100daysofsummer
1,696! Right on target.
Weird little story thing, though...
It was always the purebreds that got picked first. The puppies with pedigrees and traceable lineages were in high demand. Those that were directly descended from lords and kings and emperors fetched high prices and never stayed in the kennels long.
Not everyone wanted a purebred, though. There was a great deal of talk about inbreeding and the natural faults inherent in buying a puppy from a lofty background. Purebreds could be more trouble than what they were worth, and at the prices purebreds fetched, people wanted to make damn sure that they were getting their money’s worth. Some opted for the mutts. The variety was endless, each puppy unique, and they came at much cheaper prices than the purebreds.
Heinz had watched enough to know though, that there was a hierarchy even in mutts. Some mutts were only a few steps removed from the purebreds. A bastard of a bastard, or a lineage fallen out of favor and reduced to commoner status. They held some of the same status and had a lot of the same similar characteristics of a purebred, but without the purebred price. Other mutts were simply amalgams of the right features. Pleasant to look at with pleasing personalities and unique enough to hold their own against pedigreed puppies. While not used as status symbols, they were highly sought after by those interested in owning.
And then, on the very bottom rung of the kennels, were the puppies like Heinz. Ordinary almost to the point of homeliness. His features weren’t unique enough to be interesting, not ugly enough to attract attention or to amuse in some fashion. His lackluster brown hair held no highlights as he’d not seen the light of day for some time. And while his freckles stood out in stark relief against his skin, he was so pale he often blended into the whitewash walls. However, he wasn’t sickly or pathetic enough to garner the pity of some poor person looking to own. There were far too many others who could steal a heart with a solemn soulful glance.
On top of all that, he’d never had a particularly charismatic personality. All the other puppies vied for the attentions of the people walking through. Heinz had attempted similar tricks when he’d been much, much younger, but at this late date, he failed to see the point. Mutts that weren’t chosen in their first three years often were never chosen. Heinz was the oldest mutt in the kennels, and he knew his time was running out. New puppies were brought in at the first of every month, and there had to be room to accommodate them.
The front doors opened and Heinz caught a glimpse of what little sunlight he was allowed to see as people streamed in to Look. The people looking were as varied as the puppies they bought, coming from the far reaches of the universe to choose a puppy to carry back to whatever planet they called home. Short ones, tall ones, rich ones, poor ones. Each had a specific agenda in mind, Heinz imagined, and he knew that someone of his look and charms would not match. So he sat in the corner of his kennel on his pallet with his blanket and watched with dulled curiosity as people milled about, requesting certain puppies be brought out and displaying interest in others still in kennels.
His kennel was at the very end of the run, which was maybe why it came as such a shock to him when he realized that booted heels were walking up to take a closer look at him.
The man attached to the boots had shiny hair that was braided in rows, and skin as black as night. His jacket and trousers were of obvious Quality, and he carried himself with an air of confidence that only the rich and the powerful can manage.
“I’d like to take a closer look at this one,” he said loudly, the deep tones of his rich voice resonating off the whitewash walls.
“Sir, that one is just a simple mutt, surely there are others you’d first like to look at?” One of the kennel masters wheedled. “We have a newly acquired purebred from the far eastern reaches of the galaxy that would be far more interesting. His type is quite rare and quite valuable.”
The man with skin as black as night, however, did not simply acquiesce to the kennel master’s prodding. Heinz let the blanket slip away as he cautiously climbed from his bed. “I’m not interested in purebreds. A mutt is much more to my tastes, and I wish to have a closer look at this one. Or is he, for some reason, not for sale?”
Heinz watched the kennel master try to backpedal out of that one. “Er, no, he is for sale. It’s just that he’s been here for so long. Uninteresting to most people, you see. In fact, he’s slated for removal at the end of the month.” The kennel master spared Heinz a glance at that. The thought made his blood quicken, if just for a moment. But Heinz had spent so many years here in the kennels that removal had become something of an inevitable conclusion a few years back, and the momentary start it gave him quickly faded into dulled resignation.
“All the more reason to bring him out now so that I might take a closer look,” the man with skin as black as night barked out, startling Heinz into looking directly into his eyes. They were so dark that Heinz was certain that they were black and not a mere paltry brown.
The kennel master unlocked his kennel, stepping in quickly and grabbing Heinz by the scruff of the neck to pull him out. At the far end of the runs, Heinz caught a glimpse of other people already eying perspective puppies, who looked up briefly to see what the commotion was on the other end. But once they caught sight of Heinz, they inevitably went back to the much grander puppies already before them.
“How old is he?”
“Seventeen, almost eighteen,” the kennel master replied. Having never kept track himself, Heinz was a little surprised to learn that he’d reached that age. No wonder he’d been slated for removal. He was well past the marketable age. “Old,” the kennel master confirmed. “Much too old to easily train.”
“Any past illnesses or chronic problems?” Large, strong hands gently touched his sides, and Heinz started as he made all effort to keep his gaze averted. It was difficult, however, not to lean ever so slightly into the touches as they prodded softly at his ribs and slid over his arms and felt the depth and breadth of his chest. Mutts like him were rarely-if ever-taken out by people or by kennel masters. They were kept apart from the new puppies as if their ugly unwanted nature might be catching, and rarely did they interact with the kennel masters as the kennel masters were as keenly aware as them as to what their fate might be if they were not chosen.
No one had touched Heinz in a very long time. And certainly, no one had been as gentle about it. The last one to have ordered him out of his kennel had been a pockmarked pirate quite a few years back in need of a guard dog. Those hands had been rough, callused and griped hard enough to leave bruises. In the end, Heinz had been deemed too docile and unthreatening to lend much protection to a ship of questionable legality.
“No, he’s healthy in every way. Just old. And homely,” the kennel master replied, not unkindly. “I’d given up on finding him a home.”
“He seems fit,” the man with skin as black as night said slowly, fingers gliding across Heinz’s cheeks down towards his chin and then lifting Heinz’s head up so that he was forced to look in the man’s eyes once more. He slid a thumb over Heinz’s bottom lip, and absently, Heinz let them slip open. Mesmerized, he watched as the man with skin as black as night tilted his head down and sealed his lips over Heinz’s.
His lips were warm and smooth, and Heinz itched to grab on to the Quality jacket and cling. A tongue slipped in, and Heinz savored the taste as he quivered in place. Sandalwood and cinnamon and sage.
Of course, Heinz had no illusions as to what kind of puppy he was. To kiss the man with skin as black as night was an honor, a thrill not to be taken lightly. To kiss a mongrel such as him was as forgettable as the first piss one took each day. He let the man with skin as black as night break the kiss, then, and let his eyes fall back to the floor. With cheeks as pale as his, freckles or no, and as hot as it felt, the blush gracing his face was a foregone conclusion.
“Perfect,” the man with skin as black as night breathed. “I’ll take him.”
Startled, Heinz jerked his head up to see a smile that reached the eyes alight on the face of the man with skin as black as night.
“Are you certain, sir?” the kennel master asked doubtfully, echoing Heinz’s own thoughts. “All sales are nonrefundable. You can not bring him back should you change your mind and it is against all interplanetary policies to release these puppies into the wilds of the universe.”
“I am most certain,” the man with skin as black as night laughed. His hand landed lightly on Heinz’s shoulder, a thumb reaching out to trace the bottom edge of the tattooed collar that wrapped around Heinz’s neck. “I assume this facility can properly adjust his collar to reflect his change in status?” A midnight eyebrow raised.
“But of course. We can see to it immediately.”
“And he’ll be given the proper drugs to make it a painless experience?”
Heinz looked up at the man with skin as black as night, eyes big and round. Not even the wealthiest of people who bought the most expensive of purebreds offered to numb the pain. It was a bearable-if unpleasant-process. Such measures were only reserved for the beloved. Not for the discarded debris like Heinz.
“If it is your desire,” the kennel master genuflected, obviously as mystified as Heinz by the man with skin as black as night. “You can even sit with him as the deed is done, if you wish.”
“I do,” the man said simply, wrapping his (strong, gentle, confusing) arms around Heinz’s smaller frame and pulling him close.
Okay, the problem with these things is that they keep having universes that might be fun to play in if I take the time to sketch them out in more than the barest of details >_>;;. Now to go catch up on what I've missed in ljland...
Weird little story thing, though...
It was always the purebreds that got picked first. The puppies with pedigrees and traceable lineages were in high demand. Those that were directly descended from lords and kings and emperors fetched high prices and never stayed in the kennels long.
Not everyone wanted a purebred, though. There was a great deal of talk about inbreeding and the natural faults inherent in buying a puppy from a lofty background. Purebreds could be more trouble than what they were worth, and at the prices purebreds fetched, people wanted to make damn sure that they were getting their money’s worth. Some opted for the mutts. The variety was endless, each puppy unique, and they came at much cheaper prices than the purebreds.
Heinz had watched enough to know though, that there was a hierarchy even in mutts. Some mutts were only a few steps removed from the purebreds. A bastard of a bastard, or a lineage fallen out of favor and reduced to commoner status. They held some of the same status and had a lot of the same similar characteristics of a purebred, but without the purebred price. Other mutts were simply amalgams of the right features. Pleasant to look at with pleasing personalities and unique enough to hold their own against pedigreed puppies. While not used as status symbols, they were highly sought after by those interested in owning.
And then, on the very bottom rung of the kennels, were the puppies like Heinz. Ordinary almost to the point of homeliness. His features weren’t unique enough to be interesting, not ugly enough to attract attention or to amuse in some fashion. His lackluster brown hair held no highlights as he’d not seen the light of day for some time. And while his freckles stood out in stark relief against his skin, he was so pale he often blended into the whitewash walls. However, he wasn’t sickly or pathetic enough to garner the pity of some poor person looking to own. There were far too many others who could steal a heart with a solemn soulful glance.
On top of all that, he’d never had a particularly charismatic personality. All the other puppies vied for the attentions of the people walking through. Heinz had attempted similar tricks when he’d been much, much younger, but at this late date, he failed to see the point. Mutts that weren’t chosen in their first three years often were never chosen. Heinz was the oldest mutt in the kennels, and he knew his time was running out. New puppies were brought in at the first of every month, and there had to be room to accommodate them.
The front doors opened and Heinz caught a glimpse of what little sunlight he was allowed to see as people streamed in to Look. The people looking were as varied as the puppies they bought, coming from the far reaches of the universe to choose a puppy to carry back to whatever planet they called home. Short ones, tall ones, rich ones, poor ones. Each had a specific agenda in mind, Heinz imagined, and he knew that someone of his look and charms would not match. So he sat in the corner of his kennel on his pallet with his blanket and watched with dulled curiosity as people milled about, requesting certain puppies be brought out and displaying interest in others still in kennels.
His kennel was at the very end of the run, which was maybe why it came as such a shock to him when he realized that booted heels were walking up to take a closer look at him.
The man attached to the boots had shiny hair that was braided in rows, and skin as black as night. His jacket and trousers were of obvious Quality, and he carried himself with an air of confidence that only the rich and the powerful can manage.
“I’d like to take a closer look at this one,” he said loudly, the deep tones of his rich voice resonating off the whitewash walls.
“Sir, that one is just a simple mutt, surely there are others you’d first like to look at?” One of the kennel masters wheedled. “We have a newly acquired purebred from the far eastern reaches of the galaxy that would be far more interesting. His type is quite rare and quite valuable.”
The man with skin as black as night, however, did not simply acquiesce to the kennel master’s prodding. Heinz let the blanket slip away as he cautiously climbed from his bed. “I’m not interested in purebreds. A mutt is much more to my tastes, and I wish to have a closer look at this one. Or is he, for some reason, not for sale?”
Heinz watched the kennel master try to backpedal out of that one. “Er, no, he is for sale. It’s just that he’s been here for so long. Uninteresting to most people, you see. In fact, he’s slated for removal at the end of the month.” The kennel master spared Heinz a glance at that. The thought made his blood quicken, if just for a moment. But Heinz had spent so many years here in the kennels that removal had become something of an inevitable conclusion a few years back, and the momentary start it gave him quickly faded into dulled resignation.
“All the more reason to bring him out now so that I might take a closer look,” the man with skin as black as night barked out, startling Heinz into looking directly into his eyes. They were so dark that Heinz was certain that they were black and not a mere paltry brown.
The kennel master unlocked his kennel, stepping in quickly and grabbing Heinz by the scruff of the neck to pull him out. At the far end of the runs, Heinz caught a glimpse of other people already eying perspective puppies, who looked up briefly to see what the commotion was on the other end. But once they caught sight of Heinz, they inevitably went back to the much grander puppies already before them.
“How old is he?”
“Seventeen, almost eighteen,” the kennel master replied. Having never kept track himself, Heinz was a little surprised to learn that he’d reached that age. No wonder he’d been slated for removal. He was well past the marketable age. “Old,” the kennel master confirmed. “Much too old to easily train.”
“Any past illnesses or chronic problems?” Large, strong hands gently touched his sides, and Heinz started as he made all effort to keep his gaze averted. It was difficult, however, not to lean ever so slightly into the touches as they prodded softly at his ribs and slid over his arms and felt the depth and breadth of his chest. Mutts like him were rarely-if ever-taken out by people or by kennel masters. They were kept apart from the new puppies as if their ugly unwanted nature might be catching, and rarely did they interact with the kennel masters as the kennel masters were as keenly aware as them as to what their fate might be if they were not chosen.
No one had touched Heinz in a very long time. And certainly, no one had been as gentle about it. The last one to have ordered him out of his kennel had been a pockmarked pirate quite a few years back in need of a guard dog. Those hands had been rough, callused and griped hard enough to leave bruises. In the end, Heinz had been deemed too docile and unthreatening to lend much protection to a ship of questionable legality.
“No, he’s healthy in every way. Just old. And homely,” the kennel master replied, not unkindly. “I’d given up on finding him a home.”
“He seems fit,” the man with skin as black as night said slowly, fingers gliding across Heinz’s cheeks down towards his chin and then lifting Heinz’s head up so that he was forced to look in the man’s eyes once more. He slid a thumb over Heinz’s bottom lip, and absently, Heinz let them slip open. Mesmerized, he watched as the man with skin as black as night tilted his head down and sealed his lips over Heinz’s.
His lips were warm and smooth, and Heinz itched to grab on to the Quality jacket and cling. A tongue slipped in, and Heinz savored the taste as he quivered in place. Sandalwood and cinnamon and sage.
Of course, Heinz had no illusions as to what kind of puppy he was. To kiss the man with skin as black as night was an honor, a thrill not to be taken lightly. To kiss a mongrel such as him was as forgettable as the first piss one took each day. He let the man with skin as black as night break the kiss, then, and let his eyes fall back to the floor. With cheeks as pale as his, freckles or no, and as hot as it felt, the blush gracing his face was a foregone conclusion.
“Perfect,” the man with skin as black as night breathed. “I’ll take him.”
Startled, Heinz jerked his head up to see a smile that reached the eyes alight on the face of the man with skin as black as night.
“Are you certain, sir?” the kennel master asked doubtfully, echoing Heinz’s own thoughts. “All sales are nonrefundable. You can not bring him back should you change your mind and it is against all interplanetary policies to release these puppies into the wilds of the universe.”
“I am most certain,” the man with skin as black as night laughed. His hand landed lightly on Heinz’s shoulder, a thumb reaching out to trace the bottom edge of the tattooed collar that wrapped around Heinz’s neck. “I assume this facility can properly adjust his collar to reflect his change in status?” A midnight eyebrow raised.
“But of course. We can see to it immediately.”
“And he’ll be given the proper drugs to make it a painless experience?”
Heinz looked up at the man with skin as black as night, eyes big and round. Not even the wealthiest of people who bought the most expensive of purebreds offered to numb the pain. It was a bearable-if unpleasant-process. Such measures were only reserved for the beloved. Not for the discarded debris like Heinz.
“If it is your desire,” the kennel master genuflected, obviously as mystified as Heinz by the man with skin as black as night. “You can even sit with him as the deed is done, if you wish.”
“I do,” the man said simply, wrapping his (strong, gentle, confusing) arms around Heinz’s smaller frame and pulling him close.
Okay, the problem with these things is that they keep having universes that might be fun to play in if I take the time to sketch them out in more than the barest of details >_>;;. Now to go catch up on what I've missed in ljland...