Fingon thinks danger isn't dangerous! (skilled_hero) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-11-14 18:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, fingon, maedhros |
Who: Maedhros, Fingon
What: Gator land fun
When: This week
Where: Somewhere in Colorado
Rating: G for huggin' Gators? It's not bad, no, and no gators (or elves) were hurt in the making of this log.
Status: Complete!
What was one to do when they had odd dreams about being pointy-eared elves from sparkle land, where a whole lot of bloodshed and lights going out, happened?
Alligator wrestling, but of course! And that was why Fingon was standing like he was ready to conquer a mighty foe, in western Colorado, at an alligator farm where they let you get in and get a hands on experience. Seriously. And there’s no one to tell him no, this is a hugely bad idea because he brought Maedhros with him. And neglected to tell anyone other than Faye and Maeglin where they were going. Sorry, Turgon and Aredhel. Bring you back a t-shirt? WHOOPS.
They’d chastise after the fact, or, knowing his sister? Would think that was silly and ask if they had the gator stuffed and mounted by a taxidermist, since she was really really really into hunters and hunting. Fingon maintained that’s what photos were for, it was non-lethal, but he wasn’t about to shy away from...any gators that they might someday meet in the wilds, should they happen to be in...a swamp. Somewhere. Somehow.
THINGS.
THINGS. Lots of them. Maedhros wasn’t sure, really, what he and Fingon were doing here. He’d agreed, because at least a class in what to do would help on the occasion Fingon found himself trapped in alligator land, but really. this was...not the best idea ever.
On the other hand? It helped him NOT to think about the dream he hadn’t shared with anyone. His father had ordered all of the ships except the ones that he and his brothers were on to be burnt. Meaning everyone else, including Fingon, had been stranded. And he hadn’t been sure where the twins were in that dream either, and...
Yeah, Gators were a great idea to distance from that. And if not? They made good shoes and handbags. They could make leather or something if they learned to tame them, right? An that was what was happening if any of them thought up funny business.
So...
ALL THE THINGS. Also known as, ALL THE THINGS THAT MAKE US FORGET BAD DREAMS. Fingon remembered the whole kinslaying and the boats burning and trudging through what seemed like endless ice. It wasn’t a good way to wake up and - even if he somehow didn’t get any frostbite from the experience - it was the sort of cold that had him nuzzling in against Maedhros, when he woke up with a start.
That was why Fingon stood at the ready, waiting for Earl the gator man to find them, at Fingon’s request,“The biggest alligator you have.”
The thing was large enough. It pretty much looked like it could eat a gazelle in two snaps and a swallow. Nothing kinky about that, as it literally looked wide-mouthed and ready to do that.
“Okay,” explained Earl, sitting on the gator’s back, “not to get too fresh or nothin’, but one of you gets to slide on over here by me, and grab hold of the nose like so.”
This was probably one of their dumber ideas, since Fingon smiled brightly and said, “I’ll go first!”
In fact, he looked ready to just pounce it and give it a tickle test.
“Good idea.” Maedhros agreed, giving Earl an apologetic look. “He’s been REALLY looking forward to this.” He explained, amused at Fingon now, and forcing the memories back where they belonged. “I’m fine with learning by watching first and all.” He wasn’t afraid of handling the biggest gator they had or anything but he also didn’t want to fuck something up and end up injured.
That would just put a damper on the whole thing, as far as he was concerned. They might as well handle this by being smart about it, and not spilling their own blood, or really, anybody’s human or gator.
After all, there was something kind of awesome now that they were here, and he was...sort of getting into this. Sort of.
Oh, you two. You are so evading the issues. Even though that’s mostly Fingon’s fault, since he was making it a point not to think about crazy dreams regarding blood spilling, and making it a point to concentrate on adventure, instead. Because it was funner, more amusing, happier, nothing bad could EVER happen, and it got their minds off Incredibly Bad Things (tm).
In fact, Fingon was already entertaining the thought of extended deep sea diving (or swimming with sharks) and entering into the exciting world of rally car driving. And he’s thinking about that as he’s sitting with Earl on a gator’s back, grabbing hold of it and smiling like it’s christmas morning and he’s 6 years old and he just got everything he ever asked for...and then some!
Sure, he almost got a hand snapped at when he didn’t have a tight enough grip, but Fingon merely laughed it off and cheerfully announced, “I better say CHEESE while you take a picture, for our employees! And then it’s your turn, because this is FUN.”
Some people have an odd definition of the word ‘fun.’
It did kind of look fun, admittedly. Maedhros didn’t know if he was really up to it, or if he was just following Fingon’s lead, but that had never stopped him from doing anything before. The motorcycle incident came to mind. That had turned out okay, after all, now hadn’t it?
So he grinned and whipped out the camera, because, really, the whole thing was ridiculous, and Maedhros? Kind of loved that.
Fingon even flashed a goofy grin at the camera, and almost waved, if not for the fact that Earl made a noise like NOOOO to stop any such gesture before it even started.
“Ooops, ha ha, sorry about that. I’ve got him!” Fingon was saying, quite happily, while Maedhros snapped photos. Then he relinquished his hold on the alligator to the wrangler, and walked toward Maedhros with a bounce in his step. For Fingon, doing these sort of things was as easy as breathing or blinking. It took zero thought at all, and any trace of fear was miniscule. If it was even there, at all. “Your turn, meleth. It’s as simple as lounging on a lawn chair, sipping fruity drinks. It’s fun.”
And it will all be okay, or so Fingon made it seem like. Because tragic things only happened when they were asleep.
Somewhere in the background, for extra emphasis of ‘fun’...a squirrel chittered. Angrily.
“Looks interesting.” Was what Maedhros came up with, but no way was he chickening out. Besides, he wasn’t really scared so much as...he felt ridiculous about to go sit on an alligator and handle it. But he stepped over anyway to slide onto the alligator, after handing Fingon the camera. And then, well, he kind of forgot to be anything because he was sitting on a gator.
All rational thought and emotions sort of didn’t exist right now, because this was actually one of the coolest things he’d done in his life. So far? Kinda awesome.
It was so awesome! Fingon smiled broadly at his boyfriend and said “Say cheese!” before he snapped off photos, moving around like he was a professional photographer, and even getting some exciting sideways actions shots in. That way everyone at the nightclub and bar could see how much fun gator wrestling was, and they could close down things for a weekend and EVERYONE THEY KNEW COULD GO TRUDGING THROUGH A SWAMP. Because that now seemed like a great escape and extra fun times, and they’d know what to do if confronted by gators.
Of course, that would probably only be really fun for Fingon and Maedhros, but it helped. In it’s own small way, it helped that they could get the bad crap out of their heads, by doing...bad crap that could get someone maimed or killed.
It evens out in the end. Somehow.
Fingon was utterly conversational as he took even more photos, “After we buy t-shirts and shot glasses, should we find ourselves some noms?”
The squirrel ceased it’s chittering for a moment. Because it didn’t want to be someone’s lunch. It was about to chuck a nut at anyone who tried to assault it and/or eat it.
It did help a lot, really. Maedhros wasn’t thinking of much of anything at this point, and was, instead, grinning for the camera like an idiot. Because this was all normal, and rational behavior. And he’d probably actually LOVE taking everyone through a swamp. There was something about being a leader. or ringleader for this type of excursion that he found really, REALLY exciting.
And okay, the thought of some of their friends in a swamp was amusing. And if those people were having dreams, then they could use it too, he thought, but then considered Fingon’s question.
“Sounds good.” He agreed. and then paused. “Hey, that squirrel stopped swearing at us in its native tongue. Awesome. “
Fingon was in the middle of taking yet another photo, while being chatty, “I don’t think they have good sushi out here so we’ll...hey, the squirrel DID stop swearing at us!”
Now Earl is staring at them both oddly, because how the hell would they know a squirrel was cursing at anything? Hello?
A tense silence hung in the air, before Fingon pointed a finger skyward in a full on eureka sort of way. He’d obviously gotten that from his father. Rather than pointing at things like some of the Feanoreans did, the house of Fingolfin pointed skyward like HUZZAH A NEW NOVEL IDEA HAS OCCURRED TO ME!!1!
“We watched The Language of Animals special on TV,” Fingon explained, without eyedarting at all. How he managed that was a miracle. “Come, let us purchase muchly many t-shirts, for the gifting to employees and family, before we bore them to death with adventurous photographs!”
Mmkay.