scarsolderthanyou (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scarsolderthanyou) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
theclipper_tlv2022-08-23 07:10 pm
scarsolderthanyou) wrote in theclipper_tlv2022-08-23 07:10 pm
Entry tags:
Actual Bit of Joy [OTA]
Stone's ability to shapeshift has come and gone since the hole got blown in the tree, and he is, frankly, reveling in them whenever he gets the chance. He hasn't been able to take his winged form in over a year, and every chance he gets now, he's taking it.
Of course, there are only a handful of places he fits, in his winged form: the kitchen's seating area, the medical floor, and the common space where the tree used to be. He's about as big as Kethel, his wingspan maybe eighty feet across and his hands capable of picking up anyone else on the ship with ease, only his face is more humanoid, and he has a mane of long flexible spines rather than a crest, and his feathers scales are so faded a black that he's almost gray, rather than the flat matte black of Kethel's plates.
Find him sprawled between the tables in the kitchen with his tail curling and uncurling, wings tucked in tight, surveying everyone working with a content, almost smug expression.
Find him curled up snoozing in the remains of the medical floor, coincidentally blocking the entrances to all the padded rooms so nobody can get locked away until his power reverts.
Find him clinging to the edges of the residential floors with one hand and his foot-claws while he cranes his neck towards that hole in the ship, or even climbing up (he can't fly; there simply isn't room to properly flap his wings even in the common area) to poke his head out the hole. If anyone else wants a look, he's happy to lift them up, or let them cling to the ridges of scales at his collarbone while he climbs. Raksura, being aerial predators, are immune to altitude sickness... so that's nice.
And he's actually happy, if just for a little while, finally having a little choice in at least what shape he can wear.
Of course, the fits of shapeshifting don't last forever, so you might instead find him clinging to the edge of that hole looking surly, before he manages to start climbing his way down, or suddenly disappearing from the eating area in a cloud of dark smoke and returning sprawled on his belly on the floor. "Ugh. Too good to be true," he mutters to himself.
Of course, there are only a handful of places he fits, in his winged form: the kitchen's seating area, the medical floor, and the common space where the tree used to be. He's about as big as Kethel, his wingspan maybe eighty feet across and his hands capable of picking up anyone else on the ship with ease, only his face is more humanoid, and he has a mane of long flexible spines rather than a crest, and his feathers scales are so faded a black that he's almost gray, rather than the flat matte black of Kethel's plates.
Find him sprawled between the tables in the kitchen with his tail curling and uncurling, wings tucked in tight, surveying everyone working with a content, almost smug expression.
Find him curled up snoozing in the remains of the medical floor, coincidentally blocking the entrances to all the padded rooms so nobody can get locked away until his power reverts.
Find him clinging to the edges of the residential floors with one hand and his foot-claws while he cranes his neck towards that hole in the ship, or even climbing up (he can't fly; there simply isn't room to properly flap his wings even in the common area) to poke his head out the hole. If anyone else wants a look, he's happy to lift them up, or let them cling to the ridges of scales at his collarbone while he climbs. Raksura, being aerial predators, are immune to altitude sickness... so that's nice.
And he's actually happy, if just for a little while, finally having a little choice in at least what shape he can wear.
Of course, the fits of shapeshifting don't last forever, so you might instead find him clinging to the edge of that hole looking surly, before he manages to start climbing his way down, or suddenly disappearing from the eating area in a cloud of dark smoke and returning sprawled on his belly on the floor. "Ugh. Too good to be true," he mutters to himself.
Medical work for you?
A raksura? Yet another surprise, though at least Alfredo's been aware of Stone during his time on the Clipper.
"... I wish we could all do things like this," he says, wonder in his voice as he looks up.
Then fighting would be, at the very least, foolish.
no subject
His tail comes around to pat Alfredo on the back gently with its spade.
no subject
That pat to the back definitely takes him by surprise though; he jumps, only to settle back down, putting one hand on that spade gently.
"... Thanks. Are you all right, then?"
Or as alright as anyone can be on the Clipper, especially these days.
no subject
A year on this ship has acquainted Stone with some more human mannerisms and gestures, so in lieu of trying to speak and upsetting everyone in hearing radius, in answer to the question he unfolds his arms and gives Alfredo a thumbs up. He's doing great, kiddo, he feels like he can finally breathe again.
no subject
He can sort of guess why someone this large wouldn't talk out loud, in this space, but he takes the meaning straightforwardly enough.
"Need me to get you anything?"
no subject
After a moment, he pats the floor in front of his still-folded arm. Come sit with him, Alfredo.
no subject
He smiles, because this - companionship - is definitely something he can do.
He steps on over, resting himself against Stone's arm, looking up at the Sick Ward's ceiling.
"... I was able to climb up there," he says.
"But there wasn't much to see." A pity.
no subject
no subject
no subject
He knows it won't last, but that doesn't make it good, nonetheless. It's better than the last time he was on a ship where inmates got their powers back, at least. "Don't need me to pull any thorns out of a paw in return, do you?"
Stone... probably won't get the reference, but oh well.
no subject
no subject