lucetilogs | New Species Event - Mass Interaction Log (take two)

[The people and animals and magical creatures of Luceti might see a fawn stumbling her way daintily around Community Housing Building 2. They might see her in the square crumpled elegantly over the fountain's edge, lapping water, or else in curled up in a patch of grass, regally hiding. Wherever she might be seen, however, it is of vital importance to note that she isn't likely to be standing up. For Thursday, getting used to having four legs is one thing – but these legs are long, it's high up here and far too wobbly. Falling down is easier. Staying down is easier. (http://i.imgur.com/zNWqw.jpg)]

[And suddenly, Rogue appears in a burst of smoke, sulfur, and brimstone. Stupid BAMFing. Stupid weird legs.]

Ugh. Walkin' sucks.

[Oh, Thursday agrees with you on more levels than she can count on her hooves. The sudden BAMFing-in startled her doe-like reflexes into propelling her up into a stable standing position, keen, alert, ready to dart away... And then.. now.. she's frozen there with an alarmed expression.]

Edited 2011-04-01 02:21 (UTC)

[Stupid tail. Stupid balance. Stupid Luceti..

Oh, hello. Rogue holds out her hand soothingly.]

Easy now. I ain't gonna hurt ya.

[It's like walking on stilts, which she could probably manage on any normal day but right now it's four stilts instead of two - so still really weird. Thursday tries to lift her right front leg, stiff and uneasy, and of course she loses her balance. That leg slides forward and away from her, the right one slips and follows, and pretty soon it's like she's bowing for Rogue, though he head is up in alarm rather than tucked down in reverence.]

Edited 2011-04-01 02:41 (UTC)

[Rogue moves into a crouch just because it's easier to stand that way.]

...don't usually see deer all the way out here. I'm guessin' this is new for you too, huh?

[Legs are shivering but steady. All of them. The muscles in her flank are starting to ache because she's probably not supposed to be staying in one position for this long at a time. Still, she feels safer now and it shows in the relaxing of some of the muscles in her neck. Her head lowers a little, then raises. Then it lowers again, and raises. She's nodding in reply to Rogue's question but it might well not be read that way. It's a subtle enough gesture. She's afraid to make sudden movements lest she tip herself over.

So this girl is a demon. Right? Spade tail, blue skin, fuzz, teleportation... but then, Thursday had heard tell of a young man by this description in Luceti. Kurt. And if the Shift could make her a fawn, it should definately be able to change Kurt's gender.]

[...]

Well, either it's new for ya, or I'm talkin' to a fawn. [This is her life now. Talking to wild beasts. While blue.] Ya think ya can handle yourself, little guy?

[Feeling adventurous, Thursday makes the attempt to follow through on her step forward. One back leg.. two legs.. And she's standing up again! Wobbly, but standing! Albeit her flank is up in the air on account of her keeping her back legs far too straight. She gives a happy chirrling sort of sound. If that little victory is anything to go by then she should be fine.

As long as no lions happen on by. Or .. really any predators at all.]

(no subject)

onebluebabe.livejournal.com - 2011-04-02 00:34 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

bookworldly.livejournal.com - 2011-04-02 02:31 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

onebluebabe.livejournal.com - 2011-04-03 16:35 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

bookworldly.livejournal.com - 2011-04-03 21:31 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

onebluebabe.livejournal.com - 2011-04-04 03:23 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

tofu-furget.livejournal.com - 2011-04-05 04:57 (UTC) - Expand

Bah. LJ didn't alert me about this -- of course. Sorry.

bookworldly.livejournal.com - 2011-04-10 13:55 (UTC) - Expand

[Well, she's much too big to eat...but Derek figures she's probably not for eating anyway. Not with the way she's wobbling about, and she's too old to be a newborn; he knows from hunting with his dad as a kid that it doesn't take long for a deer to learn to walk and run. If they didn't, they'd be dead fairly quickly.

Still...yeah, she's definitely having problems down there.

Derek will land on a nearby, low hanging branch, watching this. He'll give a tentative squawk.]

[Were Thursday human she would pay little heed to this bird. Its beauty might catch her attention, its rarity, but more likely she'd overlook it as a feature of the woods and a part of the setting. Old habits die hard.

As a fawn she treats the newcomer in a very similar manner - forgetting her new shape even as she mopes there cursing it. When it squawks it gets her attention though. There's something primal warning her to take notice.
Her head snaps up suddenly. Is it human? Another victim of the Malnosso? She'd like to think so, but for a former human it's having surprisingly little trouble flying. If born a bird, has she reason to fear it? On the one hand she's no rodent, but on the other she's a sitting duck. She'd better do her best to look fierce then.

Presently she clambers slowly to a standing position and draws a deep breath, puffs out her chest, raises her chin. For good measure she makes a loud of a sound as she can muster. Scared yet, bird?]

[The hawk will tilt its head sideways and puff out a little, making a series of chirps that sound suspiciously like a chuckle. It'll mince sideways a little on the branch, but make no other moves. Even if he were truly a hungry hawk, she's too big and too lively to take on. As it is, he's just wondering the same thing as her; is this another resident...or an oddly acting fawn?]

[Is the hawk .. laughing at her? Thursday abruptly stops making her pitiful churrling grumbling sound. How can she know for sure? And how, for the matter, can she make her own identity known?

Her solution is simple - she looks around for a stick in the grass and, finding one, stoops and grabs it up between her teeth. Next she makes her stumbling way over to the bottom of Derek's tree and a relatively flat patch of dirt.

Writing with her mouth with a stick for a stylus would be difficult enough without the foreign body. She tries to draw a small circle, and about a yard to the right she draws another. Beneath them both she scrawls a wobbly, curvy line. It was supposed to be a sad-face, but standing back to review her work she wonders whether she herself could make it out if the situation was reversed. Oh well - Now her eyes are on the bird.

Your move.]

[Derek will hop closer on his branch, watching curiously. After a moment, he catches on; it is, after all, something he tried on the first day once he'd figured out people couldn't understand him either.

He'll wait, and even though the attempt is...um...well, hard to decipher, he'll still makes an encouraging chirp as he hops to the ground. He'll mince his way to her, tapping his beak on the stick.

S'all right if he tries?]

[Well it's definitely not a hostile move. Still, she hadn't expected him to touch her stick and when he does she grips it tighter with her teeth, drawing defensively back. Apparently the hawk's message didn't get across very well - or not at first - but the more he stands there the more time she has to question why. At length the doe leans her head forward and drops the stick at Derek's talons.

Now her tongue runs over her teeth, dislodging bits of stick while she waits.]

[Derek has even more difficulty with the stick, but he manages to grasp it in his beak. He doesn't try anything too terribly complicated--just several straight lines carefully arranged in a tic-mark pattern. He looks at her expectantly.]

[So there's a person trapped behind those eyes? -- Knowing this is enough to dissolve her guard, to replace anxiety with pity. How then can she explain his success in the air? It doesn't take much to figure out some possibilities. Perhaps whoever it is had had wings before the Shift -- Or perhaps he or she is a veteran of Luceti, accustomed to the angelic wings that come with the welcoming package.

Thursday stretches out her legs and neck, working out knots in her muscles. They've come far, but what can they do now? She has a lot that wants to ask but no effective means of communicating beyond churrls and hoof-stomps. All at once she recognizes the journals for the invaluable resource that they are.]

(no subject)

derek-bliss.livejournal.com - 2011-04-03 02:00 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

bookworldly.livejournal.com - 2011-04-03 23:23 (UTC) - Expand

[There's a nagging instinct to give chase when Mihai catches the scent of fawn in the air, but he'll account it to an outdated urge to play. He's not lost himself so much to just hunt down random small animals, but he will follow that scent, just to see. And when he actually does find what's clearly a fawn in the grass, he purposely makes himself known. Those creatures startle easily--something he knows without really understanding how--and he doesn't want to scare it. At the same time, however, he doesn't want to leave it alone either, given how utterly defenseless it looks there.

So, you have a large white dog approaching you slowly, trying to somehow look completely harmless. What do?]

[Dogs don't eat deer. She'll put her faith in this.

They love to play, though, and if she were to run she'd expect it to chase her -- if she could run. So that's what she figures out in the fractions of a second after she sees it coming. What she can't determine is exactly a dog would approach her this meekly... She'd like to think it was a human-turned-dog but at this point? She just doesn't know. Better to play it safe, then. It's being cautious so far, humble even. Maybe she can encourage it to stay civil if she plays as close to dead as she can muster.]

[Somewhere along the way, it crosses Mihai's mind that the fawn could well be another victim of the Malnosso's humor, same as himself. Given how little it moves as he comes closer, it's a distinct possibility. He'll stop when he's still a little distance away, loweing onto the ground to offer some reassurance. He's just sitting, not poised to attack. He'll also cock his head to the side a bit--if this isn't a person, or maybe even if it is, something still seems off about the way it's just laying there.]

[She'd hoped the dog would pass her by - that it would investigate, get bored and wander on. When she opens her eyes it's still sitting there. Still watching her.

And it doesn't show any sign of moving.

So playing dead is a no go then! Thursday uncurls herself, stretches her neck out and stands. She'll try the opposite approach - scaring it away, or else if there's a person in there perhaps she can convince it of her own humanity by acting in a thoroughly undeerlike manner. Drawing herself up she sets about she lurching towards the dog.]

[...Is that deer trying to be intimidating?

Mihai can only imagine how this might look to anyone passing by. Suddenly he feels sorry for any dog who might actually be scared off by the approaching fawn, who seems to be doing its best to look greater than it really is.

If dogs are capable of smiling, Mihai certainly is right now.

The actions have him fairly convinced that this fawn is yet another victim, exactly like himself. But how to actually go about telling the other person that? Barking will probably only make the situation worse, and there's no guarantee that deers speak dog anyway.

After pretty much blanking when it comes to ideas, Mihai pushes himself to sit on his hind legs. He's still not going anywhere, but he can at least let the deer know he's paying attention.]

[She actually gets a good canter going - it figures that all she needed was a little momentum. It figures, too, that she doesn't really know how to stop... And isn't long before she gets too close and if he doesn't move it looks like this amble-charging doe is goingtorunintohim.]

[Aww, that's cute. Watching the fawn stumble before getting it's legs and gaining momentum, going faster--

--straight at him.

Mihai doesn't quite realize that the deer doesn't have control until it's almost on him. He might still be able to make it out of the way, but where does that leave the fawn? So instead, Mihai will try and take some of the impact; maybe colliding into a dog won't be so bad as running into a wall? He'll just avoid the hooves as best he can, since he'd imagine those to be pretty painful.]

[The hooves, for their part, are all four of them busy pushing up dust and dirt in an attempt to slow her. She's certain he's going to move - certain she's going to faceplant - so if he catches her eyes in the fraction of a second before impact he might get a chance to see the rare phenomenon of a doe expressing an apologetic thankyou.

She turns her head and body to the side...

And it's a pretty soft impact really. She's light if a little bony and small and weak besides. If he's bracing himself he likely won't be moved all that much. As for Thursday? She bounces off of his furry bulk and just about saves herself from slumping into a miserable heap at his feet.

She looks a little dazed.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Oh deer.