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."
It's just a little hard to tell is she's joking with that last sentence, or not.
Samira remains curled up for the moment, although she does manage to open here eyes enough to observe the other occupants of the room. A light flick of her ear results in another loud jingle and she moves a hand up to keep the offending rings still. "Flora? Hartford?" she whimpers from her place on the carpet. "Why does everything hurt?"
The excited little Maneback puppy barks once at Natska and proceeds to lick her face happily. Unfortunately, he seems to be the only happy person in the room. Hartford is still alternating between pulling at his thick, blue fur and tugging at his new earring as he slumps heavily on an empty couch. He does not seem to notice that he is nearly nude in the presence of FOUR women as he lets his big, shaggy head rest in his hands. "Why am I a reindeer?" He asks piteously, "And why does the Highlady's fur look the wrong color? And where did this earring come from?"
From the muffled sounds of activity from outside and the sun streaming through the window, it must be nearly midday. The breakfast tray on the table and its accompanying pitcher of water remain untouched on the table.
Natska grunts, then rests her head against Cassidy's, her eyes squinting at the puppy. "Well he's a cute one..." she starts, gently placing him on Cass' chest. Her notched ear flicks, and she looks over at Flora. "Mmmmmm... Flora? Have you always been that color? What... what did we do last night? I remember there was that Snowmark party, but then things get a little blurry after that..."
Cassidy brings her arms up to cradle the puppy, slowly opening her eyes. "I... Well. We did want to get a puppy. I guess... We did that, then. But... I don't remember what else we did. It's all a blurr. I hope whatever else we got up to was as good an idea as this." She quickly pulls the blankets back a little to peer down at herself, making sure SHE didn't end up as something else. Everything still -looks- right at least, save for black fur going more grey with the lack of dye-access.
Flora mutters softly, before looking down at her hand. "Flora... used to be orange, yes... And this part used to be black... It's... White and bright orange now," the she-cat mubmles after a moment of staring at her hand in utter and complete confusion. "Flora... Flora isn't sure... But Flora gets the idea that we need to talk to the Snowmarks, yes," she mutters, tail swaying in an agitated manner.
Meanwhile, Trace offers Sveta her own clothes, quickly slipped into his own clothes, smiling encouraging and nodding lightly. "We... We'll work it all out, hon. It'll be okay," he chirps softly, before he stumbles out of the room and down the stairway, blue face and everything.
Sveta sighs, slipping on her gloves before following Trace out and down. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a violent being. But I do certainly feel like someone needs to die here." This statement is punctuated by a groan, and another sigh as she takes in the mess that awaits downstairs.
Samira slowly picks herself up off the carpet and trundles over to the table and refreshments in a manner vaguely reminicant of how the undead move. Thankfully she manages to make it there without tripping over the floor and soon pours herself a glass of water, quaffing the entire thing before slumping into the chair. A few light tugs at her earings confim that they are very real and that she probably shouldn't be pulling them.
Hartford finally notices his lack of clothing and hurries back to his room. "Let me make sure that Mister Brutus is alright," he says, "And I will come along." That leaves everyone to gather themselves for a moment.
Natska rubs her nose against Cassidy's cheek, then thinks for a moment and peeks under her own blanket herself. Satisfied that nothing is too amiss, she carefully wraps the fur blanket around herself as she rises to her feet, then begins looking around for her clothes. "Goodness!" she says, although her tone is still muted. "I wanted to have an -adventure- in Snowhame, but... I wanted to remember it, too. I'll come with you, Flora. As long as Cass wants to, anyway. And I like the earrings, Samira."
Cassidy reaches up to brush the trio of silver rings that were pierced through her ears before looking over at Samira. "I don't see what the problem is. Looks good, yes! I've had mine for yeaaars. They look nice." She flashes a reassuring smile before she starts to stand, holding the blanket to her chest to keep her modest, the puppy cradled in her other arm. "I will go, yes. I just need to... Dress, first. I'm not walking outside like this, certainly."
Flora blinks and nods lightly, her tail flicking behind her lightly as she moves to look into a mirror... It looks like, phyisically, she got the weakest blow, though she appears to be nursing a major headache. "Flora suggests you do that, yes... Not good to go out into the cold without clothes, yes," she mumbles, blinking a few times as she looks up at Trace.
Trace, in kind, blinks back groggily, trying to figure out what piece of clothing he missed, exactly, though he soon moves to stand besides Sveta, arm wrapped around her shoulder. "It'll be fine... Lets not murder anyone just yet, okay, hon?"
Sveta sighs and eases up a little at the warmth of Trace's touch, moving to wriggle out of his grasp to make for the water pitcher. "I just want details. For now." Furious one moment, morose the next. Useful activity, that's the ticket - it's in short order that water is served - one for herself, another for Trace, and the rest laid out in glasses until the pitcher's empty. Hopefully there's enough for everyone.
Samira gives her ear another little flick as if to make a point. "But... but how do you deal with the jingling?" she churrs. "I guess I can always get smaller ones..." A sigh passes her lips as she slumps onto the table, staring contemplatively into the half-full glass. At the very least she doesn't need to get any more clothes, although some grooming might be neccecary to make her tail look less like a fir tree.
After a bit more scrambling, the group is finally ready to set out to find out just what had happened last night. Hartford reemerges from the darkened bedroom. "Mister Brutus is very sorry," he says, "but he will not be joining us."
As the bleary eyed crew staggers out and down the flight of stairs into the fine inn's common room, they are met by a hearty cheer! The lunchtime crowd cheers and applauds as the LongTech expedition winces their way down the stairs. "Sing for us again, Pretty Samira!" comes a call from the crowd, along with a bevy of other calls for an encore from the whole group of some forgotten performance from the previous night!
Although Natska's ears quickly fold again as she gets dressed, then takes the puppy from Cass to let her love get her own clothes on, she becomes quickly enamored of the little thing. She is gently scritching it behind the ears as they all make their way down into the inn's room, and she winces at the sudden noise before giving them a wane grin. "Uhm. Good morning?"
