[Ratatouille] Long Ago... [Crossover]
[Series;] Ratatouille
[Title;] Long Ago...
[Character/Pairing;] Django
[Rating;] G
[Genre/s + Theme/s] Crossover; Fair Exchange
He was just a rat looking for a roof. And maybe some garbage to fill his stomach in the meantime.
Django's life has been on the line for quite some time now, for the only place where he had not been shooed were the vessels of... pirates.
His luck took a turn for the worse when his recent abode [aka, ship] was sunk by another group of buccaneers looking for some splendors.
So for now, he was slightly delirious, half-consious, and lying on a piece of driftwood, as he had been for a while.
Or... was it?
Django fully opened his half-closed eyes to take in the scenery. After rubbing his blurry eyes and scampering to the left a bit, he realized: this was no simple piece of driftwood. this was was a full-blown ship.
Thankful, the rat darted around from one place to the next, looking around feverishly for some sign of grub. After a little searching, he saw a small provision behind a large bottle- rum. But he was not thirsty, so he sprang for what turned out to be a peanut. When he finally laid his paws on the grimy nut, his joy was overflowing.
But his serendipity was short lived.
"That was my peanut." A man was looming over him. A strange man. He had long hair, wore a red bandana, and walked with an odd sort of stride. He bent down to speak face to face with Django, who stiffened with fright. "Y'know, that was all I had to keep me sane. Been out of rum for a while now, savvy?"
Django cowered, peanut in mouth. But the pirate was still on his level. The rat backed up slowly until his rear touched the bottle he had discovered- the rum bottle.
Remembering it, he swallowed his morsel with haste and ran behind the bottle.
"Hey! You... rat... thing! You come back with my-"
But the man stopped speaking when he saw what Django had in mind. He was pushing the bottle forward with his nose.
Astounded by the rat's ability to understand him, but too dazed to point it out, the rum-thirsty pirate curled his fingers around the neck of the bottle, rings clanking noisily on the glass.
"Thanks, love," he said with a wide grin. He downed a sip as Django discovered another peanut where the rum sat. A fair trade.
[Title;] Long Ago...
[Character/Pairing;] Django
[Rating;] G
[Genre/s + Theme/s] Crossover; Fair Exchange
He was just a rat looking for a roof. And maybe some garbage to fill his stomach in the meantime.
Django's life has been on the line for quite some time now, for the only place where he had not been shooed were the vessels of... pirates.
His luck took a turn for the worse when his recent abode [aka, ship] was sunk by another group of buccaneers looking for some splendors.
So for now, he was slightly delirious, half-consious, and lying on a piece of driftwood, as he had been for a while.
Or... was it?
Django fully opened his half-closed eyes to take in the scenery. After rubbing his blurry eyes and scampering to the left a bit, he realized: this was no simple piece of driftwood. this was was a full-blown ship.
Thankful, the rat darted around from one place to the next, looking around feverishly for some sign of grub. After a little searching, he saw a small provision behind a large bottle- rum. But he was not thirsty, so he sprang for what turned out to be a peanut. When he finally laid his paws on the grimy nut, his joy was overflowing.
But his serendipity was short lived.
"That was my peanut." A man was looming over him. A strange man. He had long hair, wore a red bandana, and walked with an odd sort of stride. He bent down to speak face to face with Django, who stiffened with fright. "Y'know, that was all I had to keep me sane. Been out of rum for a while now, savvy?"
Django cowered, peanut in mouth. But the pirate was still on his level. The rat backed up slowly until his rear touched the bottle he had discovered- the rum bottle.
Remembering it, he swallowed his morsel with haste and ran behind the bottle.
"Hey! You... rat... thing! You come back with my-"
But the man stopped speaking when he saw what Django had in mind. He was pushing the bottle forward with his nose.
Astounded by the rat's ability to understand him, but too dazed to point it out, the rum-thirsty pirate curled his fingers around the neck of the bottle, rings clanking noisily on the glass.
"Thanks, love," he said with a wide grin. He downed a sip as Django discovered another peanut where the rum sat. A fair trade.