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Dec 12, 2018 8:26 PM
a hungry lindworm walks into a bar
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Honeysuckle Rose is rearranging her furniture.

The band is learning a new song, which is always adorable — hearing the instruments falter and pick up again tickles her every time, when they’re usually so consistent. She’s trying out new cushions for the chairs and figuring out where to put a new door for a kitchen. All is quiet.

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—and then there is an enormous reptile in the middle of the floor, sleeping in a curled-up pile. He has a large dragonish head (currently issuing large dragonish snores), two mostly humanish arms tucked away half-visible, and a lovely long coily tail that goes around and around and around and around and around.

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–that is definitely an enormous lizard on her floor.

She’s had some odd clients over the years, but “suddenly, reptile” is going to be a little startling no matter your level of experience.

She puts down the armchair she was holding and approaches her new guest.

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Her new guest remains asleep. And forty feet long and scaly.

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It’s going to be a little difficult to keep her new friend in here. She only has so much floor space in here, and expanding would just ruin her new layout.

It might be more convenient to just shrink it a little, but she’s trying to keep everything nice and consensual, so instead she gives the lizard a tap on the snout.

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The snout vents a disagreeable hiss. The lizard opens his eyes and greets her with a green-gold glare and an irritable snap of his teeth, not so much actually trying to bite her as just raising the possibility for further consideration.

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“Morning, hon.”

She indicates the surroundings.

“You’re a little big to fit in here.”

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He flicks his tail, uncurling a coil which sweeps across the floor to take up even more room, and then closes his eyes and tucks in his arms and flops his head back down on the pile.

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...sigh.

“If you say so.”

She sits down on a nearby chair. (It creaks in protest.)

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He huffs a loud snort/sigh.

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“Now, I don’t know exactly what your problem is, hon, but I don’t pick up a lot of non-humanoids who want to stay that way.”

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He half-opens his eyes for another glare.

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“Four limbs and a voice, hon? Am I driving in the right direction?”

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He answers that with a disdainful, impatient snort.

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She runs internally through several exasperated pet names of increasing sappiness.

 

"Mm. Do you want to know where you've ended up?"

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He flicks the tip of his tail and shrugs semi-agreeably, lifting his head to a slightly more conversational pose. The long arch of neck rises very prettily from slim scaly shoulders.

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“This is my bar. It’s somewhere outside whatever world you came from.”

She leans back and the chair creaks again.

“It picks sweethearts like you up when they have problems with the body they’ve been walking around in.”

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Snort. Tailflick.

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“Was it wrong this time?”

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He narrows his eyes at her and huffs.

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“...first off, do you need a voice, hon?”

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Growl. A fairly mild growl, as these things go.

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“No? It wouldn’t cost you anything, cross my heart.”

She does so literally with a finger.

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Disbelieving snort.

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“Sugar, if I only took paying customers I’d miss out on all the fun.”

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He swishes his tail, uncoiling across a little more of her floor in the process, and glares somewhat halfheartedly.

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