NEW FIC: Profit and Loss Margins for a Tentacle Dungeon
title Profit and Loss Margins for a Tentacle Dungeon
authorpatientalien
rating M
summary Xanatos du Crion has an accountant, a dungeon, and a tentacle demon. Oh, and a Jedi Padawan.
notes Based on Jess and Jen's hilarious tumblr RP.
"Ten thousand credits per month?"
At the sound of the other man's voice, Xanatos du Crion sighs and puts down his datapad. "What did you say, Paul?" he asks his accountant, taking off his bifocals and setting them on the table.
Paul, the aforementioned accountant, waves a printed spreadsheet at him. "Ten thousand credits per month, Xan!" he repeats. "For a... what does this say? Tentacle dungeon?" He puts the spreadsheet down and gives Xanatos an incredulous look. "Really?"
Xanatos shrugs nonchalantly, as if tentacle dungeons are run of the mill purchases. "It's for work," he replies equally nonchalantly. "So I'm sure we can claim it as a write-off, right?"
Paul pinches the bridge of his nose, the start of a migraine forming behind his right eye. "I'm fairly certain 'tentacle dungeon' is not a legitimate business expense," he informs the other man, though he does make a note to look through the case law to see if there is a loophole somewhere. It's a big galaxy, so it's possible.
"I can show you," Xanatos offers, standing up and gesturing to the doorway. "Come on, it will be fun."
Paul is dubious about this, but he is kind of curious about what one does with a tentacle dungeon. He also has no idea what a tentacle dungeon even IS. "Fine," he acquieses.
Xanatos seems ridiculously pleased as he leads Paul down a set of stone stairs (Paul isn't one hundred percent certain he's ever noticed them, and it's entirely possible they are a new addition) to a large metal door.
The dark-haired man keys in a code in the pad by the door and it swings open. Immediately, the definition of the term 'tentacle dungeon' becomes apparent. It is, indeed, a dungeon in the most literal sense of the word, and there are, in fact, tentacles that seem to be growing from the walls. Every wall, top to bottom, is sprouting green and purple tentacles, long and waving, sticky suckers probing the air.
"Huh," Paul says and then notices something in the room that is definitely not a tentacle but is instead wrapped in said tentacles. "Is that a person?" he squawks, but then decides he really needs to expect this sort of thing.
"That is an Obi-Wan," Xanatos responds, and the Obi-Wan makes a moaning noise as the tentacles bereft him of more of his clothing. "I told you it was for work."
Paul opens his mouth once or twice like a surprised goober fish. "Did you kidnap that kid?" he demands.
Xanatos waves his hand in a dismissive fashion. "Kidnap is such a strong word."
"Well, where did he come from?" Paul asks as the tentacles start to insert themselves into... oh. Paul's own asshole clenches on its own accord.
"From mind your business, Paul, that's where," Xanatos reponds as the Obi-Wan begins to make pathetic mewling noises.
"We could get in a lot of trouble for this," Paul points out, but he's sure Xanatos is going to have some kind of witty response to that, too. "There are laws against, you know, kidnapping Jedi Padawans."
"Not as many as you'd think," Xanatos responds, much as Paul had expected. "His name is Jerry, by the way."
"Who, the Padawan? I thought you said he was an Obi-Wan." Paul is starting to get a little confused by all of this.
Xanatos rolls his eyes and tosses his hair over his shoulder with a flourish because obviously it is a completely necessary thing to do at that exact moment. "No, the Padawan is Obi-Wan, the tentacle demon is Jerry," he explains, as if to a child. Which Paul is not, by the way, he's a forty-two-year-old accountant and just because he can't parse out why Xanatos du Crion has a kriffing Jedi Apprentice in a dungeon that also contains a tentacle demon, it doesn't mean he is a child.
"Regardless, Xan, we can't keep a tentacle dungeon down here." Paul decides to try a different track. "There are zoning laws to consider, for example. And I'm not sure if we need to register a tentacle demon - get it shots and vaccinations?" He starts ticking additional items off on his fingers. "I mean besides the obvious, the expenses for this thing are going to add up."
"Money is of no concern," says Xanatos, making a hand gesture. Jerry the Tentacle Demon slides itself deeper into the Obi-Wan's mouth and asshole. Paul winces. "All I'm asking you to do is continue to be discrete." One of Jerry's tentacles wraps itself loosely around Paul's neck. "Can you do that for me, Paul?"
Paul gulps and nods. It's not as though he has any intention of being indiscrete, it's just that he's not sure Xanatos has thought this plan all the way through.
The tentacle retracts. "Good," he says. "Can you show yourself out?" he asks after a moment, leaving Paul near the door and sidling up beside the Obi-Wan. "I've got to make sure our guest is enjoying the accomodations."
From the whimpering noise the Padawan is making, Paul assumes he does not find the accomodations to be at all satisfactory. Still, he can take a hint, and leads himself back up the stairs and back to his ledgers and balance sheets. He tries not to notice how rumpled Xanatos looks when he comes back up, an hour later. "You can use it as a tax write-off," he says, simply, and goes back to his work.
authorpatientalien
rating M
summary Xanatos du Crion has an accountant, a dungeon, and a tentacle demon. Oh, and a Jedi Padawan.
notes Based on Jess and Jen's hilarious tumblr RP.
"Ten thousand credits per month?"
At the sound of the other man's voice, Xanatos du Crion sighs and puts down his datapad. "What did you say, Paul?" he asks his accountant, taking off his bifocals and setting them on the table.
Paul, the aforementioned accountant, waves a printed spreadsheet at him. "Ten thousand credits per month, Xan!" he repeats. "For a... what does this say? Tentacle dungeon?" He puts the spreadsheet down and gives Xanatos an incredulous look. "Really?"
Xanatos shrugs nonchalantly, as if tentacle dungeons are run of the mill purchases. "It's for work," he replies equally nonchalantly. "So I'm sure we can claim it as a write-off, right?"
Paul pinches the bridge of his nose, the start of a migraine forming behind his right eye. "I'm fairly certain 'tentacle dungeon' is not a legitimate business expense," he informs the other man, though he does make a note to look through the case law to see if there is a loophole somewhere. It's a big galaxy, so it's possible.
"I can show you," Xanatos offers, standing up and gesturing to the doorway. "Come on, it will be fun."
Paul is dubious about this, but he is kind of curious about what one does with a tentacle dungeon. He also has no idea what a tentacle dungeon even IS. "Fine," he acquieses.
Xanatos seems ridiculously pleased as he leads Paul down a set of stone stairs (Paul isn't one hundred percent certain he's ever noticed them, and it's entirely possible they are a new addition) to a large metal door.
The dark-haired man keys in a code in the pad by the door and it swings open. Immediately, the definition of the term 'tentacle dungeon' becomes apparent. It is, indeed, a dungeon in the most literal sense of the word, and there are, in fact, tentacles that seem to be growing from the walls. Every wall, top to bottom, is sprouting green and purple tentacles, long and waving, sticky suckers probing the air.
"Huh," Paul says and then notices something in the room that is definitely not a tentacle but is instead wrapped in said tentacles. "Is that a person?" he squawks, but then decides he really needs to expect this sort of thing.
"That is an Obi-Wan," Xanatos responds, and the Obi-Wan makes a moaning noise as the tentacles bereft him of more of his clothing. "I told you it was for work."
Paul opens his mouth once or twice like a surprised goober fish. "Did you kidnap that kid?" he demands.
Xanatos waves his hand in a dismissive fashion. "Kidnap is such a strong word."
"Well, where did he come from?" Paul asks as the tentacles start to insert themselves into... oh. Paul's own asshole clenches on its own accord.
"From mind your business, Paul, that's where," Xanatos reponds as the Obi-Wan begins to make pathetic mewling noises.
"We could get in a lot of trouble for this," Paul points out, but he's sure Xanatos is going to have some kind of witty response to that, too. "There are laws against, you know, kidnapping Jedi Padawans."
"Not as many as you'd think," Xanatos responds, much as Paul had expected. "His name is Jerry, by the way."
"Who, the Padawan? I thought you said he was an Obi-Wan." Paul is starting to get a little confused by all of this.
Xanatos rolls his eyes and tosses his hair over his shoulder with a flourish because obviously it is a completely necessary thing to do at that exact moment. "No, the Padawan is Obi-Wan, the tentacle demon is Jerry," he explains, as if to a child. Which Paul is not, by the way, he's a forty-two-year-old accountant and just because he can't parse out why Xanatos du Crion has a kriffing Jedi Apprentice in a dungeon that also contains a tentacle demon, it doesn't mean he is a child.
"Regardless, Xan, we can't keep a tentacle dungeon down here." Paul decides to try a different track. "There are zoning laws to consider, for example. And I'm not sure if we need to register a tentacle demon - get it shots and vaccinations?" He starts ticking additional items off on his fingers. "I mean besides the obvious, the expenses for this thing are going to add up."
"Money is of no concern," says Xanatos, making a hand gesture. Jerry the Tentacle Demon slides itself deeper into the Obi-Wan's mouth and asshole. Paul winces. "All I'm asking you to do is continue to be discrete." One of Jerry's tentacles wraps itself loosely around Paul's neck. "Can you do that for me, Paul?"
Paul gulps and nods. It's not as though he has any intention of being indiscrete, it's just that he's not sure Xanatos has thought this plan all the way through.
The tentacle retracts. "Good," he says. "Can you show yourself out?" he asks after a moment, leaving Paul near the door and sidling up beside the Obi-Wan. "I've got to make sure our guest is enjoying the accomodations."
From the whimpering noise the Padawan is making, Paul assumes he does not find the accomodations to be at all satisfactory. Still, he can take a hint, and leads himself back up the stairs and back to his ledgers and balance sheets. He tries not to notice how rumpled Xanatos looks when he comes back up, an hour later. "You can use it as a tax write-off," he says, simply, and goes back to his work.