[ Pickles sits outside of the haunted house, looking up at the building while sitting on the ground. His fur has lost its sheen with a lot more white patches. His indigo eyes also look dead. When he turns to see Ichiban, he doesn't bark and there's no hostility, but his eyes aren't the only things that are dead tonight. It feels as if there's something haunting him in particular. ]
ichiban doesn't hesitate to plop right down next to pickles as soon as he sees him, making himself comfortable (or, as comfortable as he can) on the dirt. for a few moments, he simply looks into pickles's eyes, sees the glassy and desolate mood in them... and extends his arm, palm up.
[ Pickles looks down at Ichiban's hand for a long while before he slowly extends his own paw, cold and bony-like, on top of his. Dogs do not cry in the emotional sense, but Pickles has a soft and high-pitched whine that mimics a dog's cry. ]
once pickles reciprocates and whimpers, ichiban curls his fingers around the dog's paw, enveloping it in the warmth of his hand. he just lets it stay there for a while before he adjusts his position and crosses his legs. ]
You can sit in my lap, if you want. [ beat ] If that's... not too weird for you or anything.
[ what is appropriate behavior for comforting a talking dog ]
[ The puppy says it is not a lap dog, but can do other things.
Such as lying down on the ground and putting his head on Ichiban's lap. This man is really warm. It's like being next to a cozy fire source. Pickles seems to relax. ]
[ he's a big space heater, it's true... he can't help but let out a quiet laugh as pickles curls up to him, because man, it really does make it hit home that pickles is a literal dog. life is wild.
for a moment, he's about to place a hand on the dog's head, but remembers what he had said previously about not liking pets... so, he lets it settle along pickles's back, gently ruffling the fur there instead. ]
[ Pickles is fine with pets, but just prefers handshakes more. When Ichiban pets his back, Pickles lets out a satisfied breathe of air.
The puppy says many things happened over time that felt like it was longer than a month. The puppy got into a fight with its owner when it returned home shortly. ]
[ Pickles is padding out of the Barks & Waffles store, looking thoroughly pleased because of the books and food and sees Ichiban. He barks and goes over to him, but then there are shadows that kidnap Ichiban and Pickles into a small dark pocket dimension. Pickles is gone, but Ichiban will now witness the following: ]
Charlton: Part 1[ In London of the 1960s, the traditional close-knit family gradually fell behind the mainstream, while pets started to play a more important role in the bonding between family members. More and more people went into the bustling pet stores to find a fluffy, energetic new member for the family. Compared to all other pets, there is no doubt that the welcoming puppies were the most popular one. They would walk in circle around you while wagging their tails, rub their teeth against your legs, bark to call for the frisbee or ball in your hand. Apparently, no one could resist such temptation.
There are always loners, however, even among the social puppies in the most professional kennel. That black-and-white figure hid himself at the rear of the cage, his eyes piercing through the jagged crimson bars and the busy crowd to reach some corner outside the window which no one noticed. He liked being alone, but he didn't like being lonely. A small puppy barely at a month old sits by himself in the corner of the back of the cage. He thinks about how fast his fellow brethren are taken from the kennels, and his mother eventually left as well. A puppy with no energy would look sick, and no one wanted to adopt a dog that was sick (he wasn't sick). Even then, he found himself at peace that no one would bother him.
"Hey buddy!"
A pair of rough hands interrupted his tranquility. The owner of those hands rubbed his neck and chin intimately as if they were close friends in reunion.
"Look at this little philosopher with deep eyes. You are the most special dog I've ever seen."
He also memorized the face of the man by heart. The man's name was Charlton and as he introduced himself, he carried the small puppy in his hands, cradling him lovingly. The puppy melted into the warmth.
Before he put his front paws onto that grey-and-white window at registration, his friend in red and white shirt just carefully wiped a pair of goggles and put it around him.
[ it takes ichiban by surprise, at first, but—you know what? this may as well happen. sure, he'll experience a doggy flashback, he's a flexible sort of guy.
watching baby pickles, he can't help but smile—it almost reminds him of himself, in a way. having all the other kids go home after school with their parents, with him taking off on his own to walk back to a brothel because his adoptive father opened for business as soon as he was released from school... yeah, okay, it's admittedly kind of a stretch, but. the point is, he gets that loneliness, that longing for somewhere to belong.
and then, being scooped into that man's hands, making himself comfortable in the safety of his arms... once the memory fades away and he's met with the pickles of today, he crouches down and holds out his hand, as has become their custom in these past couple of weeks. ]
Pickles, was that... your owner? [ beat ] Is that what you think of him as? Never really thought of that from the pet's point of view...
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w1 thursday post-cyoa
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ichiban doesn't hesitate to plop right down next to pickles as soon as he sees him, making himself comfortable (or, as comfortable as he can) on the dirt. for a few moments, he simply looks into pickles's eyes, sees the glassy and desolate mood in them... and extends his arm, palm up.
shake? ]
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no subject
once pickles reciprocates and whimpers, ichiban curls his fingers around the dog's paw, enveloping it in the warmth of his hand. he just lets it stay there for a while before he adjusts his position and crosses his legs. ]
You can sit in my lap, if you want. [ beat ] If that's... not too weird for you or anything.
[ what is appropriate behavior for comforting a talking dog ]
no subject
... Woo.
[ The puppy says it is not a lap dog, but can do other things.
Such as lying down on the ground and putting his head on Ichiban's lap. This man is really warm. It's like being next to a cozy fire source. Pickles seems to relax. ]
no subject
for a moment, he's about to place a hand on the dog's head, but remembers what he had said previously about not liking pets... so, he lets it settle along pickles's back, gently ruffling the fur there instead. ]
Would it help to talk about what happened or nah?
no subject
The puppy says many things happened over time that felt like it was longer than a month. The puppy got into a fight with its owner when it returned home shortly. ]
w2 monday
Charlton: Part 1
[ In London of the 1960s, the traditional close-knit family gradually fell behind the mainstream, while pets started to play a more important role in the bonding between family members. More and more people went into the bustling pet stores to find a fluffy, energetic new member for the family. Compared to all other pets, there is no doubt that the welcoming puppies were the most popular one. They would walk in circle around you while wagging their tails, rub their teeth against your legs, bark to call for the frisbee or ball in your hand. Apparently, no one could resist such temptation.There are always loners, however, even among the social puppies in the most professional kennel. That black-and-white figure hid himself at the rear of the cage, his eyes piercing through the jagged crimson bars and the busy crowd to reach some corner outside the window which no one noticed. He liked being alone, but he didn't like being lonely. A small puppy barely at a month old sits by himself in the corner of the back of the cage. He thinks about how fast his fellow brethren are taken from the kennels, and his mother eventually left as well. A puppy with no energy would look sick, and no one wanted to adopt a dog that was sick (he wasn't sick). Even then, he found himself at peace that no one would bother him.
"Hey buddy!"
A pair of rough hands interrupted his tranquility. The owner of those hands rubbed his neck and chin intimately as if they were close friends in reunion.
"Look at this little philosopher with deep eyes. You are the most special dog I've ever seen."
He also memorized the face of the man by heart. The man's name was Charlton and as he introduced himself, he carried the small puppy in his hands, cradling him lovingly. The puppy melted into the warmth.
Before he put his front paws onto that grey-and-white window at registration, his friend in red and white shirt just carefully wiped a pair of goggles and put it around him.
"Name... I'll call you Pickles!"
It was an ordinary day, until now. ]
no subject
watching baby pickles, he can't help but smile—it almost reminds him of himself, in a way. having all the other kids go home after school with their parents, with him taking off on his own to walk back to a brothel because his adoptive father opened for business as soon as he was released from school... yeah, okay, it's admittedly kind of a stretch, but. the point is, he gets that loneliness, that longing for somewhere to belong.
and then, being scooped into that man's hands, making himself comfortable in the safety of his arms... once the memory fades away and he's met with the pickles of today, he crouches down and holds out his hand, as has become their custom in these past couple of weeks. ]
Pickles, was that... your owner? [ beat ] Is that what you think of him as? Never really thought of that from the pet's point of view...
feel free to drop since it's been too long!
The memory fades with the real Pickles dog coming into the picture and he holds his hand out to put it on Ichiban's. ]
... Woo.
[ The puppy says Charlton, its owner, was a very good owner until recently. ]