realityshifted

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red vs blue (d1) washington

♖ 9

The snow's still here?! Seriously?!

[That's the very brilliant exclamation and observation from Agent Washington as he stares at the white stuff on the ground. He just wanted to go Eithan's house, get a drink--and hopefully run into the man himself. Wash has something very important to talk to him about, especially with his surgery coming up in a couple days. That's it. But now, he's gonna have to make sure to dry off his armor before he goes back, and take the proper rust prevention precautions. He grumbles and starts to run down the procedure in his head, helmet tucked under his arm as he starts trudging through it, his feet sinking practically down through what must be at least six inches of snow.]

At least it's not snowing more, but...this doesn't seem to be melting. [He sighs. This brings back some early training day memories. He did well enough, but until the grappling hook incident, a couple other fresh and young agents knew him for sliding down a hundred food snowy slope on his ass into the middle of a pack of sim troopers. Nothing gets one to learn cold weather combat techniques faster than wanting to avoid that kind of thing again. Still doesn't mean he has to be fond of snow.] Great.

[Continuing forward across the Plane, he tries to ignore the cold biting at his nose and ears, but after a moment, he grumbles and starts to put on his helmet--but before it's even over his head, something happens. He doesn't know how or why, but he suddenly finds himself having a really close look at the inside of his helmet, coupled with a plummeting feeling as the cold hits all over his body--and then he's in the snow, his face pressed against something vaguely soft.]

What the he--! [But he stops himself right there. That voice. Was that his voice?? Did something on the Plane shrink him? He can smell his shampoo and sweat from the helmet lining, so he must be inside, but how? He struggles to move, but things don't feel right. Not at all. And goddamn is he cold, no thanks to the snow. He tries to move and stretch his arms, realizing they've been tucked up against his body, and finds that they move weirdly.]

[Then he realizes why. He turns his head, seeing that his nose, in addition to being longer, has turned from a pink to a grayish-yellow. And he notices that he's clinging to the inner lining with a claw...] What the fuck? [Yep, that squeaky, high-pitched voice is his. His heart is positively racing in his chest and he begins to flail around under the helmet, snow immediately flying around as he tries to get out from under it.]

What the fuck did they change me into this time?! [At some point in all his flailing, he manages to kick his helmet radio on, so even if people aren't around to see a random steel and yellow helmet in the snow, they'll hear some very squeaky cursing over the radio...]

[ooc: Unfortunately for Wash, this isn't an experiment.]

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( as if finding that snow could actually be a thing in this place wasn't enough …

( he's still getting used to everything. just. give him a bit, and it'll all settle down. assuming he doesn't end up happening across fruit bats inside helmets continually in future. )

yukio is trudging through the snow at something of a meandering pace, paying no real mind to where he's going aside from thinking that he'd like to stop by the library to see if anything new to his interests has appeared – when he nearly trips over wash's helmet. he frowns, reaches to pick it up out of curiosity, and –

… well. if that isn't something you don't see everyday. there's a blink, and he tilts his head to the side. just a smidge. )

Er … are you all right?

( no, yukio. he isn't. one of these days, you'll stop being redundant. today is not that day. )

[He stops flailing the moment he hears the crunching of snow nearby.] Who's there?

[But then the world is moving and he clings for dear life to the helmet liner.] Whoa! [Once things stop moving, he makes himself let go and turns around to see who picked the helmet up. He wraps his arms (wings) around himself and tries to suppress a shiver, but it doesn't work.]

N-No, I'm not all right! I'm f-f-freezing! [But can't help looking at the kid and squints.] Hey...you look kinda familiar. [He tilts his head. Kinda looks like the kid he saw playing in the snow but this one's got glasses on. (Admittedly, this is a nicer distraction from his current state.)]

( sorry to give you such a start, wash. its not like he'd really known there was a tiny bat inside of a helmet, and if he had known, he would have picked it up much more carefully.

needless to say, he hadn't been expecting to see the bat inside the helmet. much less a talking bat inside the helmet. he supposes he's seen stranger things in his lifetime, like his father's familiar, the demon cat, but … a talking bat. that's one for the list.

yukio blinks, though, at the comment. ) I do? ( he thinks for a moment, and then he draws the only conclusion he can think of. ) You must have met my brother. Rin. ( even thought hey don't look that much alike, there are certainly some likenesses between them. )

A b-b-bit. [He can see some familiar things, enough to inform him that this kid is a relation.] But yeah, I m-m-met him! He's, uh, energetic.

C-C-Can we go somewhere warmer to talk? [He's going to try to burrow into the helmet lining in a minute, just watch him.]

( see, york and snow tend to not get along so well. this time? he's been having a bit of fun with it.

he's already seen fit to throw telekinetic snowballs at any poor soul that deigns to drop through his line of vision, and he's now taking a leisurely stroll toward the bar for something to warm his bones. maybe some spiked cider, anything he can find, really, because he's never been all that picky when it comes to booze. if it makes him tingle and gets a nice buzz going, he can't complain.

and he hasn't even managed to fall on his ass in this batch of snow just yet. clearly, this is a win-win scenario.

… unless you take into account that he isn't looking where he's going, and therefore doesn't see the helmet in the snow, nor does he hear any of that angry squeak-cursing. the heel of his foot manages to catch the helmet at just the right angle on his next step down, his ankle rolls and both freelancer and bat-freelancer-in-helmet go flying – the former landing sprawled on hands and knees and the latter sliding to a halt just a few feet away. ) The fuh – wait, that's Wash's helmet.

( reaching over to pick it up, peering inside aaaand … ) Ohhh no. Nuh uh. No way. ( except the last two words are morphed into something that doesn't even remotely resemble the english language, because he's too busy laughing. )

You poor bastard. The hell did you do now?

( sympathy? whassat? )

[That voice--! That makes Wash stop flapping around and he unintentionally ends up clinging to the top of his helmet again as he lets out a groan. For a blue-eyed, blond and gray bat, he's pretty grumpy. He's never going to hear the end of it now... So he waits while the helmet picked up and--yep, there's the laughter. He knows it well.]

I didn't do anything! [He makes himself detach from his helmet liner and wraps his wings around his body, trying not to shiver.] I--I was just walking to the one of the buildings--[He doesn't elaborate on which one. York doesn't have to know every time he comes here for his dietary supplement.]--and started to put my helmet on when this happened! [He throws his arms out, but when the cold air rushes back in, he brings his arms right back in.]

U-um...how b-bad is it? [He can take a guess but he hasn't seen what exactly he looks like now...]

( can't blame him for being grumpy. i mean really. suddenly finding yourself a bat without knowing why? or how? – okay we kind of know the why and how, because the plane itself is kind of mean like that, but. that may just go without saying at present.

york has never seen a bat shiver before, but then again, he's never really made a point of studying the habits of bats whether they're in their natural habitats or not. ( this is most certainly not anyone's natural habitat, no matter how well they may end up fitting in. ) and as he listens to wash's explanation, he's already extending a hand toward his friend, hoping that he'll get the hint and hop into it, if only because it'll mean more body heat to mooch off of while he's in his current state. ) It's never as simple as that here, you and I both know that. C'mere.

( and on the off chance wash does actually get into his hand, york will angle his helmet around so he can see himself in its mirrored visor, still trying not to laugh more than he already has. )

S'not bad, really. I don't think I ever would've pictured you making a decent bat, but. Things change, y'know?

I--! [He sighs.] Okay. [Unsure of whether he wants to move or not and expose himself to the cold more, Wash finally makes up his mind and forces himself to go over to York's hand. At first, he does try to walk over, then hop, but after making an absolute fool of himself trying to do both, he settles for crawling his way on. He can't get over how weird it feels move this way.] Yeah, but...why now?

[He gives York a disparaging look. His friend's hand is about the same length as him. On top of everything else, he...doesn't know how he feels about this.]

[But then York turns the helmet and that reflection--! He stares at himself, ears twitching all over, and can't believe that's him. He reaches out to the side, watching his hand and arm--wing--spread.]

I...guess?! But come on, a bat?! That's just rubbing it in... [A shiver runs down his body again and he hunkers down, ears folding down.] D-Do you think we could go somewhere that isn't out here...? [He may be clinging to his hand even more trying to leech heat away.]

( york can't help but to watch his friend and try – try really hard – not to laugh right in his face. there's a time and place for that, there always is, and he figures the guy has been traumatized enough for the time being.

now five minutes down the line … he cannot be held accountable for anything that comes out of his mouth. that's enough of an acclimation period, right? sure it is.

he doesn't exactly have small hands, so the fact that wash is nearly the same size means he's got to be a pretty sizable bat, right? ( he doesn't know anything about bats. doesn't know how big they get or much of anything else aside from that they hang upside down and –

… oh no. you know what's about to happen, don't you? )

at least he waits until the other freelancer has had a chance to get a glimpse of himself in the reflection of his visor before he up-ends him and peers at him some more, just like that, upside-down. ) Why not now? If the Plane wants you to be a bat, you're gonna be a damn bat. Hey, is this gonna affect your whole blood-drinking thing, or are you gonna need to switch over to nuts and berries …? ( squiiiiint. york you are the literal worst person alive. )

Oh, yeah. You've gotta be pretty cold, huh? ( at least he finally turns his hand right side up again. ) C'mon, bat-tacular. I'll get you inside.

( and off he marches toward some nondescript location. you decide! )

[Between seeing what he looks like and York's hand-length, Wash figures he must be maybe 9 inches tall. Or long. He's not sure how bats are exactly measured but he's nowhere near his original height or species now.

But oh, York had better have sleeves because Wash's backlegs instinctively cling on as he's turned upside down and his wings flail and flap open in a panic.] Wha-hey! [But then he's still right where he is, except his world is still turned upside down.] Oh haha. Just because I'm a bat doesn't mean I have to hang like this! [Though admittedly, while he has no problem doing so, he still bodily clings to something that's warm.]

[York's question though... He runs his tongue along his teeth (ignoring the change in shape of his mouth) and feels the telltale pointed teeth. The disappointment is audible in his voice.] I don't think it's affected anything, though fruits and nuts do</> sound good. I still...feel it, you know? It's kinda like the feeling you get when you haven't eaten yet all day, and it's not too strong right now, but it can get really bad. Speaking of, can we go to the mansion? I should see how much I need if I'm in this body.

...Besides, you can open the fridge and I can't. [His ears pull back as he inwardly groans at that nickname and the realization that an important component of his food source is blocked from him so easily in this little body.]

[between the squeaky shouting over the radio and the helmet abandoned on the ground, Menzies approaches it expecting to find a shrunken man in armour underneath. really, she's not sure how she managed to be lucky enough to find him at all. she was making an attempt to look around after the radio call came in, but the Plane is vast, and he hadn't given any hints about his location. in fact, she would have called him back to ask if she hadn't heard a hint of his squeaking from a distance while he was still seemingly too distraught to expect to get an answer from]

[but even though she was expecting some sort of experiment, her shrunken soldier theory was wrong, so lifting the helmet to see a bat is still a surprise. she gapes at the creature]

...Agent? That you?

[He isn't sure if it's relief that he feels upon being found by her or not, but he'll settle for it if it means he can get out of the snow. A shiver runs down his little body as he clings to the helmet lining with one hand, the other wrapping around him. His whole body feels strange to him like this; his mind doesn't want to process that he's feeling fur on his torso.]

[He nods, looking up at her with his blue eyes.] Yeah, it's...it's me. [He tries to keep his composure, but that lasts all of a second.] I don't know how it happened! I was on my way to get something to eat--[Which is partially the truth]--when this happened and I was trapped under my damn helmet! [His voice is even higher as he vocally and physically flails. If she's doubting his story at all, his bootprints in the snow will corroborate his story.]

[having been able to come to this place for as long as she has, Menzies has absolutely no reason to doubt his story, and she adapts quite quickly to this unexpected turn of events] Right.

[the question, of course, is what to do now. seeing him shaking gives her one idea, though. not really sure how to offer to carry a bat because, well, she definitely doesn't want to put it in those terms, she tries:] Did you...need a lift to the kitchen? [but eyeing those wings, she adds more out of curiosity than expectation:] Can you actually fly like that?

Edited 2015-01-25 16:51 (UTC)

[Wash is never entirely sure if she's just that accepting of the things he tells her, or if she processes things in private later. Or both.]

I...[He actually wants to get blood from Eithan's house (since it's closer than the mansion, currently), but he remembers her expressions from the last time he ate lunch with her.]...sure, just anywhere that's warm.

[But then she asks that and he looks at curiously, blinking as he thinks.] You know...I probably could. But I don't...hmm. [He wonders if it'd be a better idea to try it in someplace warm, but the kitchen floor wouldn't be the best of places to land if he can't manage to fly. The snow would cushion him some--he knows this already--but it's also cold...] I'll...figure that out later.

[it's a mystery to many. in any case, she doesn't press him to try to fly himself anywhere--she asked out of curiosity, really. instead, she pauses for a second, considering how to do this, and then unzips her coat and frees one arm from its sleeve, holding it out from him to climb on] Here, it'll be warmer with the coat over you. [she figures she can use her other hand to hold the coat closed over her arm where he's perched. that way he won't be freezing for the whole trip]

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for some reason i thought i tagged this back I'M SO SORRY.

<3

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