tim said. "Ah, yes -- your question! Well, erm ... you're ... a faun."

"A faun?" The giant looked at Tim, perplexed. "Why would you turn me into a faun? I mean, there are so many much worse things you could have made me -- you could have turned me into a ..." He thought for a brief moment, and then a smile lit up his face. "A chicken! You could have turned me into one of your chickens to replace the eggs I stole. That would make much more sense than turning me into a faun! "

Tim nodded, frowning. "You're right," he said. "Why didn't I think of that? Ah, well ... it's too late now, I suppose. You're a faun, and a faun you shall remain."

"Right," Neil said. "Well, fair enough -- but that doesn't answer the other question."

"The ... other question?"

"Why am I so tall?"

"Ah," Tim said. "Yes, well ... erm ... I suppose ... I suppose I may have been a little too, erm ... zealous. Put a tad too much oomph into the spell, so to speak. Went a bit overboard, I'm afraid ..." He coughed, embarrassed. "Sorry about that, old chap."

"Can you ... shrink me down? Make me normal sized?"

Tim shook his head. "Erm ... I'm afraid not," he replied. "Once a spell is complete, it -- it can't be altered. Sorry," he said again.

"Ah. All right -- I suppose there's nothing for it, then. I suppose I'll just ... go live in the forest, shall I? Be one with nature, as they say." He clapped his hands together. "Right. Well, toodle-oo! Pip-pip and cheerio and all that!"

And with that, the giant faun that had once been a human turned and headed into the forest.

Tim watched him go, shaking his head. "I really should learn to be more careful," he said to himself, and started back home.

*****

Neil took a deep breath and looked around himself. "I suppose the first thing to do would be to find someplace to live."

Fortunately, he already knew the forest quite well. Being a peasant farmer had never really worked out for him -- he couldn't manage to grow anything worth eating, and he wasn't able to get his chickens to lay enough eggs, nor his cow to give enough milk. His only recourse had been foraging (no hunting -- he was a vegetarian), and he'd come to know the forest like the back of his hand.

He looked at the backs of his hand, flexing the fingers. "Well, that's not true any more," he said. "Just look at all this hair!" He looked down at his body -- a thick mat of light brown fur covered his previously hairless chest and trailed down his belly to meet up with the fur below his waist. His legs, which had always been strong, now were like those of an elk, covered in the same light brown fur and ending in black cloven hooves.

All in all, he wasn't entirely displeased with the transformation -- better a faun than a chicken. Or a ... a worm, or something.

"Right," he said. "Shelter first, then food, then ... Oh, I don't know. Do fauns wear clothes? I suppose I should have something for the winter, at least. But there's time enough for that."

He continued through the forest, his gait becoming steadier with every step.

*****

"This looks promising," he said to himself. He'd discovered what looked like a small cave half-hidden among the roots of an enormous oak -- the question was would he be able to fit? If he were still human-sized, it wouldn't be a problem, but ...

After a bit of twisting, he managed to crawl into the cave. Well, actually ... he fell in, when one of the roots gave way under his weight. He landed on his back, the breath knocked out of him, looking up through the hole at the dappled sunlight.

The cave was bigger than he'd thought it would be -- quite roomy, in fact. Half a dozen humans could easily fit inside, so it was nice and cosy for a single giant faun. "Yes," he said, "I think this'll do nicely." He stood up and banged his ... what was on his head???

"I really must get a look at myself," he muttered.

He climbed out of the cave and started in the direction of a small pond he had often visited.

In short order he reached the pond. Nervously, he took a deep breath and leaned over to see his reflection.

His face hadn't changed, at least -- the scruffy beard, the brown eyes, the perfectly shaped nose ... he was still a handsome devil. He smiled -- his teeth were unchanged, as well. Suddenly he gasped in shock.

Growing out of the top of his head was a pair of magnificent antlers -- gently curved, and with two large branches each.

He hadn't expected that!

Still, the more he looked at them, the more he was all right with the idea. They were quite elegant, after all. Even ... distinguished, one might say.

*****

By the end of the week, he'd become accustomed to his new existence. He'd gotten used to walking on hooves instead of feet, he'd learned to turn his head to avoid getting his antlers caught in the branches of the trees ... There was only one thing that bothered him, though -- he'd begun to forget his own name.

"I know it starts with N," he muttered. "Norris? Nigel? Newton?" He sighed dejectedly. "Well, whatever it is, it's not me any more, is it? I suppose there's nothing for it but to give myself a new name." He thought long and hard about what sort of name a giant faun might have, but it was no use -- he couldn't think of anything.

"Hmm ... I'm a bit peckish," he said. Since embarking on his new life, he'd begun talking to himself quite a bit to stave off the loneliness. "Maybe just a nibble ...

"That's it! Nibble! " He frowned and shook his head. "No, that's the sort of name you'd give to a cute little bunny rabbit -- not a ten-foot-tall faun. But maybe ... Nib? " He rolled the name around his mouth for a bit. "Nib. Nib. Hello, my name is Nib -- nice to meet you. Nib's the name, and frolicking's the game."

He nodded slowly. "I think that'll do nicely."

*****

As the greens of summer gave way to the reds and golds of autumn, the weather grew cooler and it started becoming harder to find food. Nib knew he'd have to begin stocking up for the winter.

He gathered as much as he could -- acorns and hazelnuts and other such things, but he also began visiting the nearby farms in the middle of the night to steal a few potatoes, turnips or pumpkins, or a bag of wheat, oats or barley. He knew it was wrong, and if he were caught he'd likely be killed without so much as a "by your leave" -- he was a monster, after all, and as such not entitled to due process in a court of law -- but he had no choice in the matter. It was either steal or starve. Besides, he only took a little from each farm. And he made a promise to himself that he would compensate them as soon as he was able to do.

*****

It wasn't long before the people of the surrounding communities noticed that some of their vegetables and bags of grain were going missing in the night, of course, and they set up a night watch to try and catch the thief. But when the reports started coming in about a giant with antlers on its head, they became afraid.

"It be one of the old gods," they whispered. "What's his name -- the Horned One. We've been neglecting him."

And so they began setting out a portion of the harvest each evening for their mysterious visitor.

That first night, the sight of the table piled high with food surprised Nib. He drew closer -- they'd put up a sign that read "For the Horned One of the Forest".

Nib's eyes welled up, and the tears spilled down his cheeks. These people were willing to let him have a portion of their harvest simply out of the goodness of their hearts.

That's when Nib knew that everything would be all right.

#spamalot #spamalot broadway #spamalot fanfiction #the knights who say ni #the horned one #bjfinn writing

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kscribbs · 10 months

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Official Melusine Post

Has repressed much of her early childhood.

Extraordinarily loyal — would do literally anything for her loved ones, especially Lucy. Would die for Lucy. Would kill for Lucy. Would even befriend a swan for Lucy. Seb too. Feels it her responsibility to look after Seb, given that he’s somehow even more hopeless than she is.

Was estranged from her surrogate sisters and aunt for awhile, post *Marthinus’ death. The manner of her grieving was very self-destructive and they didn’t approach the issue well AT ALL, even though they all care about her a lot. Tintin smothered her/was very overbearing, Pressyne was overly critical, and Melior somewhat kept her distance, unsure of how to broach the subject. Seb was the only one who at least tried to understand/help, albeit in his own Sebastian Way.

Genuinely likes/cares about Jack (both frozen and thawed) but pretends not to, just for the lols. Jokes about murdering him every now and then, but would never actually do it, and in fact would lay down her life for him, too, if the need ever arose. In part because of how Lucy feels about him, and also because he a) saved her life once and she owes him a huge debt and b) finds him grudgingly entertaining.

Rather clever! But only when she can be bothered to take her brain out of whatever obscure location she left it in last, dust it off and put it in the vague vicinity of her head. Can deffo be a bit of a ditz at times. Depends on the day/circumstances/how much hinges on her actually using her mental faculties for once.

Agent of Chaos. I’m convinced that the day she formally meets Fiera is the day the universe implodes.

Also known by the epithets: Jenny Greenteeth, the Shellycoat, the river-hag Peg Power, the Bäckahäst-like Brag, the Lady of the Lake.

Unusual sense of style. Posh but also mismatched? Dark/watery tones. Varying eras, but has a particular fondness for Victorian and Edwardian styles (the full 73 year spectrum). Uses actual water in some instances (shawls/skirts).

Likes/is good with kids, but in a strict, no nonsense, Mary Poppins-esque manner, whereas Lucy’s much more lenient.

British/English heritage, but has lived all over Europe, Scandinavia and (more recently) North America. (Speaks Oxford/the Queen’s English).

Uses traditionally English vocab. E.g.: Chaps, spiffing, smashing, cheerio, pip-pip, blimey, jiggery-pockery, knackered (and insults) knob, wanker, tosser, prat, pillock, etc..

2826 years old, or there abouts.

Likely bumped into Jacquie and the Twins during the Great Fire of London and just didn’t realise it. She used her magic to douse the flames, to... little effect, clearly.

Ongoing vendetta against Central Park’s water fowl. Menaces them/takes them prisoner in her dungeon (she has a dungeon), but never actually harms them, as far as I’m aware.

Was married. To a human man, no less. For several years. Guy of Lusignan -- Poitevin French knight, Count of Poitou. Dude was deeply religious, and didn’t know about Mel being magical until after they were married/had had a son together. …He didn’t take it well.

Has incurred the wrath of the church on multiple occasions (but then, who hasn’t?)

Once used her powers to wring a guy of every drop of water in his body, thereby killing him. Her reasons were valid.

Is much more powerful/capable than she looks (see above).

Has a good heart, deep down.

Finds the whole “she popped out a million kids, sprouted wings and fucked off” part of her official lore hilarious and will not dispute the fact if/when asked about it.

Doesn’t really like Christmas? Finds it a bit too schmaltzy. But will celebrate for Lucy’s sake. Will do anything for Lucy’s sake. Have I mentioned that she loves Lucy? She loves Lucy. A lot.

Doesn’t really like Valentine’s Day either. (Sorry Dite! Not at all a reflection on Dite; she thinks Dite is cool/hot af, Just. Y'know. Bad memories).

Quite likes Halloween though.

Was cursed for awhile (vengeful ex gf. Succubus) to have tails in place of legs, but only on Saturdays. Lower legs still get a bit scaly when wet. Think H2O, Just Add Water. Cue her “Flop Era”, as she puts it, going down in The Annals. Cue Starbucks stealing her image and paying her absolutely ZERO (0) royalties! Twats.

“Loz” un-cursed her. How about that!?

LOVES the PotC movies. Laughs a little too hard at the part in the fourth(?) movie where everyone gets attacked by mermaids.

LOVES — and knows a lot of — sea shanties. As, I’m sure, does Jacquie!(?)

Listens to the Shipping Forecast for relaxation.

Sits in muddy puddles for relaxation.

Antagonises Jack for relaxation.

Has/rides a broomstick. Although it’s… really more of a mop, tbh. Jack approves.

Possesses The Sight/scrying powers. Hydromancy predominantly. Is preternaturally drawn to the ill-fated/can sense when someone is marked by Death. Has tried multiple times to remove said mark/s, with zero success. Is haunted by this. Blames herself, etc., etc..

Has vaguely defined banshee heritage(?) (see above). And also siren? Maybe? Sprite/nymph/witch/other(?). Even I’m not too sure. Has a very nice voice though, re: siren.

I refer to her as a witch, mainly, as a kind of all-inclusive, blanket term, even though her water sprite/nymph heritage is very prominent. I’m considering changing this to either “nymph” or “sorceress”.

Has watched the entirety of Downton Abbey a concerning number of times.

Can communicate with most fish/amphibians.

Reasonably good cook. When she can be bothered. And makes a MEAN cupperty.

If you pop over to the treehouse you’re getting tea. There is no way around this. Even if you despise the stuff.

Is legitimately addicted to McVities chocolate biscuits.

Claims to know Stephen Fry. Likely doesn’t.

Claims to have known Walter Scott. Likely did because he made reference to her in Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.

Deffo knew Paracelsus. Informed his impression of elementals/water spirits.

Hair always looks vaguely damp, even when glamoured. Hair when glamoured ranges from russet red to dark, inky black/blue. Resembles (is made of?) water in its natural state.

Always smells a bit like the seaside (in a pleasant way).

Very strong swimmer. Can hold her breath for LONG periods of time.

Can both summon water from particles in the air, and manipulate/bend existing water to her will.

Can turn into an Actual Puddle.

Uses terms of endearment like “darling”, “poppet” and “pigeon” a lot. More often with women than with men. Will also occasionally use more casual endearments like “mate” and “luv”.

Is not particularly touchy feely, for the most part. With the exception of Lucy! It took awhile for Lucy to get her to be open to hugs and the like. Luce never forced the issue, but over time Mel grew to rather enjoy platonic cuddles, etc..

May (emphasis on the "may") have a hug scene with Jack, at some point. Maybe. During a deeply vulnerable moment. Following which they will likely never speak of it again.

She and Lucy have an ongoing inside joke about being married, espesh while out in public (typically under the surname “Miller”, bc Lucy undoubtedly wears the pants in their relationship). Similarly, Mel sometimes refers to Lucy as her “house husband”, bc Lucy’s much better at DiY related stuff than she is. Not that we should be subscribing to gender roles or anything, but idk. They find it funny. I find it funny. Lucy’s the one who constructs the IKEA furniture; the one who puts up the Christmas tree. The one who fixes broken appliances. All while Mel kicks back with a cup of tea, a plate of biscuits and a Mills & Boon novel.

Has a car — a vintage Volkswagen Beetle, sea-foam green — but has forgotten where she left it last. It’s deffo around here somewhere. Driver’s license expired in 1944.

Cries a LOT. About pretty much anything. Wallows, etc.. Is very mel(ha)odramatic. Think that scene in the SpongeBob SquarePants movie.

And on that note^, possesses “Mermaid Magic” (moustaches and shit).

Bi? I think? Or pan, maybe? Manages her emotions just fine in front of male/masculine crushes. …Less so, in front of female/feminine ones.

Isn’t exactly agoraphobic, but dislikes leaving the house. Nowadays, anyway. Some days are better than others. Bit of a misanthrope, to boot.

Would not actually unfriend and/or murder you for going to Starbucks, but frequently jokes that she would. In that very wry way of hers. Mostly bc it’s fun to watch Lucy sneak around, hiding receipts and swearing up and down that she would NEVER buy from the corporation that stole her best friend’s image. Heck no! Perish the thought!

Can make it rain in small, localised areas. Does this sometimes when she spots people canoodling in the Park, just to mess with them. Has been known to enchant small, personalised rainclouds to follow people around (like Jacquie with the snow-cloud in Frostmas).

Begged Father Time for a pocket watch to turn back the clock/change time after Marthinus was killed. Begged Death (or whomever guards the Afterlife) to trade her life for his, also.

Substance abuse. Potions and alcohol and Lady knows what else. Given to drowning her sorrows, etc.. Lucy’s helped with this, though.

Worked out that Lucy had The Feels for Jack fairly early on; would make vague reference to the fact every now and then, garnering reactions ranging from indignation and denial to stoic silence, and, finally, weary acceptance, until it just became common knowledge between the two of them.

Is very intuitive/perceptive (see above).

Occasionally smokes a pipe? Lmao. It’s long and loopy and produces weird multicoloured bubbles that turn to smoke when they burst.

Extraordinarily talented ward caster.

Speaks many languages, most of them European. Particularly fluent in French.

Decent mimic. Can do a drop-dead impression of Maggie Smith.

Decent(ish) shot with a pistol.

Decent(ish) swordswoman? Nowhere near as good as Jacquie though.

Loves to play dress-up. Has multiple aliases. Most of them male.

Default method of teleportation is essentially one big water twister.

Deeply sarcastic/wry/deadpan sense of humour. Uses humour as a coping mechanism.

Is vaguely jealous of Palatyne’s talent for taming terrifying water beasts. There was a nixie in the tarn near their childhood home in the Lake District, and while it would allow Tintin (and sometimes Melior, on the rare occasion that she wasn’t lurking in a cave somewhere) to ride and play with it, it would snarl and gnash its teeth at Mel, and one time it even bit her. She’s never really gotten over the whole thing.

It took her until adulthood to fully trust nixies/nøkkens/anything vaguely water-equine, as a result, but the ones living in the Lake in Central are pretty chill.

She therefore spent much of her childhood either by herself or with Seb, who tended to remain indoors, reading, for the most part.

Still talks to Marthinus, in quiet moments. And also “Loz”.

Potioneering license is registered under one of her alias’ names.

The Willow is planted on Marthinus' grave. It is vaguely labyrinthine inside. And quite possibly sentient.

These days her character design is closer to how the wonderful lmels drew her than to my initial drawing/s! Namely the illo I use as my dp on Ao3. I LOVE it! (Unrelated to Mel but same goes for Ozzy).

Innate magic is turquoise.

I have yet to figure out how Styx, her familiar, came into being!

*The ‘h’ in Marthinus is silent.

#the wonderful SafyreSky asked me recently if I had any 'rules' for writing Mel and I decided to turn it into a fact sheet/post!#ty Dani! 🥰#some of these are subject to change I expect #ML #miller's law #melusine #ocs #updated design #long post

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sluttypatrickstar · 9 months

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i now know you're british

pip pip cheerio spiffing old chap

#answered

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ocultistt · 5 years

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looks like @joenouchi is online. guess that’s my cue to log off and go to sleep :)

#ooc.#cheerio pip pip #see ya in the morn old chaps

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storytell · 4 years

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TAG DUMP: AGENT WYOMING

knock knock ;; IC . WYOMING who’s there? ;; ASK . WYOMING i always get my man! ;; OPEN . WYOMING sorry old chap! ;; VISAGE . WYOMING if we’ve got a problem ... ;; HEADCANONS . WYOMING ... you’ve got a problem. ;; MUSINGS . WYOMING it’s a bit pip pip cheerio crumpet in here innit ;; CRACK . WYOMING say hello to mum for me ;; DASH COMMENTARY . WYOMING

#tag dump #knock knock ;; IC . WYOMING #who’s there? ;; ASK . WYOMING #i always get my man! ;; OPEN . WYOMING #sorry old chap! ;; VISAGE . WYOMING #if we’ve got a problem ... ;; HEADCANONS . WYOMING #... you’ve got a problem. ;; MUSINGS . WYOMING #it’s a bit pip pip cheerio crumpet in here innit ;; CRACK . WYOMING #say hello to mum for me ;; DASH COMMENTARY . WYOMING

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tenthgrove · 3 years

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Prosciutto you're British do you say pip pip cheerio and all that?

Prosciutto is about to open his mouth when Formaggio suddenly pushes him aside

Formaggio: “I GOT THE LIST!!! Okay, here are all the funny British things Pros says to us:

-‘Old chap’ (my cat)

-‘The wars’ (any mild illness Pesci gets)

-‘Bath’ (with the ar sound)

-And once, after spending a couple months in London: ‘Venice’

Yes, Ghiaccio was in the room.”

#ask la squadra #prosciutto

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heart-forge · 3 years

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Pip pip cheerio good chap, are you familiar with the Lantern Corps’ from comic books? If so what Corps would your characters be in vs. what Corps would the want to be in?

Howdy! I, unfortunately, do not know anything about Lantern Corps! I looked it up and there seems to be just enough lore that I wouldn't feel confident guessing, either 😅 let's talk superheroes anyway!

Siruud

Good guy turned bad, with hope of redemption. In a bad superhero show, he's a one off episode character that teaches the boring lead an important lesson about what they could become. In a good one, he's a season arc and reoccurring character who's never really good again but he's on the side of good so like...okay.

Tahira

The extremely practical heroine; principles are nice and all, but no moral code is iron clad. She's at the very least a source of comedic relief because after a long speech about ethics she shows up with the villain already caught and handled because she didn't need to monologue about her job before she did it.

Valerian

Supervillian, but a fan favourite. He starts flame wars because some people are defending him because his actions don't not serve a greater good and so what if a few buildings fall in the process? But on the other hand cool motive but—

Abeni

Magical girl. Western Superhero canon can't handle her, because she's about to do good, have an ethical crisis about it, and look like a four hundred dollar cupcake while she does it. Fans will wildly misinterpret her motives, oscillating wildly between her conflict with institutional crime and punishment and her undermining of authority to serve a greater good.

Gnarl

The anime villain that Abeni is fighting. Redeemed at the end of a long arc that is held up by fans as one of the best runs the series ever had.

Trigger

Washed up superhero that mentors a bright young punk, who slowly manages to chip away his cynicsm and make him believe in heroes again...after he makes them run errands for him. Fandom is split between people who see him strictly as a mentor figure and find it weird that people want to bone him, and people who want to bone him.

Mantis

The most effective supervillain you've ever met in your life, the opposite side to Tahira's coin. No, she will not tell you her evil plan, no you will not be lecturing her on inherent goodness. She had a twelve step plan and she is going to execute it and possibly you. She shot him in ze legs because his shield is ze size of a dinner plate and he'z an idiot.

Crave

Good old fashion, home grown superhero. By day he's a nice boy who helps people out and builds his communities, by night he punches guys dressed up as clowns and weird stuff like that. Most likely to win with the power of friendship, half shojo main character and half Clark Kent. Undergoes a harsh round of corporate woobification, but his original comics run is dark as hell.

#talkForge #bad ritual #manor hill #hybrid #siruud #tahira #gnarl #valerian #abeni #trigger #crave #mantis #this is the second time that I've used that image for gnarl

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sistervirtue · 2 years

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ello old chap what it to you that i read fanfic'shun abou sherlock and john fucking. sherlock and john having a pip pip cheerio

SCREAMMMS

#i just got fandom eldered rock look i just got fandom eldered #nyc knacks

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abbaswift · 4 years

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pip pip cheerio old chap

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dchan87 · 4 years

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Keep a stiff upper lip, old chap! Pip, pip, cheerio! British stereotypes and all that!

#demon slayer #toonami

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maedarakat · 7 years

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can u do a platonic drabble maybe with the twinks cheering up Hic after he loses to viggo?

Sure! That would be kind of cute. (I also assume you meant to type twins XD)

—-

“Come on, Hiccup, it’s not all that bad. We managed to free most of the dragons,” Astrid consoled him. Hiccup shrugged her off, still stinging from the loss and from Viggo’s taunting words.

At her frown, he softened. "I know we did some good out there, Astrid. But Viggo still got away with those Typhoomerang eggs, and he’ll just use them to lure back the parents we just spent all night freeing.”

“I can’t believe someone would be so evil,” Fishlegs was fuming. “Keeping their eggs hostage so they have to work for Viggo! It’s enough to make me wish I wasn’t human!”

“Who’d ever ride you if you were a dragon?” Snotlout jibed. “It’s pointless to fret about it anyway, Hiccup. Maybe you’ve given those dragons a chance to do their own coordinated attack on Viggo’s base to get their eggs back. You don’t know what a dragon will do just to keep their babies safe, but I found, and trust me - Viggo is probably gonna wish he’d never laid his grubby little hands on them.”

The experience with the Fireworm Queen had definitely given Snotlout some insight in the matter of eggs and their parents. Though Hiccup perked up a little, he was still clearly upset over the way the battle had turned out.

He didn’t have long to angst over it; a chicken was suddenly plopped into his lap and the Twins were pressed up against him on either side.

“Not to worry, young Hiccup,” Tuff said ridiculously (since he and Ruffnut were the youngest Vikings there). “We understand why you’re upset. It’s that Viggo - he can’t even win graciously, am I right, sis?”

“Yeah, it’s the way he talks to you. Like every sentence he says can have the phrase ‘you stupid idiot’ trailing after it. It’s really annoying. I wanna punch him in his smug face. What’s going on with villains today? What happened to the maniacal parting laughter, or the sinister smirking and malignant pose-striking? Now those were the days!” Ruff lamented.

Hiccup shook his head, though he had the tiniest smirk on his face.

Tuff nudged him in the ribs lightly. "Can you imagine if you talked to Viggo the way he does to you?” Tuffnut stood up and tried to stand like Viggo, perfect soldier posture and arms clasped behind his back.

“My dear Viggo, such pouting does not become you, old chap. I’m so glad you managed to secure a small but meaningful victory for yourself in our little game of cat and mouse, or wait, what was that quaint little board game you like so much. I’ve quite forgotten the name …”

Tuffnut’s voice wasn’t exactly like Viggo’s, but he got the tone so dead-on perfect that Hiccup and the others couldn’t help snickering.

“Oh, yes, Maces and Talons! It’s so refreshing to see older businessmen such as yourself taking the time to enjoy the little things, like board games, and polishing their board game pieces, and practicing lofty monologues alone in their tents . . . to their board game pieces -”

Now the rest of the gang was actually laughing, relaxing for the first time all day. Hiccup couldn’t find it in him to keep being upset, not while Tuff was going on like that. And not while Astrid was outright guffawing, leaning against his shoulder.

“What I’m trying to say, old chap, is keep a stiff upper lip no matter how badly I’ve just sunk your profits and do try to keep morale up among your men. Well, cheerio, pip pip, I’m off to go destroy another one of your precious convoys. I hope you can guess which one correctly this time, hmm? It gets so boring when you aren’t there to try and out-maneuver me.”

Hiccup held up his hands, ribs starting to hurt. “Okay, okay, enough,” he laughed. “You’ve more than helped, Tuff.”

His friend finally broke character and snickered, sitting back down beside Hiccup and both twins sandwiched him in a hug for good measure. Even Chicken gave him a series of fond clucks.

Hiccup just smiled, realizing how lucky he was to have his friends around. It would be so much harder to do this - to fight against someone like Viggo - without them.

#rtte #hiccup #tuffnut #httyd

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