[Boy]
Boy was in the basement again, this time more conspicuously so. He'd been working on things, bringing in chunks of wood, an scratched up Motorcycle Helmet, strands of leather and fabric. He'd even come through the house with a pocket full of stones, and eventually learned there was a hole in the pocket after he'd left a trail of stones leading toward the basement door.
He was down there now. Working on...something.
[Wendy Berber]
*She's been distracted all day. Work had gone by in a blur of half remembered programing and anxious daydreaming. As shadows grew longer and day faded into night, she'd only gotten worse. She'd undercooked supper and overcooked her forearm, knocked over the spice rack and forgotten to add soap to the washing machine. She'd just realized the lack of soap now, and yelped at the top of the steps as she finds a point stone in her heel. The bottle of laundry detergent tumbles down the steps, but luckily Wendy does not.*
[Boy]
The washing machine was indeed rumbling, but the sudden yelp and tumbling sounds both catch him by surprise. He's dropped whatever he was doing and is looking up from the bottom of the steps, his larger, harier glabro form looking up expentantly at first, and then relaxing. He picks up the bottle.
"You alright up there?"
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy clutches the railing, prying a small pointy stone out of her foot. She looks up at him in glabro and starts, before her expression grows shy and fond. This form she had grown more accustomed to. This was still Boy. Her head dips in a nod.* y-yes. Um.. Just stepped on a s-stone. Dis I disturb you?
[Boy]
"Oh. No. My fault, I should'a cleaned them up. No, come on down. I wanna show you somethin'."
[Wendy Berber]
Oh um.. Ok. *She's heading down, barefeet slapping against the wooden staircase. An overlarge white t-shirt hangs off her bones, over top green basketball shorts. Wendy extends her hands for the soap, suddenly nervous.*
[Boy]
Wendy gets the soap as well as an offered hand; a regular, homid form, Boy hand, once she reaches the bottom of the steps. The rickety work bench he has down there is lined with Items. A heap of stones from his pockets, the scratched helmet, and a half finished, carved wooden flute.
"I'm making gifts for people. Tell me what you think. Uh...these are for Sinclair and Joey." He indicated the flute and the helmet. "We've had a bit of tension with the whole Dietrich thing. He suggested getting an iPod or something, but we don't have that kind of money. I figure as long as it's music, right?"
[Wendy Berber]
oh um.. *She considers, then nods. She suspected the glasswalker would love an Ipod. But they truly did not have money. Not yet anyhow. She looks at the stones and the helmet quizzically.*
[Boy]
"Ah. This helmet's still good. I mean the inner lining's intact, and the shell is in one piece. Its just scratched up. I figure I can paint it up and...I dunno. I'm honestly not sure about it, to tell the truth. Just like these." He indicates the stones and the strands of leather. "They're supposed to be for the Unbroken Circle; Marcus's pack. And I hear Wahya might be joining them too. Just polished stones and a necklace or bracelet or something. I was thinking of asking Marrick to add her touch. Like she did with these, y'know?"
He holds up his wrist, indicating the yellow bit of twine.
"But I dunno. I dunno how they'd take something like that. Folks here...its hard to guess their reactions."
[Wendy Berber]
Um, I think that all sounds ok. *Wendy presses her lips together.* I'm um, not great with gifts either.
[Boy]
He gives a half smile, tapping on the table and considering. Eventually he nods and turns to Wendy.
"You uh...you busy? I guess you were doing Laundry, huh?"
[Wendy Berber]
*She looks down to the laundry soap in her hands as if just remembering it was there.* Oh yeah. Um, sorry. *She finishes up adding the soap to the washer, sheepish.* I forgot to add detergent. *She regards him a moment, leaning on the washer in her garage sale clothes.* I'm done now, though.
[Boy]
"Well then maybe its a good time. For that thing we talked about."
[Wendy Berber]
Yeah maybe. *She presses thin lips together, rubbing the back of her neck with a spidery hand. She takes a deep breath, and sets the soap down on the washer with a determined thud. She raises her chin a little, saying more firmly.* Yeah.
[Boy]
His smile is soft and brief. He walks over to her cautiously, still fearing she would bolt. Gently, he takes her hands and places one on each of his shoulders, holding them there with just the weight of his own.
"So should we pick up where we left off or do you want to start all over?"
[Wendy Berber]
*She considers with a sharp intake of breath. The bookworm hadn't figured that one out yet. But it was one or the other damnit. His shoulders and squeezed by tense spindly hands as she murmurs* W-where we left off?
[Boy]
He nods. "Then close your eyes."
And once she does she can hear him breathing, along with the whirring rumble of the washing machine. Breathing deliberately loud. Focusing. And then...something strange happened to his clothes. For a moment it felt like they melted away and for an even shorter moment she felt bare, hot skin under her palms. But then it was replaced by the course thick shag that swam through her fingers. His hands fell away from hers. She felt his size expanding like a baloon being inflated, and even though the light in the basement wasn't the best, she would see the growing darkness of him through her eyelids.
The thing that she was holding on to couldn't help but growl, long and low, as if it had to for breathing. But then it huffed, and at this intimate closeness, she was bathed in its hot breath.
[Wendy Berber]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
((WP! Should I stay or should I go now?))
[Wendy Berber]
*She obliges, eyes flicking shut as she twitches her hands nervously on his shoulders. His form grows beneath her fingertips, boils out and upwards. Fur. Fur wasn't scary. Fur was pleasant even. But as his vague form takes shape despite her closed eyes, she makes a squeak of terror. Handfuls of fur are clenched tight to stop herself from fleeing. Wendy's breath comes in quick sharp gasps, her thin face pale and wan. The rumble nearly does her in, air spiking with the sharp scent of fear as her knees turn to jello and she sags a little.. But the reed thin girl doesn't go down, and as his humid breath puffs around her, she loosens her deathgrip. Eyes still shut.*
[Boy]
There was a massive head between her hands now. A massive head with a massive muzzle and a massive wet nose. The nuzzle nudges her slowly, starting at her legs and urging her upwards, to a propper stand. That huge wet nose met the side of her nose. Her chest. Her arms. The growl turned to more of a whine. A low pitched, terrifying whine.
[Wendy Berber]
Oh Boy Please no. P-please no.. *Whether she's asking him to stop touching her, whining at her, or to not snap off one of her arms like a stalk of celery is unclear. A panicked request as she slides clammy hands tentatively down his thick furry neck, to find wolfish jowls. She moves now, very slowly. biting hard on her lip in determination as her hands quest for shaggy withers. She leans forward until her face is against the fur of a flat shoulder, a deep breath before opening eyes. She leans back and takes him in. A hard swallow.*
[Boy]
And he responds by remaining still, allowing her to explore on her own terms. The expanding of its very breathing makes it frightening, and now he was breathing slowly, steadily, standing as still as he could manage. When she opens her eyes he's in the same position, only a massive head inclines slightly, and intensely brown wolf eyes watch her feet and hands.
[Wendy Berber]
*Big. Thats the word that immediately springs to mind. She was looking furred death in the face. A wince. Looking at? She was touching furred death. She takes terrified stock of him, wide eyed. Its several long tense moments before she manages to croak.* Ok. *And give a terse nod. She's seen him. And quite survived. her heart finally slowly so that it isn't painful in her chest. She stoops and rests her face on his fur once more, murmuring again.* Ok. *Eyes slip shut behind the cat-eye glasses*
[Boy]
And he's changing again, this time getting smaller, this time the fur fades and the arms move. The T-shirt he was wearing is back. The voice he used is back.
"Only one more. Keep them closed."
More breathing. And then, more growing. Only whereas the last one was a soft sea of fur this one is all muscle, rock hard, sliding like bricks under her fingers, under the shirt. Then the shirt too is gone. Fur takes its place one again, and if her face were to remain on her shoulders she'd have to reach a lot higher.
There's no growling this time. There's only a single huff of breath when its finished.
[Wendy Berber]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
((WP - If I go there will be trouble, if I stay it will be double..))
[Wendy Berber]
Oh Gaia! *She gasps, cringing a little. Teeth clamp hard on her lip as the shoulder she was using stretched up and away from her. No. She was not firghtened of this. This was Boy damnit. Boy. Who talked to ghosts and cried in her arms and stole kisses. Her hands come out in front of her, shakily mapping what was in front of her. Eyes flick open as well.*
[Boy]
And as she found whirls of fur on his heavy chest and opened her eyes to see the brown and grey crinos, he was sure to have his eyes closed. There were some things about the change. They took away certain parts of him and replaced others. This was his warform. And while it was still Boy in there; in the same way that he couldn't stop his hispo form from growling, he was certain that he couldn't stop this form from looking like it wanted to kill something.
Boy kept his eyes shut. He kept his huge clawed hands at his side. He didn't touch her this time, or nudge her into opening her eyes. He just filled the room with himself.
The washing machine churned steadily.
[Wendy Berber]
*A squeak in her throat. She'd only been this close to a trueborn in his war form once before. And that encounter had left her bloodied and mending for the better part of a month. But this was Boy. And she would know him. If she were going to be a good and worthwhile mate. She presses clammy hands against hard slabs of muscle, trying twice for words before whispering hoarsely.* I'll know you now.
[Boy]
If the beast in front of her could smile it probably would have, but it didnt, for the same reason Boy didn't open his eyes. Still, those clawed hands moved slowly and pressed against the kinfolks hands with a loving sort of pressure.
But suddenly the washing machine stops, and at the same instant it emits a a sharp, obnoxious, and startling buzz.
Snap your fingers. No, that was too slow. Blink. No, still too slow. Think about blinking. That's how fast the Crinos went from steady, gentle giant, to....
To the bulky, but considerably smaller, Glabro form. And in his Glabro form he'd leaped backward, turning toward the washing machine and still backing away. That...was not the expected reaction.
[Wendy Berber]
*She'd been relaxing in infinitesimal degrees as he pressed her hands with care, and then the dryer spoils everything. Wendy gasps and gets ready to- oh. Ink blue eyes blink behind her spectacles.* Oh.. um. W-washer ding. W-wash is r-ready for the dryer...
[Boy]
He was panting, startled and slightly panicked, and swallowed hard looking between Wendy and the washer. After a while every breath that he took saw him growing smaller, less hairy, less fearsome.
"Oh. Uh...It just...surprised me, that's all."
[Wendy Berber]
*Its suddenly Wendy's turn to offer comfort. She moves toward him and wraps spindly arms around Boy's diminishing bulk. Something about seeing him literally shrink in fear compelling her to be brave instead.* are you okay Boy?
[Boy]
"I'm uh...I'm fine. Are you okay? I mean...did I scare you?"
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy nods.* b-but you're um.. su-supposed to be scary.
[Boy]
He nods at that and manages to smile a little.
"You did good though. Very brave. I'm proud."
[Wendy Berber]
Thanks. *She blushes, breaking away to flip laundry and wipe her sweaty palms on her shirt.* I'm s-sorta hungry. I'll make us some oatmeal. Kay? *and with that she's up the stairs and gone. Room to breathe and think again.*
[Boy]
He waits for a while, gathering his own head before heading up. Stupid washing machine.
[Wendy Berber]
(FADE!)
Boy was in the basement again, this time more conspicuously so. He'd been working on things, bringing in chunks of wood, an scratched up Motorcycle Helmet, strands of leather and fabric. He'd even come through the house with a pocket full of stones, and eventually learned there was a hole in the pocket after he'd left a trail of stones leading toward the basement door.
He was down there now. Working on...something.
[Wendy Berber]
*She's been distracted all day. Work had gone by in a blur of half remembered programing and anxious daydreaming. As shadows grew longer and day faded into night, she'd only gotten worse. She'd undercooked supper and overcooked her forearm, knocked over the spice rack and forgotten to add soap to the washing machine. She'd just realized the lack of soap now, and yelped at the top of the steps as she finds a point stone in her heel. The bottle of laundry detergent tumbles down the steps, but luckily Wendy does not.*
[Boy]
The washing machine was indeed rumbling, but the sudden yelp and tumbling sounds both catch him by surprise. He's dropped whatever he was doing and is looking up from the bottom of the steps, his larger, harier glabro form looking up expentantly at first, and then relaxing. He picks up the bottle.
"You alright up there?"
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy clutches the railing, prying a small pointy stone out of her foot. She looks up at him in glabro and starts, before her expression grows shy and fond. This form she had grown more accustomed to. This was still Boy. Her head dips in a nod.* y-yes. Um.. Just stepped on a s-stone. Dis I disturb you?
[Boy]
"Oh. No. My fault, I should'a cleaned them up. No, come on down. I wanna show you somethin'."
[Wendy Berber]
Oh um.. Ok. *She's heading down, barefeet slapping against the wooden staircase. An overlarge white t-shirt hangs off her bones, over top green basketball shorts. Wendy extends her hands for the soap, suddenly nervous.*
[Boy]
Wendy gets the soap as well as an offered hand; a regular, homid form, Boy hand, once she reaches the bottom of the steps. The rickety work bench he has down there is lined with Items. A heap of stones from his pockets, the scratched helmet, and a half finished, carved wooden flute.
"I'm making gifts for people. Tell me what you think. Uh...these are for Sinclair and Joey." He indicated the flute and the helmet. "We've had a bit of tension with the whole Dietrich thing. He suggested getting an iPod or something, but we don't have that kind of money. I figure as long as it's music, right?"
[Wendy Berber]
oh um.. *She considers, then nods. She suspected the glasswalker would love an Ipod. But they truly did not have money. Not yet anyhow. She looks at the stones and the helmet quizzically.*
[Boy]
"Ah. This helmet's still good. I mean the inner lining's intact, and the shell is in one piece. Its just scratched up. I figure I can paint it up and...I dunno. I'm honestly not sure about it, to tell the truth. Just like these." He indicates the stones and the strands of leather. "They're supposed to be for the Unbroken Circle; Marcus's pack. And I hear Wahya might be joining them too. Just polished stones and a necklace or bracelet or something. I was thinking of asking Marrick to add her touch. Like she did with these, y'know?"
He holds up his wrist, indicating the yellow bit of twine.
"But I dunno. I dunno how they'd take something like that. Folks here...its hard to guess their reactions."
[Wendy Berber]
Um, I think that all sounds ok. *Wendy presses her lips together.* I'm um, not great with gifts either.
[Boy]
He gives a half smile, tapping on the table and considering. Eventually he nods and turns to Wendy.
"You uh...you busy? I guess you were doing Laundry, huh?"
[Wendy Berber]
*She looks down to the laundry soap in her hands as if just remembering it was there.* Oh yeah. Um, sorry. *She finishes up adding the soap to the washer, sheepish.* I forgot to add detergent. *She regards him a moment, leaning on the washer in her garage sale clothes.* I'm done now, though.
[Boy]
"Well then maybe its a good time. For that thing we talked about."
[Wendy Berber]
Yeah maybe. *She presses thin lips together, rubbing the back of her neck with a spidery hand. She takes a deep breath, and sets the soap down on the washer with a determined thud. She raises her chin a little, saying more firmly.* Yeah.
[Boy]
His smile is soft and brief. He walks over to her cautiously, still fearing she would bolt. Gently, he takes her hands and places one on each of his shoulders, holding them there with just the weight of his own.
"So should we pick up where we left off or do you want to start all over?"
[Wendy Berber]
*She considers with a sharp intake of breath. The bookworm hadn't figured that one out yet. But it was one or the other damnit. His shoulders and squeezed by tense spindly hands as she murmurs* W-where we left off?
[Boy]
He nods. "Then close your eyes."
And once she does she can hear him breathing, along with the whirring rumble of the washing machine. Breathing deliberately loud. Focusing. And then...something strange happened to his clothes. For a moment it felt like they melted away and for an even shorter moment she felt bare, hot skin under her palms. But then it was replaced by the course thick shag that swam through her fingers. His hands fell away from hers. She felt his size expanding like a baloon being inflated, and even though the light in the basement wasn't the best, she would see the growing darkness of him through her eyelids.
The thing that she was holding on to couldn't help but growl, long and low, as if it had to for breathing. But then it huffed, and at this intimate closeness, she was bathed in its hot breath.
[Wendy Berber]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 1, 4, 8, 9 (Success x 1 at target 6)
((WP! Should I stay or should I go now?))
[Wendy Berber]
*She obliges, eyes flicking shut as she twitches her hands nervously on his shoulders. His form grows beneath her fingertips, boils out and upwards. Fur. Fur wasn't scary. Fur was pleasant even. But as his vague form takes shape despite her closed eyes, she makes a squeak of terror. Handfuls of fur are clenched tight to stop herself from fleeing. Wendy's breath comes in quick sharp gasps, her thin face pale and wan. The rumble nearly does her in, air spiking with the sharp scent of fear as her knees turn to jello and she sags a little.. But the reed thin girl doesn't go down, and as his humid breath puffs around her, she loosens her deathgrip. Eyes still shut.*
[Boy]
There was a massive head between her hands now. A massive head with a massive muzzle and a massive wet nose. The nuzzle nudges her slowly, starting at her legs and urging her upwards, to a propper stand. That huge wet nose met the side of her nose. Her chest. Her arms. The growl turned to more of a whine. A low pitched, terrifying whine.
[Wendy Berber]
Oh Boy Please no. P-please no.. *Whether she's asking him to stop touching her, whining at her, or to not snap off one of her arms like a stalk of celery is unclear. A panicked request as she slides clammy hands tentatively down his thick furry neck, to find wolfish jowls. She moves now, very slowly. biting hard on her lip in determination as her hands quest for shaggy withers. She leans forward until her face is against the fur of a flat shoulder, a deep breath before opening eyes. She leans back and takes him in. A hard swallow.*
[Boy]
And he responds by remaining still, allowing her to explore on her own terms. The expanding of its very breathing makes it frightening, and now he was breathing slowly, steadily, standing as still as he could manage. When she opens her eyes he's in the same position, only a massive head inclines slightly, and intensely brown wolf eyes watch her feet and hands.
[Wendy Berber]
*Big. Thats the word that immediately springs to mind. She was looking furred death in the face. A wince. Looking at? She was touching furred death. She takes terrified stock of him, wide eyed. Its several long tense moments before she manages to croak.* Ok. *And give a terse nod. She's seen him. And quite survived. her heart finally slowly so that it isn't painful in her chest. She stoops and rests her face on his fur once more, murmuring again.* Ok. *Eyes slip shut behind the cat-eye glasses*
[Boy]
And he's changing again, this time getting smaller, this time the fur fades and the arms move. The T-shirt he was wearing is back. The voice he used is back.
"Only one more. Keep them closed."
More breathing. And then, more growing. Only whereas the last one was a soft sea of fur this one is all muscle, rock hard, sliding like bricks under her fingers, under the shirt. Then the shirt too is gone. Fur takes its place one again, and if her face were to remain on her shoulders she'd have to reach a lot higher.
There's no growling this time. There's only a single huff of breath when its finished.
[Wendy Berber]
Dice Rolled:[ 4 d10 ] 2, 4, 7, 10 (Success x 2 at target 6)
((WP - If I go there will be trouble, if I stay it will be double..))
[Wendy Berber]
Oh Gaia! *She gasps, cringing a little. Teeth clamp hard on her lip as the shoulder she was using stretched up and away from her. No. She was not firghtened of this. This was Boy damnit. Boy. Who talked to ghosts and cried in her arms and stole kisses. Her hands come out in front of her, shakily mapping what was in front of her. Eyes flick open as well.*
[Boy]
And as she found whirls of fur on his heavy chest and opened her eyes to see the brown and grey crinos, he was sure to have his eyes closed. There were some things about the change. They took away certain parts of him and replaced others. This was his warform. And while it was still Boy in there; in the same way that he couldn't stop his hispo form from growling, he was certain that he couldn't stop this form from looking like it wanted to kill something.
Boy kept his eyes shut. He kept his huge clawed hands at his side. He didn't touch her this time, or nudge her into opening her eyes. He just filled the room with himself.
The washing machine churned steadily.
[Wendy Berber]
*A squeak in her throat. She'd only been this close to a trueborn in his war form once before. And that encounter had left her bloodied and mending for the better part of a month. But this was Boy. And she would know him. If she were going to be a good and worthwhile mate. She presses clammy hands against hard slabs of muscle, trying twice for words before whispering hoarsely.* I'll know you now.
[Boy]
If the beast in front of her could smile it probably would have, but it didnt, for the same reason Boy didn't open his eyes. Still, those clawed hands moved slowly and pressed against the kinfolks hands with a loving sort of pressure.
But suddenly the washing machine stops, and at the same instant it emits a a sharp, obnoxious, and startling buzz.
Snap your fingers. No, that was too slow. Blink. No, still too slow. Think about blinking. That's how fast the Crinos went from steady, gentle giant, to....
To the bulky, but considerably smaller, Glabro form. And in his Glabro form he'd leaped backward, turning toward the washing machine and still backing away. That...was not the expected reaction.
[Wendy Berber]
*She'd been relaxing in infinitesimal degrees as he pressed her hands with care, and then the dryer spoils everything. Wendy gasps and gets ready to- oh. Ink blue eyes blink behind her spectacles.* Oh.. um. W-washer ding. W-wash is r-ready for the dryer...
[Boy]
He was panting, startled and slightly panicked, and swallowed hard looking between Wendy and the washer. After a while every breath that he took saw him growing smaller, less hairy, less fearsome.
"Oh. Uh...It just...surprised me, that's all."
[Wendy Berber]
*Its suddenly Wendy's turn to offer comfort. She moves toward him and wraps spindly arms around Boy's diminishing bulk. Something about seeing him literally shrink in fear compelling her to be brave instead.* are you okay Boy?
[Boy]
"I'm uh...I'm fine. Are you okay? I mean...did I scare you?"
[Wendy Berber]
*Wendy nods.* b-but you're um.. su-supposed to be scary.
[Boy]
He nods at that and manages to smile a little.
"You did good though. Very brave. I'm proud."
[Wendy Berber]
Thanks. *She blushes, breaking away to flip laundry and wipe her sweaty palms on her shirt.* I'm s-sorta hungry. I'll make us some oatmeal. Kay? *and with that she's up the stairs and gone. Room to breathe and think again.*
[Boy]
He waits for a while, gathering his own head before heading up. Stupid washing machine.
[Wendy Berber]
(FADE!)
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