⇨ The Tourist Trap: PROLOGUE

[ringleaders]

Who: Anyone, anywhere in Portland.
When: Any time before the start of the event.
Where: Portland area, in the new reality.
What: Once you've submitted your AU summary, you can use this post to do some CLOSED THREADING to play out some character interactions that happened before the event start. This means that memory regains will not be in play yet. Open top levels are not allowed - these threads are intended to sort out closed interactions between planned backstory connections, during the week leading up to the actual event start.
Warnings: Could be anything.

PORTLAND, AS YOU KNEW IT↴ The shift went unseen and unfelt. One moment you were one person, and the next, another. This before all that, though, in the new life that you remember living here in Portland. No memories of your true self have arisen yet, and at the time this was the only life you knew. Did these events truly happen at all? Or do they only exist in memory?

Comments

[periphrasing]

Peridot lets out a dubious sounding groan. Is it possible for a bat to appear skeptical? Because she feels pretty skeptical about this plan.

"We're already at the library. Why go home? Isn't library science like, your thing? You should be able to research up a solution easy, with all the resources we have access to here."

[whattaprick]

"I haven't picked a major yet," Lambert snaps back, automatically defensive; sure, he's flirted with a few different subjects and so far he kind of likes the idea of getting more into research, but he's really a little worried it's a little too much nerd.

But his life choices aren't what are on the chopping block here!

"Well we can't stay in this bathroom and I can't go out there holding a bat," he'll point out instead. "So you're going to have to hide somewhere." He's going to take this opportunity to multitask, awkwardly slipping his backpack and reaching for her discarded clothes so he can start stuffing them inside.

[periphrasing]

Another groan. This is so embarrassing, and Peridot hates every second of it.

"Can you at least let me maintain some of my dignity by letting me ball my undergarments up inside of the rest of my clothing? I don't want you touching them," she complains.

[whattaprick]

There are arguably a plethora of more embarrassing stories Lambert could rib her with, including a snide you weren't this fussy a few years ago, but a bitchy Peridot is a good sign things are gravitating a little bit closer to normal, at least, and he rolls his eyes, bundling up the cloth (see, he isn't touching them) and jamming it all on top of his other shit.

Unfortunately, it doesn't leave much room for her to actually shove herself in, and he frowns, glancing between her and the bag before he sighs and unzips his jacket.

"Come on, hop in." Yeah remember that thing called dignity, Peridot? Kiss it goodbye.

[periphrasing]

On her perch, Peridot leeeeeeans away. Her little bat snout is all scrunched up.

"You can't be serious."

[whattaprick]

"You're not going to fit in the bag," Lambert says, with exaggerated patience.

"And if we're gonna stick around, I really don't want to explain why I'm carrying a bat around."

[periphrasing]

She can't help but wonder: What did she do to deserve this? She's a good person, she works hard and gets good grades and generally doesn't do crime, so why, universe, is she being punished like this?

Peridot heaves a sigh and wobbles her way up Lambert's arm, and then clings to the front of his shirt as directed. "Oh my god. Why are you so sweaty?" she complains. "Did you run here or something?"

Come to think of it, he still hasn't explained how he found her here. Hiiiiighly suspicious.

[whattaprick]

Lambert had, but she doesn't need to know that, does she? He isn't certain about it himself, and it's easier if they focus on one person's problems at a time. Once she's securely on, he'll zip up his hoodie (it kind of awkwardly looks like he got knocked up or suddenly got tits or whatever, but he'll live) just enough that she isn't super obtrusive, and ... yeah, he really should have thought this through better.

"You probably haven't realized this because you never work out, but sweating is a thing most people do." Gingerly, he slings his bag over his shoulder, then walks to the door. "Where'd you put the rest of your stuff?"

[periphrasing]

"Wow, you're hilarious," she replies dryly. "Nngh... I left my bag over by one of the computer stations. It should still be there, provided some rando hasn't gone and lifted all my stuff."

Anyway get ready for some awkward tickling, Lambert, because Peridot is moving north to poke her head up just over the neck line of his hoodie, so she can squint out and get a sense of what her field of vision is.

Not that she can... see... anything very clearly... what with the bat eyes, and everything.

[whattaprick]

"All right. Try not to talk too much once we're outside."

Lambert's wit is amazing, thanks. He lets her wriggle her way to a better position, cracking the door open and scanning their immediate surroundings -- thankfully clear -- before he hustles over to the computer stations as directed. It isn't hard to find Peridot's stuff, and he slides into the seat, putting his bag next to Peridot's and reaching for the mouse.

The timer's still running -- thankfully? -- so it's not hard to pull up a new browser window, before he pauses. What the fuck does he even search for, here? Finally, after a moment's hesitation, he types:

can humanss turn into bats?

The initial results aren't particularly reassuring. Neither is searching for bat transformation.

[periphrasing]

Fortunately, Peridot really can't read the screen because, as previously mentioned, bat eyes are garbage. "Are you finding anything?" she hisses urgently, wriggling up a little higher to try and see if she can interpret anything on the monitor. Huge yellow ears are probably grazing Lambert's chin at the moment.

[whattaprick]

Lucky for Lambert, really, because nah, he's really not into looking at weird pictures when any time a librarian could come look right over his shoulder.

"Hold on," he mutters back. The tickle of ears against his chin -- something that makes his skin instinctively goosepimple and leaves him fighting the urge to jerk away -- does inspire him to look up something else: white bat, yellow nose.

There. Now that's something marginally useful.

"Looks like you're a Honduran bat. Just a really big one." He squints. "...you aren't from Honduras, are you?" #Logic at work.

[periphrasing]

"Seriously?" Come on, man. "How would I even know? I don't even know who my birth parents are, let alone where they originated from."

[whattaprick]

It was worth a shot. "We're not getting anywhere with this," Lambert grumbles under his breath. "What were you doing before you ended up in that bathroom?" People just don't turn into bats out of nowhere, after all, maybe if they retrace her steps they can pinpoint something useful.

[periphrasing]

Peridot is gradually emerging from his sweatshirt without even realizing it, because it's too warm and sweaty in there and she does NOT care for it. Her little thumbs on her wings are gripping the neckline of the hoodie now, her whole head poking out the top. At the very least, she's keeping a hyper-sensitive ear out for any approaching footsteps...

"I was using this computer, obviously. I... Haven't been feeling well for the past few days," she admits quietly. "So I came here to do some research on the symptoms."

[whattaprick]

"A few days? You should've told me." What else is technology for, if not pointlessly complaining to your big brother about feeling like shit. Luckily, with his back turned to the rest of the library, the sudden fuzzy tumor he's acquired on his throat.

"Tell me about your symptoms."

[periphrasing]

"What was I supposed to tell you," Peridot says at an intense whisper, to make up for not being able to talk as loud as she'd otherwise prefer. She starts making alternating poking motions with her bat thumbs, ostensibly in an attempt to mimic typing while she talks like she's dictating a letter: "Dear brother! How are you doing? I just wanted to let you know that I've been having what seem to be stress hallucinations! I genuinely believe I may be going clinically insane, because while I was brushing my teeth last night, I looked in the mirror and noticed my ears were growing pointy! To say nothing of the strange occurrence of the other day, when during English class, I started having trouble holding my pencil, and looked down to see that my fingers were twice their usual length!"

[whattaprick]

The hissing isn't as quiet as Peridot (or Lambert) would prefer, as there are at least a couple of people whose heads lift up to shoot irritated looks in their direction even if they can't quite pinpoint the source of the sound. Lambert, however, isn't paying attention to them, because this is clearly some kind of cry for help (even more so than Peridot's existence in general).

"Dot, you know I'm the last person to judge you," he says, starting off with his best effort at a 'concerned big brother' tone that ... quickly goes right out the window, because fuck if Lambert can do subtle. "But how long have you been doing drugs?"

[periphrasing]

Peridot is stunned into silence for all of two seconds, until finally she has an outburst in an even quieter, even more intense whisper: "I have not been doing drugs-- See, this is why I didn't say anything!" she hisses.

[whattaprick]

"I was just asking," Lambert huffs back. Better than maybe she's going crazy at any rate, but at the same time ... she's inarguably a bat, so it's not just her imagination.

Still, there's another possible explanation, though it sounds even crazier -- the kind of thing teenagers joke around about all the time, with an air of scandalized glee. One he doesn't want to think about, but hey, they'll get to that later.

"You said you thought they were stress hallucinations. Why?"

[periphrasing]

She sighs softly through her teeth. "Three words: Mandatory school play.

Like that should be enough to explain everything right there.

[whattaprick]

Lambert was a huge ham when he had to do the mandatory school play and got kicked out for being too obnoxious during rehearsals, so he can't really say he relates, but he winces in sympathy anyway, imagining Peridot trying to navigate that.

"My condolences." For her sake or for the other people in the production, he doesn't clarify, and he types a few more words into the search engine. He clicks one of the results at random, lapsing into silence at he skims through.

"Well," he says, after a moment. "According to this, only two things could turn into bats, and that's a shapeshifter or a vampire."

[periphrasing]

"Vampires!?! Vampires aren't--" real, she starts to say, but then she remembers that a few hours ago she didn't think it was possible for a human to completely change into a different species of animal, so. Vampires could entirely be on the table here, for all she knows!

"...I don't want to be a vampire," she squeaks with dismay, after a short moment.

[whattaprick]

The third option is that Peridot's somehow managed to become a wizard without every thinking about it, which Lambert seriously doubts is the case here, judging by how the EMPHASIZED TEXT on the blog post repeatedly assures visitors that self-transfiguration is a difficult task even for the most skilled of mages.

... He'd also meant that as a joke, mostly, so he feels a little bad she's taking it seriously now.

"Unless you're suddenly feeling the urge to drink blood and have a new allergy to daylight, I think you're fine," he says reassuringly. The 'shapeshifter' bit isn't all that helpful, either, but it gives him a few different things he can try searching for.

[periphrasing]

"Maybe the blood cravings just haven't kicked in yet," she grumbles mostly to herself, because she's still hung up on this. "But I don't remember being bitten by anything recently... Wait, does it say how vampires occur? Is it a bite? or is it something else?"