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kh_drabbleTitle: Ships Made of Candy
Challenge: [256] Science Fiction
Word Count: 597
Notes: My brain processes "science fiction" as "spaceships," which pretty much explains where this came from. Fun fact: the title is also my "cool it" argument when arguments over canon get too serious. (This is not serious business! We have ships made of candy!)
He'd tried to pay attention for most of the talk, and he'd gotten through most of the formalities - Mickey was a king, treat him with respect, yadda yadda yadda - but the second Ansem the Wise had informed them that Mickey had come from another world using a ship, well, that was it. The talk went on, but Cid's mind fixated on the point where the King of Radiant Garden had pretty much told him his dreams had just come true.
Soon as the talk was over, he'd bolted for his workshop some three flights of stories down and sixty yards away across a lawn - nobody really wanted to be around while he was working with motors, and that suited Cid just fine. He threw open the doors, revealing the engine bits scattered over just about every surface and the steel machine parts leaned against charred walls – visual evidence of his more explosive attempts – and took in what didn't belong: the tiny red spaceship and its pilot, who greeted him with a big grin. "Hi! You must be Cid."
He was a bit taken aback by - well, everything - but he still managed a nod. "Hi, Your Majesty. This your ship?"
"Sure is!" Mickey patted her proudly as Cid crossed the space between them, surreptitiously inspecting the ship from every angle he could find. "Built her myself." Cid leaned against a wing as the king began to explain the R&D process, something about star shards and magic and-
He stopped paying attention pretty quickly when he lost his balance and toppled over backwards. Above him, the wing, which had bent under his weight, snapped back into place with a loud boi-yoi-yoing.
Cid just stared. Real spaceships did not go boi-yoi-yoing. "The h- what's she made of?" he asked, remembering the admonition to watch his language just in time.
"Gummi blocks," the king answered proudly. "You're more'n welcome to look under the hood."
That was all the invitation Cid needed. He was flat on his back and under the ship in no time flat, removing the bottom panels and inspecting the inner workings of this incredibly weird ship. He could see pretty well where the systems fit together - he'd need a little more time with it, sure, but the basics were easy enough. There was one problem, though. "You ain't got fuel cells or a gas tank or anythin' in here. What's she run on?"
"Happy faces."
...the hell was that supposed to mean? He scooted out from under the ship. "Happy faces," he repeated flatly.
"Yep!" Mickey was not put off by his cynicism in the slightest. "Give her a smile and she'll take you anywhere you wanna go." He patted the ship again, his own smile on his face, and the engine purred contentedly.
Okay then. He could work with that.
"I gotta head up to meet with Ansem the Wise," the king continued. "Go ahead and tinker around some more if you like."
"Right. Got it." Mickey was barely gone before Cid was back under the ship, inspecting everything, taking notes and making diagrams and trying to figure out how the hell the damn thing worked. When he'd heard his dream was coming true, he sure as hell hadn't expected it to be made of candy and run on happy faces. Right now, however, he was past caring about that. If he had to, he'd build a ship out of sunshine and daisies and fuel it with magical rainbow unicorn farts, just so long as it meant he could finally fly.
Challenge: [256] Science Fiction
Word Count: 597
Notes: My brain processes "science fiction" as "spaceships," which pretty much explains where this came from. Fun fact: the title is also my "cool it" argument when arguments over canon get too serious. (This is not serious business! We have ships made of candy!)
He'd tried to pay attention for most of the talk, and he'd gotten through most of the formalities - Mickey was a king, treat him with respect, yadda yadda yadda - but the second Ansem the Wise had informed them that Mickey had come from another world using a ship, well, that was it. The talk went on, but Cid's mind fixated on the point where the King of Radiant Garden had pretty much told him his dreams had just come true.
Soon as the talk was over, he'd bolted for his workshop some three flights of stories down and sixty yards away across a lawn - nobody really wanted to be around while he was working with motors, and that suited Cid just fine. He threw open the doors, revealing the engine bits scattered over just about every surface and the steel machine parts leaned against charred walls – visual evidence of his more explosive attempts – and took in what didn't belong: the tiny red spaceship and its pilot, who greeted him with a big grin. "Hi! You must be Cid."
He was a bit taken aback by - well, everything - but he still managed a nod. "Hi, Your Majesty. This your ship?"
"Sure is!" Mickey patted her proudly as Cid crossed the space between them, surreptitiously inspecting the ship from every angle he could find. "Built her myself." Cid leaned against a wing as the king began to explain the R&D process, something about star shards and magic and-
He stopped paying attention pretty quickly when he lost his balance and toppled over backwards. Above him, the wing, which had bent under his weight, snapped back into place with a loud boi-yoi-yoing.
Cid just stared. Real spaceships did not go boi-yoi-yoing. "The h- what's she made of?" he asked, remembering the admonition to watch his language just in time.
"Gummi blocks," the king answered proudly. "You're more'n welcome to look under the hood."
That was all the invitation Cid needed. He was flat on his back and under the ship in no time flat, removing the bottom panels and inspecting the inner workings of this incredibly weird ship. He could see pretty well where the systems fit together - he'd need a little more time with it, sure, but the basics were easy enough. There was one problem, though. "You ain't got fuel cells or a gas tank or anythin' in here. What's she run on?"
"Happy faces."
...the hell was that supposed to mean? He scooted out from under the ship. "Happy faces," he repeated flatly.
"Yep!" Mickey was not put off by his cynicism in the slightest. "Give her a smile and she'll take you anywhere you wanna go." He patted the ship again, his own smile on his face, and the engine purred contentedly.
Okay then. He could work with that.
"I gotta head up to meet with Ansem the Wise," the king continued. "Go ahead and tinker around some more if you like."
"Right. Got it." Mickey was barely gone before Cid was back under the ship, inspecting everything, taking notes and making diagrams and trying to figure out how the hell the damn thing worked. When he'd heard his dream was coming true, he sure as hell hadn't expected it to be made of candy and run on happy faces. Right now, however, he was past caring about that. If he had to, he'd build a ship out of sunshine and daisies and fuel it with magical rainbow unicorn farts, just so long as it meant he could finally fly.
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no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 11:38 am (UTC)How cute is this~~?! This is a great piece that could potentially be headcanon, it just makes so much sense :) Your Cid is spot on and I like how he has to consciously try and stand on ceremony (so Cid!). As usual, your ending line is killer. I am starting to envy how you can wrap up your drabbles XD
no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 04:12 pm (UTC)This is actually my first time really writing Cid, so I'm glad it worked out. And that ending line niggled at my brain for a solid week before the rest of the drabble finally showed up around it. Either way, I'm glad you liked it!
no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 07:13 pm (UTC)"Happy faces."
...the hell was that supposed to mean? He scooted out from under the ship. "Happy faces," he repeated flatly.
THERE IS NOT ENOUGH YES FOR THIS :GLOMPS YOUR FACE:
no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 08:06 pm (UTC)IT IS GLOMPED
ALLOW ME TO FIND YOU SOME MORE YES, THEN
no subject
Date: 2011-03-24 09:04 pm (UTC)You write him so well, especially the last paragraph- it's just so him.
(Icon!Cid approves too, or at least he will do, as soon as he's stopped yelling about tea...)
no subject
Date: 2011-03-26 07:06 am (UTC)This is my first time really writing Cid, so I'm glad it worked. Thanks!
(But tea is VERY IMPORTANT, don'cha know.)
no subject
Date: 2011-03-25 02:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-26 07:08 am (UTC)...he may change his mind about that soon.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-24 09:46 am (UTC)