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

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New Species Event - Mass Interaction Log (take two)

Who: Anyone!
What: All in here
When: Today, Tomorrow, Until April 2nd
Where: Anywhere in Luceti!
Summary: More people turning into weird stuff. Mod Note: If you want to opt for a second transformation for the rest of the event, feel free to do so.
Rating: FUN

No need for LJ Cut! Mass action style stuff all around town. You can use this if you don't want to make a post. Or you can make a post anyway. Have at!

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[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.]

[Derek is also thinking of the journals; once again, he's being frustrated by lack of communication.

But maybe if they lucked out, her journal, at least, might be close by.

One can hope, anyway...]

[It's in the apartment and her window is open. If she could only tell the hawk this then he could swoop in there and get it - but in this body? With this voice? She sits on her hind legs and lifts a front hoof to her neck to indicate her throat. Then she lets her head droop.]

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New Species Event - Mass Interaction Log (take two)

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