milliways_bar | Happy Hour, Cubefall Edition!

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Happy Hour, Cubefall Edition!

It's been a pleasant enough month. After all the hullabaloo of the Shindig cleared out, Kate took some time to herself to relax. She's been around, in and out of the stables as usual, but mostly sticking to the libraries and her room.

She's pleased when she comes downstairs and gets a reminder of just what the date is.

The familiar screen pops up:

Hello! Welcome to Milliways. Today, Milliways marks the Cybertronian holiday of Cubefall, the anniversary of the day upon which the Allspark first landed on the rocky world that would become Cybertron. Would you like to sample some possible reconfigurations? (y/n)

Kate grins, taking some time to pore over the choices. The robot is a little unsettling; the horse is tempting. She was a fella two years back for the holiday, and she actually quite enjoyed the experience. Folk always like to compare what a woman can do to what a man can do. Getting some actual idea of what the differences really are...

She chews on her lip, and hits the series of buttons it takes to reconfigure her. Hell if she won't have some more fun with this.

When it's done, a napkin pops up on the Bar.

"Y'jus' like askin' me when I'm tall 'nough t'reach the shelves, don't you?" 'he' grumbles, not without amusement.

He leaps over the counter spryly, and quickly scribbles up a few specials.

Happy Hour Specials:

Robot Cocktail
Fluffy Duck
Gender Bender Shooter
Bourbon
Ice Cream
Bourbon Ice Cream

Build something for half off your drink, and an extra shot of good luck.

"Bar's open! Yeehaw."

[ooc: Open until the next Happy Hour post, or until it scrolls off the front page. All are welcome, threadhopping is encouraged, zaniness is practically required. Have fun! ^__^]

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Kate hasn't heard a thunder crack like that since last summer in Texas, during a particularly awesome storm.

Only, this ain't thunder.

This is fourteen-hundred pounds of pure cut sulk.

Once Kate has his sea-legs under him and is sure none of the bottles or glasses are in danger of breaking, he hops on the Bar, bracing himself on his arms. Dug's gone like a limp noodle — roughly even the same color.

This is about the point where Kate would normally conjure the subject's full name, but since Dug doesn't have one he's just going to have to wing it.

"Douglas The Melodramatic Dog, are you givin' up?"

"...that is not my name."

Dug lifts his head long enough to pin his ears at Kate, twisting his head sideways to get a decent view of her with this weird new one-eye-on-either-side vision he's gotten. He wonders if being a man has made her a little confused.

"My name is Dug," he tries. His ears do a complicated little dance if he tries to decide if he's still sulking or if he's trying to help out his man-master. "I am usually a dog."

Beat.

"I am a horse now."

"I can see that."

They've come full circle.

"Right now, you ain't actin' like either. Not the Dug I know. The Dug who's brave, and a good tracker, a helper, an' a good boy."

Maybe he's trying to appeal to his ego, but that doesn't mean he's lying.

Much.

"You are a horse."

He resists facepalming, and marches on.

"So act like one."

...Kate has a point. Even though Kate is a man, Kate is still pretty much one of the smartest people Dug knows, he thinks. Smart enough to know how to keep cats and also how to play fetch and okay, most people can do that, but Dug can't so that's pretty impressive in his books.

His tail tries to wag briefly before giving up in defeat, because apparently horses just don't do that. Instead they make funny little snorting noises with their nostrils and put their ears forward. Dug does both. It is true! He is a horse now, and he is big and majestic (mostly) and he will act like one!

He tries to bound to his feet, skids a little, and ends up slightly wobbly on four splayed legs. But up again! He shakes his head vigorously. "Yes! You are right! I am a good boy!" And then, because the situation seems to call for it, he tries for a loud, deep bark full of bravery.

...oh. So that's what horses sound like.

Sorry about your ears, Kate.

Majestic. Yes. Kate can just picture him now, mane and tail caught in the breeze, running through pregnant fields of amber and lavender; dancing through snow capped mountains, his golden coat dazzling the eye; bounding through foam and wave, while a turquoise ocean beats the shore at his hooves.

Only, he's much too overweight for any of that, and his coat's more of a beige and eggshell than a gold. He's also pretty sure the horse couldn't run to save his life after he ends up, spread eagle, in the middle of the floor.

"HOW 'BOUT I TAKE YOU OUTSIDE WHEN I'M DONE HERE AN' GIT YOU SOME SUPPER?"

Is he still nickering, or are Kate's ears just ringing? He can't tell. He also can't hear a damn thing.

"THEN Y'CAN GO FOR A RUN."

Dug will just have to work at being majestic while spread-eagle on the floor, then.

His own ears are ringing a bit. He twitches them back and forth, enjoying their newfound freedom, and very carefully gets all four feet solidly underneath him. He may be standing a bit like a foal -- all wobbly and not a hundred percent sure where the ground is in relation to him -- but all seventeen hands of obese palomino are finally resembling a horse instead of a collapsed puddle of limbs. The idea of getting some food (even if it is horse food) and then going for a run sounds very appealing.

Maybe they can play fetch!

"I WOULD LIKE THAT VERY MUCH PLEASE!"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLIN'?"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLING?"

"I'M YELLIN'?"

"YES."

"YOU ARE PRETTY LOUD."

"I CAN'T HEAR A GODDAMN THING."

"CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?"

"DUG!"

Jesus.

"DUG. Dug. Duuug, why don't you go on outside an' wait for me?"

"Okay!"

Dug is more than happy to do whatever Kate wants! After all he is being very nice to him and also he is going to play with him outside and so if Kate needs to be alone at the bar for a few minutes to yell for no reason, Dug is 100% A-OK with that.

It takes a couple of false starts before he's moving across the floor, leaving a trail of knocked-over chairs and general chaos in his wake as he tries to get used to the new style of walking and also the tail which doesn't want to wag but can flick like no one's business. When he eventually makes it to the door he does make one good attempt on the handle using his brand-new lips, but the door doesn't open.

And now the handle is all slimy. Ick. Dug sits down -- a rather awkward movement in a horse, and one he's almost immediately not sure he's going to keep up for very long -- and directs his very best pleading look back at the bar, the one that most people associate with a mess on the floor if the door doesn't get opened right then.

"Shit."

Whatever Kate might have earned working tonight is pretty much gone, he's sure. He can just see his tab in the red now. Well, at least Dug's cute. For the most part. Actually, it's more that he's too pathetic to get angry at.

He counts down the seconds until the Miss wakes up, and practically vaults over the Bar once his shift is over.

"Good boy!"

Well, he did wait patiently.

Just ... ignore the scowl on Kate's face when he reaches for the doorknob, and his hand slips.

Dug is bounding upright before the door is even opened, and he barely spares a tail wag/flick for Kate before hurling out of it at top speed. Outside! Outside where he can run, and play, and fetch, and swim in the lake, and roll in manure piles, and--

Oh, right, different legs. Horses aren't really designed to somersault the same way plump dogs are, but Dug's luck holds as he goes sprawling mane-over-tail onto the new grass outside. When he sits up, shaking his head and stumbling to his feet, he's unhurt.

But he's...maybe just going to walk back to Kate, right about now.

"Can we play fetch now?"

Good lord, it's like a fleshy-colored steam engine with broken wheel rods. Kate's just waiting for the porch to shake to timber, or some hapless soul to be crushed in Dug's wake. Luckily, neither of these things happen. And as Kate runs to meet him, he's laughing.

"Don't break your neck, y'silly mutt!"

He digs his fingers into that spot behind Dug's cheeks, applying generous scratches.

"I've never once in my life played fetch with a horse, 'less y'count all the times Beaut dragged me outta trouble. But, since you ain't no normal horse, I reckon we can give it a try."

"Good!" Dug leans happily into the scritches, enjoying the attention to those oh so hard to reach places. It's probably worth noting that he's actually becoming slightly more accustomed to his new and far more massive body -- he's able to do said leaning without actually coming close to knocking poor Kate off his feet.

Then it's off to find a stick. He keeps his feet pretty well this time and he's rather surprised to discover that horse teeth? Actually not bad for playing fetch. Especially when he learns to use that long neck of his for balance, twisting it around to grab the flying stick from the air, skidding to a halt like a reining champion and galloping back towards Kate.

This is fun!

Kate's glad for the extra height and weight in this body. It's just a little something extra to bolster himself against the near-ton battering ram galloping to and fro — and still getting the hang of braking.

He laughs, a wild, joyful, infectious cackle that leaves a warmness in his belly he hasn't felt for some time. Milliways is bizarre more oft than it's not; things are strange, sometimes frightening, unsettling and disturbing. You face exposure to magics and technology you wouldn't get back home. You get turned into things, fed otherworldly delights, locked up and shot at; you have experiences that would get you locked up if anyone back home ever found out.

And, sometimes, you get to play fetch with a horse, his great legs like pistons firing clods of earth into the air, his body wriggling with delight, lips pulled back in an equine grin. And you think, shit.

What a wonderful place.

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Happy Hour, Cubefall Edition!

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