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29 June 2011 @ 03:30 am
03  
[Heero felt like punching Duo incredibly hard, maybe hard enough to break something. This was all his fault after all. He just had to go and say that he'd be hit with an experiment that was worse than his. As soon as the pilot showed his face, he was going to do just that.

Of all the experiments, why did this place choose to toy with his emotions? As much as people liked to claim he didn't have them, he did. He just happened to have incredibly good control on them. It was easy to ignore them when he needed or wanted to, to hide them, just like he had been trained to do. To matters worse, he couldn't leave the plane either. He had tried desperately. It would have been easier to deal with this at home, alone, where no one would see him or use it against him.

So now he was sitting at the bar, pouring himself a glass of something he didn't have the slightest clue about. All he knew was that alcohol dulled the senses, so he hoped that if he drank enough his emotions would be dulled enough to control again. He never drank much, or if at all. He was under-age after all, though like it really mattered.

It wasn't working. Half a bottle and it wasn't working. It had to figure that his body wouldn't succumb to the effects as easily as it did for everyone else...and it was frustrating! Slamming his glass down on the counter top a little harder than he wanted (and probably breaking the glass), he stepped behind the counter to find something much stronger.]
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29 June 2011 @ 03:35 am
[002]  
[The shadowy figure that constituted Gin's person has made its way onto the Plane. But there are is something somewhat off about the grave-faced man— aside from what was usually off about him, of course.

He was still dressed in his usual coat and fedora, but his blonde hair wasn't all that peeked out from the shadows cast by the rim of his hat.

In fact, two big, wolfish ears seem to have sprouted atop his head, knocking his hat askew.

Blinking in confusion, before turning with a sharp glare to snatch at his coat and gather it up to expose his pants, Gin made the unfortunate discovery that a similarily furry tail unfurled over the edge of his pants.]

... you're kidding me.

[His voice was low and dangerous, but the angry twitching of his tail and the slicking back of his ears quite easily took the edge off his words.]

What is going on?!

[In his anger, he bares sharp fangs which also caught the light, glimmering menacingly.

He might be turning into a fearsome wolf (that is capable of walking upright and human speech), but caught in mid-transformation, he looked more like an un-cute kemonomimi.]
 
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Oliver Day
29 June 2011 @ 07:51 pm
[024]  
[when Christine left Oliver on the TARDIS after the end of their fairy tale, he knew the best idea would probably be to go back to his room, get some dry clothes, and take a nap. he was, after all, still sopping wet from his exciting adventure in the lake. and on top of that, his muscles--and his body in general--were quite exhausted after the oxygen deprivation. but, being Oliver, the last thing he wanted to do was go to his room. the odds of Harriet hearing him were good, and he did not under any circumstances want the PM to see him like this. he also didn't feel much like sleeping; he was too much a mess of emotions at the moment for that]

[so instead, he crept to the bathroom, grabbed a blue towel that he wrapped around his head (maybe a lingering after effect of his fairytale--it looked rather like a turban that way), and thought of the Plane. once there, he went straight for the bar. because after all, what else would you do after a near-death experience you didn't expect to survive? it's definitely time for a pint]

That's better.

[his voice is a bit scratchy still after its lake water inundation, but he doesn't mind that at the moment. he pours himself a glass and immediately starts drinking. then he sighs, setting it down and rests his chin the bar, slumping forward to lean against it. the towel starts to slide, so he removes it and throws it over his shoulders instead. currently, he's only wearing the rather Aladdin-style trousers that the fairy tale left him with, so it's warmer that way anyway. it also shields his scars from view somewhat, which is always a plus in Oliver's mind--not that he's thinking about that at the moment. he's too lost in thought to expect anyone to find him like this]

It wasn't the dream after all. [he sighs again, only half sitting back up so he can take another drink]
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