Queer Eye for the Electroslut.
[ for now_ish ]
Lorne groaned a little as he began to come to, stirring ever so slightly. He couldn't remember dropping off... reaching out, he was a little perplexed when his fingers touched on fabric. Pressing on it just the tiniest bit, he opened his eyes to see that he had come into contact with a pillow. Upon further inspection, he found that he was sprawled out over a floral-patterened comforter. It looked like one of the guest rooms... last he could remember, he had been in the kitchen... hadn't he?
He yawned as his vision began to come into focus, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. It was then that he noticed something fairly unusual. He lowered his hand for a moment and examined it.
... it wasn't green. That, he thought, was very strange. Very strange indeed. "Huh," he muttered, startling himself as he realized that his voice was not his own. It still sounded familiar, but it definitely wasn't his. He pulled himself up into a seated position, leaning forward to examine his puzzling hand. Even as he did so, a cascade of dark, wavy hair brushed against his face. Looking past his hand, he saw that he was wearing a pair of rather familiar-looking leather slacks.
"... talk about unnatural," he said to himself, perplexed. Getting up from the bed, he let his feet touch the floor and began to stumble towards the bathroom, the door to which had been left wide-open. He immediately noticed that he felt far lighter than usual, and even without having looked at himself properly, he had come to the conclusion that he was not in his own stunningly-dressed body.
Lorne let out a long breath of air as he came to face himself in the mirror. He suddenly realized why that voice was so familiar... his stomach gave a hard lurch as he realized that he, if appearances were to be believed, had become Gwen.
"Sweet Aretha, of all people," he sighed, running a disturbingly talon-less hand through Gwen's dark hair. Hmm... not too bad. Nice volume... he'd have to ask her what sort of conditioner she used next time he came into contact with her... if he could even figure out who her was. Heaven only knew whose body Gwen had found herself in, in the case that the entire populous of the hotel was now faced with a bizarre body-switching episode. He mentally scolded himself not to make assumptions -- after all, he hadn't seen anyone else yet. Perhaps he was the only one... but he doubted it.
He took another look at himself in the mirror. Black leather really didn't suit the girl. He'd known it since he'd first laid eyes on her, but in all honesty, he'd just never had the heart to tell her so. Well, along with the fact that he just didn't like her. Hmph. Something would have to be done about her wardrobe. Such dark colors... they weren't becoming to her at all. Gwen needed something brighter, maybe a tasteful bit of teal or pink.
He put his hands on his hips and looked down. He had to admit, Gwen did have a nice figure. Certainly a pleasing canvas to work with. He didn't think she'd mind if he gave her a little makeover while he was taking up residence in her body... in fact, maybe she'd even thank him. God, what was he thinking? Of course she'd thank him once she saw the end result. Who wouldn't appreciate his expertise? She would simply have to be grateful.
Makeover fun would come later. For now, there were more important things to deal with -- such as sussing out exactly what the hell was going on. Leaving the bathroom behind, he quickly made his way out into the hallway, where he raised his voice for all to hear.
"All right, chickadees... who the hell's been messing with dark magic this time?!"
Lorne groaned a little as he began to come to, stirring ever so slightly. He couldn't remember dropping off... reaching out, he was a little perplexed when his fingers touched on fabric. Pressing on it just the tiniest bit, he opened his eyes to see that he had come into contact with a pillow. Upon further inspection, he found that he was sprawled out over a floral-patterened comforter. It looked like one of the guest rooms... last he could remember, he had been in the kitchen... hadn't he?
He yawned as his vision began to come into focus, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. It was then that he noticed something fairly unusual. He lowered his hand for a moment and examined it.
... it wasn't green. That, he thought, was very strange. Very strange indeed. "Huh," he muttered, startling himself as he realized that his voice was not his own. It still sounded familiar, but it definitely wasn't his. He pulled himself up into a seated position, leaning forward to examine his puzzling hand. Even as he did so, a cascade of dark, wavy hair brushed against his face. Looking past his hand, he saw that he was wearing a pair of rather familiar-looking leather slacks.
"... talk about unnatural," he said to himself, perplexed. Getting up from the bed, he let his feet touch the floor and began to stumble towards the bathroom, the door to which had been left wide-open. He immediately noticed that he felt far lighter than usual, and even without having looked at himself properly, he had come to the conclusion that he was not in his own stunningly-dressed body.
Lorne let out a long breath of air as he came to face himself in the mirror. He suddenly realized why that voice was so familiar... his stomach gave a hard lurch as he realized that he, if appearances were to be believed, had become Gwen.
"Sweet Aretha, of all people," he sighed, running a disturbingly talon-less hand through Gwen's dark hair. Hmm... not too bad. Nice volume... he'd have to ask her what sort of conditioner she used next time he came into contact with her... if he could even figure out who her was. Heaven only knew whose body Gwen had found herself in, in the case that the entire populous of the hotel was now faced with a bizarre body-switching episode. He mentally scolded himself not to make assumptions -- after all, he hadn't seen anyone else yet. Perhaps he was the only one... but he doubted it.
He took another look at himself in the mirror. Black leather really didn't suit the girl. He'd known it since he'd first laid eyes on her, but in all honesty, he'd just never had the heart to tell her so. Well, along with the fact that he just didn't like her. Hmph. Something would have to be done about her wardrobe. Such dark colors... they weren't becoming to her at all. Gwen needed something brighter, maybe a tasteful bit of teal or pink.
He put his hands on his hips and looked down. He had to admit, Gwen did have a nice figure. Certainly a pleasing canvas to work with. He didn't think she'd mind if he gave her a little makeover while he was taking up residence in her body... in fact, maybe she'd even thank him. God, what was he thinking? Of course she'd thank him once she saw the end result. Who wouldn't appreciate his expertise? She would simply have to be grateful.
Makeover fun would come later. For now, there were more important things to deal with -- such as sussing out exactly what the hell was going on. Leaving the bathroom behind, he quickly made his way out into the hallway, where he raised his voice for all to hear.
"All right, chickadees... who the hell's been messing with dark magic this time?!"