Adam Milligan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
halfwinchester) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entranceway2014-03-20 12:59 pm
halfwinchester) wrote in entranceway2014-03-20 12:59 pm
002 ♟ action/audio | titled: "Three Signs of the Wonderland Apocalypse"
(OOC: Until the gender swap wears off mid-event, replies will come from halfsister, his gender swap equivalent! Open sections are for the early days of the event, approximately glossing over the 20th-22nd. :D Audio portion is posted a tad early for convenience's sake.)
| Chapter One: "Sex organs you never wanted"
[Having your nose broken and the side of your face turned into a swollen mess by someone you don't even know puts a cramp on a person's social life. After Clarisse, Adam sticks close to home for the most part, subsisting on painkillers and brief stints in the clinic where Martha makes sure his face is growing back straight.
Healing up after a shake down is slow and boring, and in retrospect Adam is sure that has something to do with why the talking lizard's changes are interesting enough to warrant his attention.
On Wednesday, the gazebo had seemed safe enough to check out. On Thursday, he's proven wrong. So wrong.
He's been mauled, he's been burnt up in Hell, he's been turned into a friggin' suit of armor, but being a flesh-and-blood girl... The adjustment period is an arduous one, to say the least, and involves a lot of time not knowing what to do with himself in his room. After the tenth time checking out old scars and birth marks, it's official, someone gave him a free sex change.
And it's the little things that get him the most.
Bathroom breaks are hard. Lying down with sandbags on his chest is hard. Clothes are disturbingly hard when bras need to go on and not off. (Sports bras count, don't they?) He takes a shower the next morning because the lack of one pushes him past his fear of naked cleavage, and it's not even deciding to wearing a bathing suit inside the shower that bothers him, it's the tangle of hair he's left with afterward. Suddenly there's so much hair! He actually needs a hair brush to untangle himself after months of not bothering, and he fantasizes about taking scissors and lopping everything. Bye bye, girly locks.
Except he doesn't, because he needs to leave his room eventually and figure this shit out, and probably should look halfway normal to do it.
At least not looking like Adam means no one will look at him and see Adam and ask about his face.
... And he'll leave once he figures out how to make the closet give him shoes that aren't two sizes too big.]
| Chapter Two: "Miniature angels and demi-gods rain from the sky" | action
[No one even look at the slouched girl outside. Don't even look.
She looks vaguely uncomfortable, wearing jeans that are slightly too big for her and burrowed in an over-sized hoodie, hands pushed deep into the pockets. Maybe it has something to do with the fact a good deal of her face is a paint-by-number color pallet of reds, blacks, and purples at the worst spots and autumn colors at the healing sights. A small white nasal splint sits across the bridge of her nose.
Or maybe it's the fact that this is Adam, and the unhappy twist to his mouth belongs to him.
The painkillers he'd loaded up on to come out here make everything warm and sloppy at the edges, and one of the few things keeping him tranquilized, preventing him from doing something he might regret like... get on the network and shout at someone like a girl having the worst menstrual period of her life.
He lurks around the gazebo for a while, hoping that's the cause, hoping it'll go back, even whining "come on, come on!" under his breath at one point in a voice that is far too high-pitched for his liking.
Nothing happens. He wanders around outside for a while and pops another ibuprofen. Still nothing happens.
He still has breasts. It's a weird day, but hey, drugs give his smaller frame an extra pow now and that makes things a little better.]
| Chapter Three: "You can't get the beer even if you want the beer" | audio
[On day two, Adam's ready to get off this ride. Sitting down to pee all the time is too much. Not being able to twist bottle caps off without waging all out war on them with the side of a table or a bottle opener isn't just a waste of time, it's annoying.
If there's a quick fix out there, he'd like to know.
Hence, Adam comes out of self-imposed isolation to speak to the network as a whole, though there's a bright side to having a girl's voice and that's that no one can guess who it belongs to straight away. In an attempt to protect his anonymity further, he's stepped out of his room to use one of the wall units he's seen around and not his actual phone. Better safe than sorry.]
This Freaky Friday body switch stuff is great, but has anyone figured out how to switch back? Someone should let the talking lizard know this isn't fixing shit.
[One might be inclined to believe this bluntness is hiding a calmness of some kind. Almost.]
Look-- [When he goes to speak again, something clatters to the ground. There's a grunt of irritation. He's made the mistake of trying to grab two of his travelling companions--his personal device and a bottle of water--with one hand, the same hand that has a noticeably smaller hand span now, too small to hold both.] Damn it. For f--
[No, he's not dealing with this calmly. He'd enjoy going back to normal, okay, please and thank you.]
Are we doing something about this or are we just sitting on our hands, 'cause I'd really like to know.
halfsister, his gender swap equivalent! Open sections are for the early days of the event, approximately glossing over the 20th-22nd. :D Audio portion is posted a tad early for convenience's sake.)| Chapter One: "Sex organs you never wanted"
[Having your nose broken and the side of your face turned into a swollen mess by someone you don't even know puts a cramp on a person's social life. After Clarisse, Adam sticks close to home for the most part, subsisting on painkillers and brief stints in the clinic where Martha makes sure his face is growing back straight.
Healing up after a shake down is slow and boring, and in retrospect Adam is sure that has something to do with why the talking lizard's changes are interesting enough to warrant his attention.
On Wednesday, the gazebo had seemed safe enough to check out. On Thursday, he's proven wrong. So wrong.
He's been mauled, he's been burnt up in Hell, he's been turned into a friggin' suit of armor, but being a flesh-and-blood girl... The adjustment period is an arduous one, to say the least, and involves a lot of time not knowing what to do with himself in his room. After the tenth time checking out old scars and birth marks, it's official, someone gave him a free sex change.
And it's the little things that get him the most.
Bathroom breaks are hard. Lying down with sandbags on his chest is hard. Clothes are disturbingly hard when bras need to go on and not off. (Sports bras count, don't they?) He takes a shower the next morning because the lack of one pushes him past his fear of naked cleavage, and it's not even deciding to wearing a bathing suit inside the shower that bothers him, it's the tangle of hair he's left with afterward. Suddenly there's so much hair! He actually needs a hair brush to untangle himself after months of not bothering, and he fantasizes about taking scissors and lopping everything. Bye bye, girly locks.
Except he doesn't, because he needs to leave his room eventually and figure this shit out, and probably should look halfway normal to do it.
At least not looking like Adam means no one will look at him and see Adam and ask about his face.
... And he'll leave once he figures out how to make the closet give him shoes that aren't two sizes too big.]
| Chapter Two: "Miniature angels and demi-gods rain from the sky" | action
[No one even look at the slouched girl outside. Don't even look.
She looks vaguely uncomfortable, wearing jeans that are slightly too big for her and burrowed in an over-sized hoodie, hands pushed deep into the pockets. Maybe it has something to do with the fact a good deal of her face is a paint-by-number color pallet of reds, blacks, and purples at the worst spots and autumn colors at the healing sights. A small white nasal splint sits across the bridge of her nose.
Or maybe it's the fact that this is Adam, and the unhappy twist to his mouth belongs to him.
The painkillers he'd loaded up on to come out here make everything warm and sloppy at the edges, and one of the few things keeping him tranquilized, preventing him from doing something he might regret like... get on the network and shout at someone like a girl having the worst menstrual period of her life.
He lurks around the gazebo for a while, hoping that's the cause, hoping it'll go back, even whining "come on, come on!" under his breath at one point in a voice that is far too high-pitched for his liking.
Nothing happens. He wanders around outside for a while and pops another ibuprofen. Still nothing happens.
He still has breasts. It's a weird day, but hey, drugs give his smaller frame an extra pow now and that makes things a little better.]
| Chapter Three: "You can't get the beer even if you want the beer" | audio
[On day two, Adam's ready to get off this ride. Sitting down to pee all the time is too much. Not being able to twist bottle caps off without waging all out war on them with the side of a table or a bottle opener isn't just a waste of time, it's annoying.
If there's a quick fix out there, he'd like to know.
Hence, Adam comes out of self-imposed isolation to speak to the network as a whole, though there's a bright side to having a girl's voice and that's that no one can guess who it belongs to straight away. In an attempt to protect his anonymity further, he's stepped out of his room to use one of the wall units he's seen around and not his actual phone. Better safe than sorry.]
This Freaky Friday body switch stuff is great, but has anyone figured out how to switch back? Someone should let the talking lizard know this isn't fixing shit.
[One might be inclined to believe this bluntness is hiding a calmness of some kind. Almost.]
Look-- [When he goes to speak again, something clatters to the ground. There's a grunt of irritation. He's made the mistake of trying to grab two of his travelling companions--his personal device and a bottle of water--with one hand, the same hand that has a noticeably smaller hand span now, too small to hold both.] Damn it. For f--
[No, he's not dealing with this calmly. He'd enjoy going back to normal, okay, please and thank you.]
Are we doing something about this or are we just sitting on our hands, 'cause I'd really like to know.
no subject
The monster-lover with her head up her ass--Lena, he remembers--looks different from this angle, and it takes a moment to process that that's because he's shorter in stature than he used to be. Gives a whole new meaning to his mom saying, "If I'd had a daughter instead...]
What?
[What does a serial killer have to do with the body...? But it dawns on him. That's right, he might recognize her, but she doesn't recognize him. He's not a "him" anymore, he's a walking baby-maker.
Lucky him, he does still have all the hallmarks of domestic abuse.]
N... no. Serial doorknob.
[The sound of his own voice makes him feel like a ventriloquist in his own body. Without further ado, he starts to skirt around her. Exit, stage left.]
no subject
When people are jerks to her, sometimes she's a jerk back. It's juvenile, but it's better than setting their final exams on fire like that girl who talked shit on her dead uncle. This is just a girl Lena's never seen before, and she's hurt. Lena knows she really can't help now, but she wishes she could. She doesn't even get the knee-jerk reaction anymore to be wary of blonde girls like they're about to bully her for existing.]
I'll keep an eye out for those.
[She turns slightly as the girl goes to get around her.]
Are you new?
[Because if an event did this, Lena wants to know, but she can understand if a newbie was beaten up by something strange and doesn't want to talk about it because who would believe her?]
no subject
Not knowing and running at the mouth isn't much better; under the circumstances, Adam has exactly zero warm and fuzzy feelings for this girl--whatever she is--getting offended on his behalf over a broken nose. A punch to the face, he can handle. Repeated torture in the pit, not so much.
He looks back as he gives Lena her answer.]
No.
[Adam could say that that's because he's been here a while and that they've already met, but he's not about to give her ammo. He's got plenty of dicks to deal with without adding one more.
If he has to hear one self-righteous word about how being a girl will give him a greater perspective on feminism, he might just snap and end up the next serial killer Wonderland needs to put on its watch list.]
no subject
Oh, okay. It's easy to miss people here. The mansion's so big.
[She shuffles her feet a little, wanting to ask the girl what really happened to her, but at the same time doubting she'll get an answer. She probably wouldn't give a straight answer if she were in her shoes.]
Anyway, I guess you're busy.
[Why else would the girl be leaving her room, right?]
no subject
For once, he just wants to be Adam, shredded soul, sleep-deprived meat suit and all.]
Yeah, just a bit. Jam-packed schedule.
[He's got a date with Wonderland's new whacky attractions to try and reverse this shit, not that he's about to say as much. Even so, despite still having the text evidence to prove that underneath Lena's misjudged little girl act is quite the judgmental bitch herself, Adam keeps his reply neutral and composed.
Giving her a piece of his mind just isn't worth it, not there will always be a Grand Canyon between human and non-human. He doesn't have to be a monster expert like his brothers to know it. He's not the person who can bridge that gap.]
Don't worry, no more killers than normal. Later.