[27] Video/Action for Goldenrod - "I'm Too Muscular. I Would Be a Bear."

[lieutenantantichrist]

[VIDEO]

[The face on the screen looks irritated. Also notably hairier. Maybe he just hasn't shaven in a while.]

So I go to walk around a while, I come back into town to get a shower and some socks, and I get bit by a bear with butterfly wings.

What the hell have you people been doing without me?

Steve isn't even much help. She spent three minutes beating the thing up and twenty coming up with the name Butterfring.

[He scratches his neck and winces. His nails need a trim.]

Point is, I need to know where you can go around here to get a rabies shot.


[ACTION OPTION 1]

[Not long after the broadcast, Blake has forgotten about the shot and put his attention to something more pressing: he is hungry as hell. He goes to a cafe and starts out by ordering some coffee and an omelette. At first he's annoyed by how the waiter gives his hairy arm a funny look (he's been out in the wilderness for a while here, buddy, there's not a lot of chances to clean up), it turns out it's so damn good he gets some more.

The maple syrup on the pancakes doesn't taste right. Must be cheap artificial crap. He gets honey instead.

Soon he's not bothering with ordering things one at a time. Soon he's not bothering with a fork.

He's shoveling pancakes, bacon, and sausage in his mouth with his bare claws, and he doesn't give a damn about anybody who's staring. It's goddamn delicious and he's hungry.]


[ACTION OPTION 2]

[Full. Was good. Tired now. Needs a nap.

Shoes didn't fit right. Took them off, stuck them in his bag. Toenails need a trim too. Ground under his feet feels better. Shirt fits funny, too. He scratches his shoulder, and looks. Thick, dark hair. Furry. Something not right about that. He'll deal with it tomorrow.

He lumbers down the street. Cold out here. Bright. He doesn't want a hotel. Chintzy, chatty. They smell like Lysolrock. He wants something that smells earthy. Nice and dim, quiet. Low. Someplace you can curl up.

Like there. Shadowy safe place. Smells like wood and roots. Gotta lean down and crawl under, but then it's nice. Cozy. Blake rests his head on his paws and shuts his eyes for a minute.

He is not aware that this happens to be under Roy Mustang's porch.]

Comments

[Voice]

[rocketralph]

It's not rabies you need to be worried about, Mr. President.

_{[Sorry, it's just got such a nice ring to it.]}

[Voice]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[There's some rumbling sounds as Blake fumbles with his phone. When did these damn buttons get so hard to push?]

Hell yes I'm worried. It wasn't foaming, but there was something wrong with that damn thing.

[Voice]

[rocketralph]

O-ho, be worried! Just not about--

_{[Ralph's suffering a lot of anxiety right now. WHY ARE CLEFABLE SO NERVOUS???]}

You're gonna mutate.

[Voice]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake's voice sharpens.] I'm not in the mood for any jokes.

I can hear you trying not to laugh, asshole.

[There's a telltale tightness in Ralph's voice.]

Voice

[bent_the_world]

Screwed up Pokemon are attacking people all over.

And they definitely transmit something....

[Korra is currently a lot harrier, toothier and clawier than normal.]

Are you near a Pokemon Center? If anybody can help with Pokemon attacks, I'd bet it's them. But they probably can't do much.

Voice

[lieutenantantichrist]

[What do you know, they have that in common.]

I tried that. They gave me a band-aid with pink monsters on it. [He growls. It's throatier than usual.] Goddammit. All I wanted here was some hot food and a shave.

Voice

[bent_the_world]

About what I figured.

If you have claws now, don't try to shave. It's not worth it. Trust me.

Voice

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Now she's messing with him.] A teenage girl doesn't know anything about shaving.

[Besides...legs, he guesses.]

[Voice]

[foolishwren]

_{[Heather doesn't usually reply with audio only... how odd!]}

Good news: you won't need a rabies shot.

Bad news: you might need a LOT of shaving cream.

[Voice]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Odd indeed. A lot of people seem to be opting for using the phone the old-fashioned way.

Blake's voice gets troubled and suspicious.] Heather. What do you know?

[Voice]

[foolishwren]

<sub>[SHE DOESN'T USUALLY SOUND HESITANT ON THE PHONE WITH HIM.]

[BUT TODAY SHE DOES.]</sub>

You, uh.

Might wind up having a pretty bad hair day.

[Voice]

[lieutenantantichrist]

Heather.

[It's the low growl of something you wouldn't want to find pawing at your cooler in the woods in the middle of the night.]

I'm not in the mood to fool around.

Video

[the_pilgrim]

[Have a gnome child with antlers!] That's not all there is to those things....

Video

[lieutenantantichrist]

Holy shit, kid.

[He did not have those before.

Anymore than Blake had such fuzzy ears.]

Re: Video

[the_pilgrim]

It's awful! They keep flowering and turning to leaves and falling off...I got kicked out of the inn for the mess!

Video

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake feels giddy. Don't look directly at your own paws. Especially don't look directly at the deerkid.]

Next time bring a rake.

[Video]

[wing_attack]

[Yeah hello Blake, Tobias has Wingull wings and has feathers all down his back.]

Yeah, that's not going to help.

[Video]

[lieutenantantichrist]

Aw, shit, kid. You too?

What happened, did you get bit by a radioactive seagull?

[Video]

[wing_attack]

Something like that. I hate seagulls.

[Action: 1]

[esthetically]

[In said same cafe, a small cardboard display near the front comes crashing down when his rather large violet wings smack into it from Rei just trying to walk inside. Rei jolts, trying to step back to pick it up, but... honestly, it's hard doing anything with these. He manages to get the display up, but his wings flutter and bump into no less than two people.]

Oof--Sorry! I'm quite sorry over these!

[He'd just come in for pancakes. After a horrible night of trying to figure out how to do anything with these damn wings, he figured he'd just give himself a breather and get breakfast--he isn't even sure what time it is, but he's declared it breakfast time. He barely manages to place an order and moves himself to a small area to the side, figuring he could at least try to keep them folded and out of the way while he waits.

And that's when he spots Blake, eyebrow raised in curiosity at the man's eating habits.

Well. At least he knows he's not alone in this... strangeness.]

[Action: 1]

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Blake looks up at the crash, then hunches his hulking shoulders and goes back to what he's doing. Food's important. Some guy with wings can be dealt with later.

He shoots him a glare as he sucks honey off his claws.] Watch it, birdass.

[Action: 1]

[esthetically]

[Rei sniffs indignantly and tries to pull the wings in more.]

First, they're butterfly wings [As if this is the most offensive thing he's been told today, talk about an uptight idiot], and second--it's not like I'm doing this on purpose!

[He's had a rough day already, can't you tell? With a huff, he crosses his arms.]

Action option 2

[ifwishesweremustangs]

[Roy is not exactly in a good mood with his current situation. He's furry all over and incredibly fluffy, being, as far as he can tell, part Arcanine. Lorenna, his Growlithe, is thrilled, but also sympathetic and mostly confused. He can smell everything, and hear everything, so he's stayed in his house for the most part.

All the fur and the changes to his body, the big fluffy mane on his head and chest, the incredibly fluffy tail, the claws on his feet and hands, mean he can't wear anything but shorts. In face, the only part of his body free of fur is the large burn wound on his side.

At first he hears something outside, on the front porch. Lorenna is barking at the door trying to get him to go out and investigate. His instincts tell him to go check it out, too. This is his place after all. So he opens the door and follows his Growlithe down and around to under the porch.

When he catches sight of the large furry shape he growls for a moment before he manages to stop himself.]

Action option 2

[lieutenantantichrist]

[Barking. Blake ignores it. Wants to sleep. Nice here.

Thumping noise overhead.

Then a much closer growl.

Blake's eyes crack open. He squints at the shape in the brightness and waves his claw clumsily.]

Nggrghph. Fuggoff.

[ifwishesweremustangs]

[Wait a minute... Blake? Roy can see just fine in the low light beneath the porch, and what he sees doesn't look like Blake, but it sounds like him.

Roy growls again before he stops himself.]

What do you think you're doing under my porch? Get out!