ArchivedLogs:Thwip All The Things

Thwip All The Things
Dramatis Personae Anole, Howl, Shane, Sebastian, Peter
In Absentia	2013-07-21 Post Morlock Search.
Location <MOR> Welcome to the Freakshow
Wider and more spacious than many of the surrounding nooks and niches, this chill cavern is the central hub of the Morlock's underground network. With tunnels branching off in many directions, it takes a while to learn to /navigate/ from here to where you want to go, but there's generally plenty of more experienced people around to teach newcomers the ins and outs of the pathways. Here, though, is a safe place to come and relax, for what value of relaxation can be found among moss-covered walls and the occasional stagnant puddles on the floor. There's been furniture brought in, a mismatched assortment of crates, mattresses with busted springs, a few broken and subsequently repaired chairs, a folding table in a corner. Shelves along a wall hold entertainment; books, a smattering of board and card games, sometimes snacks. There's even electricity, wiring none too safe and visible in places where the wall has been broken open; the naked light bulbs flicker often and the lone outlet has had so many power strips attached it is undoubtedly a fire hazard. Peter and the twins /eventually/ arrive in the Morlock lair! Blundering blithely into the depths of the sewers, they're soon peering about for Anole -- with Peter quickly relaxing once the darkness of the tunnels gives way to the interior light of where the Morlocks hang out. Peter himself is clad in a red hoodie and blue jeans; he has two unusual black panels sticking out of his shoulders -- panels that are gently whirring now! He's also got on his thwippy things and a black nylon backpack stuffed to the /gills/ with delicious meat-products, a few books, and a second set of thwippy things. "Do you think," Peter mentions to the sharktwins as they delve deeper into MORLOCKIA, "he'd want to come to the -- uh, thing? On Fridays? I kinda don't want to like -- freak him out but he's kind of... it might help him? To learn how to -- do that sort of stuff." "/Totally/ he's gotta come," Shane says, "that motherfucker /needs/ to learn --" "-- I was planning on inviting him," Sebastian says, more quietly, "it'd be good for him, I think." The twins are -- very tiny. Very blue. Very blandly dressed, long beige hiking pants and boots; Shane has on a red t-shirt and red collar around his neck, Sebastian a black hoodie that reads HERBIVORE in a yellow cross over the chest. They also both have backpacks of their own, also quite -- heavily stuffed! "I mean he's /really/ easily freaked out," Shane says with a crooked grin, "-- we kinda -- maybe want to -- change that?" Sebastian sounds hopeful. He is relaxing, too, less for the light and more for the /Morlockia/ around them. And Shane is /sniffing/ around. On the hunt. For lizardscent. Sniff snifffffffffffff. Sebastian is joining him in this venture. Sniff? "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" Anole is not hard to find. The sight of tiny blue sharktwins and gleamy blueblack spiderface has brought a lizard /skittering/ down a wall from somewhere up higher above -- his room, no doubt, shown to them before but /fairly/ inaccessible without wallcrawling. Or thwippy things. Or /flight/. "Ohmy/god/ you /guys/." SKITTERSKITTER, Anole is charging headfirst down the wall, in shorts and a t-shirt advertising some high school's production of Guys and Dolls, baggy-large on his skinny frame. "GUYS. What are you /doing/ down here oh my /god/." And then there is no more skitteringlizard, just a /pouncing/ lizard launching himself off the wall at -- anyone, really, he's apparently /attempting/ to latch on to all /three/ of them at once but he'll take hugs in turn if he absolutely /has/ to. The sound of voices, most of them unfamiliar, travel pretty well through the tunnels -- and are that much easier to pick up when you have big ol' ears. Consequently, shortly after the arrival of Peter and the twins, one of the formerly disused tunnels soon has a head poking out of it. Tilted curiouslike, ears twitchy, but sight of Anole swooping in seems assurance enough that /all is well/. But, Howl is curious enough about the group to stroll in, quietly, staying near to the entrance to that tunnel but otherwise not drawing attention to himself. He'll just stand off to the side and watch all creepy-like. Howl is also dressed rather more sedately than he was when he arrived; a plaid button-down shirt, a pair of heavy work pants, suspenders over his shoulders, some sturdy boots, and there's a brush strapped to his left hand. Arms crossed over his chest, he's watching the group in a way that almost suggests he's not really sure exactly what this thing is you Earth humans call friendship. What is this strange emotion you humans call friendship? PERHAPS IT IS AN ANOLE. Peter perks as the young Morlock descends toward them, briefly wide-eyed; when Anole pounces, Peter steps back to give him room -- to gather! And tackle! Sharktwins, and possibly a Peter. One arm slinging around to /squeeze/ Anole around the shoulder, very firmly! "We were worried," Peter tells Anole, grinning. "Also we haven't seen you in /forever/ plus I was supposed to deliver your thwippy things /also/--" Peter's words are briefly cut off as he notices -- OH HEY. Eyebrows /shoot/ up, before he speaks in a conspiratorial whisper: "--Anole is that. Does that person have. Oh my God are those /foxears/?" Followed by another squeeze, and: "We brought a bunch of books and stuff, too." "DUDE." Shane's grin is very wide and /very/ toothy, sharp teeth gleaming as he tips his head back -- and then back down to follow Anole's descent. He opens his arms wide, /gathering/ smalllizard in for /all the hugs/, pulling him towards all three of them to just sort of -- groupsqueeze. "Oh /man/ do you know I worried you were fucking --" "-- the city's been rough," Sebastian says, more quietly, streeeetching up on his toes so he can bonk his face lightly against an /un/spiky part of Anole's hard carapace. "I was -- well. I'm glad. That you're -- we brought books," he says again, "and --" "-- salami. And fruit. And some geekass fucking --" "-- there's a couple new card games," Sebastian says with a blush, "I think you'll like them. There's one where you tell a lot of stories. I thought a lot of the kids might -- like that." "Oh my god," Shane's looking up to notice the ears too! And then the person attached to them, "-- Anole, when did you import /smoking hotties/ down here. I mean. Other ones. Besides you." Sebastian is too busy hugging to facepalm, so he hides his face briefly against Anole's shoulder instead. "-- Hi," he offers shyly to Howl. "You brought books," Anole squeaks this almost as eagerly as his greeting. "Oh -- oh oh, oh wowthanks." He burrows into the hugging, squeezing each of the others in turn before -- "They /are/ and he -- wait, hot -- um, oh, that's --" His cheeks are flushing a litle darker green as he turns, but his smile is bright. "Howl! Howl these are -- my --" He hesitates a moment but then sounds oddly happy-proud when he continues, "my /friends/, come -- they brought. Things. Also hugs! And things. Guys that's -- Howl, I /found/ him and brought him home." BRIGHT red flushes up Howl's cheeks at the pronouncement of /hot/ and he'll-- just pretend he didn't hear that, for now. "Prynhawn da," he offers, lifting his empty hand in a little half-wave. He's actually hunched over a bit, what with the low ceiling, sort of as a precautionary measure more than anything, and so when he steps the rest of the way into the gathering area it's in slightly awkward steps. And then come out the tails-- so many tails-- possibly /all/ the tails, from their hiding place, trailing behind him all casually, a few of them freshly groomed! He stops a few feet away from the teens, looking them over and smiling just a touch uncertainly. "Young Master Anole, it is good to see you out and about." His Welsh accent is pretty thick, but he tries to compensate by speaking slowly, and Anole's explanation is also corroborated with a few thoughtful nods. "I feel I may have been a bit out of sorts when the young sir found me, but I've been much more comfortable since coming underground. You are friends from the outside?" "--/you/ brought him down here?" Peter asks Anole, suddenly grinning. Contributing to group-hug! But having to crouch a little, because he is. TALLER THAN ALL OF THEM. Peter shoves a hand in there afterward to squeeze Anole's shoulder, probably managing to accidentally squeeze a shark in the process. "--but yeah we met. Skeletor too, on our way in. Also oh my /God/, Shane, you are going to make everyone bl--" All of these words are cut off as Peter /stares/. At Howl's tails. Eyes wide as saucers. Just kind-of-frozen in place. Before: "Ohmygod he has -- you have -- /tails/ so many tails. Oh my /God/ do you have. Do you have /nine/ of them that is /totes cray cray/." Yes, Peter still says that. "Anole where did you find him also uh hello yes! I mean. I guess we are from outside? Uh. My name is Peter!" "Oh my fucking god." Shane drops the hug to just stare at Howl's tails, too, with -- open admiration. "That is the most incredibly gorgeous -- /wow/." He, at least, says /this/ with none of the previous licentiousness -- just with huge-big eyes, a wondering smile. "So /floofy/," Sebastian agrees, and then blushes slightly deeper blue. "-- Hi. I'm Bastian. That's," with a gesture towards his clone, "Shane." "We live up top so I guess yeah," Shane shrugs, "but I don't think we're like -- assholes. OK, I mean, /I'm/ an asshole," this comes with a sharptoothed grin again, "but Peter and B are /definitely/ not assholes." "It looks like it'd be more comfortable down here," Sebastian agrees wistfully. "Are you liking it?" "They're -- very floofy," Anole agrees, his smile a little lopsided, "-- and yeah, they're -- topside-friends. But they're good. Down here. -- /Are/ you liking it?" he's abruptly very interested in this answer. He leans into shoulder-squeeze, tucking himself against Peter's side when the twins turn aside to stare at the floofiness. "I found him! In the park. But the Park is kind of -- it's -- /not/ super comfortable," his head ducks, cheeks flushing darker, "-- lately, they're -- really /twitchy/ about us there so -- but I think it's better?" He looks to Howl hopefully for confirmation on this. "Here? -- What's Pryn--" he stumbles a little over this echo, "-- Pryn honda?" Nose wrinkling at all of the remarks regarding his tails, Howl sort of-- backs up a little bit, hands moving to try and /cover/ them-- not that they're y'know, coverable, and everyone's seen them /anyway/ and-- well, he's obviously kind of. Self-conscious. About nine tails. Still, he resolutely keeps up a polite smile, nodding as introductions occur. Anole's question gets a bit of a half-grin. "Prynhawn da. It is 'good afternoon'. Though, /is/ it afternoon? The sense of time down here is difficult." And then he turns to the other boys, nodding to each of them in turn. "Peter, Bastian and Shane. Very good to meet all of you." Bastian and Anole are addressed primarily, now, as Howl nods both to the observation and to the conern. "It has been... an adjustment? It's certainly more comfortable, not having to hide myself, but..." Scratching at his nose uncomfortably, he shakes his head a few times. "I must admit I'm not accustomed to this level of, ah, /attention/ regarding my..." There's a bit of a frown, there, as he searches for the right word. "...complication." "OhjeezI'msorry," Peter says, the shoulder-squeeze becoming a full /arm/ squeeze around Anole's shoulders for a moment as he tucks against his side; violet creeps into his dark face, surging up from his neck. "I keep forgetting uh like I'm, new at this stuff I forget it's -- weird? For some people? With the whole uh -- but yeah it's good that you've got -- that you're." Peter waves his hand at Howl. "--more. Comfortable. Uhm. Here." He grins, before adding: "Shane's a jerk but he's a /cool/ jerk. Also, /oh/ yes," and now Peter is releasing Anole, slinging his backpack down! And searching through it. Search, search, root, root. Until! He finds THWIPPY WRIST-THINGS. Pulling them out, holding them up triumphantly! "Oh! Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, yeah, I --" Sebastian is blushing, too, dipping his head apologetically. "-- Been freaks so long," Shane explains lightly, "forget not everyone's used to it. Glad you found good folks, though. Or," with a elbowpoke to Anole, "glad they found /you/. -- Do you," he asks with sudden intense seriousness (this is /important question/!), "like Slim Jims?" "How can you not like Slim Jims?" Sebastian wants to know. "Prynhawn da," Shane echoes this sort of absently, "what is that? I mean what language?" "-- It's probably afternoon still," Bastian agrees, "I don't think we're in evening yet." "-- Ohmygod," Anole is ignoring /everything else/ in sudden favour of grabbyhandsing at the thwippy things, "-- are those for /me/? Like really? Like for my /own/? -- Shane's not a jerk," he suddenly returns to the rest of the conversation with a puzzled frown. "And /I'm/ glad I found him /too/." While all of that is going down, Howl circles around the group to find himself a chair to hunker down in, if nothing else so that he can lift his head into a more comfortable position. He bends his head from one side to the other, working out a kink, and what with the tails he does have to sit a bit awkwardly. They're all pulled around to one side, and legs folded underneath them, while he leans a bit on the opposite arm of the chair. "I am Welsh," he answers, perking up just a bit. That's something he's a bit more comfortable discussing, apparently! "From Wales. It's in Great Britain." This is noted not with any condescension, but just as if he legitimately thinks Shane might not actually /know/. "I didn't mean to upset you, just that it was something we tried to avoid addressing in my... family." The word comes out with some difficulty. "I'm also afraid I don't know what is a Slim Jim." "He /is/ he's just not a jerk to you because you're pretty," Peter tells Anole, but this announcement is accompanied with a grin. As he hands over the thwippy things to Anole, he whispers, /maybe/ not so quietly, as if he were imparting a secret: "You're right though, he's actually a total sweetie." Then, louder: "Yeah, they're yours. Um, I'll give you like, two canisters to start with? And -- I'll have to -- go over some of the safety stuff with you, before we go? Because they're actually kind of dangerous. /These/ ones don't explode though," Peter announces, as if this was a miraculous step toward safety! "--you're from. Britain?" Peter asks, suddenly poking up to peer at Howl a little curiously. "Like -- how did you end up -- um I dunno is that rude to ask? I /guess/ you came on a plane but I heard it's kind of -- hard? For some people to -- maybe," Peter adds, glancing thoughtfully at Shane and Sebastian's hands, "it's just hard when you have claws? Also Slimjims are--" Well, he doesn't finish this. Apparently deciding SHANE and SEBASTIAN can better explain! "Were your family dickbags?" Shane asks. Sebastian cringes. "Not /everyone's/ family is -- some people just don't really know how to --" He fidgets a little awkwardly, and instead leaps on a topic he is TOTALLY comfortable with: "Slim Jims are /basically/ the greatest thing on /earth/." He slips his backpack off his shoulders -- though mostly now for the sake of not having to hold it! Because it's Shane's backpack he's scooting towards to /ransack/, opening it up to pull out a loooong plastic-wrapped Slim Jim. There are /so many/ inside. He even unpeels the top! And then darts forward to offer it to Howl. "It's meat. In convenient condensed form," Shane informs Howl. "You chomp it." He chomps his own teeth demonstratively. "How the fuck /did/ you manage that, Wales is far as hell. -- he's not pretty," he corrects Peter, "s'fucking gorgeous." "Ohmygodohmygod," Anole is still reciting quietly as he straps the thwippy things on to his wrists. And then gives Peter a bigger hug, tight squeeze. Probably less tight than he's /used/ to, Anole does not have shark strength. "He has a cloaking device for the tails," he informs the others cheerfully when they ask about flying, but -- "Oh! I'm --" The blush that floods his cheeks is /deep/; it only deepens when Shane makes his correction. His eyes wiiiiden; he toys with the strap of his new webshooters, looking down at them instead of at the others. "Oh -- I -- m'not -- um. Thank you," he says, and hastily clarifies with a lift of his wrists, "-- for these, that's -- oh my god I want to go swing on /all/ the things right now." He /frowns/ at Peter, though. "-- do yours explode, please don't. Explode yourself." "My parents were not--!" With a possibly startling near-/growl/, Howl actually starts to lift out of the chair again, with an accompanying baring of /fangs/, but he is quick to stop himself, sinking back down and lifting arms to cover his head, his ears folding back as he shakes it back and forth. "{I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I'm a good boy.}" His legs have gradually folded themselves up to his chest during his mumbling -- in Welsh, though the tone is pretty obviously (and somewhat disproportionately) remorseful -- and a long moment of silence while he calms himself down passes before he slowly lowers his hands again, eyeballing Bastian's offered Slim Jim and biting his lower lip a little, nervously. "...{I didn't mean to-- did I frighten you? I'm terribly--} ... I'm terribly sorry. I forget myself sometimes." Peter /grins/, receiving the hug! And returning it, maybe almost lifting Anole off the ground in the process! "Yeah, mine do, but I mean -- not like fire-splosion? I have a setting to make the webbing all 'splode at once, turns it into a web-nade? But..." The smile flickers, for a moment. "--used it once, it's /crazy/ dangerous. You could suffocate if it went off in your face. But these ones have all sorts of other settings and -- also you /are/ pretty--" Whatever the next word is! It's cut off by both Shane's comment and Howl's response; the baring of teeth quickly gets Peter's attention, but! Rather than being afraid, he just looks worried. The worry intensifies when Howl starts mumbling in Welsh -- a glance to the twins, then to Howl -- tentatively stepping forward! "--hey it's totally okay um, like. Don't worry about it I think... we're kinda used to dealing with. /Growling/." Peter sheepishly grins. "Man yeah, sorry, we snarl all the damn time and /shit/ but it takes a lot to frighten B, really -- uh, dude, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that -- I'm sure your folks are great I just --" Shane shrugs, frowning as Howl folds himself up. "A lot of people's aren't, I didn't -- know." "Sorry," Sebastian says, more quietly. He drops his hand at that initial snarl but lifts it again when Howl starts folding himself up. He gently nudges against Howl's knee with the Slim Jim, his other hand tentatively reaching to his shoulder. "-- Really, sorry, we didn't mean any harm by it. Are you -- I'm sorry, are --" Very -- very tentative shoulder-squeeze. Anole squeezes back happily, a bright grin on his face as he bounces up onto his toes and then settles back down properly. "-- That sounds /awesome/!" His eyes light; he examines his wrists thoughtfully. "-- not the suffocating part but oh my /god/ can we make a /glue bomb/ -- oh." He turns wide eyes on Howl, abrupt concern washing into his face. "Oh! Oh Howl you're -- not speaking English those aren't English words. /Um/ I don't think they meant --" He skitters forwards, and he is not tentative at least in the creephug he darts in at Howl's side. "-- sorry you should eat a thing they're tasty? Tasty is good right?" There is one more, "I'm sorry," as Howl /gradually/ unfolds himself again, his legs falling to the floor and just nodding a few, slow times. Shoulder squeezes are not rebuffed! But he does look at both Bastian and Anole with a bit of confusion. The Slim Jim, however, is taken with one hand, and the other tentatively pats Anole's shoulder. "I've only been here for a short time, sometimes I'm not certain how-- I suppose other situations--" He's shaking his head, then, and gives Bastian's arm a little bump with his chin, since the hand on that side is full, and then! he tastes the Slim Jim. And squints a little, as he chews on the stick itself, having apparently a /bit/ of a hard time getting a bite off. When he does finally rip off a piece, chewing on it thoughtfully. "It tastes like.. hot sausage?" "--it's like. Meat poop in a plastic sleeve," Peter announces, with a cheerful grin! "Actually /I/ think it's pretty gross but the twins'll eat anything meaty they are like /super/ extreme carnivores but also it's totally fine, I mean as long as you're not -- /biting/--" Peter's face twitches, the grin spasming; violet returns for just a moment before the grin settles back down: "--/attacking/, I mean. Uh." Peter lingers back, propping his shoulder up against the wall. "It's okay." Bastian's arm presses up ino the chin-bump, but then he drops his hand from Howls' shoulder with a small smile. "I get the -- not -- really always understanding. Um. How to --" "-- People," Shane says, crooked grin returning. "We're pretty shitty at people, it takes some work to learn. -- Man it basically /is/ just. Like a giant crapsausage. Wrapped in plastic. It is the /best thing/." "It's okay, though, you /do/ learn. How to people?" Sebastian gestures around Morlockville. "You just need good people around to /help/." Shane turns his grin towards Anole. "And you've /got/ those. "-- That sounds gross I wanted one and now I /don't/," Anole bonks his head against Howl's arm, for a moment, as his nose wrinkles up. He gives another quick /squeeze/ before letting go. His cheeks are back to flushing at Shane's comment, again, it's getting to be something of a /habit/. "We should unpack your -- everything. That you brought. And --" He fidgets with the wristshooters excitedly. "And thwip. /All/ the things."