Needlessly Dramatic Bodyswap!

[clayforthedevil]

Right, a second ago Bahorel was definitely not out walking Feuilly and/or Harry's dogs, but now apparently he is.

...in Feuilly's body, apparently.

There's a brief moment of confusion with the dogs and issues of legs and balance, a while spent cheerfully rolling around on the ground and convincing the dogs that he is, while not Feuilly, someone they know. After that there's some time spent running, tumbling, and trying out the basic limits of his current body in general.

When he's figured that out well enough, he calls the Hector and Lady and saunters back toward the Bar, where he spots Kazul's sign.

... This body isn't used to sauntering. Well, it's going to have to get used to it, because Bahorel apparently isn't going into another one for a couple of days.

Comments

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Why is it--" No, never mind. Feuilly shrugs and fiddles with the watch until he gets an answer.

It's not a very productive conversation. There's a bit of Oh--um--Prouvaire, is that you? I'm sorry to bother you--um--no--it's not Bahorel, that is, yes it is but--here let me--, and then he worldlessly thrusts the watch at Bahorel. "You talk to him. He's saying something about--Vesuvius?"

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel is cracking up, but he manages to take the watch and master his voice enough for a conversation. "Jehan! -- No, no, that's Feuilly you were just talking to, I should have warned him. We're borrowing each others' outfits for a bit, you'll see if we run into you. Listen, are you still entirely yourself? Only there's a spell going around.--Like Halloween, right. Right,then! Tell any of the others if you see them."

He raises an eyebrow for a moment, then laughs and closes the watch. "--And he's off. But everything's fine on his side."

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly shakes his head and raises his eyebrows, but he looks somewhat happier for the message having gone through. "--So. Um. I--probably won't really shave your beard."

Probably.

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel laughs (and he's going to have to get used to that, the way this body wants to pace it) . "Backing down from the challenge?" He shakes his head and waves it off. "Go sparring, get yourself drunk, whatever. You're not likely to do anything to it I've not done before, and if you do then I salute you. We're like this for a few days; may as well enjoy it." This time he says it without the Implications. He waves broadly; go on, go on. "I trust you, you have my entire permission; don't worry about it." If Feuilly was really going to do anything horrible to him, there have been ample opportunities.

"And I probably won't practice tattoos."

...Probably.

[tu_vas_triompher]

Feuilly scrubs his hands through his hair, resulting in further tuftiness, but it seems to help him find a rueful smile. "If you do practice tattoos, there's some excellent books in my room to look for patterns. Just--don't break too many of my bones, right?"

He bites his lip, then reaches over and nudges Bahorel's arm. (His arm.) "At least it's you. It could be someone I don't trust."

[clayforthedevil]

Bahorel reaches back to press Feuilly's--his--...well, arm. Apparently. How old was he when he was last this small? 11? "I'm not the one breaking your bones--" but he's laughing again, at Feuilly's hair, this time. His hair. "--Fair warning, you do that with my hair and you'll end up looking like a wild man. Which may be the style you're trying to set, but--ah!" Right.

"Come on, let's grab clothes for the next few days while we're both here."

[tu_vas_triompher]

"Oh--right--clothes. You're not going to tailor a new set? Everything I own speaks of hard work--or petit-bourgeois respectability."

Sorry, Bahorel. You'll just have to deal with it.

[clayforthedevil]

"Horrors! --You're right, I'll just take in some of my own things. Spare us both the confusion."

Actually, he's getting ideas about that. None of his suits will fit, not by acres, but he has other outfits...hmm.

It's a project! He tosses the last scraps of his breakfast to the dogs, and bounces out of the chair.