sixthiterationlogs | what's ferret for 'bitch please'?

WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Under a delicious tree (an evil, delicious tree)
WHEN: October 17th
OPEN TO: All!
WARNINGS: Ferrets, mischief, swearing

There is a ferret currently pawing at a sweater vest near one of the trees on the outskirts of town.

This isn't a sentence that Ravi would've ever assembled prior to this place, and yet, now it feels commonplace. If he weren't currently in a little ferret body, he might even feel compelled to squeak about how this place is awful. No. Wait, squeaking is for right now, which is what he's doing. It's all that bloody apple's fault for looking so green and perfect, and if someone's going to change you into a ferret after a few bites, he thinks he ought to be warned.

Of course, right now, maybe his priorities are a little off. First, there had been the immediate 'oh, fuck, I'm a ferret', and yet, after that, Ravi didn't think about switching back instantly. No, instead, he's far more concerned about the fact that he'd been wearing one of his best shirts and sweater vests and they're currently all in a pile where someone might step on them or, worse, might take them for their own. That won't do.

This is how there's come to be a tiny little angry Ravi-ferret pawing and clawing at the sweater vest to try and figure out a way to drag it with him back to his and Major's place. No opposable thumbs rule out hands, which means that teeth are next. That is, teeth are next until heavy footsteps and a looming shadow above him makes Ravi realize just how small he is and just how much he currently detests that stupid apple for making him like this.

What if it's permanent? What if he has rabies?

What if their dog eats him?

Letting out a panicked and angry squeak, Ravi clambers to protect his clothes ever the more, while simultaneously hiding behind one of his boots in case he ends up accidentally pelted by an over-eager kick.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ravi has left his clothes in the middle of the forest, and a ferret is trying to eat them.

To be fair, there are days I'd love to shred some of those sweaters he wears too, but that's missing the point a little. While it might not be all that strange to imagine that Ravi has concocted what he imagines to be a valid reason to go streaking through the trees, domesticated ferrets don't live wild in the Oregon highlands. They're domesticated.

"What the fuck," is all I know to softly say, and immediately reach for the clothes. One thing I do know about this situation: Ravi won't want his ugly sweater in the dirt.

Why is it so hard to articulate when you're a woodland creature? He's sure that Snow White should've developed some sort of communication system with the animals better than this, but now all he can do is sort of screech with his tiny ferret vocal cords because if Mark thinks that he's going to steal Ravi's clothes and look better than him in them, he's...maybe possibly right, but it would only be a barely-there thing!

Trying to figure out a way to communicate, Ravi is ashamed to say that at first, his stubborn and instinctual reaction is merely to hold his ground, which is how he ends up standing on the sweater and giving Mark his best narrow-eyed 'I'm watching you' ferret look.

I don't know all that much about ferrets, although I seem to recall that they can be aggressive and frequently bite even the people they ostensibly like. At least, I'm hoping that's typical ferret behavior, because otherwise I need to start worrying about rabies.

Regardless, saving Ravi's questionable attire isn't worth getting bit, so I immediately back off, holding up both hands in a placating gesture.

"You know what, you can have them. I'm sure they'll make your nest the envy of all the forest rodents this winter."

Yes! Excellent, he's driven Mark away from his clothes.

Only, wait, that's not what Ravi had been intending to do. He needs help to make sure he doesn't stay a rodenty ferret forever, which means that Mark wandering away is the last thing he wants to happen, which means he needs to figure out what to do. Scrambling, he looks to the dewy, wet ground and works to start carving in words in the dust as best as he can, dragging his little paws in and stumbling a little because it's not like he ever got lessons on how to do this.

When he's managed to scribble 'RAVI' in childlike writing, he scampers to Mark's ankle to nip and gnaw at the pants there.

The fact that I realize the ferret has written a word and isn't in the midst of some kind of seizure is pure chance — I was definitely getting more worried about the possibility of a rabies outbreak and was looking to hie my happy ass away from potential infection as quickly as possible. My eye just happened to drop to the lines scratched in the ground, and realized they were too orderly to be random.

Which is how I am now standing here swinging my attention back and forth from Ravi's name in the dirt to the ferret that wrote it there like if I look at one or the other one more time, what I'm seeing might change or disappear.

But of course it doesn't, because we're in a place that makes no god damned sense.

I sigh, frowning. "What the fuck did you do?"

Why is it always that he's done something wrong? Ravi would like to protest on behalf of his virtue that this is definitely not his fault, because anyone who comes across a delicious piece of fruit in the woods should...probably not eat it, actually, given the track record of this place, so maybe this one is actually on him.

Giving a ferret-like little whine, he wanders back over to said fruit and rolls it with his nose as he scampers back to Mark, like he's showing the offending item and hoping that maybe in addition to surviving on Mars, Mark might know what to do in this particular situation?

"Yeah, I'm not going to touch that," I say with a nod to the apple, which has a single, almost artfully-placed bite out of one side. I really shouldn't laugh; this isn't a laughing matter, especially to Ravi, who was probably just hungry and opportunitistic. But I can't help it.

"You're like a furry Snow White," I say, and reach into my back pocket, where I'd stuffed a rag that morning. You never know when one might come in handy, like when you happen across your friend turned into a ferret and need to handle a possibly-poisoned piece of fruit. I cover the apple with the rag, wrap it carefully and stick it in my pocket.

"If you want a ride back to the lab, you better come on," I say as I reach to fetch the pile of clothes.

Interesting, that the man who grows their fruits and vegetables now doesn't want to touch a fruit. It's a good thing Ravi is too sane for a conspiracy theory right now, because if he weren't, he'd think the whole thing is just a little fishy. Then again, that could just be his little ferret brain trying to process all the information as best as it can and failing, so there's really no stock to be put in him, right now.

The lab is exactly where he wants to go, even if he's dying to reply with a witty quip about how his hair is the fairest in the land (especially his beard), but he settles for hurrying into the bundle of clothes, wrapping himself around...well, himself, and giving a nod to tell Mark he's ready.

"I want you to know I am still strongly considering the possibility that I've eaten something I shouldn't and am currently tripping balls," I announce as I begin carrying the bundle and its furry passenger back towards town. I can't imagine what would have caused that sort of reaction out of my mundane daily diet, but logically, it's more likely I'm hallucinating than that Ravi is actually a ferret.

But let's get real, here: I'm alert and he's a ferret.

"Here's hoping this is more temporary than not. Otherwise Helen might have to start looking for a new boyfriend."

If Mark is somehow tripping balls enough to also affect Ravi and make this whole ferret thing an illusion, well, in that case, apparently he's being carried home by a Martian, which his parents would never have approved of. Though, he is a doctor, so maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Clinging on, he's not sure what's going to change him back, but he'll take the relative safety of the known over the wilderness.

He can barely camp successfully as a human being. There is no chance in the world he's going to survive out there as a ferret. Something's going to eat him or he'll eat something poisonous and then he'll be buried in a shoebox like an errant gerbil when he dies.

He squeaks in grunted affront at the implication that Helen will move on so quickly, but it's true. She could definitely do better than the rodent class.

"It was a joke," I say with a glance down to the irritated ferret fussing on top of the pile of clothes. I don't know how it's possible for a ferret's face to look insulted, but somehow, of course, Ravi has managed it.

"I think you're going to be fine. This is—" I break off, trying to decide if it's worth articulating the possible nuances of living inside what is basically the Matrix. "It's probably a test. Everything else has been temporary, there's no reason to think this won't be, too."

Ravi would love to know what sort of test requires him to become a rodent, but whatever it is, he's failed it. Not even close to passing, he's a full-on F student, remedial class, needs to return to summer school, though, if passing means not getting eaten, then maybe he's doing this with flying colours?

Settling into Mark's little pile of clothes and arms and warmth, Ravi isn't sure how to feel about any of this, but at least he has relative safety here, flopping his chin against Mark's hand as he peers up at him sadly.

Test or not, he's ready for it to all be over.

what's ferret for 'bitch please'?

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