sixthiterationlogs | [must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm]

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[must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm]

WHO: Major Lilywhite
WHERE: All around the village
WHEN: Sept 19/20
OPEN TO: OTA, specific starters for different characters; please feel free to have your character run into Major at any point during his re-clothing.
WARNINGS: Nudity?

The Hot Spring. Ever since Major had found out about it, he made a point to stop there a few times a week, if not once a day. Although he didn't rely on them the way some people did, he liked having a few things in his life that were more or less routine, and it didn't take long for him to incorporate the almost-scalding, healing waters into what had now become his daily life in the village.

He'd even made the act of going to the spring a bit of a routine in itself, taking his items of clothing off one by one before folding them up and setting them off to the side - far enough away from the water's edge that they didn't risk getting soaked, but not so far that he couldn't see them if he needed to. It always went pants, shirt, underwear (which he sandwiched between the pants and shirt, to keep some kind of modesty in case someone else were to come meandering by), and today hadn't been any different.

Except for when he had crawled out of the water, letting himself air dry for a few minutes, then went to the retrieve his clothing.

Because when he goes to collect his things, he's met with the very unpleasant sight of them being completely .. gone. Nada. Zilch. Kaput.

"That's .. unfortunate," he mutters to himself, glancing around at the surrounding brush. Maybe he'd put them somewhere else, and hadn't remembered. After scouring the bushes and grass along the perimeter, he comes up just as empty handed - and just as naked - as he'd started. "Crap." Not that Major gets easily embarrassed about being in the wind, but - he usually likes it to be his decision to be wandering around in his birthday suit, rather than having it foisted upon him in some very bad practical joke. "Ha-ha, okay, okay, I get it!" he shouts, thinking that maybe the perpetrator might be nearby, mindfully using both hands to cover his most sensitive areas. "Play a joke on the new guy, right? I set myself up for it, putting my stuff off to the side - but like, c'mon! You can't expect me to walk around the village naked! Can I have my stuff back? .. Please?"

When he's met with silence, he realizes he has no other choice but to try and track down his clothing, one article at a time.

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She made the sound of a game show buzzer. "Eeeh. I'm a scientist. I never make a theory without enough data to support one. Although you can always consider the over-arching theory of the fact that there are a bunch of Observers fucking with us."

Apparently, they knew how lonely and horny she'd been lately.

No explanation of Major's issue being tested.

Sam perched herself on the arm of her couch, pulling one knee up against her chest and folding her arms around it. "Have you had any actual run-ins with our foxy friends?"

"Unlike the rest of us, who launch ourselves into unfounded theories on the smallest amount of "evidence" possible and then regretting or not understanding why it doesn't make sense later on," Major jokes, seemingly happier to finally have his clothing all re-assembled on his body. He could go for some normal clothes, the kind he'd wear back home, but looking like a raspberry is better than being naked. At least in most situations. "That's always a very real theory, isn't it? Or I'd say even a fact, at this point. They seem to do that with some regularity."

He glances up at the ceiling, obviously meaning to give a thoughtful gaze at what lies beyond and above, before returning his attention back to Sam.

"I saw them running through the brush and the forest, yeah. But I thought they were just .. normal foxes. Like, The Fox and the Hound kind of foxes, missing their Bloodhound pal."

Sam wrinkled up her nose. "I think we have enough data, at this point, to safely assume that nothing is really 'normal.'" Not that she had a great definition for 'normal' itself, apart from a setting on a washing machine or air conditioner.

Semantics.

"But I may be a bit biased. I tend to live by the motto of 'Hope for the best, expect the worst.'"

"That's ... a good point. Though, what's that saying? 'Normal is relative' or something? So I'd argue that, for this place, all of this irregularity is normal. It's strange for us because our normal isn't what's normal here, but .. you know. It's all relative." If Major revealed everything that'd transpired back home in Seattle, he'd cause a panic and hysteria in most of the people in the village, without a doubt. And yet, all of that had turned into something 'normal,' over time. Even if it was chaotic.

"Spoken like a true realist, which isn't necessarily a bad way to be. I tend to be an optimist and/or idealist, so I always get screwed in the end."

Sam's own normal was...definitely not par for the course. From what she could tell, anyway. But that wasn't a rabbit hole either of them had to descend right now. It would only cause headaches and nightmares.

"I'm sure in the history of the multiverse, there was an optimist or two who actually made out okay." She shrugged. "I mean, I don't know any. But I'm sure there's a mathematical possibility."

"One or two in the history of the multiverse is not a very good statistic," Major says with a laugh, "If you were trying to comfort me or something. If anything, I feel worse about the fact that I'm likely to meet some horribly moronic end. Like, scalding my insides because I didn't wait for the cheese on my pizza to cool down."

Frankly, 'comforting' wasn't really Sam's area of expertise. She'd tried her best with Addie. And with Avery on the rare occasion when he seemed to need it. But in general, she was pretty much a sledgehammer in a world filled with Yadro curios. Nothing but bluster and disaster.

Fortunately, Major had a way of giving her outs.

"Death by pizza?" she said. "There are worse ways to go."

"... Damn it. I shouldn't have mentioned pizza," Major pouts and whines a bit, absentmindedly rubbing at his stomach. What he would give to have one slice of good pizza. Just one. Even scalding hot, forced to eat it in such a state under penalty of death. He'd deal with a burnt tongue for weeks afterwards, just for that first taste. "I don't suppose anyone's been able to figure out how to recreate pizza here, have they?"

Sam sighed and shook her head. "Nope. Anyway, even if they did, they'd just make it wrong. Probably with a pansy-ass New York crust."

Once a Chicago girl, always a Chicago girl.

She was glad she hadn't had to endure what passed for pizza in LA.

Although, in retrospect, she would have gladly taken it, if she could trade in the whole Apocalypse portion of the program.

"I'm at a point where I literally do not care what kind of crust it's made with, so long as it's pizza. I've never really had a preference for the style. I just wanted it in my belly," Major says, giving his abdomen a few pats. "We had a pretty good mix of styles in Portland, though we mostly had the New York-style. Big push for farm-to-table pizza, too. God, okay, I can't keep talking about it because I'm going to eat my arm off soon."

Spoken like a man who'd never tried to choke down a slice of matzo pizza.

But he was right. They had to stop thinking about it. Or else they'd probably start chewing each other.

...not that Sam would mind...that much.

It had been awhile since anyone wanted to nibble at her.

Ugh! Stop being horny!

"You should get Ravi on the case," she said. "He was the one who managed to make ice cream appear. Maybe he as some kind of hoo doo that summons food. Like Beetlejuice or Bloody Mary."

"Hoo doo?" Major asks, smirking through lifted brows. "Isn't that what the bunnies called cars in Watership Down?" He glances off, trying to remember before snapping his fingers as the thought suddenly barrels into his consciousness. "Hrududu! Nice recall, Major. It's too bad that skill didn't really serve me all that well in high school and college." He gives his head a quick shake to bring him back to the conversation at-hand. "Ravi summoned the ice cream? That gorgeous, British bastard! What a jerk. If he does have food-summoning powers and has been holding out on me, I'm gonna be piiiiiissed."

Sam stared at Major. A full-on, cartoonish stare. For what must have been at least thirty seconds, after he figured out his 'Hrududu' thing.

So, so, so pretty.

Also apparently as dense as flour-less chocolate cake.

"Uh, yeah," she said, playing with a piece of hair. "Yeah, he summoned up a bunch of gallons of ice cream. A few weeks before you got here. There is, literally, nothing as gross as watching that guy eat."

"... What? Hey, c'mon, give me credit for that! I read Watership Down when I was like, thirteen, and I was able to remember a random word from it a crap ton of years later! With no Google or Internet or book to assist me! I'm going to personally pat myself on the back for that one," Major protests, reaching over his shoulder to literally give himself a pat on the back with a bit of a pout and a stare in her direction. "Of course it would be a few weeks before I got here. That's how it would happen. Because ice cream is one of my favorite things in the world."

He can't help but laugh while holding up a finger to continue:

"No, no. I could definitely give him a run for his money. When I turned human again for the .. uh, second time? I think it was? I went on an ice cream and other-human-food binge, and Ravi had to watch me just .. gorge myself. I'm surprised he even wants to eat ice cream after the show I put on."

It was telling, the way Major handled being able to eat food again, versus how Sam had handled it. She'd been desperately afraid. Convinced there was some kind of trick That if she let herself give in and indulge, it would just end with bloody vomit and regret.

Major just...went for things. Like a fucking Gryffindor.

She needed to get herself back into that habit.

"Yeah," she said. "But you don't have the crumbcatcher beard to increase the ick factor."

"I didn't, you're right, but instead of having a Princess Sparkles beard to sort of conceal some of the disaster, I instead had it smeared all over my face like that Vine of the baby covered in peanut butter, patting his naked body with that alarming slapping sound. I'm honestly surprised I didn't just throw up everywhere with how much I ate. It was a great feeling, though. Like .. really great." Major sighs wistfully, remembering the taste of ice cream. The thought of it makes his mouth water, and he hates himself for thinking of food.

Again.

She wasn't familiar with the Vine in question, but she could visualize it just fine on her own.

And yeah. Ew.

But seriously. "We really need to stop talking about food," she said. "No matter how gross the presentation. Not that I have a better topic in mind, because, it's like, as soon as you try to get something out of your fucking brain, it never goes away. And there are only so many vices available to serve as distraction here."

"Yeah, let's, um. Let's not talk about it anymore, especially about the stuff we can't get unless the Box Gods decide to put us on their nice list," Major says with a soft sigh. He pats down his clothes and stands from the couch. "Well, listen, I don't wanna keep taking up space but ... thanks for finding my raspberry shirt and helping make the transformation complete. I'm a real boy now."

Sam stepped back to stay out of his way. She was pretty sure if he brushed up against her, she'd curl from toes to eyelashes, like a desperate and lonely alley cat.

"A real boy," she said. "Just make sure not to tell any lies. You don't want any body parts involuntarily growing on you. That's just awkward."

"There are .. so .. many directions I could go with that, and I feel like you're setting me up on purpose?" Major says, eyeing her suspiciously as he makes his way towards the door. "But I guess I'll say this: it would depend on the body part. It could be useful." He lets that hang in the air before scoffing and adding, as though insulted she could've thought anything else, "I mean my LEGS, obviously - then I can reach all the tall fruit on the trees!"

The moment of silence made her squirm in ways she didn't know were possible. But then Major opened his mouth.

Sam leaned over and picked up the nearest shoe, promptly chucking it at his head.

"Asshole," she said. And with extreme and genuine affection.

Major holds up both arms to block the shoe and ducks, though the heel of it clips his elbow and falls to the ground with a thud. He exclaims some sort of protesting sound before lightly chucking it back in her direction. He doesn't want to actually hurt her, of course.

"See, if I had those super long legs, I could've just bent my knees and let that shoe pass right through them!"

She caught the shoe, clapping her hands together in front of her face. Maybe she wasn't a vampire any more, but her reflexes were still fucking awesome.

"Go to hell," Sam said. "Go directly to hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $100."

"It's $200, you know, but fine, point taken. I'll just take my wounded pride and slither my way outta here," Major says, opening the door. "And not to be That Guy, except I'm gonna be That Guy, but to quote the famous musician, William Joel, 'I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,' so I'll be nice and warm and toasty in hell! And I'm sure I'll see you there!" he shouts over his shoulder as he steps over her threshold onto the porch.

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[must be strangely exciting to watch the stoic squirm]

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totally meant to say seattle not portland whoops

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