Case #001 || Video/Action

[inspectspickles]

[You awaken in a BRIGHTLY COLORED city, which is extremely reminiscent of the IMAGINARY CITY STREETS. You spend a few minutes looking for CHEESE TRUCKS and NERVOUS BROADS, but find neither. Undeterred, you use your high-class DETECTIVE SKILLS to find the place inscribed on a KEY you had found in your hand, and wind up on the doorstep of 204 Grimm

Comments

action

[notthehead]

[and so a tiny person falls out of a tree, bounces off the head of the interpretive dancer, and floats gracelessly to the ground.

the man's hat can come, too.]

Re: action

[inspectspickles]

[You would flip the fuck out like a weasel, if you weren't afraid of hurting the little guy's ears anymore. You kneel down, picking up your HAT in the process and returning it to your head - how lucky that the SIPHON stayed in it even after it was dropped! - and and give the tiny person a few pokes.

You'd ask if he was okay, but. Voice. It's still pretty loud. You'll just have to wait for him to come around from your poking, you guess.]

[notthehead]

[NIGHTMARES. LOUD NOISES AND TOUCHING AND OH AUGHHHH. Chey is handling it about as well as he handles any of those things normally - not well at all.

poke, flail, poke, more flailing. glimpses of a massive, ogling face. horrible. sensitive animal ears nearby can hear the tortured NOOOOOOOO that is Cheyspeak.]

[inspectspickles]

[This is not the best way to introduce yourself, is it. And you would introduce yourself but -- yes.

Luckily, your high IMAGINATION level allows you to think of a quick and creative solution to this. Not taking any mind of the evidently horrified little man, you silently wish up a PEN and a NOTEBOOK to write up a proper declaration. Even though writing takes IMAGINATION, introducing oneself is decidedly a PULCHRITUDE trial, and you end up lamely drawing BUTTERFLIES IN THE MARGINS, around small, neat, cursive words which read the following:

'I apologize for scaring you out of your tree, sir. I mean you no harm. Will you forgive me?'

You present it to the little person happily, along with your PEN. There are two boxes, which evidently need a CHECK MARK to pass. One says YES and the other says NO.

You wait for his reply with anticipation.]

[notthehead]

[the horrible poking seems to have stopped and Chey gets that memo a bit late, flailing moments afterward. once he's stopped and managed to sit up he sees the hideous person-thing scratching away at a paper for...whatever reason. he's not sure what the hell is going on anymore he just wanted to hang out in a treeas with anything invading his personal bubble of...8 feet or so...Chey flinches as the notebook is lowered to his level, hiding his face in his hands. when nothing happens for at least half a minute, he peeks out from between his fingers, slowly looking from the paper up to the man's face for cues. but that is a horrifying face; back to the paper

[inspectspickles]

[You scratch your head, wondering what the little guy's getting at. Perhaps your proper cursive was a bit too proper. Being very careful, you take the PEN back from him and look to the NOTEBOOK in your hand.

You hastily flip to the next page, rewrite the note, and hold it back out for him to see. The PEN is once again offered. Shall we try again, little man?]

[notthehead]

[this would be a lot less unsettling if man-person wasn't so unsettling. but there has been no violence, only writing, and Chey can at least do that.

obligatory ohgodwat flinch upon return of paper, obligatory unblinking gawk...

I for you of I you no you me
yes no...

welp.

he has the pen again THE PRESSURE IS ON. WHAT DO.

circle the words he DOES know, apparently. surely this will get somewhere. in like 26 comments later maybe. baby steps.]

[inspectspickles]

[You are CONFUSED.

That's a very big UNDERSTATEMENT, but it needs to be made. You scratch your head again, thinking, and think of you whisper, it might be better. You falter on the first few tries, before settling on something that would be like whispering to your suddenly loud voice.

It really ends up being more of a normal level of speaking. Too bad you still suck at talking.]

I'm very sorry, sir.

[You feel extremely proud of your ability to control your voice. You concerningly ogle at him, wondering if he'll accept your apology.]

[notthehead]

[oh.

it can talk? (duh it can talk; how else did he get scared straight out of the tree!)

Chey's gawk is indeed concerned as well and only the holding of the pen keeps him from wringing his wrists anxiously. of course, that needs to get put down - and it is - so that he can pick up the gold ring that's been tied to the ribbon around his shoulder the whole time. now he can try this whole talking thing, broadcast kinda loud and more or less clear:]

Nname-you?

[inspectspickles]

[It can talk! You ogle it for a while, perplexed -- then notice you are exhibiting extremely RUDE BEHAVIOR and chastise yourself for it quietly. You momentarily forget you're supposed to be whispering, but catch yourself halfway and lower your voice nervously.]

I am oh God I'm very sorry I did not mean to be so loud. I am Pickle Inspector.

[notthehead]

[EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE FOREVER. Chey recoils, dropping the ring in favor of clutching his ears and tucking his head down to cower and make things even more pathetic.

he does eventually look up, though, with an expression that's pretty much why would you ever do that to me EVER???]

[inspectspickles]

[You really didn't mean to! You wonder if it'd be goo to try and pick up the little man and try to comfort him like that, but you dismiss the idea quickly. He'd probably freak out even more.

You carefully pick up the RING, though, and hold it out to him. Hopefully this peaceful gesture will allow him to see that you mean no harm!]

[notthehead]

[somewhere in that turmoil and brain-buzz, Chey is going over every syllable that (he could hear without his ears blasting out) PI uttered, a sequence of some that hopefully would resonate as a name and get the seal kickin' into high gear...

which, of course, happens. and PI is welcome to a plethora of fast-paced, unhappily thought thoughts:]

--ect-or pick-cull inspohh whywhywhy so loud tooloudpleasestop!

[inspectspickles]

[SUDDENLY VOICES--

Oh, that's just your CIRCULAR DIVINATION DEVICE. Silly you. You keep holding out the ring, and wonder if you can do the thought thing too. It was thought, right? The little guy wasn't talking, at any rate.

You decide to try. You have just enough PULCHRITUDE to do this, at least as a quiet nudging, and your high level of POLITENESS easily impresses the CIRCULAR DIVINATION DEVICE into working for you.

And yes, they are quiet thoughts. Such quiet, quiet thoughts.]

Is this better, sir?