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xp_logsRictor, Shatterstar, Liam, and Clint discover that scenarios out of wacky 1980s sex comedies are dramatically less appealing when the feature performer is Catseye.
"Okay, so, the overall plot is that Luffy gathers a group of people to be good pirates with him to find the greatest treasure of all time, called the One Piece. It starts with Luffy, Nami, Zoro, Sanji, and Ussop, but the crew expands. There's this cute reindeer man named Chopper who . . ." Rictor abruptly stopped his explanation to Shatterstar and Liam of the plot of One Piece mid-sentence as they stepped into the mansion kitchen. His brain seemed to short-circuit as they were greeted by the sight of a purple-haired young woman wearing only a thin bed sheet like a toga. Why was there an almost-naked woman in the kitchen? How was he supposed to react to this? How were his friends expecting him to react to this?
Sniffing, Liam stared at the girl. "Sharon! Put some clothes on!" he chastised, making a face. He didn't want to see her like that! His tail swished in agitation. "Gross! That's our food!"
"Someone has taken my Allowed Meat. Was here last night." In retrospect the person who had eaten it might in fact have been Sharon herself, but she wasn't going to let a simple thing like facts get in the way of her annoyance. Shifting had taken more out of her than she'd expected, and she'd only gotten halfway down the stairs before starting to shake from hunger. Someone had left a few raw salmon filets to defrost in the fridge, however, and that would do. She seized the plate.
"This is mine now," she declared, stumbling a little as she tried to avoid the refrigerator door as it swung closed. She managed to seat herself at the kitchen table without incident and picked up a filet.
Someone eating raw meat was much more attractive than Shatterstar thought it had any right to be, but the attractiveness had diminished by the knowledge that this was in fact Sharon.
Confusion took over instead. "I thought you were a cat?" He asked, trying to see anything Sharon-like in the girl, besides the hair.
Speaking of anime, if they were in one, then Rictor's horny teenage nosebleed would have been replaced with a giant sweatdrop of bewilderment. "Wait, you're Sharon?" The girl did sound like her and the hair matched the fur. And that protrusion behind her under the sheet, was that a tail? "Is this like a witch's curse or something?"
Sharon sucked a shred of raw fish from a clawed finger. "Yes. Handsome prince finally arrived to free me from wicked spell. Was highly erotic." She licked the grease from her lips and glanced at Liam. "You covet my fishes? May spare one."
Wrinkling his nose, Liam shook his head, both to clear the mental image and because when had Sharon last washed her hands? "You're so gross," he complained, "And you ate all the salmon. You're the worst. Put on some clothes!"
That was very much so a tail. Also the speech patterns were very much so Sharon. "Since when do you shape shift?" Shatterstar asked, turning around in his seat to watch her. Her actions in human-form seemed even more alien than when she was panther-shaped. He related, somewhat.
Sharon wrinkled her nose at Liam's ingratitude before turning her attention to Shatterstar. "Since always," she replied dismissively. "Is not difficult."
Suddenly the girl froze as a huge fly, attracted by the scent of fish, dipped directly in front of her face. Sharon moved to reflexively snap it out of the air. Her teeth clicked against nothing, but, more critically, the sheet began to slip from her shoulder.
"Nope." In deference to Sharon's dignity, if that was even a thing, Rictor spun around to face the other direction. Oh look, the sun was shining. It would be a nice day to be outside and nowhere near the kitchen.
Sighing, Liam tracked the fly, moving quickly to clap it between his hands and smooshing it before going to wash his hands at the sink. "Don't eat flying raisins, Sharon," he said patiently, with the air of someone long suffering. "They taste gross and aren't worth it, even if variety is an important part of our diet." It was clear he was both parroting someone else, but also speaking from experience.
Clint wasn't exactly paying a lot of attention when he walked into the kitchen from the side porch, but he didn't need his eyes to be as enhanced as they were to realize something wasn't quite right. Call it intuition, call it a sixth sense for horrifically awkward situations -- call it whatever you wanted, but the archer pivoted on his heel from his beeline to the fridge and took in the tableau on the other side of the room. "Huh," he said, looking at the boys. One was at the sink, one was turned around and seemed awfully tense, and the third... was just standing there.
Dammit. The girl was in a sheet -- like a falling-off toga. Reaching for the hem of his plain white t-shirt, Clint strode over to her and asked the room as a whole, "Why is nobody showing the new girl where all the spare sets of clothing are? Or at least helping her keep the toga on?" He pulled his shirt off entirely, offering it to her. "Here, this'll cover everything that needs to be covered. Use the sheet as a skirt or something."
"Oh. It is Clint. Hello Clint." Sharon wrinkled her nose. "Why must everyone offer clothes?" she complained, but half-heartedly; the sheet was proving unwieldy, and the ultimate goal of wearing it -- that is, a consideration of what would be easiest for a four-legged body to extricate itself from -- seemed unlikely given how weak she was from the last shift. Bowing to the inevitable, Sharon accepted the shirt with her fish-greased hands and pulled it over her head. It smelled of recent exertion, but it wasn't as if she hadn't crawled through worse. The sheet puddled around her waist.
Shatterstar looked up to the ceiling to avoid looking at Clint's bare, muscular chest. He was being tested today, he really, really was. His face was nearly as red as his hair until he managed to slow his heart rate.
They should all count their fortunes that they were A) inside a building, B) standing on vinyl flooring, and C) Rictor wore shoes. All these reasons kept him from accidentally bringing the roof down on their heads. "Can I please go?" he squeaked in Spanish, English words temporarily forgotten.
“Only if you come back and bring her some actual pants,” Clint responded, also in Spanish. Looking back toward the girl, he continued, “Sharon? Nice new face. I’m guessing you shifted unexpectedly? How much protein are you gonna need and do you want to sub in carbs or just — actually, do you want it cooked or raw?” He knew from shifters in general and some ferals that pretty much protein was the only thing that helped with the kind of energy expenditure it took to shift. Kyle had a habit of eating raw ground beef post-mission.
Sharon huffed, indignant at the perceived indictment of her skills. "I change when I please. It is only that I own no clothes. But yes, shall accept offerings of protein in either state of preparation. I hunger." She had now managed to knot the sheet over Clint's shirt and around her waist. Plenty of people wore less, she reasoned, but she noticed Rictor had already made a surreptitious exit. Strange coming from a boy she had recently observed climbing on his peers' shoulders in nothing but a speedo. With an inward shrug, Sharon lifted her plate in a gesture that gave any indication she was about to clean it with her tongue.
"Okay, so....you wanna feed her while I get her clothes?" Liam suggested, dashing out to his room. He was pretty sure he had at least a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt that would fit her and she could get girl clothes later. "Be right back!"
Julio and Liam left him with two half naked people. Traitors. He strode past them both, pointedly looking directly ahead of himself. "I'll make you some sandwiches or something," he said, needing to make himself busy. Please let them both be dressed when he was done with that... then again... he wasn't complaining.
Damn, Clint thought, suppressing a snort at how fast those first two kids had booked it out of the kitchen. "Excellent initiative," Clint said, pointing at the one with the braids before turning back to the girl. "Wait, no. Decency's a priority, especially in public spaces, so we're gonna walk and talk. Let's go, Девочка. We're gonna find you real clothes so you don't accidentally show anybody anything they shouldn't be seeing."
Sharon was about to protest that she would rather spend quality time with Shatterstar's offered sandwiches when she heard voices outside the kitchen. It sounded like Match and Sooraya -- he must have found that responsible adult she had intended to fetch for him before scarring a handful of adolescents for life. The girl looked longingly to where Shatterstar was rummaging in the refrigerator. Once Sooraya arrived she foresaw two things in her future: a long conversation, and a sixth person insisting they clothe her. At this rate Sharon was going to end up so swaddled she might as well be in a purrito.
Human for all of twenty minutes, and already this was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.
"Okay, so, the overall plot is that Luffy gathers a group of people to be good pirates with him to find the greatest treasure of all time, called the One Piece. It starts with Luffy, Nami, Zoro, Sanji, and Ussop, but the crew expands. There's this cute reindeer man named Chopper who . . ." Rictor abruptly stopped his explanation to Shatterstar and Liam of the plot of One Piece mid-sentence as they stepped into the mansion kitchen. His brain seemed to short-circuit as they were greeted by the sight of a purple-haired young woman wearing only a thin bed sheet like a toga. Why was there an almost-naked woman in the kitchen? How was he supposed to react to this? How were his friends expecting him to react to this?
Sniffing, Liam stared at the girl. "Sharon! Put some clothes on!" he chastised, making a face. He didn't want to see her like that! His tail swished in agitation. "Gross! That's our food!"
"Someone has taken my Allowed Meat. Was here last night." In retrospect the person who had eaten it might in fact have been Sharon herself, but she wasn't going to let a simple thing like facts get in the way of her annoyance. Shifting had taken more out of her than she'd expected, and she'd only gotten halfway down the stairs before starting to shake from hunger. Someone had left a few raw salmon filets to defrost in the fridge, however, and that would do. She seized the plate.
"This is mine now," she declared, stumbling a little as she tried to avoid the refrigerator door as it swung closed. She managed to seat herself at the kitchen table without incident and picked up a filet.
Someone eating raw meat was much more attractive than Shatterstar thought it had any right to be, but the attractiveness had diminished by the knowledge that this was in fact Sharon.
Confusion took over instead. "I thought you were a cat?" He asked, trying to see anything Sharon-like in the girl, besides the hair.
Speaking of anime, if they were in one, then Rictor's horny teenage nosebleed would have been replaced with a giant sweatdrop of bewilderment. "Wait, you're Sharon?" The girl did sound like her and the hair matched the fur. And that protrusion behind her under the sheet, was that a tail? "Is this like a witch's curse or something?"
Sharon sucked a shred of raw fish from a clawed finger. "Yes. Handsome prince finally arrived to free me from wicked spell. Was highly erotic." She licked the grease from her lips and glanced at Liam. "You covet my fishes? May spare one."
Wrinkling his nose, Liam shook his head, both to clear the mental image and because when had Sharon last washed her hands? "You're so gross," he complained, "And you ate all the salmon. You're the worst. Put on some clothes!"
That was very much so a tail. Also the speech patterns were very much so Sharon. "Since when do you shape shift?" Shatterstar asked, turning around in his seat to watch her. Her actions in human-form seemed even more alien than when she was panther-shaped. He related, somewhat.
Sharon wrinkled her nose at Liam's ingratitude before turning her attention to Shatterstar. "Since always," she replied dismissively. "Is not difficult."
Suddenly the girl froze as a huge fly, attracted by the scent of fish, dipped directly in front of her face. Sharon moved to reflexively snap it out of the air. Her teeth clicked against nothing, but, more critically, the sheet began to slip from her shoulder.
"Nope." In deference to Sharon's dignity, if that was even a thing, Rictor spun around to face the other direction. Oh look, the sun was shining. It would be a nice day to be outside and nowhere near the kitchen.
Sighing, Liam tracked the fly, moving quickly to clap it between his hands and smooshing it before going to wash his hands at the sink. "Don't eat flying raisins, Sharon," he said patiently, with the air of someone long suffering. "They taste gross and aren't worth it, even if variety is an important part of our diet." It was clear he was both parroting someone else, but also speaking from experience.
Clint wasn't exactly paying a lot of attention when he walked into the kitchen from the side porch, but he didn't need his eyes to be as enhanced as they were to realize something wasn't quite right. Call it intuition, call it a sixth sense for horrifically awkward situations -- call it whatever you wanted, but the archer pivoted on his heel from his beeline to the fridge and took in the tableau on the other side of the room. "Huh," he said, looking at the boys. One was at the sink, one was turned around and seemed awfully tense, and the third... was just standing there.
Dammit. The girl was in a sheet -- like a falling-off toga. Reaching for the hem of his plain white t-shirt, Clint strode over to her and asked the room as a whole, "Why is nobody showing the new girl where all the spare sets of clothing are? Or at least helping her keep the toga on?" He pulled his shirt off entirely, offering it to her. "Here, this'll cover everything that needs to be covered. Use the sheet as a skirt or something."
"Oh. It is Clint. Hello Clint." Sharon wrinkled her nose. "Why must everyone offer clothes?" she complained, but half-heartedly; the sheet was proving unwieldy, and the ultimate goal of wearing it -- that is, a consideration of what would be easiest for a four-legged body to extricate itself from -- seemed unlikely given how weak she was from the last shift. Bowing to the inevitable, Sharon accepted the shirt with her fish-greased hands and pulled it over her head. It smelled of recent exertion, but it wasn't as if she hadn't crawled through worse. The sheet puddled around her waist.
Shatterstar looked up to the ceiling to avoid looking at Clint's bare, muscular chest. He was being tested today, he really, really was. His face was nearly as red as his hair until he managed to slow his heart rate.
They should all count their fortunes that they were A) inside a building, B) standing on vinyl flooring, and C) Rictor wore shoes. All these reasons kept him from accidentally bringing the roof down on their heads. "Can I please go?" he squeaked in Spanish, English words temporarily forgotten.
“Only if you come back and bring her some actual pants,” Clint responded, also in Spanish. Looking back toward the girl, he continued, “Sharon? Nice new face. I’m guessing you shifted unexpectedly? How much protein are you gonna need and do you want to sub in carbs or just — actually, do you want it cooked or raw?” He knew from shifters in general and some ferals that pretty much protein was the only thing that helped with the kind of energy expenditure it took to shift. Kyle had a habit of eating raw ground beef post-mission.
Sharon huffed, indignant at the perceived indictment of her skills. "I change when I please. It is only that I own no clothes. But yes, shall accept offerings of protein in either state of preparation. I hunger." She had now managed to knot the sheet over Clint's shirt and around her waist. Plenty of people wore less, she reasoned, but she noticed Rictor had already made a surreptitious exit. Strange coming from a boy she had recently observed climbing on his peers' shoulders in nothing but a speedo. With an inward shrug, Sharon lifted her plate in a gesture that gave any indication she was about to clean it with her tongue.
"Okay, so....you wanna feed her while I get her clothes?" Liam suggested, dashing out to his room. He was pretty sure he had at least a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt that would fit her and she could get girl clothes later. "Be right back!"
Julio and Liam left him with two half naked people. Traitors. He strode past them both, pointedly looking directly ahead of himself. "I'll make you some sandwiches or something," he said, needing to make himself busy. Please let them both be dressed when he was done with that... then again... he wasn't complaining.
Damn, Clint thought, suppressing a snort at how fast those first two kids had booked it out of the kitchen. "Excellent initiative," Clint said, pointing at the one with the braids before turning back to the girl. "Wait, no. Decency's a priority, especially in public spaces, so we're gonna walk and talk. Let's go, Девочка. We're gonna find you real clothes so you don't accidentally show anybody anything they shouldn't be seeing."
Sharon was about to protest that she would rather spend quality time with Shatterstar's offered sandwiches when she heard voices outside the kitchen. It sounded like Match and Sooraya -- he must have found that responsible adult she had intended to fetch for him before scarring a handful of adolescents for life. The girl looked longingly to where Shatterstar was rummaging in the refrigerator. Once Sooraya arrived she foresaw two things in her future: a long conversation, and a sixth person insisting they clothe her. At this rate Sharon was going to end up so swaddled she might as well be in a purrito.
Human for all of twenty minutes, and already this was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-14 05:59 pm (UTC)Somewhere, Amanda is groaning and muttering something about it not always being magic. ;)