The water ripples and churns. A series of ficlets. 49 - Shit.
21 September 2006
X/A – attack of the fluff
Ares was having a good day. The army currently involved with his latest bicker with Athena had tried the old cow carcasses trick, and Miss Prissy Golden Underwear had gotten caught with a good spray of exploded cow and stomped off in a huff; Hephaestus had a whole slew of new weaponry to show off; and one of the faceless priestesses had told him that Xena was waiting for him in the great hall.
He walked—damn, he was spending far too much time with mortals—into the room to find Xena sprawled in his throne, apparently dozing off. He grinned, eyes trailing up long legs hanging haphazardly over one of the arms, past a scrap of colour sitting on her lap, up—
"I found this in the room down at the end of the hallway," Xena said, her eyes still closed.
"The way the joints move is very impressive, and the stitching and detail of the clothing is incredibly precise."
"You made them?"
"Passes the time."
"The couple of Hercules ones… I didn't know that that was physically possible."
Ares shrugged, effectively radiating the assertion that it might be possible if he could experiment with the real thing.
She turned to look at him, eyes crinkled in a smile. "So that's why you kept trying to dress me up," she teased.
"You like them?"
"They're beautiful. I don't see why they all have to look like me, though."
He shrugged again. "I carve them when I think about you."