bakerstreet | (no subject)

(no subject)

Animal Transformation Meme

So everything is normal this morning. The sun is shining (or maybe it’s raining, or maybe it’s snowing, or maybe you’re in space), you’re in bed (or hammock, or cot, or pile of hay) and everything is good (or not). Except for one tiny thing.

You’re an animal.

Why are you an animal? How do you change back? Who knows! It’s an adventure, right?!

Instructions:

► Post your character with name, series, and what animal they are in the subject
► Tag by going to RNG and roll a number 1-8
► Roll with the scenario given and play it out.
► Have fun!

1. The Evil Sorcerer/Sorceress: You transformed the poor victim into an animal, it’s all your fault. But why? Well, clearly, you’re going to tell them right now.
2. The Captor: You’ve found the poor thing on the side of the road, or maybe in your friend’s room. So you’ve taken them home as your pet. You wonder why they’re acting so strangely...
3. Looking to Adopt: Somehow, they’ve ended up in the pet shop, looking to be adopted. You’re looking for a new pet and they might just be perfect
4. My Hero!: So someone was pulling on their tail or trying to feed them to a cat or something. You’ve come in to save the day!
5. The Food Chain: You’re an animal, too! Too bad they just happen to be your favorite snack.
6. Animal Bros: You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours? It’s a hard world for an animal out there! Since we’re both of the non-human persuasion, let’s help each other out.
7. Fairy Tale Endings: So the story’s coming to an end, and you need something to transform back into your normal self. This calls for True Love’s Kiss.... or the kiss of the closest princess around.
8.Free roll: Whatever one you want! Or a mix, or all, or none!

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[It probably says something that when Maria lets herself into her office that morning, the first thing she thinks when she sees a bird inside isn't 'why is there a bird in my office' and is instead 'I hope it didn't make a mess on any of my important files'.]

He'd left the files alone, actually, though he'd also left a dead mouse next to her keyboard, either as a gift or because he was saving it for later.

His head swiveled towards her when the door opened, just watching her.

It's a bird of prey. In her office. Granted, stranger things have happened at SHIELD and frankly, stranger things have happened to Maria but still - this is a new one for her.

Fully aware of those claws and that beak she'll edge over to her desk to check on the files - thankfully intact and dry - and spot the mouse next to the - oh. That's cute. It's put a mouse next to her mouse.

She doesn't even want to know where it found a mouse in here in the first place.

For the minute, she's going to leave the mouse where it is - because she's awfully fond of her fingers being attached to her hands, thank you very much - and concentrate on watching the bird.

How's she supposed to explain to security that her office has become an aviary?

What? He'd thought her mouse needed a buddy! Either that or it was a Godfather-style threat as best an avian, even a bird of prey, could do.

Suffice to say, Clint's sense of humor was still the same, even when shrunk down and covered in feathers.

He was also watching her right back, head tilted, beak ajar, as if mimicking someone's slack-jawed expression of puzzlement.

For better or worse, Maria's never been the kind to realize you can actually talk to animals. So it doesn't occur to her to ask the dangerous feather duster in the top corner of her office anything, about the mouse or its appearance. She is going to notice the open beak though. She's seen that before from birds in the middle of heatwaves. It means they're hot and since birds can't sweat, it's how they try to keep from overheating.

It doesn't feel hot in the office to her but how's she supposed to know what constitutes hot for a hawk? If it keels over in her office, she's pretty sure it will take care of the problem but there's no way she's going to let an animal suffer despite the convenience. Just - it's the principle of the thing. So, keeping an eye on the bird, she'll edge over to her small refrigerator and take out one of the bottle waters she keeps in there. Looking around gets her an ash tray Coulson gave her from Vegas - a joke because neither of them smoke and it's as tacky as the city he picked it up in. It's clean and so she'll pour some of the water in that and set it on the edge of her desk furthest from her chair before screwing the cap back on and taking her spot in said chair. Then she's going to reach for the phone to call security while still keeping an eye on that bird.]

Really he'd just been mocking her, but hey, if she was going to encourage him by giving him water, he wasn't going to argue.

It was an easy swoop and glide from the top of the file cabinet to the edge of the desk. Now he just had to figure out how to actually get a drink. He sidestepped around the ashtray, first one way and then the other, head tilting back and forth as he studied the level of water, trying to get it figured out, finally just trying what he'd seen videos of birds doing, dunking his beak and then flicking his head back. Which worked quite well, actually, and didn't splash as much as he'd been expecting it would.

She has no idea how bird's drink either, so it's a bit of an education to watch the hawk on her desk work its way through the process. It certainly keeps her entertained mentally while she waits for security and then listens to the newly changed message that indicates she's supposed to hit 7 if she has an animal problem.

Hm.

Apparently, her hawk brought friends. She hits seven on the pad and gets transferred to a very harried sounding rookie. That's a bad sign right there. Meanwhile, she's very carefully, less from squeamishness and more to try to avoid attracting the hawks attention, nudging the dead mouse toward the edge of the desk and her trash can with the end of a pencil.]

Even as surreptitious as that movement was, and as occupied as he was with working out how to actually get a drink of water, he did catch the movement out of the corner of his eye, making a churring sound somewhere in the back of his throat. He'd been sure that mouse was dead, but there it was, moving again.

He darted forward, talons clicking on the desk, snapping it up with one foot and devouring it in three bites, only realizing a moment later that he'd just eaten a mouse, which had him darting for the water dish again, dunking his head and shaking it, blowing bubbles as if to wash the taste out.

[He moves so fast that she barely gets the pencil out of the way in time and it's only because she's used to dealing with three crisis at once that she manages to keep listening to what the rookie is spouting on the other end of her phone as she watches him first scarf down the mouse - apparently he was saving it for dinner - and then dash off to try to drown himself.

It's hard to judge whether it's that or what she's hearing that has her eyes flaring a little wider for a brief moment before her face goes calmly blank again.]

Thank you. [it's absent the way she manages to hang up the phone and her eyes stay glued on the bird. After a minute, she manages a surprisingly calm:] You probably shouldn't do that. With your nose upside down on top of your - never mind.

The warning came just a little too late, as he was already sneezing and sputtering, shaking his head vigorously, trying to get the itchy, water-up-the-nose feeling to go away, even scratching at the base of his beak with a talon before shaking his head again.

Of course as soon as he thought it was clear again, there was another bout of sneezing, which left him shaking his head so hard he completely lost his balance, toppling from the desk to the floor.

Lucky for both of them, Maria's got excellent, grenade dodging speed reflexes and she's reaching out to catch him before she has time to think about those claws. Which ends up with her half out of her chair and an upside down bird cradled in her arms. It has her freezing and blinking down at him because, if he's not one of the transformed SHIELD agents - or happens to temporarily not remember it - this is going to hurt. Careful not to jostle him, she sits back in her chair.

He remembered, it was just that once in a while, like with that mouse moving when he was sure it was dead, instincts took over.

At the moment, however, he was thankful for the catch, whirring in his throat again and tucking his feet up close to minimize the danger of her getting jabbed with a talon. Sitting like this was ... comfortable, really, which he hadn't expected. Though he shouldn't have been surprised, really, as he usually liked laying on his back as it was, made it harder for anyone to sneak up on him.

Well... he's staying calm and actually looks pretty content where he is, so she'll finish settling into her chair, still holding him in her arms. The tucking of those pointy feet of his helps a great deal. Have a little, almost silent sigh from her. His feathers did feel pretty soft though.

"Looks you got hit with whatever turned everyone into animals as well."

So he wasn't the only one, that was good news, he was glad for that, anyway. Though that still didn't explain what had happened, and if it could be reversed. He just heaved a heavy sigh, churring at her again the noise somewhere between expectant and bored.

That's - really cute. Don't make her do something embarrassingly 'aw' with your feathery stomach, bird. Still, since he does seem content to lie still, she'll shift him to the crook of one arm, keeping him cradled against her on that side. She doesn't see anything on him to tip her off as to his identity but from the sound of the explanation over the phone it's not just hawks running around. Hesitant, too curious to resist, she'll lightly run a finger over one of his curled in toes. What a funny feeling.

"They're trying to figure out what happened and how to reverse it but at the moment, speculation is on that artifact they brought in yesterday. I'm going to guess and say 'Agent Barton'?

That foot stretched reflexively, just like any animal being tickled, really, but fuck it, he was comfortable at the moment and he wasn't going to do anything to make her drop him.

He pondered for a moment how best to answer that question, finally just clicking his beak once. Once for yes, twice for no, seemed like a pretty basic code, and it usually worked.

Okay. That foot stretch was too cute and despite herself and knowing better, the edges of her lips hook upward. And of course she has to do it again just to see. She's good at multitasking though and so she catching the single click from his beak. It's too decisive a gesture to be accidental and it's not hard to surmise it's code. She suspects that's a yes but just to check, she'll ask:

"The sky is blue?"

Yep, it got the same reaction, and another churr as his eyes slipped closed, because that was nice, and he was nice and cozy where he was right at the moment, and it had been an exciting morning, he was already exhausted.

There was a heavy, sullen sigh at the question, giving the impression that he was rolling his eyes even as he clicked his beak just the once.

Oh suck it up, Feathers. It's called being methodical. It keeps misunderstandings from happening. Especially when one half of you can't articulate well. Maria's never been this close to a bird and paying attention and she hadn't realized they had little eyelashes as well. His foot gets another longer stroke because that level of cuteness just can't be ignored and he doesn't seem adverse. Quite the opposite in fact. So once click means yes. Which will probably put no at two clicks but she'll check because it's the intelligent thing to do and really - what else is she going to do with her free time until they get this fixed and come get the sleepy bird out of her arms.

"Water's orange?"

He was pretty much completely relaxed right then, in a way that he never really managed as a human. There was always a thread of readiness, the sense that he could be off and moving again before anyone noticed.

Not so now, however, when even his wings had relaxed, dipping open a little. There was another almost-aggravated churr at the question, and he clicked his beak twice, regarding her carefully with one glittering eye as if still trying to assess the threat level..

She might feel more threatened if you didn't look so absolutely gone, Barton. Not that she'd wish it on him but he sure is adorable in this form and she's making a pretty educated guess that she's never going to get to hold a bird like this again in her life. He's soft and warm and fits in the crook of her arm just right.

He could probably get some scoping in this form that he can only dream about when he's human. Using his bow however would be the hard part. His death glare gets a cluck of reproof low in her throat and she'll reach out with a single finger to test gently sliding it from the top of his beak up his head between this eyes in a soothing move.

"Loki's an ass?"

There was definitely some scoping going on as well, though it didn't process quite the same as a bird, which he might regret later, when he was in a position to. As it was he just tilted his head up into that finger-stroke, sighing again and clicking his beak once, emphatically, at that question.

He was sure that his current predicament was somehow Loki's fault, and if it wasn't, they might as well blame him anyway, because it was something he would do.

Whether it was Loki's fault or not, she had utter faith that, eventually, they'd figure out how to put everyone back in their regular form. At which point she and Barton would never talk of this. Ever. Still stroking the feathers of his crest, she murmured:

"I wonder what everyone else would have become. Agent Romanov would be a cat. Rogers... I'm thinking golden retriever. Thor would be a hamster - of course. Stark would be - Stark would be... a sandspur?"

There was another content little sound, followed by a snort that could only be avian amusement, that relaxed foot curling and uncurling reflexively, much like a cat's kneading at the air.

There was another double click at the questioning tone, because Tony would be something with a lot more swagger and a higher annoyance factor. Some sort of fancy rooster, probably. Or a pangolin, or something equally ridiculous.

"You're right. Now showy enough. He'd get a kick out of being one of those blue nosed baboons just for the red butt factor but he'd probably end up a peacock."

Experimental, she scratched along his jaw under the feathers, careful not to be too hard.

"We never speak of this once you're back to normal, you understand. Ever."

(no subject)

how about 2ish?

Works for me!

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