Alternative History - An alternative Job-Offer - RPLOG

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Participants

Date

24/10/480

Log



As Fenris wakes from sleep, he finds that he is not, in fact, Fenris. Once again, he finds himself in the guise of Bohmer, locked in a cell of sorts, with a single feline in a guard-uniform keeping tabs on the various cells. It doesn't seem to be a particularly -bad- cell, though, as Bohmer's been provided not one, but two extra blankets, and a decently comfy pillow.

Fenris. . . well. . . Bohmer blinks and looks around, the not-tiger feeling slow and stupid. It takes him a moment to adjust, though he feels a thrill when he realized where he is. "Could have at least warned me," he mutters, only a little startled to hear Bohmer's slow, rumbling bass instead of his own voice.

The immense Hippo drags himself to his feet to take stock of his situation, moving to rattle the bars of his cell. "You can't keep me here!" he bellows! Just because it seems like the sort of ill informed thing Bohmer might say.

"Whoa, whoa. We've no intention of holding you here. But we can't have you tearing up the city either, or risk you getting stabbed out there. You ticked off a lot of folk back there," the feline offers, holding up his hands in what he hopes is a disarming fashion. "Wait here, and I'll fetch the commander. He wanted to talk to you before we let you back out again. Just, uh... Wait here. Please, um, don't tear up the wall or disturb any of the other beings we've got in the other holding cells," he offers, looking particularly fresh and unexperienced as he waits for a response, before dashing off.

Fortunately, the big guy has had a little time to cool off, and he is still more Fenris than Bohmer as the tiger within aligns himself to the "Game" again, reminding himself what happened last time. He looks down at his huge, moderately flabby body and sighs, scratching at the curling hairs on his bare chest and slapping his large gut with a thick hand. "Huh," he murmurs in a slow bass, "Probably shoulda grabbed somethin' to wear before stompin' off." He looks up to see the young guard still standing there. "Well?" he snorts, "You just gonna stand there or do I gotta smash down a wall and find you commander myself? I didn't do nothin' they didn't do first!"

"O-of course," the cat offers, right before dashing off. It takes a little while, but eventually, he returns, followed a rather stately, tall and well-decorated hawk. One that should be oddly familiar to Fenris, yet without the mask.

The cat fumbles with the key for a while, as the hawk gestures for Bohmer to follow after him, before turning to the feline. "Good lad. Would you be so kind to fetch some clothes for our guest, before we head up to the office? And after that. bring us a meal, too. Standard rations will be fine. Makers know we don't have a lot of manpower right now, lets keep it simple, shall we?"

It doesn't take particularly long for the feline to return with -something-. It's not particularly fetching, but at least it'll keep Bohmer relatively decent for the time being."

The office itself is high up in the tower, a good overlook of the smouldering city below. Most of the fires seem to have petered out by now, though there are still some fires going up, and other still going.

Bohmer sneers at the mismatched bits of guard uniforms, too small, though they are probably the biggest the little errand runner could find on short notice. He stuffs himself into the stiff trousers, leaving the button undone on top and pulls on the old shirt that stops halfway down his belly before grumbling and following the hawk officer. The Hippo, now well settled into his role, gives his captor a surly look as he heaves himself up the tower. Stairs are in no way his friends and he makes a mental promise to start exercising more, since his cushy government job had no doubt gone up in smoke along with his home.

"Didn't do nothing wrong," he wheezes, leaning his hands on his knees, causing his undersized trousers to creak rather alarmingly, "They messed up my house. I messed up theirs."

"You attacked four guards and seriously injured three rioting beings, Mister Heavybottom. You caused at least one shop to collapse, and there is currently a large crack in the ground on the main concourse. By our reckoning, you did more than a bit."

"However. We also understand that this is a trying time. For everyone. And you seem like a most... Reasonable sort, now that you've calmed down a little," he offers, as he looks out of the window, and gestures for Bohmer to look for himself.

"Damn right. . . HUFF. . . I'm reasonable," Bohmer grunts, finally starting to get his air back. Also about as sharp as a bag of wet mice, but that is its own problem. The huge Hippo waddles up to look at the scene of destruction, frowning. "Yeah," he grunts, "I seen it. Some dumb Nob set the city on fire. Burned down my house. I got nothing now!" The blood starts to rise in Bohmer's face as he looks out at the smoldering city.

"Plenty of beings have lost more than their houses. Family, their own lives. But, as much as I wish that weren't the case, it is neither here nor there. As for the nob who set this whole thing off, as you called her. My cousin, Angie Brightfeather is rather... Ambitious. And we had her in our... Care. That is, until she escaped, along with a certain Lady Sleekfur."

"Yeah?" Bohmer grunts, folding his thick arms over his expansive belly, "So you let her go and let her go and ruin everything for everybody? What're you telling me for?"

"I would like her back in our custody. Both of them, for that matter," the hawk offers, as he turns around, and gestures for Bohmer to take a seat, once the feline comes in with two rather basic looking meals. Well, at least it's food.

"As it stands, we have yet to decide to do with you, mister Heavybottom. Under normal circumstances, you'd have been awaiting your trial in the dungeons. However, these are not normal circumstances, are they?"

"Please. Eat something."

Bohmer does not need to be asked twice, easing into a chair and tucking in with gusto. Simple though the fare might be, it is no doubt as good or better than what has been available in the markets lately. He gives the hawk a suspicious glance as he eats. "So what?" he asks, "You tellin' me you expect ME to go and find them? You want something knocked over? I can do that. You wanna know the lay of the land? Gotcha covered. But I ain't no guard detective or tracker."