video;

[shifting]

[there's a frazzled shapeshifter on your screens today, imPorts. He rubs a hand against his mouth and the scruff of his chin awkwardly, like he's going to make an effort to collect his thoughts - then promptly throws that plan out the window.]

Hey, uh. Sorta a specific question, but has anyone ever... lost track of a day and shown up at the Porter? With somethin' changed? Is that just - somethin' that happens on top of all the other weird shit this place does to a person?

Comments

[shifting]

[it's a boast that works. Sam offers a jealous, incredulous look.]

A dragon? Goddamn you've got me beat there. [chances were good he wouldn't run into one to imprint on, after all.]

...Glad I didn't add any to this dish then. [sincerely.] You should've warned me about that, I'd have hated for the first meal I cooked you to make you sick.

But I can get as big as whatever it is I've seen, never had an issue with size. [a beat.] ...D'you mean that literally? When you say "puddle"?

[rathercommon]

[ She wrinkles her nose. ]

Yeah, I ought to have done, but - I forget about it a lot. [ A little wave of her hand, and she goes on - ] Anyway. Yeah, I turn into a literal puddle. I'm not really made of flesh and bone any more - I'm sort of half that, but also half made out of magical essence, built into the structure I want to be. If I can't sustain my form, all that essence loses its structure and collapses.

[ She glances at his expression, then adds, just a bit guardedly: ]

It's a very pretty puddle, I'm told.

[shifting]

Prob'ly liable to win every puddle beauty contest they've got. [agreed with mock seriousness, honestly just trying not to think too hard about a person turning into a puddle, pretty or no. Mostly because it just makes him think of the pile of bloody gore vampires become when their un-life ends, and that's not an image that'll help him finish dinner.]

So that bein' made of part magic - that a new thing for you?

[rathercommon]

[ She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. A little self-consciously: ]

Yeah. Erm - you were around...when the Soviets invaded, right? I got killed during that. [ A little smile that doesn't look terribly happy. ] And came back, and was like this.

[shifting]

...Right. I remember you tellin' me about that. [one of the first conversations they'd had, actually.] I wasn't around for it though. Only heard about it. ...Lucky timing.

Well. Puddle or no puddle, I'm real glad to know you. You're a real beautiful person, Kitty. Inside 'n out.

[rathercommon]

Oh.

[ That flusters her - and not necessarily in the good, flirty, fun way. She shoves her fork into the food and pushes it around, looking down to avoid looking him fully in the eye. With cheerful facetiousness, she responds: ]

Well, you hardly know what my insides are really like, do you? But thank you, that's sweet. You're the same.