hh_mirror | A wombat... er... human in search... of clothes! (Open RP)

Current Location: Somewhere between the Great Hall and Hufflepuff

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A wombat... er... human in search... of clothes! (Open RP)

Digger had had her first encounter with Hogwarts-style chocolate. She'd managed to somehow slip out of the great hall without undue notice, and was now making her way back to Hufflepuff as quickly as she could. Which, come to think of it, wasn't very quickly at all - once she got them figured out, she should be able to walk faster with her longer legs, but they didn't seem to be jointed or proportioned quite the way she thought they should be, and she kept tripping over her own feet.

She was also starting to realize that in a big stone castle like this, humans had to wear clothes for comfort sake as much as anything. She was freezing. Maybe once she got back to Hufflepuff, she could find a blanket to wrap up in and hide in her room until this wore off. If it wore off. Blood of the Architect, she hoped it would wear off.

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Ian was on his way to the Great Hall and passed the young woman in time to catch her from one of her stumbles. "Whoa! You all right, miss?"

"I'm fine," she muttered, thankfully holding onto his arm until she'd regained her balance. "Other than the whole suddenly-being-the-wrong-species thing, I'm fine. Thanks, though... Ian, wasn't it?" She carefully let go off his arm, a little embarassed, as she realized she was still holding on.

((Yeah - I think I said she'd gained about two feet, and I'd estimate her usual height at a little over three feet. So now she's about five-three, five-four.))

"Yes, that's me. Have we met, ahh...Whoa!" He turned to look more closely at her, then quickly turned away and shrugged out of his leather jacket.

"Ah. This may sound like an incredibly stupid question but I've learned from hard experience not to overlook the obvious. You do know you're mostly naked, right?" He held out the jacket while keeping his head turned in the other direction.

"At my sorting," she said, taking the jacket from him and pulling it on. With the difference in their heights, it fell halfway to her knees - perfectly modest, even if the sleeves were rather too long. "I'm usually a talking wombat - I had a run in with some chocolate a few minutes ago."

She zipped up the jacket - Digger had never had any great love of zippers before, but they were much easier to handle with human fingers - with a sigh. "Yeah, I knew. I usually don't wear much - generally, my fur covers everything important. You can turn around, now."

(Reposed with the right icon)

Ian complied. "Ah! That works. Sorry about the sleeves. Good to see you again, though frankly this was not what I would've expected." He gave her a wry grin.

"Chocolates, eh? They did this to a friend of mine a while back. Only she thought she was still fully dressed, and I guess in fact was - her clothes had just turned invisible to everyone else. The good news is, chocolate wackiness does seem to wear off after a while."

"It does? That's quite possibly the best thing I've heard all day," Digger replied, seeming quite a bit less agitated. "I guess I'll just have to wait it out then, eh? Maybe I can pass the time writing hate mail to whoever left the massive amounts of bespelled chocolate lying around."

"That could be fun, if only we could ever find them. Nobody seems to know who keeps doing this. The last batch was mixed in with the buffet at a wedding reception, where anyone would think the food would be safe."

He offered her his arm. "Where were you headed, and can I walk you there? I hope you don't mind the whole human thing too much. It's not that bad a state to be in."

"I was on my way back to Hufflepuff," she replied. "And I didn't mean any insult to your species. It's the anonymous use of magic that's really getting to me, I suppose - even when it's used constructivly, there's usually a more practical non-magical way to do something. And when it's just a practical joke..." she shrugged.

"Oh, no offense taken," he assured her. "And I agree about practical jokes. Never have understood the impulse. And with these chocolates, the prankster isn't even taking credit for his alleged wit, so where's the glory?"

"And it's always just left out for anyone to take, like that?" she asked. "It makes no sense whatsoever. See, if I went in for that kind of juvenile pranking, I'd at least have a victem in mind."

"That seems to be the idea," Ian replied. "I've seen a few mass pranks - universities tend to run to them when the stress of test season gets too high - but the culprit usually made sure he was there to gloat, and thereby made himself easily identifiable. Or if it's a group or a club, they'll publish something taking credit for the stunt. As best anyone can tell, that doesn't seem to be the case here, so I'm at a loss."

Digger sighed. "It's a shame, really - that whoever's doing this is wasting it just by leaving it out. I bet they could make a mint if they actually sold these things. I mean, it was a nasty shock, but I can see how this could be useful - it's amazing how many humans never get past the 'OMG a talking animal' stage when they meet me."

"That's a shame, because you're quite fun to talk to. Beyond the 'OMG a talking animal' stage, I mean." He grinned. "I believe some of the chocolates work in reverse. Turn humans into animals, that is. Do you know about the animagus spells? There's a branch of magic that'll let human wizards turn into a certain animal. Their spirit animal, I guess, or something on those lines. If a wombat wizard did the animagus spell, what do you imagine would happen?"

She shrugged. "Could be worse. A while back I got myself adopted into a tribe of hyenas - it's a long story - and some of them never quite got beyond thinking of me as talking food."

Digger considered the idea of animagi for a moment. "It doesn't quite make sense that it would just make any wombat into a human, I don't think. Maybe the chances of a wombat wizard turning into a human would be about the same as that of a human wizard turning into a wombat?"

"Oy. That's like some of our vegetarians, that say if livestock could talk we wouldn't be able to bring ourselves to eat them. I have a hard time picturing hyenas as that evolved, but you can't be food and family too, I guess." He shrugged. "Now there you're getting into probabilities I can't even guess at. Maybe your animagus form would be a hyena, for all we know, or some other animal that suits your temperament. Are all wombats practical and sensible as a rule of thumb, or is it something innate to you?"

Digger laughed. "Ian, my full name is Digger-of-Unnecessarily-Convoluted-Tunnels. I mean, I've settled down some from when I was a kid, but there's still some wombats back at my warren who think I'm downright... what's the hair color humans associate with flightiness? Blonde, right?"

Ian laughed. "Yes, flightiness is one of the traits associated with blondes. Now that you're human, however, I'd say your hair's more of a light brown. If we're going with the hair color scale, that implies some depth of character."

"Well, thank you, then," she replied, with a smile, and lifted a hand to absentmindedly play with a strand of her hair. "But then, yours is several shades darker than mine."

"Well, I am, technically speaking, a genius," he replied. "Really though, in my case the hair color has more to do with ethnicity and heredity; basically, I take after my father, looks-wise."

"Well, yes, I figured that," Digger laughed. "Geology isn't the only science wombats study, you know. It's just the one one we talk about."

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A wombat... er... human in search... of clothes! (Open RP)

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