The Hangover - RPLOG
Participants
Date
5/10/477
Log
The sun filters through the curtains of the fine parlor in the rooms that Flora Longtail has rented out for her LongTech employees. Though it is surely quite cold out in the streets of Snowhame, the great sea port of Thera'Dor, it is pleasantly warm here in the cocoon of these fine rooms. Gentle snoring comes from the rooms attached to the parlor and from the heap of furs and blankets on the settee. It seems like everyone must have had quite a night to be sleeping so soundly!
There is a gentle knock on the door and it opens quietly to admit a petite hen in servant's clothes bearing a large breakfast tray. She crosses the room quietly, placing her burden gently on a table, then carefully drawing aside the curtains to admit the brilliant sunlight. The hen smiles out the window, then tiptoes out as the bundle of furs on the settee begins to stir. A tiny little "woof!" comes from deep in the warm furs.
A shout comes from one of the adjoining bedrooms and a hulking reindeer stumbles out into the parlor wearing nothing but a breechcloth! He bears a familiar skunk pattern in his fur, though the black parts are a striking dark blue and his tail is overly long with its single white stripe making it look like a miniature skunk tail. The strange caribou staggers over to a large looking glass and moans as he looks at his reflection. "What is this!?" he cries in the familiar tones of Brutus's manservant and bodyguard, Hartford! The reindeer fingers his altered antlers and gingerly touches a heavy, silver earring in his broad left ear. Soon, his bugles of distress are joined by confused sounds from the other rooms.
Natska groans quietly and shifts slightly under the pile of furs on the couch, blindly reaching around with her hand to grab anything and everything with fur on it and pulling it in close against her chest. "Caaaaaaass..." she groans. "What are you woofing at?"
Cassidy rumbles softly, stirring under all the furs and blankets, wrapping her own arms around Natska. "Me? M'not..." She murmurs groggily. "Ugh. My head. Someone turn off the... The colours. Ugh." She lays her head back down, eyes still pressed shut.
A small yawn leaves Flora's muzzle as she stumbles into the parlor, her tail flicking, and the feline holding her head a little uncertainly... "Flora... Flora has a headache, yes," she mumbles, eyes still only barely open, and the feline more than likely blissfully unaware of the fact that her fur is now a shining, brilliant white, with neon-orange stripes where she used to have her normal, black stripes.
Trace, the kite, is nursing a similar headache as he opens up his eyes within the shielded-off room, blinking a few times as he looks towards the hawk still resting besides him. Moments after, though, he shrieks out in abject terror as he looks down at his clothes... It's almost a good thing he hasn't discovered the fact that his face is covered in blue warpaint, too.
"...What? 'S most undignified, so much noise..." Sveta mumbles, reaching out for the source of the noise and pausing as her fingers meet unfamiliar fabric. Bleary eyes open to see Trace wearing her fluffy red gown, and someone's tied up her new scarf into a ribbon shape and left it on the headboard. Looking down, the goshawk realises she's wearing robes which should belong just a little distance away - it's interesting how the slightest misplacement can make all the difference in the world...
"Oh." Then the stink in on both Trace's and her own breath, strikes home. "OH." This one has a lot more emotion behind it.
Samira stumbles out of the door Hartford just barged through, looking a little worse for wear. Her tail-fluff sticks out at odd angles, her expression is one of confusion and surprise and her every move results in a metalic jingle. At first this perplexes the skunkette, who turns her head left and right as she tries to work out what's going on. It takes a good few seconds for her to realise that it is, in fact, her ear! Several metal rings hang from the side of her ear, overlapping enough that they jingle delicately together.
Her unfortunate situation is made even worse when Flora walks in, the early morning light reflecting off her gleaming fur. Falling onto one of the plush carpets she curls up, head buried in her ruffled-up tail. "Make it stop..."
There had been a party last night, hadn't there? Alexander Snowmark had invited the visitors from Sweetwater to the Snowmark villa for a banquet, right? Hartford, the new reindeer stands, almost nude, prodding and pulling at his unfamiliar face. After a moment or two more, he looks around and his jaw drops. "Uh," he stammers, "Highlady Flora?" he asks, staring at the tigress's newspaper color palette.
Under Natska and Cassidy's furs, Cassidy finds a warm little tongue licking at her closed eyelids and Natska's face is batted at by something fast and furry.
Loud snoring echoes from the room where Brutus is still sleeping. The others are left to tend to their embarrassment in private. For now.
Natska groans loudly at the sounds of shrieks and the other voices, waving a hand at whatever keeps hitting her. "Aughraghrab," she grumbles, finally sitting up to wrinkle her nose and peer around the room at everyone else, ears folded. After another few moments, her eye twitches, and she lifts one of the fur blanket up to cover her front again... then the jaguar blinks and her ears perk as she digs the puppy out of the pile of furs. "What." She tilts her head to teh side, then looks over at the others in the room. "... what?"
Cassidy curls her lips on reflex as she finds something licking at her face, slowly starting to sit up. "What is all the noise for. What's going... On." She glances around the room before settling her eyes on Natska, then on the puppy, then back to the room. "Ugggh. No." Her eyes close and she starts to lean forward onto Natska, resting her head on the feline. "It's too early to deal with this."
Flora groans softly, her eyes cast over the room as she watches Cassidy and Natska with a raised brow, still blissfully unaware of the change in her fur, before blinking a few times towards Hartford... "Flora... Flora has no idea what happened last night," she mumbles after a while, looking towards Hartford, almost as if expecting him to either continue his sentence, or let it slide.
Meanwhile, Trace is working off Sveta's gown as quickly as he can, mumbling softly. "I... I'd like my own clothes back... After that, we'll figure this one out, okay?" he mutters, nuzzling up against sveta momentarily... "And we should probably get something to drink... Presuming you're as thirsty as I am," he mutters with a groan.
"I...yes. Some water would be fine. And I want my gown and gloves back, too." Sveta's already up and on her feet, rolling away from Trace and off the bed, picking at this strange change of clothes, her bare hands instinctively finding the slight swell of her stomach. "There's something wrong here. I'm not supposed to drink. I wouldn't have knowingly done so. So how...?" Her face falls, then twists through several expressions before settling for as best a stiff upper beak as she can manage under the circumstances, finally getting Trace's robes off before tossing the bundle at him and receiving one in kind. "You just stay here. I'll get dressed and get us a drink, then we can figure out who I have to kill."
