Second Floor Common Room, Saturday Night

[life_inshadow]

After two years-and-counting in Fandom, all Tara had done when she woke up a boy was sigh wearily and hope it was her last time for the ritual humiliation. She didn't like dealing with boy bits, even if it was just for a weekend. But beyond that and a scrabble for clothes, it was a normal day

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[harpy_daughter]

Surreal was so Not Amused. She had to go out for food eventually, but none of her shirts fit. A skirt would do well enough for now, since her pants were also too tight, but this was simply ridiculous.

"Something smells good," she said, wandering in to open the ice-box and see if there was anything she could steal. "Are you normally a male?"

[life_inshadow]

"Only when this hits every year," Tara said. "The rest of the time, nope. My name's Tara."

She watched the fridge-prowl. "You could have a muffin, if you want."

[harpy_daughter]

"Surreal," she replied, snagging an orange fizzy-drink and abandoning her ice-box search in favor of something fresh. "Thanks. This happens every year?"

[life_inshadow]

"Unfortunately," Tara told her. "It ... gets a little less obnoxious after the first time. Sort of."

[harpy_daughter]

"I hate it," Surreal growled, popping open her drink before snagging a muffin. "I'm female. Females don't suddenly sprout male-bits, and our Craft doesn't work the same way!"

Thank the Darkness she hadn't become a Warlord Prince or something along with being male. That would not have ended well.

[life_inshadow]

"... yeah, I need to talk to Karla again," Tara decided. That was her vocabulary, and Surreal hadn't come up the few times they'd spoken lately. "You're Blood, right? I've been to Kaeleer!"

That meant they had tons in common, right?

[harpy_daughter]

Surreal shook her head. "Kaeleer is a fairy story," she said, trying not to be too gruff about it. "The only way someone is going to get there from Terreille is through Hell, and it would not be a pleasant trip."

As far as Surreal was aware, anyway. She was far too young to know of Witches or Dark Halls that were in all Realms at once.

[life_inshadow]

"So ... you don't know Karla?" Tara guessed, since she wasn't sure where Hell came into it. "Or is that a really, really rude question?"

[harpy_daughter]

"The Bluebell?" Sorry, Karla, it was that or Blueberry for the rest of your life. "We've met, here, but never in the Realms."

[life_inshadow]

"Oh." Tara fidgeted awkwardly, and wished she had enough hair to play with. "... why bluebell? The sapphire?"

[harpy_daughter]

"Mmm, yes," Surreal said, calling in her own Green to show Tara, the silver stags in the setting encircling it. "I call her Bluebell to keep her humble; aristos can get too full of themselves."

[wheeler_360]

Marshall? Totally not staring at the really hot guy wearing a skirt and no shirt. Honestly.

"'Normally a male'?" he asked. "Are you... not?"

Someone hadn't been out at all today, no.

[harpy_daughter]

"No," she growled, shaking her head. "I cannot say I am enjoying the situation."

[wheeler_360]

"I..." Marshall couldn't say 'am', as much as he was thinking it. Or, well, trying to not think it, but given the way his hindbrain was going, 'omg hot shirtless guy' at him, he was pretty much convincing himself of that whole, "Okay, gay," thing.

"... can imagine," he finished, weakly. "I don't think I'd much like the reverse. I like being me."

[harpy_daughter]

"My center of balance is off," she complained, making a face. "And none of my pants fit."

Considering most of her pants were leather, that was probably a good thing for Marshall.

[wheeler_360]

Probably, yes. Or, at the very least, for any telepaths in the vicinity who didn't want to be bombarded by mental images.

"Or your shirts?" Marshall asked. "Or is that one by choice?"