![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
I am not writing Peacemaker fic ...
... except occasionally, I guess. This was kicked off by a completely unrelated daemon AU in a different fandom that includes a very nationally appropriate daemon for one character, which made me think about how Chris-in-Peacemaker would obviously have a bald eagle daemon, and then I started considering what everyone else's would be - and wrote 500 words of fic.
Also posted on AO3: Animal House.
--
"You know, the least surprising thing about you, Chris," Leota said, "is that your daemon is a bald eagle."
"Of course she is. What else would she be? Objectively it's the best form for a daemon to settle in, which makes sense, because Eagly is the best daemon, objectively speaking of course."
"You know that wasn't meant to be a compliment, right? No offense," she said to Eagly. "It's aimed at him, not you."
As Chris was currently scratching Eagly's neck feathers, she didn't answer, half closing her eyes in bliss. Leota was pretty sure Eagly wasn't paying attention to the conversation at all. Before meeting Chris and Eagly, Leota hadn't realized it was possible for an eagle, especially a female eagle, to fit the definition of "himbo," but there was just no other word for it.
"I don't think a woman whose daemon is a raccoon can throw stones. Do we, Eagly?"
"Don't listen to him," Leota said to Ayinde, perched on her shoulder with his long ring tail hanging down her jacket. "Any fool can see you're a coatimundi. Even that fool."
"I never listen to him," Ayinde remarked and went back to preening his paws.
"Good choice."
Murn strode into the office, looking vaguely irritated with all of them, as usual -- and as usual, Leota found herself clocking possible hiding places on him where a daemon might be. They had a running office pool about Murn: it was obviously something very small, or else something incredibly stealthy, flying, or fast. (Chris insisted on "chameleon, because it could look like anything" in spite of having had it explained to him about twelve times that chameleons don't actually work like that.)
"I see everyone's ready for the briefing as usual," he said, casting a weary eye across the feet on chairs, snacks in hands, and the first-person shooter game Economos was not-so-subtly playing on his work computer, with his capuchin daemon perched on top of the monitor. "Where's Vigilante, is he even here? Anyone? Harcourt?"
Harcourt said, through a mouthful of snack crackers, "He's in the parking lot fitting that Doberman with a new costume." Her otter daemon was stretched out on her desk, taking up most of it.
"He knows everyone can still tell that's his daemon, right?" Murn said in exasperation.
Chris had stolen a handful of Harcourt's crackers and was feeding them to Eagly. "No one tell him. It'll hurt his feelings."
"I do truly believe I'm running a kindergarten," Murn groaned, while Leota squinted at him and tried to decide if it was possible for something small and insectile or reptilian to hide under the lapels of the jacket he was wearing. Someday, she thought, she would get to the bottom of that.
"Economos," Harcourt said, "get your monkey out of my Bugles."
"I have no control over what Chris does. Damn it, Emilia, you made me die."
"You know which monkey I mean. If that capuchin comes near my snacks one more time, I'm setting traps."
"A fucking kindergarten."
Also posted on AO3: Animal House.
--
"You know, the least surprising thing about you, Chris," Leota said, "is that your daemon is a bald eagle."
"Of course she is. What else would she be? Objectively it's the best form for a daemon to settle in, which makes sense, because Eagly is the best daemon, objectively speaking of course."
"You know that wasn't meant to be a compliment, right? No offense," she said to Eagly. "It's aimed at him, not you."
As Chris was currently scratching Eagly's neck feathers, she didn't answer, half closing her eyes in bliss. Leota was pretty sure Eagly wasn't paying attention to the conversation at all. Before meeting Chris and Eagly, Leota hadn't realized it was possible for an eagle, especially a female eagle, to fit the definition of "himbo," but there was just no other word for it.
"I don't think a woman whose daemon is a raccoon can throw stones. Do we, Eagly?"
"Don't listen to him," Leota said to Ayinde, perched on her shoulder with his long ring tail hanging down her jacket. "Any fool can see you're a coatimundi. Even that fool."
"I never listen to him," Ayinde remarked and went back to preening his paws.
"Good choice."
Murn strode into the office, looking vaguely irritated with all of them, as usual -- and as usual, Leota found herself clocking possible hiding places on him where a daemon might be. They had a running office pool about Murn: it was obviously something very small, or else something incredibly stealthy, flying, or fast. (Chris insisted on "chameleon, because it could look like anything" in spite of having had it explained to him about twelve times that chameleons don't actually work like that.)
"I see everyone's ready for the briefing as usual," he said, casting a weary eye across the feet on chairs, snacks in hands, and the first-person shooter game Economos was not-so-subtly playing on his work computer, with his capuchin daemon perched on top of the monitor. "Where's Vigilante, is he even here? Anyone? Harcourt?"
Harcourt said, through a mouthful of snack crackers, "He's in the parking lot fitting that Doberman with a new costume." Her otter daemon was stretched out on her desk, taking up most of it.
"He knows everyone can still tell that's his daemon, right?" Murn said in exasperation.
Chris had stolen a handful of Harcourt's crackers and was feeding them to Eagly. "No one tell him. It'll hurt his feelings."
"I do truly believe I'm running a kindergarten," Murn groaned, while Leota squinted at him and tried to decide if it was possible for something small and insectile or reptilian to hide under the lapels of the jacket he was wearing. Someday, she thought, she would get to the bottom of that.
"Economos," Harcourt said, "get your monkey out of my Bugles."
"I have no control over what Chris does. Damn it, Emilia, you made me die."
"You know which monkey I mean. If that capuchin comes near my snacks one more time, I'm setting traps."
"A fucking kindergarten."
no subject
<3 <3 <3
no subject
no subject
I've also just read the fic at the AO3 link, and oh my goodness, I squee! I could burble more coherent thoughts at you, but I might do so at the author's DW instead, if I get up the courage to bounce over there.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject