ArchivedLogs:Suddenly, Ferret!: Difference between revisions

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{{ Logs
{{ Logs
| cast = [[Anima]], [[Mirror]], [[Parley]], [[NPCs#Joshua|Joshua]]
| cast = [[Anima]], [[Mirror]], [[Parley]], [[NPCs#Joshua|Joshua]]
| summary = (takes place immediately following joshua's disappearance from [[Logs:Scrambled (Prometheus Raid, Team 1)‎|raid]].)
| summary = (takes place immediately following joshua's disappearance from [[ArchivedLogs:Scrambled (Prometheus Raid, Team 1)‎|raid]].)
| gamedate = 2013-10-16
| gamedate = 2013-10-16
| gamedatename =  
| gamedatename =  

Latest revision as of 05:00, 19 October 2020

Suddenly, Ferret!

meanwhile, back at greyhaus...

Dramatis Personae

Anima, Mirror, Parley, Joshua

In Absentia


2013-10-16


(takes place immediately following joshua's disappearance from raid.)

Location

<NYC> 603 {Greyhaus} - Village Lofts - East Village


This apartment is bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a small living room. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom.

The decor in this apartment is eclectic, an odd jumbled mishmash of found items that seem to bear little relation to each other. Here, a newspaper article is clipped and pinned to the wall with various lines highlighted in pink and orange highlighter, here an advertisement, here the label off a beer can. The furniture is eclectic, too. A milk crate for a table, a soft (orange!) suede ottoman (with no armchair to match), a very /bright/ magenta vinyl couch. Someone has helpfully affixed a sheet of paper to the wall over the couch, with the label 'COUCH' and an arrow pointing downward. A combination corkboard/whiteboard near the kitchen entryway more often bears odd scribbled drawings than helpful information.

Late evening, the night of the Prometheus raid. While the Lofts hang suspended in eerie silence, awaiting for the inundation of rescued mutants soon to flood inside its walls there remain certain ambivalent residents, content and at home. Resting. Inactive. At least, not exerting any effort towards heroism, although Anima(in a Zachary body) applies a deep concentration towards the finds of hir latest junk raid: a broken projector. Well, what once /was/ a broken projector has long since been restored to its former newly-bought technological prime, two cords plugged into a laptops so a large blue screen of light encompasses an entire wall.

You see, while /Joshua/ may feel the urge to enlist himself in suicidal Prometheus raids, /Anima/ has taken it upon hirself to institute a home-movie night.

Mirror is handling SNACKS for this shindig. Movie night means POPCORN, ze has learned that much about People. Currently in Joshua guise, Mirror has taken to the kitchen to pop a potful of kernels; he returns in sweats and an old FDNY t-shirt, bowl of popcorn in hand. Not butter and salt but maple syrup and chili powder. Mirror might only have learned so much about the ways of popcorn, so far. Or maybe it's just because this is DELICIOUS.

It's alright, Parley has been putting nutritional yeast on his popcorn lately. Sprawled back in a pair of cut-off shorts and an undershirt with the back cut out of it to allow his fur to breathe, he's tucked in neatly on the couch with his legs crossed, both hands folded over his ankles. Anima brought the projector, Mirror took up food, so HE decided on a movie: O Brother, Where Art Thou? playing with the volume on high. The Cyclops is currently squashing a frog in his bare fist and throwing it at a tree.

Propped against Anima, Parley draws up a knee to make room for Mirror to sit - strategically, he's placed himself in the middle. Where HIS lap will make the best place for the bowl.

Anima contorts hir legs into a criss-crossed pretzel, effecting some semblance of yoga-ready zen where ze sprawls on the sofa, bent to the right to lean on the cushioned arm-rest. Hir attention now rivets itself on the action portrayed on the wall, wide-eyed and captivating, this is full cerebral engagement of the much sheltered psionic entity presiding over /this/ consciousness. Until the olfactory allure of popcorn distracts, one overscoring line of an eyebrow hitched at the toppings brought along. "...I do not think that is how you popcorn." A statement not preventing hir from reaching to relieve Mirror!Joshua of the maple syrup.

"This is how you popcorn." Joshirror is /firm/ about this. Confident! And scowls slightly at Anima's flagrant syrup theft, answering it by upending a fair bit of chili powder into the bowl. Tossing it lightly up and down and then settling it into Parley's lap. "It's the best way to popcorn. I also tried garam masala." << Poor frog, >> is an absent thought. << Squish. >> "You open the cap and drizzle the syrup on," he supplies in helpful addition to Anima, just in case Anima was /unaware/ how to operate -- a syrup bottle.

What is that shuddery-exhale sound? Parley finds himself makinga broken laugh-sound at the little wet 'splat' the frog makes, looking vaguely startled to hear the it coming from himself. << (he just)(beat them all with a stick). >> He relays it at either of them in a sort of flat delight - Like, that just happened, you can just DO that! "Popcorn me." He says it just... scooping his hands blindly into the bowl, scooping up a cupful of chili-kernels. And waiting for the whole mess to be syruped. Eyes still riveted on the big screen.

And then, as Parley is waiting to be syruped, there is a sudden SPLOOSHING scattering of popcorn kernels, thrown up all into Parley's lap. A small black-masked pointy head pokes itself out of the bowl. The head shakes suddenly in a very tiny /sneeze/ at the chili powder sprinkled across the ferret's snout. There is a mind in here, more prominent than most animal minds -- by and large it is very /ferret/. Curiosity. Excitment. A large dose of disorientation that is being shoved aside in favour of OOH! Ooh? Newthings? NEWTHINGS?

But beneath that -- somewhere quiiiiet beneath that, flat and tired and laced with Joshua's sardonic tone. << Well, fuck. >>

"I am not so sure." Zachary!Anima remains skeptical, puzzlement writ all across his face, smoothing out into clean, youthful lines only when he obtains the bottle of syrup. What brief scowl he shoots Joshirror dissipates as he flicks open the cap with a jut of his thumbnail, licking the gooey amber droplet that crowns the spout of the bottle. "Wait, there's a frog in the popcorn? Wh-" Oh, the /screen/ ze answers for hirself, commenting to Parley, << i-enjoyed-that-part >> in hir flooding stream of consciousness.

The actual bursting of the popcorn bowl incites very little emotion from Zachary, controlled by his more stern host. Only a wry twitch of the mouth downward indicates a lament for the lost kernels, grey-blue gaze transfixed on the rodent in the bowl. "I think the proper term for this is, 'what the fuck' is this thing doing here," he says in a quiet monotone, otherwise /staring/. << it-speaks >>

Mirror does startle, twitch-jumping slightly at the sudden appearance of popcorn!ferret. Hir fingers tense up into fists, eyes focusing in stark bemusement on the bowl. << Ferret, >> ze finally identifies, though this does nothing to lessen the puzzlement in hir mind. << Did we order ferret? Doesn't go with maple syrup. >> And then, after a moment of reflection, << Dusk has one of these. >> Ze leans in closer to the bowl, scrutinizing deeply as if to compare. << His doesn't sound like Joshua. >>

Caught ever somewhere between the minds around him, Parley's expression was wide-eyed for the film playing and /remains/ fixed wide-eyed to find himself face-to-face with a little robber's mask. His cupped hands, now empty save some chili, some fur, remain hovering there. Like he DID something. Like it's on a timer, the ridge of fur lining up down his spine slowly starts to stand upright like the long fuze of a bomb. Ssssss -- when it reaches the scarred base of his spine, he says abruptly, "This one's our Joshua." Slowly, he looks over at Joshua!Mirror, "Our other Joshua. Ferret. Why is our -" And then sneezes mightily, sending up another red cloud of chili.

Joshua!ferret is wriggling himself up out of the bowl, scattering more popcorn as he goes and threatening to tip the /entire/ bowl over. As if in mimicry he sneezes again a moment after Parley does -- and then startles himself with that sneeze, falling out of the bowl to land on his back, stretched between Parley's lap and Anima's. He freezes for a moment, all paws in the air, and then starts frantically wriggling his way -- anywhere. Nowhere. He doesn't seem to have a good destination in mind, tipping off the edge of the couch with a thud onto the floor and a little dusty red splotch of chilipowder left in his wake. His thoughts are erratic, jumping from << (food) >> to << (play?) >> to << (help them) >> though the people he intends to help are certainly nowhere in evidence.

Anima has never viewed one of these creatures in real life before! A sort of reverent fascination begins to assert itself, prompting hir to hold out a hand, stretched, tentative. It hovers, jerked back at the wet expulsion of air from Parley's sinuses, maple syrup bottle dropped as the ferret spills into his lap and hold dead still until Joshua!ferret scurries to the floor. << i-do-not-think-this-is-normal-why-is-joshua-a--what-did-you-call-him-a-long-rat >>

<< Ferret, >> Mirror says again. << They have the mask. >> Ze points to it, the little dark bandit-mask around Joshua's eyes. << Did he just fall. Over his own feet. >> Hir head tips to one side, regarding the ferret with continuing bemusement. << Help who? >> nudges back against all their minds, Joshua's included. << Why is he a ferret? >> he completes Parley's thought and echoes Anima. << I don't remember him being a ferret before. >>

"He - going." All tawny fur and sharp guard hairs all BUSHED UP, Parley's hands remain cupped together where he'd forgotten them, so that he has to lean to the side to peer around them after the creepsome ferret's erratic course. He sneezes again, sniffs, "--He's going. That way." Is that alright, CAN Joshua go that way, it's his apartment maybe they should... << (doesn't normally)(ferret.) >> Ferret makes a decent verb.

Finally, hesitantly, Parley sets the bowl down on the ground and brushes along the (BRIGHT! CURIOUS!) surface of the ferret's mind, seeking that slight... /catch/ where the second one, the familiar one, is levered beneath. And then presses hard to it, lets the mind topple into him with a shaky(happy? alarmed? startled?) exhale that rises a sudden flush to his cheeks. His mind lights up down fragmented-bright corridors like a hundred mirrors, bouncing FERRET(...and Joshua) back to both Mirror and Anima as, gently, grooming, he reaches out. << (...joshua.) >> Soft-touch, familiar knead. << (what's happening.)(why are you)(--ferretweaselfreakingout-delicious.) >>

Joshuaferret's mind doesn't so much brush back up against Parley's as it does /leap/, a bright eager /bound/ into this familiar space, treating it like an invite to play? play play play? On the ground, Joshua is bouncing back towards his room, quiet little dook-dook noises as he hops backwards-backwards-backwards-/thud/ in a sudden topple-roll. He huffs out another sneeze as he rights himself. << Ferret, >> he agrees, sounding kind of /disgruntled/ about this beneath the rapidly bouncing thoughts. << Bullets-scrambled-cages. Girl. Woman? >> There's flashes of imagery to go with this, concrete Promethean walls, buzzing drones shooting rapidly. Walls crumbling. A secondhand flicker of pain. << still-there. Need-to-help. >>

<< oh-a-mask-i-see-it-now-does-it-carry-disease-though >> floats the effervescent inquiry, disintegrating as a bubble up against the other minds in the room. Zachary mobilizes at last, hunched forward, elbows dropped on his knees to peer down at the ferret on the floor. "Joshua. Come here." He leans further, tapping on the space between his feet with a nail. Tap tap tap tap tap. He wants to pet the ferret. To explore with Anima's /own/ mind probe. "I'm sure they're alright." So indifferent.

<< Do you carry diseases? >> Mirror seems briefly alarmed by this possibility. Backs away a couple inches along the couch. << They won't let you on your ambulance without the proper vaccinations. >> There's a pause, eyes tracking Joshua's bouncing progress along the floor; he admits a moment later with a touch of uncertainty: << They may not let you on your ambulance with those small paws. >> Useless for trauma care, really. << ... does your team require a ferret? >> He's thinking of Dusk's, now. << Alanna's had more practice being one. >> It's a /suggestion/, clearly: they could send her!

<< or (rabies?) >> Parley speculates, sounding oddly hopeful. << (toxoplasma?)(hookworms?) >> So easily the psionic slip, to mental touch and interwoven minds on a silent frequency. It makes much of the room have a curious hush, letting O Brother, Where Art Thou? play a surreal background ditty, rising and falling with volume as scenes pass by. Stalking on hands and toes, the punky hyena ridge down his spine standing up prominently. He reaches out a hand to hook under, around, GATHER (roll?) the ferret nearer to himself. << (joshua.) >> He says, frankly. << (you probably)(need help)(first.) >>

Joshua is eying Anima's tapping /suspiciously/, but the taptaptap of fingers proves too good a lure to pass up on. BOUNCE bounce bounce BOUNCE -- he /launches/ himself at Anima's hand, little paws wrapping to try and /wrestle/ it. At least until he is scooped up, at which point he very promptly goes limp in Parley's hand, head flopped down over fingers to dangle, upside-down, surveying the room from this new vantage point. << You all got. Big. >> Joshua is back to disgruntled now. << Need -- >> The thought of his ambulance strikes him as alarming. Shit. Work. << Sleep. >> Being a ferret is /very/ exhausting.

Zachanima continues to clickclick against the ground, bewildered when it provokes an /attack/ on his hand. The desired effect succeeds just the same, physical contact brokering hir /own/ delve into that ferreted Joshua brain, sifting through his recent memories-- until he exchanges hands. << no-i-do-not-think-he-is-diseased-just- >> "Give him /back/," he urges at Parley, swiping at him. "..." << did-joshua-die-maybe-there-was-rabies >> A sleeping/dead ferret is inanimate, and for a brief second, hir attention wanders back to the epic playing on the screen. Mooovie. Then: ferret. << he-could-sleep-in-the-popcorn-bowl >>

<< He does not sound rabid. We could, >> Mirror racks hir brain for an appropriate rabies test. << Put him in water. >> But this prompts him to just /eye/ the kitchen -- so far away! Water is such a distant goal! and in the end he just picks up the popcorn bowl. Still half-full of popcorn, but hey, it's /sort/ of the same consistency as small animal bedding, right? Mirror takes up hir seat on the side of the couch again, holding out the bowl towards Parley. Shaking the popcorn in it a little bit, indicatively.

<< (not rabid.)(just boneless.)(like an eel.) >> A... de-boned eel. Rapid movement startles up a deeper nature, Parley recoiling from Zanima's swiping to ball up Joshua!Ferret beneath his chin and, standing for a moment, plant a bare foot on Zanima's /chest/. MINE. The spicy smell of chili curling into his nostrils dips out an absent tongue to sandpaper-bathe the ferret's coat. << (we need) >> he contributes, clipped and soft, while setting the pie-shaped ferret down amongst the spicy-soft burst kernels and kind of awkwardly... fluffing it up around him. Like a pillow. << (to rewind.) >> He sits down then, to re-claim the bowl into his lap, fishing out a handful of popcorn from around the side of Joshua. << (i missed)(the last scene.) >>

The popcorn rustles in the bowl. Joshua sneezes again. And then curls himself down into a small-ball, nestling among the popcorn kernels to promptly fall asleep.