Agent Washington (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vengefulagent) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
realityshifted2015-01-12 08:46 pm
vengefulagent) wrote in realityshifted2015-01-12 08:46 pm
Entry tags:
♖ 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.]
[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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[He flies up to the counter, landing a little better this time.] But no, please...stay. For a little longer anyway. I just wish I knew how to change back. I'm supposed to get surgery soon, and turning into a bat isn't how I expected to spend my last few days of non-AI time.
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[his request for her to stay catches her by surprise, though] ...all right. [she's not really sure what he's hoping for, and she's afraid that if he's looking for some sort of comfort, she won't be able to give it. but still, staying in the kitchen for a bit sounds simple enough] But you do know most experiments just take time, don't you? It should go away on its own.
[her eyes widen at his mention of surgery] Wait--you're getting one now, too?
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[But in the meantime, he folds his wings in and sits, taking a break from flying.] Yeah, it's part of the program. People like North and York just happened to be at the top of the list. I'm pretty high up there too, and actually should have had mine already, but...there were issues back home. So I've had to wait.
But um...I'm not sure how well that's going to go... I have to have my helmet off for the surgery and all, and...well. The fangs don't exactly go away.
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[Come on, Menzies, this is Wash. Does he look like the practical joker type?]
That's why I need to see Eithan... Maybe...maybe he has something I can use to temporarily disguise them.
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[she pauses, thoughtful] Look, I can't think of anything offhand, but I can run it by my contacts, see if they've got any ideas for 'iding specific marks.
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[He glances up at her, surprised by this offer.] Really? You'd do that for me?
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