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Title: There is no Meaning of Life Hidden in the Wooden Phallus
Author: Kat
World: Licentia
Main Characters: Eric & Tristan
Borrow: No
Words: 811
Summary: Tristan tries to understand one of the festivals of his adopted homeland. Eric enjoys tormenting the poor naive man.
A/N: Thanks for pinking, Kira. Liberalia, Mars 17: Favored artisans have been hard at work creating a large phallus to decorate the city center. On this day, the large phallus is carted it through the countryside and into the city. Once erected, the phallus is decorated by local women and visitors alike to ensure a bountiful year. Masks are also hung on fences, and crude songs are sung during the procession. Come join us! Small souvenir phalluses are available from most local merchants as well as small wooden phallic animals. They are very popular.
A/N2: Originally posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
madrona_project
Tristan sat at the edge of the road, facing the city center. He tilted his head to one side until his hair brushed his shoulder and stared. Finding that it still didn't make any sense, he tried tilting his head the other way. Most people ignored him as they danced around, drunkenly singing songs that made the tips of Tristan's ears blush, the parts he understood anyway. There were a couple of things he was going to have to ask Eric about later. He would have asked Sophia or one of the ladies from the Look Inn, but their explanations always seemed to be far more embarrassing then the original questions themselves.
A man jumped out from one of the adjoining market streets to crouch next to Tristan. It had initially startled him, but he was determined not to look scared. The man hadn't made any sounds, he just stared. Like most revelers, he was wearing a mask. Tristan hadn't seen that particular one before though. It was much like the raven masks worn for other holidays, but the corners of the eyes curled up in cruel mirth and the long nose ended in a blunt, rounded cock head, instead of a pointed down turned beak. The tip of it hovered barely an inch from Tristan's cheek, but he refused to show how unnerved he was by the situation. Occasionally out of the corner of his eye, he looked at the man staring at him to double check to see if he was still there. Tristan feared actually looking back at the man would only encourage him and he strongly believed if he just ignored him, he would go away.
It wasn't working. If anything, the man was staring more intently and closer. Tristan drummed his fingers on his leg and stared fiercely out in front of him, concentrating on the bright colors of the dancers, and looking for details of the carefully crafted paper and flower garlands they were throwing around.
The masked man finally spoke. “You know if you keep making that face, it'll get stuck that way.”
Tristan frowned. He turned and looked at his tormentor. The groan he made when he recognized Eric's very distinctively lapelled leather jacket was reminiscent of a dying cow.
“You need to lighten up a little,” Eric said as he pushed his mask up onto his head, making his face visible. “You were studying the decorating of the giant phallus so hard, I thought you were going to crack.”
“I don't get it,” Tristan admitted as he laid back and looked up at the sky.
“What's to get? It's a giant wooden penis.”
“But why are they decorating it?”
“To ensure a bountiful year.” Eric's singsong tone was obviously mocking. The sour look Tristan turned towards him made him laugh lightly. “Because tourists like something slightly shocking to tell their friends back home about.”
“But why a brand new one every year?”
Tristan looked painfully perplexed at Eric, who let out a mildly pitying sigh. “Because it's wet and wood rots and it gives people something to talk about. Here I got you a present.” Eric started jabbing Tristan in the cheek with his gift.
Tristan reached up to take the gift from Eric's hand. It resulted in a minor tug of war, which Tristan won. His gift was a wood carving of a penis about the size of his pinky finger with large curved wings.
“What exactly do I do with this?” After a few moments with no response, Tristan turned to look to see what was making Eric so quiet and wished he hadn't.
The winged phalloi in Tristan's hand was apparently not the only one Eric had bought that day. Eric was busy waggling his tongue in between two curved phalli that seemed to be looking at each other and met at the base. It had tiny feet protruding from is balls.
“Eric!”
Tristan's outburst only made Eric grin while he continued to poke his tongue in and out of his new little toy.
“You're going to choke on that if you keep it up.”
“I haven't managed to choke on that thing between your legs yet, so I'm thinking these little guys are pretty safe.”
Tristan prayed the ground would open wide and swallow him up whole. He was interrupted by Eric grabbing his arm and hauling him off the ground to stand.
“Come on. Let's go see if there are any doughnuts left.” Eric looked at him hopefully with his mask still perched on top of his head.
Doughnuts sounded good. Tristan was beginning to love them after his first discovery of their existence a couple months ago. He followed Eric a few feet and then stopped. “They're penis shaped doughnuts, aren't they?”
“Of course!”
Comments I received atmadrona_project:
"You're welcome, Kat!
*LOVED it* :D"
"Oh morning coffee was never so fun! XD Now, I really want a penis-shaped donut. Extra glaze on the glans, please ;D
These two are cute and I loved the Spring fertility fest (combined with the ever-practical tourist attraction) elements. I especially loved the light-hearted vibe combined with the slightest little uber-creepy touch, here and there... like Eric's mask and his space-invader staring. Great job, Kat! Loved it!"
Author: Kat
World: Licentia
Main Characters: Eric & Tristan
Borrow: No
Words: 811
Summary: Tristan tries to understand one of the festivals of his adopted homeland. Eric enjoys tormenting the poor naive man.
A/N: Thanks for pinking, Kira. Liberalia, Mars 17: Favored artisans have been hard at work creating a large phallus to decorate the city center. On this day, the large phallus is carted it through the countryside and into the city. Once erected, the phallus is decorated by local women and visitors alike to ensure a bountiful year. Masks are also hung on fences, and crude songs are sung during the procession. Come join us! Small souvenir phalluses are available from most local merchants as well as small wooden phallic animals. They are very popular.
A/N2: Originally posted at
madrona_projectTristan sat at the edge of the road, facing the city center. He tilted his head to one side until his hair brushed his shoulder and stared. Finding that it still didn't make any sense, he tried tilting his head the other way. Most people ignored him as they danced around, drunkenly singing songs that made the tips of Tristan's ears blush, the parts he understood anyway. There were a couple of things he was going to have to ask Eric about later. He would have asked Sophia or one of the ladies from the Look Inn, but their explanations always seemed to be far more embarrassing then the original questions themselves.
A man jumped out from one of the adjoining market streets to crouch next to Tristan. It had initially startled him, but he was determined not to look scared. The man hadn't made any sounds, he just stared. Like most revelers, he was wearing a mask. Tristan hadn't seen that particular one before though. It was much like the raven masks worn for other holidays, but the corners of the eyes curled up in cruel mirth and the long nose ended in a blunt, rounded cock head, instead of a pointed down turned beak. The tip of it hovered barely an inch from Tristan's cheek, but he refused to show how unnerved he was by the situation. Occasionally out of the corner of his eye, he looked at the man staring at him to double check to see if he was still there. Tristan feared actually looking back at the man would only encourage him and he strongly believed if he just ignored him, he would go away.
It wasn't working. If anything, the man was staring more intently and closer. Tristan drummed his fingers on his leg and stared fiercely out in front of him, concentrating on the bright colors of the dancers, and looking for details of the carefully crafted paper and flower garlands they were throwing around.
The masked man finally spoke. “You know if you keep making that face, it'll get stuck that way.”
Tristan frowned. He turned and looked at his tormentor. The groan he made when he recognized Eric's very distinctively lapelled leather jacket was reminiscent of a dying cow.
“You need to lighten up a little,” Eric said as he pushed his mask up onto his head, making his face visible. “You were studying the decorating of the giant phallus so hard, I thought you were going to crack.”
“I don't get it,” Tristan admitted as he laid back and looked up at the sky.
“What's to get? It's a giant wooden penis.”
“But why are they decorating it?”
“To ensure a bountiful year.” Eric's singsong tone was obviously mocking. The sour look Tristan turned towards him made him laugh lightly. “Because tourists like something slightly shocking to tell their friends back home about.”
“But why a brand new one every year?”
Tristan looked painfully perplexed at Eric, who let out a mildly pitying sigh. “Because it's wet and wood rots and it gives people something to talk about. Here I got you a present.” Eric started jabbing Tristan in the cheek with his gift.
Tristan reached up to take the gift from Eric's hand. It resulted in a minor tug of war, which Tristan won. His gift was a wood carving of a penis about the size of his pinky finger with large curved wings.
“What exactly do I do with this?” After a few moments with no response, Tristan turned to look to see what was making Eric so quiet and wished he hadn't.
The winged phalloi in Tristan's hand was apparently not the only one Eric had bought that day. Eric was busy waggling his tongue in between two curved phalli that seemed to be looking at each other and met at the base. It had tiny feet protruding from is balls.
“Eric!”
Tristan's outburst only made Eric grin while he continued to poke his tongue in and out of his new little toy.
“You're going to choke on that if you keep it up.”
“I haven't managed to choke on that thing between your legs yet, so I'm thinking these little guys are pretty safe.”
Tristan prayed the ground would open wide and swallow him up whole. He was interrupted by Eric grabbing his arm and hauling him off the ground to stand.
“Come on. Let's go see if there are any doughnuts left.” Eric looked at him hopefully with his mask still perched on top of his head.
Doughnuts sounded good. Tristan was beginning to love them after his first discovery of their existence a couple months ago. He followed Eric a few feet and then stopped. “They're penis shaped doughnuts, aren't they?”
“Of course!”
Comments I received at
madrona_project:"You're welcome, Kat!
*LOVED it* :D"
"Oh morning coffee was never so fun! XD Now, I really want a penis-shaped donut. Extra glaze on the glans, please ;D
These two are cute and I loved the Spring fertility fest (combined with the ever-practical tourist attraction) elements. I especially loved the light-hearted vibe combined with the slightest little uber-creepy touch, here and there... like Eric's mask and his space-invader staring. Great job, Kat! Loved it!"
