A/N to all you Unikitty lovers:
I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I have no ill feelings towards the thing; she just gets on my nerves sometimes. And, let's be honest, Nico WOULD do this.
Me no own Lego movie or PJO.
Nico di Angelo
versus
Unikitty
It was bright pink and of some species he'd never seen in his fourteen-year-old life. Definitely not a normal animal. A monster, maybe? Whatever it was, it was freaking him out. Was it even healthy for it to have eyes that big?
"HAAAAAIIIII!" it shrieked in a girly voice so sugary sweet that it made him want to brush his teeth. "You look so LONELY! Do you need a friend?!"
"No," he said shortly. Gods, why couldn't these weirdos just leave him alone? He had a hard enough time with mortal policemen and other people who wanted to use the park bench he used as a bed when too lazy to shadow-travel elsewhere; did he have to be pestered by half cat/half unicorn cotton-candy-pink things, too?
"Well, I think you do!" It kept prattling on and on. Nico began wondering what color dust it would make if he stabbed it with his Stygian iron sword. "Everyone needs friends! Where I come from — it's called Cloud Cuckoo Land — everyone was friends with everyone! Where did you come from?!"
"Hell," he told it.
It stared at him, mouth frozen while half open, for a few seconds before it regained its composure and kept going. "Well, that doesn't sound very happy! You know what you need?!"
He prayed to every deity he knew — and there were quite a few — that the thing wouldn't say what he thought it was going to say.
"TO THINK POSITIVE!"
Nico groaned and held his head in his hands. He swore he could hear the laughter all the way from Olympus. He'd bet his last drachma that this was being broadcasted on Hephaestus TV, too.
"That's what I think your problem is, little boy!" At "little boy", Nico began cussing it out (under his breath and aloud) but it simply ignored him and kept going in that horribly high, shrieking voice and an exclamation point at the end of every sentence. "You're not thinking POSITIVE enough! You need to EMBRACE your inner HAPPINESS and every bad thing in your life will go POUF!"
Nico's patience was fraying fast. "Well, you know what?" he said, barely containing his temper and channeling it into the speed he'd need to flip up a certain finger in record time, "Fudge you!"
Except…he didn't say fudge.
Cotton Candy Thing looked substantially surprised but not quite offended. "Well, that's hardly the way to think!" it gasped. "You need to focus your anger towards BAD things, and focus your happiness to GOOD things! Think about GOOD things, and the BAD will become WORSE!"
Nico slumped backwards on the bench and began sobbing. Tartarus had been less painful, and he didn't say that lightly either.
"Let's think of GOOD things! Like…like…flowers! Yes, do you like flowers?!"
Reminded him of Persephone. "Bleeding Hades NO."
The thing was unflustered. "Well, what about sunshine?! Everyone loves the sunshine!"
He bared his teeth and hissed. Pink Thing didn't even seem to notice.
"Or…or…RAINBOWS!" it exploded. "Yes, RAINBOWS! I'm sure you LOVE rainbows, Nico!"
Never mind how it knew his name. But no one, and I repeat, no one talked to him about rainbows. Nico directed his best death glare at the creature. He'd made a dozen hellhounds disintegrate once with this glare; hopefully it'd work for this…thing. When he spoke, his voice was dangerous enough to send New York gangsters running home for their mommies. "Four words, Pepto-Bismol Face: Shut. The. Hell. Up."
"Oh, but...but you NEED happiness!" Yay, its peppy-level seemed to be going down and the desperate-level seemed to be going up. Maybe his charming personality was doing its job. "What about — what about — happy things — happy, happy, happy — think positive, Nico! How about — about…YOUR FAMILY!"
…
Wrong move, Unikitty.
Nico stood up. There was a smile on his face. It was not a happy smile. Positive emotions did not fuel this fire.
"I'm afraid that doesn't help me."
Hades sank down on the black leather couch, engrossed in the game on the screen. It was the Steelers versus the Dolphins, and so far, the scores were even and things were already getting tense. He had his money on the Steelers; Poseidon on the Dolphins. Go figure.
In the vaguest outskirts of his mind, he registered a slamming door and footsteps on the cold marble floor as someone entered the largest living room in the Underworld. Thanatos, probably. He liked the Steelers. He was proven wrong, though, when his son sauntered up to the couch and took an unopened Pepsi from the package beside Hades.
"Hey, Dad," Nico said. Hades ignored him. One of the Dolphins — he couldn't recall the name for the immortal life of him; not that he particularly cared anyway — was going in for a touchdown. And…and…and…
"NO!" Hades leapt up from the couch, his fists clenched. He could feel the burning anger inside of him and wanted desperately to destroy something, but he held himself back. He reminded himself that it was just the second quarter. His team had time.
Nico had jumped backwards when his father had exploded into motion, and noticing the movement Hades glanced over at his son. He frowned as he realized a very valid something. Nico hadn't sat down. Usually, when Hades was watching football and Nico wanted to join, he'd just curl up catlike in the recliner next to the couch. But Nico wasn't on the recliner.
The reason why made the frown transform into an open mouth, and Hades sighed.
"Nico," he said slowly, as if speaking to a young child, "why in the unholy name of Tartarus are you covered in pink dust?"
Something like a grin flashed across his son's face, but then it was replaced by innocence. "Oh, this?" He held up his arm and shook it, sending granules of bright, sparkling, ballerina pink dust flying off his jacket sleeve and onto the black marble floor. Hades' left eye twitched, but he once again controlled himself. He'd just have a servant clean it later.
"I had a run-in with a defective cotton candy machine," explained Nico, completely deadpan. "I'm exhausted. Mind if I sit down?"
Hades glanced judgmentally at the clean upholstery of his son's favorite recliner, then at the boy's dirty, street-grimy, pink-dusted clothes. He was about to tell him to change and shower before he even thought about touching the clean furniture, but Nico really did look at the end of his rope and anyway…
"Go Steelers," Nico smiled.
Oh, all right. "Sit down, kid."
Mmm…I did not mean for this to turn out all hurt-comforty towards the end.
Meh.
Reviews are love...
