poll_the_stars | Do not mock the humble survey

Avet... has found herself annoyed. She has only one form. This isn't the problem, but this is what led to her noticing the problem. There is no way to preview what a dragon will look like. There are species books of birds and bugs and animals - but some of them are sub-par on noting where the dragon's colors go, and miscellaneous gods that she doesn't worship help you if you want to see what your color will look like on the form.

She is going to solve this problem. By taking some surveys. As in, grab photo paper, gather up a list of lines to go visit, and then knock on some doors and ask some questions and create a book series that organizes all possible forms, all known forms, what known lines look like in the forms - that sort of thing.

She starts with blue groups, because blue groups have the most available forms - she's gotten all of the big lines (well, all of the big lines that gave her the time of day) and is on the smaller ones. The ones with only one or two people. Or, in some cases, none.

This particular one's easier than some others; she doesn't need to fly to another country. It's Esmaar. She flies to the address of one 'Avar,' no line name. Apparently he had one and had some kind of explosive spat about it and gave it up. Not that it's her business. He's just another person for her survey.

She knocks on his door.

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"No," she says, surprisingly chipper. "Do you have a good way to get rid of a jar of applesauce? I'm not sure if I should indulge myself and make it as destructive as possible or not..."

"I mean, it's not the applesauce's fault. If you don't want your lizard relative's applesauce, I'll take it."

"True. I just. Do not want it in my house right now. Sure, you can have it."

"...Not much fun, is it, finding out that otherwise perfectly nice-seeming people can also be lizards."

"I," she begins. Then she is interrupted by a sniffle. She rubs at her eye, like it itches. "No. No it isn't."

...

"Do you want a hug?"

Does she?

She considers. Does she want a hug from anyone? No. Does she want a hug from Mial? ... Yes. Surprisingly.

"Yes," she says, in a very small voice.

Mial goes over and hugs her.

"If you would like more fluff with your hug, I remind you about my snow leopard form."

She returns the hug.

"That, that depends," she murmurs, sniffling again. "Which form do you, mind the, the least to get drenched? Because I am, probably, going to cry on you."

Hug.

"My fluff will survive being cried on."

"Leopard, then. And we should, should move to the couch. Instead of awkwardly standing at the door." Sniffle. "Who knows, if I'm this close to it, I might be tempted to answer it again, and, and obviously that is wrong, to answer one's door. How dare I."

He hugs her some more, then enfluffs and leads her to the couch.

She follows, and sits, and then she reconsiders, and quickly darts up to snag a packet of tissues from a nearby table, before sitting back down.

Then she proceeds to cry on him.

Mial curls up fluffily in her lap.

Good, good.

Eventually the sobs subside to occasional sniffles.

"Why are people stupid," she murmurs. "Why don't they have easily-to-spot signs that say, 'I am a lizard' or the, the equivalent."

"Beats me," says Mial. Fluffy snuggles. "I can't get blindsided quite that hard, because I don't go around pretending to be a dragon so there's a limit to how long somebody can avoid noticing, but I've still had some moments."

"Ugh." She snuggles him, some more. He's slightly damp, but still fluffy. More importantly, he's Mial. "Sorry that you did."

"I, felt ashamed," she confides, sounding disdainful. "As if, as if I was in the wrong for, for, I don't even know, it wasn't a logical response, just. Ugh."

"Yeah," says Mial. "That happens."

Sniffle.

"It's really awful."

"Yeah, it is."

"And I probably should have handled that better," she sighs. "I. Was trying to get her to go away..."

"I could tell. I think you did all right, considering."

"Thanks." Pet, pet. "I'm sorry that a nice book review became. Well. This."

"Eh, not your fault."

"Yeah." Sigh. "Thanks, though. For the - hugging. And the fluff."

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thisvorlunatic - 2015-08-07 22:46 (UTC) - Expand

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