Gus
Accepted Character
Chump #1
Posts: 48
Full Name: Augustus Dunhall
Species: Pied Crow Shifter
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Birdverse (1970's)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
OOC Name: acorncap, Acorn
|
Post by Gus on Feb 3, 2014 7:09:24 GMT
Gus was fishing, in a sense of the term. He was fishing in the sense that he had a pole and a bit of fishing twine that he'd scavenged from a store that sold such things, along with bobbins and lures and what might be generously called 'worms' if you were a bit drunk and didn't mind worms being quite a bit more bitey than the earth variety. He'd tried one (He'd never been a worm sort of bird, he liked bugs with a bit more crunch to them.), but it had been so fetid and rotten that he couldn't really blame the fish for not biting.
He just needed time to think, he supposed. It was a task he'd been avoiding for a while. But things had recently gotten quite a bit more serious, and things he'd been struggling to hold as true were starting to grow thin and fall to pieces. He always expected these sort of odd revelations to come all at once, like some sort of big bang of understanding, but no. For him it had come in pieces, slowly seeping in until even his denial was nothing more than an embarrassing filter that needed to be tossed aside in favor of something else.
Gus was alive. That much he couldn't really deny anymore. He had a pulse. He had a need to breathe (A point which he tried to stubbornly prove by holding his breathe for quite some time. It didn't prove anything but it did give him a splitting headache.) He'd cut himself a little while back and he'd bled- the side of his thumb was still wrapped in gauze and twinged when he tried to move it.
But if he was alive, then something had gone wrong. Twice now he'd felt his heart stop, so he knew for a fact that he had died. He just hadn't stayed that way. He understood more than most the finality of death, so this upset in the natural order disturbed him more than the purple, flickering skies or the bizarre alien creatures he'd stumbled across. He remembered what Sam, the strange man he'd presumed to be of crane lineage (though he now doubted even that.) had said about their being in another world. It made sense, he supposed. In a comic-book sci-fi-radio-play sort of way that defied all sense of normalcy.
There was a numbness in his chest that was providing a fine buffer between himself and the part of him that rather wanted to break down and have a good cry about now. He could feel it coming, like an old sailor feels a storm on the horizon. Ironically enough there seemed to be a rumbling in the sky that signaled a very literal storm on it's way. There'd been a rather lot of them recently.
Gus currently sat with his legs kicked over the side of the river that ran through the city. He'd have to get up soon. He'd never much liked being caught in the rain. But for now he was just going to sit here and fish. In a sense of the term.
|
|
Lucia
New Member
Only sugar... darn.
Posts: 12
Full Name: Lucia
Species: European Pine Marten
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth #5062
Height: 5'7"
Weight: How rude! (120-ish pounds perhaps)
OOC Name: Jiggers
|
Post by Lucia on Feb 3, 2014 8:00:39 GMT
She just couldn't quite get up the nerve to kill herself. It would have solved so many problems. The loneliness. The aching. The hunger. Oh, gods, the hunger. Gnawing not at her stomach, but every muscle... her bones and blood begged for reprieve, her skin felt raw, every hair of fur was like a needle—but never the right needle.
She'd climbed the highest skyscraper and sat on the edge and looked down and thought about it, and then did it. Something in her made her back up first, get good speed; she later reasoned she didn't want to clip the side of the building. But instead, her leap brought her across the narrow street onto the roof of the next. A little scuffed up, but no worse than an average night. Should have picked the main street. By then it was too late, and her beating heart called for the distant forests. She'd climbed down the fire escape and went looking for it. Never really been a city marten, though. Two hours later she was right back in front of that towering devil of a building.
How do you kill an animal, when every molecule of that animal fights for survival? Fighting is the only thing it knows how to do. Survival isn't a goal, its a profession. Her body was another creature entirely. Her brain had no say in things. It was a lucid dream that didn't obey. She said: I will make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Her body would find the store, and she would come out with a carry-basket full of meats, eggs. Sometimes when she slept, she would race through the streets, wake up mid-flight, panic and careen into a wall. Other times she would just wake up long enough to enjoy the ride. She learned to take some pleasure in it, the wildness of it all. Living, breathing, biting.
She found a drug store, filled with mint M&Ms. Not helpful. She'd wondered if the chocolate would be poisonous enough. If it had been, she didn't find out. She'd lost two weeks in the haze, that or her eye-clock skipped again. Maybe she'd died, maybe she hadn't. Sometimes it felt like she was detoxing all over again.
Drowning hadn't gone so well either. The lust for air was too strong, lungs overpowered the will once again. So she floated on her back, letting the current take her. With relief she realised it would be a way out of the city. Her scarves and skirt drifted away from her body, and finding them distracting, she slid them off, save her favourite scarf, the orange and green one, and unlaced her girdle as well; her teats had shrunk long ago, perhaps before she'd been left in the city. Her tail, thick fur waterlogged, dragged beneath the surface, fish nibbling at it. It tickled, and the sky above sparkled in its pinkness. It was the closest she'd gotten to a proper trip since waking up. Just weightless enough to appreciate her own mass. Every dip and jiggle let the water glide over her fur, like soft paw pads, but everywhere around her. Her ears flicked and the spray glittered and took years to fall.
Then some dumb jerk threw a worm onto her face.
She didn't quite know what to make of that. She just stared balefully at the flabbergasted monkey-like animal staring at her as she floated by.
Then she lifted a paw and gave him the bird.
|
|
Gus
Accepted Character
Chump #1
Posts: 48
Full Name: Augustus Dunhall
Species: Pied Crow Shifter
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Birdverse (1970's)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
OOC Name: acorncap, Acorn
|
Post by Gus on Feb 5, 2014 4:18:34 GMT
He hadn't noticed the creature floating in the river until his absently re-cast lure landed on them. Gus shook his head and leaned over. No, he wasn't making it up, there was definitely something in the water. Some type of... giant otter? Otters floated on their backs, right? Though he didn't know them to be quite so large. The ones he'd seen at the zoo had been much smaller. (Though perhaps this was some sort of alien otter?) He raised a hand, brows still furrowed in confusion, and waved at them. "Sor-"
They flipped him off.
Gus made a noise of disapproval and dropped his hand. Well! "Was that really necessary?"
He reeled the line back in slowly. Even rude otters probably didn't deserve a fishhook up their nose. Absently, he wondered where they were going, if it was good for travel... anything, really, to take his mind off his own thoughts.
There was a low rumble in the distance. Maybe it was time to pack up after all. Get back to the library before the sky came raining down on him. Maybe stoke a fire with some of the books in gibberish and curl up with one of the few in English (Though the options were slim. He'd been trying to work his way through something titled 'The Delicious Tale', which proved to be the gripping story of several peas, carrots, mashed potatoes and onions discovering the power of friendship while being digested in excruciating detail. He'd found himself quietly apologizing to his crackers recently and wasn't entirely certain he wanted to finish it.)
|
|
Lucia
New Member
Only sugar... darn.
Posts: 12
Full Name: Lucia
Species: European Pine Marten
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth #5062
Height: 5'7"
Weight: How rude! (120-ish pounds perhaps)
OOC Name: Jiggers
|
Post by Lucia on Feb 5, 2014 16:44:01 GMT
Lucia took a moment to consider her response.
"Yes," she said. She began to turn over in the water—unfortunately for her, missing the ape's reaction to her ability to speak. She floundered a little, sinking once or twice before her limbs began marten-paddling strong enough to keep her nose above the surface.
With much snorting and gagging, she dredged herself up to the canal's cement wall. Her claws stretched, scrabbled, scraped, but found purchase. She rolled onto the wall, flipped onto her stomach, and made a beeline for Gus. Her fur draped down her sides, leaving a fleshy line of pink down her back. Leaving the water had taken half her size away.
She ignored him, mostly. Part of her was vaguely aware of his existence. The rest of her smelled something—it wasn't sure what that something was, but it had a hint of "edible", and a big stinking whiff of "gotta try it at least once to make sure."
She growled a little as she grabbed the container of worms, pried the lid off. One bit her paw; she bit its head off. Chewy. She grabbed more of them, stuffed them until they dripped from her chin, until they were gone.
She ravaged the colourful lures next. These proved indigestible, and squeaked between her teeth. She spat them out.
"Ugh. Vot der hell? Vot kind off bloody trick iss diss? Vort'less plastic... You!" she said, pointing her face at Gus. "Giff me more. More food! Good food!"
That was why he'd thrown the worm at her face, right? It was an offering, surely!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2014 19:18:02 GMT
Are they real? It's hard to tell -- always is. Hmm...supposing that I could say, all in all, they're at least partially imaginary.
They don't see me, standing just a short ways off, watching. True, their backs are to me, and the wind is shouting rather harshly, but still....
The air is strange here. Light, yet heavy. You can quite simply feel the water weighing it down, but the way the wind blows it, so strong, harsh, cold...it seems more like bitter biting breath than anything else -- airiness in numbness.
It's nice, really; cold, sure, but...soothing. The grasses are tall, brown; dormant, definitely. There's a thin layer of snow, and luckily I'm wearing some slippers...some cute, soft-furred, patchy, watery-eyed bun-buns-- uh.
Anyways-- the snow's untouched! Completely so. Even around them, there's no footprints, no marks, no visible disturbance whatsoever. They could be ghosts...but still, that's another brick of the house that I can just knock down -- another deciding factor in the belief that they can't possibly be one hundred percent real.
Then again, looking down...my own prints are a little, uh...not there. Well, they're /there/, just not all the way-- err...well, what I mean to say is, that it looks like...I'm... not always leaving prints--...?
Eyes on the snow, I take a couple steps, watching as they appear --and then disappear. Somewhat slowly, still swiftly; small white spots that slip over snow.
There isn't much light, and it seems to be gradually fading, like evening twilight. The sky's dark, but seems to be so all around, with no sunlit horizon in sight; dark gray and bumpy, swirling too, as the wind pushes the big, heavy cloud cover in several undetermined directions.
I look back at them again, still there, doing the same thing, the thing that they've been doing this whole time that I've been watching them.
Fishing.
In a lazy, listless way. Their fishing poles are wooden -- you could say "primitive" -- seeming to be nothing but long thin sticks with a white string attached to their ends. There's two poles, both of them stuck into the ground, pushed deeply into the muddy, slushy bank; they're angled upwards, towards the river, whose current seems to be picking up.
The lines have been cast, but I see no bobbers bobbing on the struggling surface; I'm guessing they've only metal hooks. The lines sway, following the river's flow; one of the two poles is tugging, as though a fish has been snagged by the hook, or the hook has got caught on something; and although one of them has their hands on that very same pole, they make no attempt to reel it in.
The two of them sit together, side-by-side, content. They move very little, merely seeming to relax. The snow wraps around them like a chilly blanket, the wind seems to pass over them.
I begin approaching them; they take no note. Behind them and between, I sit down, cross-legged, wincing a little; the snow nips me at first, but soon settles and allows.
One of them finally seems to notice, turning their head a tad, seeming to glance over their shoulder in my direction; soon enough they have returned focus on their companion, and they continue their idle chatter. I can't understand it; one of them, it sounds like birdlike chirps and rodent peeps, while the other talks only in what sounds to be merely breaths and bubbles.
I scoot forwards, reaching for one of them-- only to pull back. I don't want to bother...I'm fine, really; just watching. Sliding instead closer to the river, sitting right between the twin fishing rods, I lean forwards, gazing on at the river.
Rushing water, burbling and gurgling; there's no bubbles, no foam, but it moves so fast. Ice seems unable to form on it -- which, I suppose, it very well wouldn't anyways...the temperature, though low, still seems too high for big and new ice crystals.
Both sides of the river, which itself is winding and wide, are covered in the same snow, the same thinning pale grasses, the same barren creaky trees; a few leafy pines are mixed in, but so few and far between that I can hardly smell them at all. Instead, I'm stuck with the scents of wet -- mud and snow especially.
I watch a fish, scales glittering like pearls, as it leaps from the waters, wriggling in midair, then lands with a splash back in the water, and continues swimming on. Looking back at the pair close behind me, I notice their images.
A fish and an otter. The fish, golden orange -- like the sweet fruit -- sitting on its tail, which curls halfway around its lower body; its fins small and always moving, sometimes touching the pole as if to check to see if it can feel whether or not it's gotten any bites. The otter, same size as a child, with sleek brown fur that seems somehow wet and dry all at once; it looks nice and soft, in the same way that the fish looks cool and slippery; it is lying, rather luxuriously might I add, on its side, rudder tail flopping this way and that; one arm scuffles with the snowy ground, while the other lies on its side, webbed fingers curling in on its fur and holding tight.
PF! Falling to my back, I lie in the snow, and gaze upwards at the darkening skies. The heads of the two, however, are in the way, and so I whip around and roll over, staring instead into the depths of the river. Its waters, not so crystal clear, but appearing clean enough; perhaps it's just the rushing of the liquids that makes it somewhat more difficult to see into.
I can feel the cold as it starts to seep through my pajamas, now wet thanks to the snow, and although my fingers and toes are already tingling, I don't think I'll be leaving anytime soon. It's calm here, almost comforting even.
I like these two, somehow silent thanks to their incomprehensible talk; those carefree attitudes, with their own seeming carelessness is somehow all contagious; I find myself relaxing with them, my muscles not at all that tense, despite the chilling freeze. There's an occasional twitch here and there, due to general shivering, but I...I feel fine.
I feel fine. I /am/ fine.
I'll watch the reflections on the waves, the clouds coursing through the skies; I'll watch fish dart through the waters until they've all left; I'll watch the poles bend until they break; I'll watch the two strangers as they lie and talk until they're done, until they get up and go, or fall asleep, or disappear into thin air, or do whatever else it is they might do.
I will lie here for as long as I possibly can. I will be resting until I am done resting.
The wind grows steadily stronger, and I become gradually weary.
|
|
Gus
Accepted Character
Chump #1
Posts: 48
Full Name: Augustus Dunhall
Species: Pied Crow Shifter
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Birdverse (1970's)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
OOC Name: acorncap, Acorn
|
Post by Gus on Feb 5, 2014 23:37:34 GMT
Gus snorted at the otter's 'yes'. He wasn't particularly surprised at the creature talking- it was hard to be surprised at anything talking, really, now that he'd been meeting things like elves and 'kitsune' and... whatever the mad child in the library was. He liked to think he was adapting rather nicely to all this.
He continued reeling his line in until the weight clinked against the guides. Detaching the worm (which made an admirable attempt on his index finger), he tossed it into the container and hooked the lure into the guide for safekeeping. That was about when he looked up, saw the giant 'otter' charging at him, and screeched.
Gus jerked his legs up onto the bench and threw his arms behind him, struggling to get out of harm's way. He scrabbled his heels at the wooden slats, making rather pathetic squeaking sounds as he tried to pitch himself up and over the backing, but only really succeeding in slamming into it a few times. (It's going to eat me!)
But then the creature skittered right by him, stopping only to sniff before tearing into his bait. Well. That was one less thing to carry home. He couldn't help but stare bewildered at it, as it stuffed its face with plastic lures and spat them out again. He flinched away when it looked at him. "I, uh, well, um..." he stuttered. He doubted he could outrun the beast- given the speed with which it tore toward him he was fairly certain it would end with a great deal of blood and one or two good crunches. He could feel a nervous smile twitching its way up his cheek.
He hardly noticed what should have been a familiar figure slipping its way to the bank of the river. He was too focused on the beast's dripping chin- and sharp teeth. "I- I- I suppose I could find something." Finally getting his feet under him, Gus slowly started to rise up, slipping his foot behind him and climbing over so that the bench was between himself and the massive predator. "Did- did you have something in mind?"
|
|
Lucia
New Member
Only sugar... darn.
Posts: 12
Full Name: Lucia
Species: European Pine Marten
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth #5062
Height: 5'7"
Weight: How rude! (120-ish pounds perhaps)
OOC Name: Jiggers
|
Post by Lucia on Feb 7, 2014 14:00:37 GMT
This was new. Was someone... actually... asking her opinion? Damnit, she couldn't tell. Was that sarcasm? Was he being honest, or...? What was he playing at? Here she was, naked and wet as the hour of her birth (save her scarf hiding her shameful, shameful neck), and he was acting as fidgety as an undercover rookie whose wire tap just fell out of his pants.
It had to be a joke. Just one bad come-down. She was messed up. She knew it, didn't have to hide from the truth. The city was empty because... just a bad dream. And here, this—some kind of lizard, perhaps? Lizard-monkey hybrid (were those a thing?), lost his tail, poor dear—she could see him, because they were letting her. He was her buyer.
Okay. Made sense. Some twisted fetish on his part. Couldn't take a drugged up jill, wanted them clean; that was fine, she'd had worse. Liked them confused. Probably sat by her the entire time, watching her spaz as her body yearned for anything. Disgusting. Typical.
But it wasn't like she had a choice... This spot was probably part of it. He'd probably put her in the river. A bit of drowning play, too? Made her eat worms? Ugh, whatever. Whatever. She could deal with it. It'd be over soon enough, back to the fog and ebb and ache. And there was his buddy to watch, in one of those black zipper suits, what were they called? Zoot suits? Whatever.
The marten sighed, flopping onto her side. He wanted to provoke her, made her snap. Somehow that was his fault, making her angry. She'd have to play along eventually, but right now... right now she was just too tired. She'd get punished for it, but it wouldn't change anything.
She wouldn't fight it anymore.
"Sure," she said. "Der Ritz. Vhy not. Fly us to London. Dress me up, take me out, haff your fun."
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 8, 2014 4:40:37 GMT
Something is sounding. There is a glimmer, somewhere near.
I sit up, turning myself around to peer past the duo, at the odd glimmer. It is nothing but blurs...shimmering shines.
There's a sloshing, a glint of gold, as the fish stands up on its tail. There's a shuffling, a brush of brown, as the otter stands up on its feet.
To my left, the fish offers the otter a resolute salute, then, without another word, leaps high into the air, spinning and turning dark, eyes bulging as it dives into the river, water spraying up, up, then falling down, down, a brilliant shower of reflective droplets that rain down over us, drenching the world in wet.
To my right, the otter shakes itself off, tail flopping like a landlocked fish, sending snow everywhere; it tugs on its fishing pole, then, stepping forwards, it drops into the river; the proceeding splash is soon followed by the leap of many more fish, all small and glasslike, with a vivid heart pumping red lines throughout their bodies; after they've all disappeared into the murky depths, the otter reappears, a big fish wriggling in its jaws, black and bulging eyes, as it swims slowly down the river; and, though swept onwards by the fluid's flow, it seems so serene, floating almost listlessly in its departure.
--Oh...so I've stood up, it seems. Walked a little bit alongside the river, following it; I stop, now that I realize it, now that the two are out of sight.
The glimmer's closer though, but seems no less a blur than before. Although...I do suppose that there are some additions to it.
Several other shadows, moving, murmuring amongst themselves. My head tilts -- I don't suppose that there's any in approaching them, is there? Only one way to find out....
They seem to be on top of something, some sort of long, rectangular half-box. Perhaps it is a bench? I squint. Yes, yes...I do believe that this is what it is.
I step up to the side, reaching to grab one of the bench's armrests, my fingers curling loosely over it; it's very cold, ice-cold...frozen over with frost. One of them is very much nearer to me than the other one.
Its skin hangs from its bones.
...I want to touch it. --So I do.
Reaching with my free hand, I feel my fingers close around something soft and fuzzy; I tug on it, trying to see if it will come free. But it seems to want to hold fast.
I glance at the other one, the one who has been looming over this one; then I start to pull harder on the skin.
"Qywxz."
|
|
Gus
Accepted Character
Chump #1
Posts: 48
Full Name: Augustus Dunhall
Species: Pied Crow Shifter
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Birdverse (1970's)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
OOC Name: acorncap, Acorn
|
Post by Gus on Feb 9, 2014 6:19:09 GMT
Gus still had no clue what the otter was talking about. He was never good with sarcasm, (It was sarcasm, right?) so for a few moments he stared blankly at them, wondering if they were serious about a night on the town.
Well. It couldn't hurt to play along. Just in case it wasn't.
He put on a tentative smile. "Oh. Uh, well, of course. If. That's what you would like." (How did one feed an otter? How did one dress an otter?) He cleared his throat- he was no stranger to putting on a show (Usually one of competence and emotional distance, but he'd had a girlfriend once. He'd been on dates. He could be a proper gentleman when required. Especially if it meant not being eaten.)-and straightened his shoulders. "I'm afraid London is a bit far, and I'm a bit grounded at the moment." (Not that he'd be able to carry her even if he could shift.) "So I'm afraid we'll have to make due with the city at hand. No worries though, I'm sure we can find a lovely restaurant all the same. If you'll allow me-"
He made to go help the otter back to their feet (Wasn't sure why they flopped on the ground in the first place, but it seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.), when he felt something tug at his shirt. Gus looked down and blinked.
Now, there was a familiar face! First time too, that he'd seen anyone in this world that he'd seen once before- and it wasn't the (not-so) mad man in a suit or Mackenzie, or Sam, no. It was-
"You! Gracious, where have you been?" The mad alien child. The strange not-quite-human gradient being that had vanished into the air ages ago. He looked them up and down. They didn't seem to be limping anymore- he wondered if thy'd managed to take care of the glass themselves. "How's your foot, what have you-" He felt a wet drop fall on his nose. Ah, well. No time for it now, interrogations would have to wait. He held his finger up to the child. "You stay here. Understand? No more vanishing acts, just hang on a minute."
He trotted around the bench, bent down with one hand on his knee and the other stretched out to the otter. "Come on, er, ma'am. We'd better get out of the rain. Though ah, I suppose it wouldn't matter much to you."
|
|
Lucia
New Member
Only sugar... darn.
Posts: 12
Full Name: Lucia
Species: European Pine Marten
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth #5062
Height: 5'7"
Weight: How rude! (120-ish pounds perhaps)
OOC Name: Jiggers
|
Post by Lucia on Feb 11, 2014 17:16:44 GMT
So, he was one of those. Why ask if you can't provide? No—she was being silly, of course he wasn't going to fly them to London. Whatsisname, her handler, would never allow it. Wick. Couldn't remember his name. What was he? Skunk? Chivyick. She hoped she'd remember before this date was through. Last time she'd forgotten, the buyer never took her back; her owners had to send a hit out, the murders got in the papers, the police... swarming the clubs... Cotton shoved in her throat, gods, she'd never forget the feel of that, not being able to scream, to make just enough noise for them to tap the walls with their truncheons...
Lucia zoned out a little as the monkey-lizard chided his friend for being late. She just didn't care what their relation was. The only drama she could take was from that 4-inch black-and-white above her bed in the cellar, stuck on the channel that constantly played wretched meta space operas from the 2160s.
She only focused again when he knelt and offered a paw. She sighed. Just drop the gentle-animal act already, she wanted to scream at him. Take me—here, that alley, in the river, just get it over with, so I can go home and eat!
She took his paw anyway, standing up slowly, shakily. It was getting colder, and her scarf was damp. Her bones were ice. She felt them crack within her muscles, distant and ominous like a thawing lake. She nearly threw up. Could have been the worms. Could have been the want. Her tail twitched left, right, left, up, sank low and dragged behind her as her head dipped.
"Right," she hissed. "Doessn't matter to me. Voteffer you say..." But that inconsolable pilot light in her heart just wouldn't flicker out completely. He wanted her sober, he could bloody well deal with the attitude that allowed her to have. Let's see if she could remember how this sarcasm thing worked. Give it another go. "I'm only naked and soakink, how vill a little freezink rain bot'er me, hmm?"
A few minutes late to the party, having been waylaid by an eddy or two, her clothes began to drift into view, somehow just light enough to bob along the surface. But of course; they were fashioned of materials made to reject a number of fluids.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 15, 2014 3:28:47 GMT
What are they talking about?
I lean in closer, fingers curling tighter around the one shadow's fuzzy hanging skin, tilting my head and blinking my eyes as I try to train my ears to their language.
| "You!" |
oshit-- BRIGHT LIGHT --on my bum now, having fallen backwards and all; rubbing my eyes intensely, to smear away the light.
I hear more words, something about where and a foot and what; questions, those, and I take away my hands to squint through the light -- I think it's dimming now? -- up at the shadow who's seemed to have turned towards me.
/A spark of familiarity./ I catch it -- swinging out my hand, fingers closing around a ball of light, the last of it, like a firefly -- and I bring it in close, both hands around it, a tiny little opening here, peering into and at the blinking bit as an order rings in my ears--
| "You stay here. Understand? No more vanishing acts, just hang on a minute." |
Aye, I'm fine staying here, s'pose.
But vision is so bad here...I shake my head furiously, trying to clear it, sharpen it, and look up to watch the two as they shiver and tremble, changing shapes, but...well, apparently they aren't quite ready to become solid -- in fact, as the two continue with themselves, their language has taken a turn back towards gibberish.
Sigh...I'll just slip back over to the river then, m'kay?
Scooting forwards on my bum, I swing my legs out in front of me, letting them hang from the raised bank's edge. At least the river's not blurry. Something's tapping my neck though, so I scratch a-- OCRAP
The light!
I jump up, arm swinging and hand snatching, but-- no dice! The ball of light hovers in the air, blinking slowly, before dropping suddenly into the river, turning into a fish on the way down.
OH NO YOU DON'T YOU DAMNABLE LIGHT ORB
Hastily stripping down, throwing all of my clothes behind me into the snow (which, in quick glancing, I notice seems to be slowly melting), and -- few hard, loud breaths -- time to...JUMP!
SPLSH! Whoosh! sprnklsprnkl!
I burst upwards for air, rubbing my eyes quickly to rid them of the water; the current, luckily, is not as strong as previously thought, and is just weak enough to allow me to maneuever without much difficulty.
Treading water, I turn around in a circle, looki-- THERE
With another gulp of air, I close my eyes and dive back down, then reopen them -- only to close again, because /ow/...but I soon reopen them once more, squinting against all the stinging matter in the liquid.
A shape swims past me, in fact seems to dance around me, as though in mockery; gritting my teeth, holding my breath, I kick my feet and swim after it, feeling my fingers and toes turn temporarily into fins, and a long amphibian tail sprout out from my end, swinging and swishing in the fluid as I follow the flow, straight to that tricky critter of mucus and scales!
guLP NEED AIR BUts-- working, pumping, I swim right into the fish, bowling it over in the water; turning sharply around, I close in on it, grabbing it just behind both head and tail, then head hastily for the surface, BURSTing
GASPing BREATHing
MOVing...back for the shore -- fish in hand!
It glows and sparkles, flashing angrily at me, but I maintain my hold on it as I carefully -- but quickly -- scramble up the steep bank; I trip shortly, but make it there, and SLAM the fish into the ground, then lie right on top of it!
HAH! You aren't going anywhere!
Stupid light...thought you could elude me, eh? No -- never!
Breathing and gasping still, I look upwards, towards the two -- they've moved positions, or, rather, I suppose /I/ have...the current must have carried me a little ways away -- and smile shakily at them.
"Luke," I whisper hoarsely, coughing -- got to clear my throat to speak.... "I got it...made it...."
I look down at the fish, and press down harder, for it is flopping and thrashing -- but all in vain, my fine friend.
I say this very sentence to it, grinning widely.
It is a very big fish. I wonder if it cooks well. Or whether it will even taste good, if we do.
I look again at the shadows, whose images are swiftly becoming sharper by the minute. My fingers and toes are normal again, no more webbing, but...the amphibious tail is still here -- it turns upwards, flopping from the middle mark so that its wide round tip brushes lightly over my back's center.
"Kruuulworlmn; we should try it," I say. "We should cook it and eat it. Look how big it is -- made somewhat of light too...it /must/ be-- WILL be, quite the rather tasty super fish."
|
|
Gus
Accepted Character
Chump #1
Posts: 48
Full Name: Augustus Dunhall
Species: Pied Crow Shifter
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Birdverse (1970's)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
OOC Name: acorncap, Acorn
|
Post by Gus on Feb 18, 2014 0:45:31 GMT
Gus helped pull the otter to their feet- they seemed to be having trouble standing, of a sudden. He frowned and put on hand on their ... shoulder? To help steady them. "Will you be all right?"
Rain continued falling, more insistent now than it had been. Gus held one hand over his head, as if it might shield him properly. It didn't. He gave the otter a nervous smile. "Well, it uh, it certainly won't help you any, will it?" He turned to the child, hand still acting like a particularly ineffectual umbrella. "All right, let's get-"
They were gone. Again. Gus looked around dismayed, only to hear a splash.
"Oh no." He took a step toward the river, stopped only by his grip on the otter's paw. "No, no, stop that! Stop- get back up here!"
Should he go after it? He should probably go after it. He could hardly see it swimming, and he wasn't much of a swimmer himself. For a moment, he felt panic twist his lungs. It was going to drown. He should have known better than to look away, he knew the child wasn't right in the head, but one moment out of sight and it was already drowning. Good show buddy boy! Excellent work!
Dropping the otter's paw Gus stumbled over to the edge of the river and shielded his eyes, scanning the river. It wasn't particularly fast-moving, they couldn't have just been swept away (Though the wind was blowing now. Does the wind make the water go faster? He didn't know. It looked like it did.). He glanced over at the otter "Do you see them?"
He took a few steps downriver when the child resurfaced again, naked, with a new tail and tugging something along with it. At first, Gus thought it was some sort of fish or weed, the way it was flapping in the wind. Looking closer, it seemed to be trash. And yet, they seemed so proud of their catch that he felt himself forcefully stuffing his confusion and irritation elsewhere. "That's... well, good job, you..." he patted the kid's head. "Of course it will, I'm sure it'll be absolutely delicious. Now let's get out of the rain."
He guided the child back to the otter, scooped up their discarded clothes (And after a moment's consideration draped one over the child's head to help keep them dry.), and did a quick (and unnecessary) headcount. "Are we good? Is everyone here? Great, let's go." he hooked one arm under the otter's (just in case they fell over) and placed one hand on the child's shoulder (just in case they tried to vanish again), and did his very best to steer them out of the little park and back to the city, and with any luck, shelter.
The sky continued to merrily piss on them.
|
|
Lucia
New Member
Only sugar... darn.
Posts: 12
Full Name: Lucia
Species: European Pine Marten
Gender: Female
Homeworld: Earth #5062
Height: 5'7"
Weight: How rude! (120-ish pounds perhaps)
OOC Name: Jiggers
|
Post by Lucia on Feb 19, 2014 16:32:35 GMT
Lucia pulled her arm out of Gus's grasp.
"No," she said, and flinched. She was not slapped for this. She made a mental note in big, glowing neon. Her hypothesis was starting to look quite sturdy: he wanted her to act out, to be the dominating role. He was so fragile, so soft-spoken. What else could it be?
"I'm not goink anyvhere. I vill put up vit' a lot off chiff, but you tell me right now vot you need from me, or I scream. Der birds vill hear, and I haff no chip, and maybe I vant to die."
Possession of a non-tagged endangered species had to put some sense into him! ...not that she had seen any birds. Come to think, the city's sound surveillance was pretty lousy going by what she'd been through in previous years. But it was still a good threat, right? Even if it backfired, what could her handlers they do to her that would change, well, anything? What could they dream up that she hadn't endured before?
"You," she said, pointing a claw at 0, "giff me my clothes. Dey are not for eatink, you..."
She shook her head. Where'd that tail come from? It was... not vanishing like the usual hallucinations. It must have always been there. Damn this chill. Not the rain, rain was warm. Don't throw up—don't throw up!
But, seriously. The thing wanted to eat her clothes? She'd had panty-sniffers before, but this was off the wicking chain.
She turned her attention back to Gus. Forceful. No harm so far. Could be coming later. She'd survive it then.
"How lonk did you pay for? Vot am I supposed to be doink? I can't do my job vit'out knowink. I can't vickink guess! So tell me. Dom? Am I to be claws and teet', or pads and tunk?" Then again, he was being something of a gentle animal... "Or iss it a knight fantasy? Safink der princess from der vater, mm? Carry me avay to your castle now? After makink me eat vurms... Tchkk. Voteffer. Look—I vill get in character, but I haff to know vot to play." Her tone softened. She began to loosen her scarf, sidled up to him, pressing her body against his, nose to nose. That disgusting, freakishly shaped nose, like some kind of... toucan or something. "Just tell me, honey-monkey..."
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 20, 2014 19:55:22 GMT
Coughing, I rub my throat. Belch-- I swallow. Ew, gross. Hate drowning indigestion.
I cough a little more, trying to rid my throat of the water that's caught in it. One of the shadows approaches me, even pats me on the head. Tells me I did a good job!
I purr, and then smile as it confirms my suspicions, saying that it will be absolutely delicious; looking down at the fish of light, I see that it has gone suspiciously still -- given up, has it? Well, good!
"Hopelehzz fyr vu," I say to it, picking all of it up (is it in /pieces/?) as the shadow begins to lead me back to its companion. I look between the both of them, noticing that, as one of them puts its hands on my shoulder, its own image is becoming clear.
Not a shadow, no...no, a-- a human? I squint at it, for it looks familiar-- only then, the other shadow starts speaking, and I turn to look at it. Hey-- I hear my own loudly audible gasp.
"It's YOU!" I know this thing! Sure, it's blurry, but I'd recognize it anywhere! Especially with that neat little accent of its (although its voice does sound somehow different, I must admit). All brown fluff and long body, standing tall with a neat little tail. It's wearing something oddly neon over its neck, mentions something to me about giving it its clothes.
I laugh. "I don't have your clothes, tuberat. You must have left them at the bar, yah?" I shake the fishy pieces in its face, which merely flops limply around, playing dead. "Maybe we can go back, cook this lightfish there; your clothes might still be there, and I'm sure you have many more stories to tell of your home. I haven't seen you in so long, it's so GOOD to--"
The mustelid's already turned back to the human, though...whose face is slowly also coming into focus.
I move towards him, shuffling, slipping around the weasel-thing to lean in close, forcing his face into sharpness.
Another gasp. And a grin. Then a scream.
"IT'S YOU, MISTER!"
The two seem to be very well acquainted, don't they? How so very fortuitous!
The weasel seems to be talking about telling fantasies or something -- is it almost storytime already? No way! She must be ready for a nap though, right? She's hugging him-- well, sort of...something like hugging, I suppose.
Hey-- heyHeyHEYHEYHEY! I WANT IN ON THIS
COME HERE YOU TWO
LET ME JUST WRAP MY ARMS AROUND YOU
MURR AND PURR VERY LOUDLY
HUGS ALL AROUND GROUP HUG
I LOVE YOU ALL OF YOU ALL OF THE TWO OF YOU BOTH
YES HUG HI HELLO
HUGHUGHUG
I slap the fish over the human's shoulders as I embrace them, my tail flopping in the weasel's face. Wetness patters my back. Grinning so wide I'm afraid my face might break, shouting so loudly that reality itself might suffer from a distortion implosion.
"I LOVE YOU BOTH OF YOU LET US HUG HUG HUG HUG LOVE LOVE LOVE"
|
|
Gus
Accepted Character
Chump #1
Posts: 48
Full Name: Augustus Dunhall
Species: Pied Crow Shifter
Gender: Male
Homeworld: Birdverse (1970's)
Height: 5'6"
Weight: 165
OOC Name: acorncap, Acorn
|
Post by Gus on Feb 24, 2014 23:31:39 GMT
What he needed was to get out of the rain, and he couldn't help being just a little miffed when the otter pulled away. But mostly he was confused- the otter threatened to scream, threatened to alert the birds (And for a moment, his eyes widened in surprise- So there were others like him, nearby perhaps! (He was surprised to find himself missing his own kind. Normal people, with feathers and beaks and a penchant for the odd cricket or two.)), and spewed other nonsense that he couldn't even pretend he understood.
He hadn't paid for anything. He didn't even know this creature, and he stared at them, bewildered, brain grinding at the gears, trying to process what exactly the beast was saying.
And then.
It came close.
Very close.
A little too close.
They pressed up against him, wet fur soaking through what dry spots were left in his pants and beginning to dampen his thick sweater. He froze, releasing the child's shoulder as they pressed their face up to his (He could smell the stink of worm (He caught a glimpse of sharp teeth and remembered that only minutes before, they'd demanded food.) on their breath and feel the tickle of whiskers on his face.). There was a faint hum as his mind ground to a halt. He was stupid, but he wasn't quite that naive. There are certain things, certain cues, that for all intents and purposes are universal, apparently even to birds and otters from vastly different worlds. His breath hitched. Two thoughts bounced about his vacated head- 'God help me' and 'honey-monkey'.
Which was about when he felt something wet and limp slap his face as it draped over his shoulder, and only seconds later his face was smashed into the otter's. Someone was screaming into his ears- like a valentine display had come to life and was screeching heartfelt sentiments at anyone who passed by.
His head felt oddly loose. There was blood on the otter's face- when did that get there? Was someone hurt? He felt a bubble blow and pop in his nostril, and something thick and liquid try to roll backward down his throat. His face hurt. His ears hurt. He let himself be squashed as his brain struggled to pull itself together.
|
|