7th Pesterlog // [Wounded skin; wounded pride] [Accidental Video]

[maid_of_fthulu]

[So hey everybody! Did you enjoy that all-month luau? Rose certainly didn't! After a full month of catching the sunset's rays, late-night boogying of the hips and short hours of getting sleep, this 13-year-old is looking like she's about ready to break somebody's face off

Comments

[note_atem]

[THIS PONY ISN'T FAMILIAR AT ALL. NO WAY.]

You don't want to be one.

[maid_of_fthulu]

I'm sorry for my cynicism, but I'd rather be equine than to deal with second degree burns all over my body, thank you.

[note_atem]

The bodies are supposedly still ours. [As he's seen the clothing that remained and the hair and is still working out the reason for wings and horns and things of that nature.] What if you'd become a horse with an all over sunburn instead?

[maid_of_fthulu]

[She thinks about it, but still wants to be a pony damnit.]

Point. Taken.

[note_atem]

[He feels a little bad. Watching people get burnt to a crisp was never truly amusing.]

When that sets into your skin, take a cool bath. It will help.

[maid_of_fthulu]

I'm probably going to take a cool shower to get this stuff out of my hair. I have no idea what I was thinking so don't ask. Then I'll need to get a new bottle of this skin ointment and then maybe go to sleep.

Though passing by confused ponies does seem mildly appealing, I can't imagine this day will get much better.

No offense.

[note_atem]

None taken. [His ears drift back just slightly.] I'll leave you to it then, Rose.

[maid_of_fthulu]

Thank you.

[pause]

...I wouldn't decline company to the nearest convenience store if it was offered.

[note_atem]

[There's a pause of his own and off screen his tail little pooftail twitches in thought. Well. What does it matter anymore.]

Should I meet you outside your room then?

[maid_of_fthulu]

That would be fine. Would thirty minutes suffice?

[note_atem]

Ah. [An awkward pony-nod.] See you then.

[maid_of_fthulu]

[And thirty minutes later, we find Rose leaving her apartment wearing something that is markedly plain. She instinctively pats Atem on the snout in a way that ponies seem to like.]

Hello, Atem.

[note_atem]

[Normal ponies but not this one. He takes a slight step back, having at least seemed to manage the hang of walking like this quite well. This is what you get from a proud pony. Still, he doesn't seem angry.]

Rose. [A NOD OF PONY ACKNOWLEDGMENT.]

[maid_of_fthulu]

[She backs off immediately and seems a little unsettled.]

Oh, sorry... I... used to have a pony, once.

[note_atem]

[He shakes his head with a slight smile.]

It's alright. I used to own a horse as well. [Well, horses, but whatever.]

[maid_of_fthulu]

Her name was Maplehoof.