bottom of [P, LEFOU] the deep blue sea

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    Once upon a time there was a beast, a girl, and a beautiful man. The girl was in love with the beast, and the man in love with the girl, so, as any man would do, the beautiful man tried to kill the beast. Now, some would say that this man had been a villain -- and he would now begrudgingly agree to that after these events came to pass. After attempting to kill the beast and in turn be thrown off a cliff by said beast, the villain died. Or so they said. It would only be known many, many years later that this man was alive, though it could not be said that he was still a man.

    Lefou, LeFou, LeFou. Where are you?

    A canine's black nose popped around a corner, inhaling the scents of the jungle around it. The beauceron had been searching for days, perhaps even weeks, he wasn't really keeping track. Being the greatest hunter ever had its perks, but being as he wasn't even sure to begin or if the person he was searching for was even alive. LeFou was his only escape now. The beast had killed him and now he was the beast.

    Brown paws, black claws, black face, black fur. The villain was now a beast, though he wasn't exactly as beastly as the one before him -- more man's best friend than horned giant. But it still make him feel odd, even after all these days. He was supposed to be human. He was supposed to hunt things with fur -- not become them. Exhaling softly the supposed villain found himself on a sand beach, rather close to a tropical island. LeFou was no where to be found.

    What a hunter I am.

    The beauceron growled to his himself, kicking the sand before him into the expanse of salt water before him.

    They're all dead and I'm in a mad dream.

    Everyone he'd known. Everyone who cherished him. Everyone who he disliked. And LeFou, of course. The fool. After the now canine's descent into a seemingly bottomless chasm he shouldn't have been here, in a jungle. France didn't have any jungles. And jungles didn't have anyone he knew. The faint traces of his friend seemed like phantoms within the forest, as the beauceron couldn't remember himself ever sniffing LeFou before nevertheless remembering his scent; it was simply instinctual to find the small man. He would take care of things, though the canine wasn't sure LeFou was in any need of a dog; but, no one would be able to deny a dog as great as him either way.

    Feeling small splashes of water upon his newly found paws the canine looked up to see a number of gray rainclouds gather in the sky.

    Rain on my parade, why don't you?

    This sucked.


    LEFOU.

    It wasn't long before the ever so chipper clumsy man had found his way over. He was usually on top of meeting new people inside their territory or at the border. "... Excuse me, monsieur, you're in Riverclan territory. Are you lost?--" It was LeFou. Undoubtedly so. Not just because of his scent or the fact he was wearing Gaston's red coat-- that voice of his could be recognized a mile away it was so distinguishable. A perk of it sounding so strange he supposed. But as the bulldog came closer he would freeze part way, his body suddenly feeling cold as eyes. Chills. This dog's scent reminded him of Gaston. Was he losing his mind, finally? Had he hurt his head that badly after he'd been attacked and captured a week ago? "... Gaston?" he'd muster out almost in disbelief, his voice tightening with indescribable emotion. He had to be mistaking this poor guy. Gaston was dead. He was missing Gaston so much that he was imagining things. It was probably a coincidence, right?

    'Excuse me, monsieur, you're in Riverclan territory. Are you lost?--'

    Who was this guy and why was he speaking... English? The beauceron didn't exactly know what the language was, but there were a few familiar bits, and something else, the way he spoke.

    Not having enough time to turn himself to face the newest stranger the canine's ears and whole posture perked as he heard his own name being called. That had struck a cord. This was LeFou. Snapping quickly to look towards LeFou the canine couldn't see him -- that was until he looked a little lower.

    "LeFou...?," the canine breathed out with a look of confusion on his maw. LeFou was tiny little dog. With his coat! How in the world had he gotten that?

    "Pourquoi es-tu un petit chien?," that was a stupid question, even he could admit that. After all, he was a dog as well. "Et pourquoi as-tu ma veste?," his voice growing a bit louder and accusatory after his last statement. After all, LeFou would have had to have pried the thing off of his dead body if he'd wanted it so bad.

    Always knew I had good taste.

    He had to admit, though, the red vest did look rather nice on LeFou.



    //*noms* sorry if my french is a lil' bad. haven't used any in a while. also, sorry for the sort of sketchy coloring -- i'm on mobile and it's always so finicky.


    The French. That voice. That was Gaston. Okay this was... wow. LeFou looked faint, as if he was trying his absolute hardest to remain on his tiny little feet without falling over. How? How was this possible? "Pourquoi suis-je un chien? Je pourrais vous demander la même chose. Non ... je pourrais vous demander comment vous êtes ici ... vous êtes mort!" (why am i a dog? I could ask you the same thing. no... i could ask you how you're here-- you-- you died!) Then even more thoughts flooded into his head. He suddenly tensed, tears threatening to sting his eyes as he stared the man down, clenching his jaw a bit. "dernière fois que je t'ai vu, tu m'as menacé. Vous ... m'avez menace." (the last time i saw you, you threatened me. you... threatened me.). Sure Gaston had pushed him around and teased him plenty of times in the past. And that was all fine but... threatening him was a different story all together. Did Gaston really find him that disposable? LeFou loved him to the ends of the Earth but... had Gaston simply treated their friendship like a rag? Did he even consider them friends? He had no idea the other French man had been looking all over for him. But all of these thoughts faded out of his mind when Gaston asked about the jaket, his eyes widened, the look on his face falling into a more stunned one. His cheeks felt warm with a blush, quickly struggling to take it off. The serious tone he'd taken melted away. He was back to his usual self around him. Trying his best to make Gaston happy at extreme lengths. "je suis désolé. Je l'ai juste trouvé et ... j'ai pensé que ce serait un bon moyen de vous rappeler par ..." (i am sorry. i just found it and... i thought it would be a good way to remember you by...). Saying it out loud made him realize how embarrassing that actually was, and made him wince. He'd been in deep mourning over his death for so long.


    (ooc- lol that's okay I use google translate so my French is probably way worse. I added translations in the posts though! ^^)

    He didn't look so good, though Gaston certainly wouldn't interfere if the little guy fell unconscious from shock. Well, maybe. Though Gaston wouldn't blame him -- despite his standard that shock and fear were weaknesses, he too would be shocked and a bit afraid if LeFou showed up after being dead for as long as Gaston had.

    His thoughts on fear, though, were soon cut off by the tone of LeFou's voice drastically changing.

    He's angry. With me.

    That never happened.

    Are you sure he's LeFou?

    Positive.

    He had threatened LeFou. Of course he had. So blind with rage and jealousy he'd practically forgotten about his little companion. The pained words coming from the canine before him struck a cord deep within the canine. He'd never kill LeFou.

    Would I?

    The large male's brow scrunched in question, seemingly being towards the accusation. How could he avoid the subject? That was his first question. LeFou was all he had now, because Belle wouldn't want a dog even if she was still around, and the very last words he'd said to him were a threat.

    He just needs to suck it up, get over it.

    Gaston let out a short exhale through his now much longer nose. At least LeFou had changed the subject for him. The sentiment his counterpart seemed to find in the jacket was a bit foolish, but he'd allow it; after all, LeFou had worn the thing in his memory -- a bit flattering, no? Rolling his light blue eyes Gaston held out a fur-covered paw and motioned for LeFou to stop, "J'avais des objectifs que vous gêniez. Mais, c'est fini maintenant. Ne dérange pas, ça ne me va pas de toute façon," (I had goals that you were getting in the way of. But, that over now. Don't bother, it wouldn't fit me anyways) spoke the hunter nonchalantly as he began to motion for the bulldog to put his red coat on once more.

    Couldn't catch my biggest game either way so what's the point of a hunter's jacket?

    He wondered if he'd still look quite as handsome without it. What were dog's beauty standards, anyways?


    LeFou's face would fall a bit, the French man resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, this was same old Gaston. He had died learning his lesson the hard way after trying to take the Beast away from Belle and look at him now. He was still just as rude and stubborn as always. It wasn't much of a surprise he did not learn his lesson, Gaston never was the brightest man. The bulldog didn't know whether to smack him across the face or hug him. Both sounded good right about now. Knowing that neither decision would end well, he would resist the urge to do either. His face suddenly softened, a tiny smirk finally appearing on his lips, no longer looking so angry. "J'aurais cru que tu aimerais que je mets ta veste. Cela montre à tous que je vous appartient." (i would have thought you would like me to wear your jacket. It shows everyone that I belong to you.) the words were flirtatious, though they were not a surprise coming from LeFou to Gaston. He could flirt all day and Gaston was too oblvious to realize that was what he was doing. Oh, LeFou, you are the best. Why has no girl snatched you up yet? He would wince to himself at the memory of those words. God was he so dense and clueless. Despite this he would approach the larger canine. "Maintenant que vous êtes de retour, nous pouvons tous revenir à être ensemble comme les anciens." (Now that you are back, the two of us can get back to being together like old times.) No Belle for him to try and woo. Just the two of them hanging out and hunting like old times.

    True. Very true.

    But LeFou had always been his, right?

    Hearing the words only bolstered his ego a bit more, his chest now puffed up a near unnoticeable amount.

    He always knows the best things to say.

    Now that every last inch of his was literally covered in hair Gaston had no need for the coat either way. And as LeFou had so nicely pointed it out, the coat was nearly like a sign of ownership. And that was always comforting. LeFou had to be by far the best thing he owned. Helpful. Didn't get in his way too often. The list could go on for miles.

    Now that he was contented his usual smirk sat upon his features once more.

    Just like good the good old days.

    Except that they were dogs. And he had no idea where they even were. He knew France didn't have any jungles, or at least they hadn't the last time he'd checked.

    "Bien sûr. Dites-," his voice lowered a bit,"-où sommes-nous exactement?," (of course. say - where exactly are we?) the jungle was not a place for any french canine. There could be lions, tigers, and god help them all bears. Well, no, on second thought he'd much rather see them and kill them. That would be something impressive to see. He'd killed mountain lions before, not tigers, but certainly a few bears. Bears had always been the most impressive, though. God how he wished he still had his decor.



    "Cet endroit s'appelle Riverclan. Je vis ici aussi bien que dans Windclan, ce sont eux deux très bons endroits pour vivre. En fait, j'ai chassé avec succès des cerfs aux deux endroits." (This place is called Riverclan. I have been living here as well as in Windclan, they are both very nice places to live. In fact, I've sucessfully hunted deer in both places.) He figured sharing that bit of information might convince him to stay in either (or even better, both) places. Perhaps as roommates. He could not imagine Gaston getting along well on his own, especially not hear. LeFou had been the one to do everything for him the past; cook, buy eggs, assist him in grabbing his guns, paying for drinks-- and now they were animals he figured he would like even more assistance. Hell, since Gaston could only speak French he doubted he would be able to get along well here on his own anyways.

    What kind of name was RiverClan and WindClan? Did these animals name everything after some unliving object? Was there a ChairClan?

    Letting out a small chuckle at the thought Gaston grew even giddier at the mention of dear. So, there was life here. Things to kill, things to eat. They were set.

    Though RiverClan sounded a bit sketchy, especially considering the sort of tribal-sounding name of Clan, Gaston was certain he could settle right in. After all, he'd be the biggest predator... right? If LeFou and him were both dogs than the rest had to be too, right?

    "Encore mieux. Alors, où est-ce que je m'inscris?," (Even better. So, where do I sign up?) asked Gaston inquisitively as he looked side-to-side. All there was was jungle. He could only hope they had actual homes sitting around -- though he'd never witnessed a canine building a house. Perhaps LeFou would whip something up for them.



    "Vous n'avez pas besoin de vous inscrire, vous venez de vous joinder." (you do not need to sign up, you just ask to join.) Yup. He would be lost without him there translating and guiding him through clan life. Good thing he actually managed to track LeFou down. Noticing him look around, he seemed to figure he was trying to figure things out on his own. "J'ai déjà un endroit qui est meublé et tout, si vous voulez m'entendre avec moi là-bas." (i already have a place that's furnished and everything in both clans if you would like to room with me there.) Well... sort of furnished. Small things like dressers and teapots? Yeah he was sort of scared of them now. The Beast's castle took quite a number on his mental health, he was quite afraid of most pieces of furniture now. "Voulez-vous que je m'assure de devenir member?" (would you like me to make sure you become a member?) Yup, he had a feeling not many people were going to get along with him, but LeFou would protect him and... at least attempt to make sure he did not manage to get himself killed somehow.

    Ah, so he could just join. And LeFou already had a place! The canine let out a little sigh of relief.

    Less work there, then.

    Gaston couldn't really understand LeFou's fear of household items. Cause, the silverware talked but that didn't mean it was dangerous. He could beat up any old piano anytime he wanted to. Though, seeing as not all pianos were haunted he didn't really need to. He'd beat up any pianos he saw for Lefou's sake, though.

    "Bon travail, Lefou," (good job, lefou) the canine complimented with a bit of flourish. "Déjà tout réglé. Ce serait génial. Après tout, ne peut pas les garder en attente," (already everything settled. that would be great. after all, can't keep them waiting) spoke Gaston as he picked himself up from the sand, shook out his fur and starting walking towards the jungle despite not knowing the way. He'd get himself killed again one way or another.


    //now i see why google translate is a necessity ;-;


    LeFou watched with widening eyes, already feeling his heart plummet. If he did not somehow manage to bring himself into danger, he'd probably amost kill LeFou instead with how scared he had him all the time. "Oh god, don't do this to me, Gaston, you're going to give me an early heart attack..." the bulldog would whisper to himself in distress before scrambling after the bigger dog. "Gaston! Gaston, Vous allez dans le mauvais sens. Je pense que vous devriez rester à mes côtés jusqu'à ce que vous vous habituez sur le territoire." (you're going the wrong way. I think you should stay by my side until you get used to the territory.) This was not their little town in France, this was a dangerous place full of animals that could harm them if they took one wrong step. "Juste s'il vous plaît ne prenez pas comme ça sans aucun avertissement ..." (Just please do not take off like that without any warning...) It was pretty obvious how panicked that had made the poor bulldog, his poor face almost comically tense with worry.


    (ooc- would you like me to make Gaston's joining thread or would you prefer to make it yourself? ^^)


    Seeing Lefou's worried face Gaston rolled his eyes and let out a sarcastic laugh. "Alors? Qu'y a-t-il là-bas que je ne peux pas simplement tuer?," (so? what's out there that i couldn't just kill?) spoke the canine as he continued to march on, not bothering to slow down the pace for his companion despite his much larger strides. He hadn't before and he wouldn't now.

    Like always he'd charge stupidly for whatever he wanted and would ignore the warning signs. After all, he was a man who could handle anything. Well, a dog that could handle anything. The incident with the beast had been a one-time thing.

    Watching as the clothed male fell behind Gaston let out an exasperated sigh, "Cela signifie-t-il que je dois vous transporter aussi?," (does this mean i have to carry you too?) the beauceron inquired with a flick of his slightly curled tail.


    // oh, no, i'll make it :). i'll @ ya when it's done. might wait till mornin', though cause i need sleep x-x


    Unimpressed and not the least bit surprised when the Frenh man began to insist he was an unbeatable force (despite having come back from the dead) LeFou would sigh and begin to look away until-- Woah woah woah, hold the horses. There was an option for Gaston to carry him? Of course he could walk on his own, he was used to it... but if there was once in a life time opportunity for this to happen, he would take it gladly. It wasn't every day your crush offered to carry you around. Especially when they were as big of a jerk as this man was. So LeFou would take the offer. Even it meant he had to put on the clumsy, stupid façade for him. "Le fait de me porter serait facile pour vous." (Carrying me would be easy for you.) he'd point out with a small pouty look. "Je ne pense pas que mes jambes minuscules pourraient faire tout le chemin. S'il vous plait?" (i don't think my tiny legs could make it all the way. Please?) he'd step forward so he was standing close to him, his soft brown eyes big and sweet looking.


    (ooc- alright that sounds good bc I am probably going to bed soon myself lmao. thank you! ^^)

    "Bien sûr. Pour qui me prends-tu?," (of course it would be. who do you think i am?) spoke the canine with a shake of head.

    Weak.

    Why would he come out here if he couldn't get back? The comment in his head he knew would not be in the least appreciated by LeFou, as it hadn't last time, so he'd simply keep it to himself. They didn't need the melodramatics and it wasn't his goal to get LeFou all emotional afternoon just finding out that he was alive.

    Lowering himself to the ground Gaston nudged his counterpart up and onto his back.

    Have I ever done this before?

    No, of course not, he'd never carry LeFou around. Well, at least not until now. Those big brown eyes were practically hypnotic if anyone asked Gaston.

    Lifting himself from the ground and attempting to keep the bulldog on his back at the same time wouldn't have been so much of a feat if it hadn't of been his first time giving a practical piggy-back ride to someone.

    God, he couldn't let anyone see them like this. What would they think? Gaston exhaled rather loudly as he made it to his feet. He wasn't sure where to go; but, he wouldn't dare ask.


    // no need to thank me xD. good night~ :)


    LeFou could tell the other man appeared a bit irritated he took the offer that he probably spoke as a joke initially. The nurse did a good job of keeping himself from falling off his back, making it less difficult for the other dog. This was nice. He could get used to this. Did he expect Gaston to ever make this offer again? Goodness no. But he would enjoy it as much as possible for as long as he could. "Savez-vous comment vous êtes arrivé ici? comment m'as tu trouvé?" (do you know how you got here? how did you find me?) LeFou would ask curious, resting his head up against the other man's back peacefully. It was way too much of a coincidence that he managed to just accidentally bump into him. Had he been actually looking for him?

    How he got here.

    "Je-," well, he didn't actually know. He died, and then he woke up again in some kind of forest with paws and claws. Had a bit of a panic and then started moving along looking for someone or something he knew. And for some reason he knew LeFou had been out there.

    "Je ne sais pas," (i don't know) he spoke in a low, nearly questioning voice, which gave away the fact that he did actually know a bit about the questions asked. He wouldn't admit to the fact that he'd been looking for LeFou despite the fact that it would have bolstered his ego to tell the small canine how they'd come to meet. LeFou should have been flattered that he was the first thing Gaston thought of when he first awoke.

    Keeping a good pace towards wherever LeFou was leading them Gaston looked about the place in suspicion. It just didn't look the same now that LeFou was here with him. He wondered if it was just a dream, a hallucination.



    "Est-ce que tout va bien?" (is everything alright?) He'd ask, slowly raising his head as Gaston stopped to look around with narrowed eyes. Perhaps it would be best to take things slow. One thing at a time. Perhaps he could show him where he lived? "Voulez-vous voir notre maison et s'installer?" (would you like to see our home and get settled in?) or better yet... "Ou peut-être pouvons-nous arrêter de partir à la chasse?" (Or perhaps we could stop to go hunting?) That always seemed to make Gaston happy. Well, that and thinking about violence.


    "Je vais bien," (i'm fine) spoke Gaston with a little shake of his fur-covered head. Everything seemed so much clearer now that he was a canine. The air was crisper, his sight enhanced, and his sense of smell was practically a miracle.

    At the mention of hunting the beauceron's tail started to wag slightly.

    How do I stop that?

    The damn tail was such a nuisance. It always seemed to convey his emotions when he didn't want it to.

    "La chasse semble beaucoup mieux que de s'installer," (hunting seems much better than settling in) declared the canine with an excited glint in his eyes, pausing to look around towards LeFou.

    "Voudrais-toi?," (would you?) Gaston inquired, leaving the statement open-ended.

    Whatever they caught could be a kind of peace offering to the the group of animals they were sure to meet. He simply wondered if they'd accidentally kill someone LeFou knew. Well, it wasn't really his problem, anyways.




    LeFou was unable to hide a small giggle as he noticed the tail wagging, quickly slapping his paw over his mouth to try and stop it. It did not work. He was still laughing. He was obviously not laughing at Gaston, rather he found it... adorable. Yeah that was definitely not something Gaston would like to hear. "Faisons le." (let's do it.) he would say enthusiastically, more than eager to lead the way for him. "Avez-vous déjà essayé de chasser? C'est très différent de l'utilisation d'armes à feu." (Have you tried hunting yet? It's a lot different from using guns.) A new thought entered his mind. Was he going to have to teach the other man how to hunt? How interesting that would be. Sure LeFou was a fairly good hunter himself when he'd been human-- but Gaston? He had been the master. The best of the best. Now he had to learn all over again.