Manly Request Week: Like Poetry (FFIX, for citrinitas)

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Title: Like Poetry
Fandom: FFIX
Characters/Pairings included: Tantalus
Rating: PG
Warnings: Gratuitous drunken Napoleon Dynamite reference.

Summary: Instead of performing that popular "Canary" play, Baku thinks Tantalus can do better on their own. Tantalus proves him wrong.

For citrinitas. Written for Manly Request Week.

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“I waaaaant,” a very drunk Zidane Tribal sang, hanging upside-down from a rafter, “to be your canary!”

“We can’t write that, Zidane,” a very exasperated Blank called back, not looking up from the paper. “It’s been done already.”

“Okay!” Zidane swung himself back and forth, thinking. “I waaaaaant to be your … pony?”

Blank buried his face in his hands. “Still too close, Zidane. That’s called - plagiarism. Think of somethin’ original.”

“I want to be your plagiarism!” Cinna blurted out. He’d fallen from his barstool not long ago, but had decided he rather liked the feel of the floor.

“No, no, no.” Blank sighed and leant back in his chair. He had no idea what Baku had been thinking when he suggested that Tantalus write their own play. I Want To Be Your Canary was an overdone smash hit, and there was always the chance that the Queen would have seen it already, but - Tantalus? Writing?

He sighed. “Think of somethin’ …romantic.”

Marcus perked up. “Finally, somethin’ I know somethin’ about,” he announced, puffing out his chest.

“Uh-uh!” Zidane hooted, stopping his violent swinging momentarily. “Not you!”

“Alright, experts,” Blank said, “let’s hear somethin’. Anythin’. Or you know it’s Baku and he’s gonna beat you about it if we don’t have a play!”

“Watch a master.” Marcus officially cleared his throat. “Your sandy hair…”

“Floats in the air…” Cinna chimed in. Blank scribbled it down. Hell, it was better than Zidane’s stick pictures of the Naughty Nero Brothers.

“To me, it’s…” Marcus paused, lost in thought.

“Like a lullaby!” Zidane launched himself down from the roof, stumbling triumphantly.

Blank winced slightly, but continued to write dutifully. It was the first productive thing they’d done all day.

“I’m just flyin’ by,” Marcus rhymed.

“Oh, so high,” Cinna returned, grinning.

“Like … a kite?” Zidane offered.

“Like a kite on a skate!” Cinna proclaimed. “Did you ever do that when you were a kid?”

Marcus shook his head. “No, but it sounds like fun.”

“C’mon, guys!” Zidane gestured for the door. “Let’s try it!”

“It’s midnight,” Blank reminded them. “Do y’all want to get caught by the Pluto Knights?”

“That bunch of chumps?” Zidane puffed up his tiny shoulders, grinning. “We run circles around ‘em.”

The three men headed (unstably) towards the door, chattering on about their plans. In the sudden silence, Blank sat, eyeing the miserable poem on the parchment before him.

Finally he sighed, picking up his own beer and following the boys out. Maybe they’d just perform I Want To Be Your Canary after all.