Seriously Serious Fluff

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

Title: Seriously Serious Fluff
Location: Stacy; The Sensoriums





Morning had been mostly productive. If you count re-learning how to walk as productive and the afternoon thereof getting the cramps out of his back and legs. Still, it had been decent thus far and he had managed to half-walk, half-stagger five feet before his legs had given out.

Now, however, is another story.

Now, Renne grins a secret, impish grin to himself upon reverting back to his crawl and moving into a Sensorium chamber.

The whoopee cushion trail had been laid. Now, the trail ends in a chamber full of pillows.....



[[ OOC: Yes, it's a trail of whoopee cushions and yes, it ends in a room full of pillows. Very open, for this is a TRANS9 PILLOW FIGHT! Rowr. ]]

Comments

[morphitudinous]

After another round of training, Billy was sporting a fresh batch of large and painful bruises, with perhaps some slices on the side. Walking stiffly back from the training area, he noticed a trail of whoopee cushions on the floor. Very likely to be Renne's work, he thought with a tiny smile.

Normally, this was not the best of times to go to Renne. His brother would sense his injuries and insist on treating him, and he hated taking from Renne. Whatever Billy did, he never seemed to give an equivalent amount back.

But somehow, he knew that the imp would track Billy by the nose and confront him eventually. Resigned to his fate, the human stepped through the entranceway and into the pillow room. Pillow room...?

"Renne?"

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

Yep. It's a pillow room all right.

Pillows wall to wall, piles here and there and a few of those piles reach close to the "ceiling". Many sizes, many shapes but all of these pillows have one thing in common: They're all extraordinarily soft and fluffy. is that one over there a cloud or an actual pillow?
And then the pain jangles down a hidden critter's spine.

Immediately, a pile of pillows seems to "explode" from underneath like an odd jack-in-the-box with Renne's head being the "jack" and the pillows being the box.

"Bee?"

[morphitudinous]

"Thought that was you," he says tiredly. The sight is admittedly cute, and it draws a small smile from him.

"Today's adventure is a pillow ambush?"

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

"Eeeee. May-bee." Chirp.

Angelface. Not. A few seconds later, the oddity bumbles over (and sometimes through) pillow piles to another spot in the chamber. Here, he gathers pillows and forms them into a hopefully comfortable pile. Oh, Billy, yes, do you see that expression on his face?

[morphitudinous]

Billy sees what you're doing there, Renne. And he suspects he's in for attention whether he likes it or not.

Straightening his back once more (ow), he says "I'm guessing that's not your ammunition stockpile."

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

"Eee, noh. Is fohrrr Bee, sit-sit." Chirp.

When he turns 'round, there's a flash of genuine Renneish, mama-hen worry on his face.

[morphitudinous]

Sigh. He knew this was coming.

"All right." The human folds himself onto the pillow pile carefully, pain shooting up his spine as he does so. Thankfully, the cushions are soft. As he sits, his clothing changes. Instead of the thick and tight plantsuit, he wears a loose, thin shirt and matching shorts. The absence of the pulsing is welcome.

"Dare I ask what you're planning?"

[sonofether.livejournal.com]

Stephen had spent a bit of time wandering around in an attempt to orient himself with his surroundings. It had taken more than a bit of time and more than a bit of omnicomm consultation, but he thought that now he was somewhere in the Sensorium complex. Fine by him; it bore investigating, after all.

This also meant he wasn't quite paying attention to where he was going. Or watching where he was stepping. Until...

"Fffffrrrrt." A gaseous out-rushing escaped from under his foot. That made him stop and look around.

And, admittedly, giggle like a twelve year old, because the inner little-boy Valkonan was still quite alive and well.

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

Stephen, do you have any idea what you're about to walk into?

Pffffffpppfffft! Yes, that's a "replying" fart, as imitated via raspberry from inside the Sensorium chamber. This is followed by a chirpy kind of giggling and the sound of...something bumbling across something else that's extraordinarily fluffy.

[sonofether.livejournal.com]

He couldn't stop snickering at that--well, it got his attention off the omnicomm and on his surroundings.

Pillows. LOTS and LOTS of pillows. And clearly there have to be whoopie cushions somewhere in there, too. As well as the one beneath his foot, which he has no shame in picking up--and setting off again as he does. Oops. Because by now he has noticed Billy, who--oh dear. Looked as if he'd been trying to take a nap.

So it's a somewhat sheepish Stephen who grins down at the approaching Renne. He pitches his voice low. "Hi, Renne. Sorry to barge in, I was sort of wandering around."

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

"Eeee?" Chirp.

Yes, it had been he that imitated the fart and he's right there with Billy among a pile of pillows. There's Mount Pillowea somewhere in this room to be sure.
Ears twitching, the beastie's head kind of pokes up from the pillow pile he'd created to pamper the Human. Oh, yes, did we forget to put a warning label on him? "Warning: Prince of Pampering!"

[morphitudinous]

"Wha...huh?"

Apologies for the groggy and somewhat incoherent human lying here. Billy jumps a little at the whoopee cushion sounds and voices, finally awakening when the whispered voice is heard. He slides his glasses over his nose, sits up next to Renne, and acknowledges the other person with a slow nod. Hi, Stephen.

The slight chill reminds him that he never put his shirt back on. Deciding that the ointment is dry enough, he pulls the shirt over his head. "So you're already participating in the old Sensorium tradition."

That's not a bad thing. He's smiling just a little.

[sonofether.livejournal.com]

"I have no idea what the tradition is," Stephen admitted. "I saw them on the map, of course, but I'm not entirely sure what they are. I suppose this is a fitting time to find out, though, eh?" He slid his goggles up on his forehead, so he wasn't giving either Renne or Billy a bug-eyed stare.

"I apologize for waking you, but I really wasn't paying attention to where I was going. It's a terrible habit; I ought to break myself of it. This is just a reminder." He shook his head ruefully at that.

[mustbemade.livejournal.com]

Adrastos was still exploring the ship when he saw the whoopee cushion trail. Confused, he followed it to its end at the Sensoriums. Still uncertain as to what the purpose of the cushions was, he stepped into the room, looking around.

"Why are there so many pillows?" he asked a moment later. He could not think of a single reason why someone would need so many pillows in one place.

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

is it sufficient reason when a pillow gets flung vaguely in his direction? Or, perhaps when the sound of a whoopee cushion farts its way through the air? Either way, there's something blue half-buried in pillows, trying really hard not to snicker.

[sonofether.livejournal.com]

Oh, this should be very interesting. If he has a chance to catch his breath, he'll sit back and just see how Adrastos reacts to this. Blame Science.

This does, of course, open up quite the awesome pillow-whapping opportunity as well, though.

[mustbemade.livejournal.com]

Adrastos hadn't fully realized he could become solid here, so he was still just a hologram when the pillow reached him. He looked around. "These are the Sensoriums? What is that noise?" The two questions were in no way related, even in his mind; they just occurred to him at about the same time.

Although if these were the Sensoriums, he should be able to ask Stacy to create a physical body for him, if only temporarily.

There we go.

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

Pffffppppfffffft! Pffffppppfffffft!

With another mini-barrage of pillows comes, in a few of said released pillows, the farting herald of whoopee cushions. The blue thing still doesn't reveal its face but by now, yes, it's snickering and giggling like there's no tomorrow.

[mustbemade.livejournal.com]

Adrastos was solid now, and it was fairly disorienting. There were some senses his father had never managed to replicate--touch being the most obvious. He reached out with both hands and managed to catch one of the pillows, frowning at the sound it made when he did and at the strange feel of it in his hands. Another two hit him while he was focused on that one. He took a step back away from the source of the pillow barrage, still unsure of what was happening.

[enter-aeneas.livejournal.com]

Spthfffffft.

Aeneas stopped where he was, midstride with his back leg still compressing the air out of an odd…rubbery container of some sort. A rubbery container that made the most bizarre noise when stepped on. Perhaps stranger still was that it was, apparently, designed to do this, and that someone had saw fit to place a trail of them to the Sensoriums.

Suitably intrigued, the alien carefully followed the path into the appropriate chamber. Eyes wide and footfalls cautious of further entrapments, Aeneas slllloooooowly craned his neck towards the pile of pillows…

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

"Rrrraowrrr! Hell-loww!"

Hello, Aeneas! Meet a little blue critter half-buried in pillows and wielding a couple of said fluffy, soft objects. The critter probably...well, many of the pillows are larger than it and...well. Critter probably looks ridiculous. No, Critter doesn't care either.

[enter-aeneas.livejournal.com]

Oh, but this creature certainly did.

The sudden appearance of this tiny blue imp was enough to elicit a mortified Errrrreeeeek! from the one at the entrance, who then promptly doubled back and stood stock-still in front of the door. It took him several seconds to regain his composure; the only thing keeping him from running off was, firstly, that he recognized the offender. Though he and this odd critter had only interacted on one or two occasions (one of which included Aeneas being bedridden and traumatized from a tangible nightmare), the exchanges of emotion were enough that the alien remembered it with unnerving clarity. And secondly, the creature was hardly threatening. I mean, it was wielding pillows. In a giant pile of pillows. Really now.

Not that he was any less cautious. “Am…am I allowed to come in?”

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

"Eeep! Rrrr-enne noh hurrr-t!" Squeak.

Chittering, the beastie gently tosses the pillows in two very random directions and bumble-crawls across the fluffy terrain toward the voice. Sniff. Sniff. Ear-twitch. And...well, he can't help but offer a tiny grin.

"Eee, yeu wahn-t Puff-Puff figh-t? Is p-lay, noh hurrr-t."

[enter-aeneas.livejournal.com]

Puff…puff?

Aeneas cocked his head, glancing at the oddity with a quizzical brow and a slight twitch of his feathers. He never really had the chance to observe this one in much detail, and now that he was, he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He wasn’t even sure if it knew what to make of him, either—though if that was the case, it was taking this in a much better stride than Aeneas was.

He reluctantly decided to make an effort in clearing up this assumed confusion and, as he figured was the way this creature was identifying its visitors, offered a muscular front leg for sniffing purposes.

“…O-okay,” purred the alien awkwardly, “Are—are there any rules?”

Clearly he’s been secluded for too long.

[bluebrassmonkey.livejournal.com]

Said leg gets a sniffing-at. A very curious sniffing-at.

Chirping, the oddity offers a brief but gentle almost-nuzzle to try and basically say that he means no harm. Of course, seconds later, the pillows in his paws come up.

"Eee. Hell-loww! Is ohn-lee th-is: Noh hurrr-t no-bo-dee."

Now, Aenease, you get a pillow tossed at you. Gently, of course.