Wishes or Treasure? (The Moogle Way) 5/?
Author: Danyella Skyler Silverfire (aka Bountyhunter_Danyella) & Kage Kashu (aka Lavender_Saiyajin)
Pairing(s): Smo/Ace eventually, others as they occur to me.
Warnings: It's a little fragmented, but that's about it so far.
Rating: So far? It's in the 'k' range. It might get higher as I go.
Summary: Smoker and Ace are turned into moogles.
Disclaimer: You'd know if I owned it. One Piece would get creepier, I'm sure, though less imaginative. So, you guessed it, I don't own it... but I do own this 'idea' of messing with them.
Author's Note: Sorry for the shortness, but I'll make it bigger when I finish writing it...
Ace was awake. It was early, for sure, but that didn't bother him any. It only meant that his thoughts wouldn't be interrupted as he straightened them out. Out loud. "So, we kinda know what we are," he pontificated to his silent companion. "Apparently, according to Marcus, we're some sort of treasure making... thing. Which is absolutely ridiculous, by the way," he added over his shoulder. He padded across the floor in momentary silence. After rubbing his nose and puffing up his fur in an attempt to get warm, he continued. "I don't think we make treasure, but... we know that we seem to be able to access a form of pocket space..."
A near silent rumble echoed from Smoker's direction, and Ace took it as a question. "It's... theoretical stuff, mostly." He shrugged, mostly for the heat that motion would bring him, because he doubted Smoker was actually watching him. "It would appear as though you're pulling shit from nothing. Or... putting things in... nothing. Geez, I don't really know how to explain it... but you ever read a comic that has a little person suddenly pull a huge hammer or something out of nowhere and they use it to beat up whoever's being stupid?"
There was a grunt from Smoker's direction, and Ace took it as his reply. "Good, good," he murmured. "It's more than that, of course, but we, as moogles, seem to be able to access this..." He glanced over at the other moogle, and at the glazed glare that was sent his way decided to not try to explain theories that he did not understand very well himself. "Well, you get it well enough, right?" Without waiting for another reply he continued. "So... we can take things out of this... pocket space... and put things in it..." To demonstrate the 'taking out of', which he had finally figured out, he extracted a huge piece of stone from his 'pocket space'. "Oh yeah," he muttered, staring at the stone.
He rolled it noisily over to where Smoker lay prone. "Recognize this, big boy?" The only reply he received this time was a muzzy stare. Ace patted the large grey stone cheerfully. "I found this yesterday while we were trying not to get found. It's a part of that ugly ass statue." One of Smoker's eyebrows quirked in an obvious question and Ace shrugged. "Okay, I admit, I didn't see the statue, but I bet it was pretty damn ugly."
Smoker's eyes attempted to focus on his. "Pooooooortgas," he drawled, blinking several times. "What time is it?"
Ace scratched an ear and looked out the window. "Hmmm... The moon set about an hour ago... so I'd say it's about... four-ish?" He shrugged it off and started back up. "So I found this and I was wondering..."
"Portgas..." Smoker interrupted and sat up, very slowly. "Why are you awake?"
Ace blinked down at the other moogle, who was obviously disgruntled. "I couldn't sleep anymore?" Then a bright idea occurred to him. "Hey! I'm awake, and now you're awake... and it's likely that no one else is really awake unless they're too drunk to see straight, or in the middle of something we shouldn't interrupt anyway... So why don't we go visit your cousin?"
"Number two," grunted the disgruntled one.
"He's taking a doo?" Ace frowned. That didn't make much sense.
"No. He'll be busy. Doing something that's probably illegal if you aren't him. As it is, he's still on shaky ground," Smoker grumbled, then curled right back up as if intending to go back to sleep.
Ace pounced on him. "Oh no you don't!" Somehow the pounce didn't go as expected though, and his paws ended up disappearing into Smoker's warm fur, even as his torso landed between Smoker's wings. "Mmf? Hey, no fair!" And Smoker rolled over, which made Ace squishies. "Get off of me! Eeeheee..." He kicked futilely for a moment.
"Go back to sleep, you little asshole," Smoker ordered, then proceeded to do so himself.
Smoker opened his eyes again to the sound of a small voice whimpering. "Mommeee... I didn't mean to light the house on fire..." The litany was interrupted by a soft cough. "Mommeee..." Then there was the feeling of something struggling beneath his chest. After a moment of intense struggle, the voice came again, clearer. "Mooommy! It was grampa's fault, he gave me the stick... Mommy!" Portgas kicked him in the chest and clawed a few feet away before whining again. "Mommy! Luffy's eating the fire!"
After a moment of thinking about it, Smoker supposed that that made sense. What he had seen of Strawhat... Wait, Portgas knows Strawhat... That much Smoker knew, but since childhood? The pirate's dream obviously had to do with childhood fears. Smoker pondered on it for a while, while waiting for Portgas to awaken. Again.
Portgas' antenna thing bobbed up and down for a moment before the pirate planted his face in the floor to continue whining. Smoker sighed. After all, he was awake now, so Portgas had better also be. Soon. Although... that orange ball was beginning to look rather... interesting.
The Marine rolled to his feet and waddled over to where the ball sat on the floor, about half of a foot away from Portgas' head. With unjustifiable curiosity, he reached down and gently picked it up. It was... soft, in a bristly way. It felt a little like one of those loufa things Hina always had in the bath. Or maybe like a bristly koosh ball. He dug his fingers into it experimentally and watched the pirate twitch.
Portgas whimpered again in his sleep, and kicked his foot a few times. Smoker found this mildly amusing, so flexed his fingers in the ball. The pirate made a noise that Smoker could only call pornographic. He almost dropped the fuzzy ball thing. Almost. Instead he squished it.
It was more than a little gratifying when Portgas squealed into full wakefulness.