Dr Archeville

Notice check 1d20+5: 16 [1d20=11] Survival check 1d20+3: 22 [1d20=19] Ooh!

Heroditus stopped in his tinkerings to give OctoBen his full and undivided attention. Which was necessary, given how fast and varied his trains of thought were! "Ah, so your computers operate on some manner of... of... of zevgosic arithmos, where information and instructions are broken down into simple questions with two mutually exclusive answers. How elegant!" When Ben mentioned infrared and heat & light, the Atlantean perked up. "Ah! Now those, I do know!" He withdrew three components from his pouches -- two rune-stamped metal strips and a flat transparent crystal pane -- and wove them together into a circlet, which he placed upon his head. "This can translate my thoughts into moving images made of light, like my memory crystal, but at a far greater range and size." He turned towards the front of the classroom, and concentrated a moment. The gem briefly flashed through a rainbow of colors, and a very lifelike image of Heroditus appeared next to Ms. Velásquez, which smiled and waved at Ben. The image disappeared as he turned back to his teammate, "it can also generate a full range of light, to banish darkness from a room. And I believe I can adjust it," he removed the device and took what looked like dentist's tools from one pouch, "to operate in the infrared range."

Horrror!Dog shook his head when Mia asked if he'd ever partaken, sending his jowls flapping this way and that, for more than a normal bloodhound's should flap. It was true he'd never used marijuana before, nor had Uncle Sasha or most of his associates... while he was around. (Many of Uncle Sasha's associates did deal in a variety of uppers & downers: the illegal drug market in the States was much more varied and vibrant than in Eastern Europe.) He'd had various types of alcohol, starting with small sips as a pre-teen at family gatherings, but never enough to get more than a mild buzz. Can I get high now? Would my body automatically negate it, like a poison? Are there Grue drugs that could get me high? He paused in his sniffings for a moment, lost in though, then shook his head again and got back to it. He dislodged another beer can from the sand, and a Twinkie wrapper, and barked at Mia to get her attention, just as Watchdog came on the scene. He trotted over to the two, smoothly shifting back to his Dayd form, though the long bushy tail remained, and flashed a goofy grin. "Hey Ashley! You come to look for more junk, too?"

Lil' Davyd hadn't really had a plan when he'd started building. He just liked playing with the colorful blocks, putting them in different combinations, seeing what could be made. A shark with octopus legs? A long cat with bird wings? A flying saucer with bear arms? And he wasn't bothering anyone while he did it, not drawing attention to himself, he was just doing his own thing. Until he wasn't. Until Ms. Johansen tried to pick him up. Tried to take him away from his blocks, his creations. His body shifted and flowed, turning into a crimson blob that slid out of the teacher's grasp and settled back onto the building blocks. It wiggled a bit, noting the sensations of the blocks over and within its gelatinous form, and let out a tiny sound of pleasure that sounded more like farting putty.

"Mhmm, mhmm," Freud!Davyd muttered while appearing to jot down notes on his pad. "Und dis reliance on de internet, did it start after your... tranzformation? Nein, nein, you vere an 'internet explorer' even before dat, ja? So perhaps it is not a case," he shifted again, compressing down into a smaller but broader form, and now resembled Dr. Ruth, "of you fearing people vill stay away from you because you are a 'freaky fish-person', but you are using de 'being a freaky fish-person' as another way to keep people avay? As another barrier? But," she held a hand up, "dis is a barrier you did not create, dat you did not choose, so it is different. It vas forced upon you, und so you vorry dat you cannot control it? Dat it vill control you?"

Form of... a Doggo! Using Shapeshift to gain Super-Senses 4 (low-light vision, scent, tracking 2 [olfactory]). I believe it's a Survival check to pick up a trail. He's not got any ranks in that, but he's got a +3 on Wisdom, so... 1d20+3: 17 [1d20=14] w00t (Given the age of the can, I know it's unlikely any scent from who'd left it would still be around, but it seems like something a mildly impetuous teen shapeshifter would do.)

Davyd, who'd ridden on Mia's shoulders in the form of an otter, scurried down as she kneeled and ran in a few circles around in the sand. At her mention of illicit substances, he looked up at her, tilted his otter head this way and that, gave the closest equivalent of a shrug that he could manage, then bounded off to where he'd found the can. Okay okay focus gotta find some tracks gotta find some clams to crack open no no tracks no footprints not in sand no scent tracks ooh! As he paced, his body suddenly doubled and then doubled again in size, legs lengthened, and his sleek otter fur grew out to long shaggy hair. Now he was a dog, specifically a Ukrainian SHepherd Dog, but with the droopy-faced head of a bloodhoud. He sniffed the ground a few times, then tilted his head up and sniffed at Mia, then the air about them. Daaamn! That's a lot of new smells! Whoa! I... whoa! This is amaaazing! The animals, the trees, the grass, the sea, the- no, no, no, gotta focus... He bent his head down again to where he'd found the beer can, and sniffed around, trying to focus on what his new senses revealed to him.

"Jimmy's a good guy. Didn't get to hang out with him as much over the summer as I'd hoped." He glanced down, "I haven't even told him about... what happened to me. I mean," he looked back up to Lulu, "he wouldn't freak out or anything, he'd think it's amazing, he'll flip, yeah. Just... haven't found time to. But, hey," he cracked a grin, "that's one of the things we're supposed to learn at Claremont, right? Time management, how to balance 'superhero' and 'civilian' life?" He nodded at her question, "movies, yeah, mostly, or tv shows. And some plays. I've seen some great boo- er, recordings of Broadway stuff." Uncle Sasha always got him the best stuff. "I've got the mannerisms down for a lot of the classic Final Girls and Scream Queens. Ellen Ripley, Sarah Connor, Nancy Thompson, Buffy Summers. Linnea Quigley, Daria Nicolodi, Dee Wallace, Fay Wray. Oh, and, of course, Elvira!" As he named each, he morphed into their doubles. "I know it's a bit limited, and that I can do so much more. Start with what you know, though, right? And then, uh," 'she' glanced down, "build up your talents from there..."

I've got Artificer's PL 8 update edit request here.

Fixer Upper'd - TA Artificer 5 unspent points! And he can be PL 8 now! First, a new Complication (Accident), and an expansion/clarification of two of his existing ones: Accident: While Heroditus is quite skilled with Atlantean technowizardry for his age, there’s still a lot he needs to learn. And there’s even more he needs to learn about Surface World technology and magic. So when he tries to test some new bit of mechano-mysticism he’s come up with, or tries combining Atlantean and Surfacer gear, unexpected side-effects can occur. The GM can give him a Hero Point in exchange for declaring that Heroditus’ experiments have created some sort of hazard, which he must drop his current task to deal with. Open Space Anxiety: Heroditus grew up in an environment that constantly pressed in on him, and not experiencing that gives him some anxiety. He sleeps in a pressurized water-filled tank, and when out and about wears a compression vest. The GM can give him a Hero Point in exchange for declaring that Heroditus experiences a major anxiety flare up, rendering him helpless and unable to take any actions. Where Are The Crystals?: The technology of the Surface World -- modern electronics, or even simple combustion engines -- are as weird and alien to Heroditus as Atlantean techno-magic is to Surface Worlder engineers. The GM can give him a Hero Point in exchange for declaring that his unfamiliarity with Surfacer technology causes significant setbacks. Now, for the crunchy bits. 1pp in Skills 2r of Notice 2r of Search 3pp on Feats 2pp on Attack Focus (Ranged) 2 1pp on Dodge Focus [bringing that up to Dodge Focus 4] 1pp on Powers +1 rank of Force Field [bringing it up to Force Field 6] Since that’s a lot of change, and since I also forgot to update my DC Block, I’m posting a complete new sheet below. Thanks!

"Yeah, you're not wrong on that," he nodded, trying to keep... something out of his voice. "When I was born, mom was 40, dad was almost 50 -- I was an unexpected little miracle!" He smiled, though his voice had a bittersweet tone, "they'd tried for years, and mama even had two miscarriages. They were sure they wouldn't be able to have children. Maybe because of Chernobyl," he said nonchalantly, "maybe something else. And it was rough on them, at first -- a lot of folks thought they were my grandparents, not my parents. But they loved me with all they had, and many in the community offered to help, but..." he tilted his head a bit, "well, mama can be stubborn at times. Good for an auto mechanic, not so good for making friends. Couple that with her pride, and she was certain she & papa & babusya, and even Uncle Sasha, could handle everything." He paused a moment, "to be fair, she wasn't wrong, exactly. I mean, I think I turned out okay, never gave them much reason to worry. And, oh, did they worry. I mean, considering all they went through to have a child, and all their concerns for my health, wanting to make sure I stayed as healthy as possible," he nodded, "it's natural they'd become overprotective, and shelter me a bit. Which is what got me so into reading, and watching movies. So, uh," he glanced away, then back to Lulu, "yeah, I never really got to hang out with kids my age, of any gender." His voice perked up again, "I do have one good friend, though, known him since elementary school. Jimmy Gray. Big sci fi geek. Hopes to go to HIT after high school."

Horrorshow can use his Shapeshift 2 (10 points) to turn into something with Shrinking 8 (Tiny) -- like a housecat, or an otter, or a hawk or owl or raven -- and ride on Mia's shoulder when she 'ports? He'd be well under the 100 lb. limit for what she can carry. Stealth check if it's needed: 1d20+8: 18 [1d20=10] Ha! +8 more if size modifier from being Tiny is factored in

Lulu's kiss did have the desired effect, snapping Davyd out of his existential funk! But mere moments after he'd regained his senses -- before he could even say anything -- the House's orderlies had carted him off, strapped him down, and plunged him into numb darkness. What... what's happening? Where are... Lil' Davyd opened his eyes. He was in a onesie modeled after a bulldog construction worker from a popular kid's cartoon that featured dogs in various search & rescue professions. He rubbed his eyes, stretched, then slowly made his way over to one of the play areas. He pulled out the plastic tub of construction blocks and dumped about half of them out on the floor, then began assembling... something. As he worked, a second and then third set of arms sprouted from him, reaching out to bring more pieces to his primary arms.

On the way back to the camp, Davyd moved to walk in front of Mia, and used his morphing powers to print a message on the back of his shirt for her to see. IF YOU WANT TO GO BACK AND LOOK FOR MORE TRASH, I'M WITH YOU! He left it there a few moments, enough to make sure she saw it, then reverted the top to its plain from and walked a few paces off from her. Back at camp, he flashed Danica a warm smile. "Who needs pictures when you've got me?!" With a laugh he leaped into the air and shifted into the various birds and other animals he'd seen, and flitted or scampered about the camp. Mia's remark about hunters gave him pause. "Yeah, but I thought this was, like, a protected preserve? With, you know, dimensional barriers or something, to keep out hunters and poachers." He looked about the group, hoping someone else had heard that, that it wasn't just something he'd assumed. "Or at least some sort of monitoring setup, to let someone back home know when someone's come here?"

Heroditus' gaze was going back and froth between Max and Mia so fast that his head threatened to spin off. "You can... and you, too... you can both teleport? Amazing! I knew that some Surfacers had exceptional abilities, but teleportation!" He slapped his forehead, "and two of them, here! Is that a common ability?" He became more animated as he spoke, "Atlantean techno-wizards have been working on that ability for some time -- the best we've been able to reliably manage is transporting up and down ley lines. And most of our sorcerers can manage it, without that limitation, though there are so few of them. But if I could-" He stopped abruptly, "no, no, sorry, I do not wish to presume upon any of you." He bowed slightly to both Max and Mia, "in fact, I really should-" And then Mia presented him with her gift. He held it reverently, "oh, this is... this is remarkable." The item itself was fairly simple, but it was the offer, the thought, that meant so much to him. Also, the display of matter manipulation. He bowed again to Mia, slightly deeper, "thank you very much." Do I give her something back? I should. But what?

Horrorshow -- “Cast In A New Role” 2019 May 11th, Saturday The Riverside Apartment of the Palahniuks Davyd lay on his bed, watching makeup tutorial videos on his laptop. He’d started with overt horror makeup how-tos -- zombies, werewolves, gill-men -- and slowly shifted his face and hands to match the progress shown. But some hiccup in the algorithms sent him to subtle beauty makeup tutorials. At first he just clicked through, tried to find more monsters, but then it occurred to him that they could be useful in practicing how to mimic people. “Davyd!,” his father’s voice rang sweetly down the halls, “lunch!” He jumped a bit, quickly closed his browser’s tabs & cleared his search history -- wouldn’t want the parents getting any ideas -- then shook himself back to his Davyd appearance. I’ve got to tell them. I should tell them. It’s been almost a month since the accident, and I’ve been at Claremont for three weeks now. They’ve got to have questions about that. Davyd exited his bedroom, went down the hall, and through the living room to get to the dining area. His mother Kateryna and babusya Oksana were already seated at the old round table, questioning the quality of the meal they were about to receive. Beyond that was the kitchen (where his father Vyacheslav was helping unload the meals his brother, Uncle Sasha, had just brought in from a nearby deli) and the sun room (which had been converted into babusya’s room). “I wish they wouldn’t make such a fuss,” his mother murmured, “especially since Mother’s Day isn’t until tomorrow!” She’d always been uncomfortable with celebrations that focused on her -- didn’t even like to have much done on her birthday -- not when there were so many other things to focus on. “I know, kitka, I know” her mother nodded, “but if our boys want to do something nice for us, why not let them? Especially if it means we don’t have to do the dishes! You’ll be helping with that,” she turned to face her grandson, “right, Davyd?” “Anything for you, babusya,” he gave her a quick hug, she kissed his cheek. “And you, too, mama,” he hugged his mother. “Hey, now,” his father chided as he carried in three plates of food, “what have I told you about getting too friendly with our two most beautiful customers? I run an upright establishment here!” “Yeah, only the boss is allowed the shtu-,” Uncle Sasha had appeared with two more plates of food, but his comment was quickly silenced by A Look from both his sister-in-law and mother-in-law. “Uh, that is, only the boss can sht… can shtay… uh...” “That’s enough, Aleksandr,” babusya murmured. He stopped -- when your mother-in-law uses your full name, you listen and obey. “Well this all certainly looks great!,” Vyacheslav announced with a sharp clap,” and there’s plenty more in the kitchen! Which means plenty to put up and clean up,” he nodded towards Davyd. “You’ll be there to lend a hand, won’t you?” Well, never waste a good opening. “Sure, papa,” Davyd nodded in return. “In fact, I can give you more than a hand…” Two extra arms sprouted from his back, and wiggled their fingers. His mother was nonplussed, having seen her son pull off many bizarre appearances. The others were all startled, and too shocked to say anything at first. Uncle Sasha was the first to break their silence, with a cheer. “Whoa! That’s great, Dayv! I didn’t know you were working on prosthetics!” He already knows, because I’d called him on the night of the accident. And now he’s trying to cover for me. But it’s time for that to end. “I’m… they’re not prosthetics,” he began, and this did cause his mother to pause. Then the extra arms shifted into red tentacles, before retracting back into him. Now everyone was staring at him. “So, that new school I was transferred to so suddenly, it’s for… people with powers. And I-” His parents leaned in, as did Uncle Sasha. Oksana gasped and turned away. “... I… I was in an accident a few weeks ago. At that movie marathon at FSU. I-” “Oh!,” his mother cried out, “I knew no good would come of those!” “Mama, please, it wasn’t- there was an attack on the school, some supervillain-” Oksana let out a muffled cry. His father slumped back in his chair, while his mother leaned in closer. Sasha’s eyes darted about the room. “I’m okay, though, really,” Davyd pleaded. “And the school, the Claremont Academy, they’re helping me to figure this out. I’ve already made a few friends there, and I’ve got two special mentors, Grimalkin and Miss Grue!” His father and uncle both let out impressed whistles. His mother’s fury abated somewhat: both were known superheroes, and Grimalkin was especially known to help the less well-off. Oksana had even turned back to face the family, and she looked at him with a mix of love and sadness, a sadness born of fear. They talked through the night, about what had happened, and what he planned to do. Davyd made a point not to mention how his uncle had been involved in the post-accident events, as that would just open up more arguments. The most heated parts of the discussion centered around what he would do with his new abilities. Oksana wanted him to hide them, and live a quiet and unassuming life, like so many other powered people in Eastern Europe -- the “Sleepers” -- had done, and Kateryna agreed. Sasha and Vyacheslav were all for him using and exploring his abilities, his father encouraging self-expression and self-discovery, while his uncle argued more practical angles. Sasha’s practicality arguments, and Davyd’s talk of reports showing that the Sleepers faced numerous problems stemming from not using their abilities, won Kateryna over, but Oksana was slower to come around. “It’s okay, babusya, this isn’t the Old Country. No one from the Government is going to come in the night and take me. This is a good thing, really,” he approached her and held her hands in his, “that start of a new life for me. Just like how coming to America was the start of a new life for you,” he turned to face his parents, “and for them.”

"No," Davyd pleaded, "no, Astrid, this isn't that way." Whatever was going on seemed to have a more pronounced effect on Davyd. Was it due to his own overly-malleable form? An aspect of his Grue nature, defaulting to going along with the dominant collective? Or something more personal? Maybe Dr. Harlan's right. What are the chances a quiet, shy, introverted high school theatre tech like me would ever become a superhero? Would ever get powers? Sure, things like that happen in Freedom, but to other people. To athletes and extroverts. Not to the quiet ones. Not those like me. And a trip to the Caribbean? Back in time? To outer space? To another dimension? Maybe these past six months really all have been a dream. No, not a dream - a delusion. Really, someone like me, hanging out with a Prince and his dragon, and a goddess, a gorgeous psychic... absurd! He looked over the group, then back to Dr. Halran, mkaing just fleeting eye contact before casting his gaze downward. His voice was broken, cracked, "I... I'm not feeling well, Doctor... I think... I think maybe I should go lie down for a bit..."

CAST BY THEV Horrorshow 4 points to spend But first, a minor edit I’d like for his Disguise skill. Please change it from this Disguise 7 (+10, +40 w/ Morph) To this Disguise 7 (+10; +30 more w/ Morph, +15 more w/ Shapeshift) Now, for actual point expenditures. Let’s increase the Action on his Shapeshift to Free (so it matches his “Metamorphic Body” Array), and the Duration to Continuous (so he can hold a form when sleeping). So this Shapeshift 2 (Move action, Sustained duration, physical traits, 10 points) [16PP] Becomes this Shapeshift 2 (Free action, Continuous duration, physical traits, 10 points; Extras: Action [Free], Duration [Continuous]) [20PP] Also, please note that he is PL 11 now. Thanks! EDIT: Another change, limiting the Impervious Toughness his “Chitinous Horror” form grants so it’s only effective vs. physical damage, making him more Thing-like. Bullets & punches & claws won’t do much to him, but intense cold & electricity & fire can. Using those freed up points to add some movement powers in that slot. So changing this: AP: Enhanced Strength 6 (to 26/+8) {6} + Impervious Toughness 10 {10} + Strike 2 (PFs: Improved Critical 1 [19-20], Mighty, Variable Descriptor [bludgeoning/piercing/slashing]) {5} {6+10+5=21/21} (Chitinous Horror Form) To this: AP: Enhanced Strength 6 (to 26/+8) {6} + Impervious Toughness 10 (Flaw: Limited [Only vs. Physical]) {5} + Leaping 2 (x5; running long jump 90 ft., standing long jump 45 ft., high/vertical jump 22 ft.) {2} + Speed 1 (10 mph/100 feet per round) {1} + Strike 2 (PFs: Improved Critical 1 [19-20], Mighty, Variable Descriptor [bludgeoning/piercing/slashing]) {5} + Super-Movement 1 (Wall-Crawling) {2} {6+5+2+1+5+2 = 21/21} (“Chitinous Horror Form”) Thanks!

When Davyd saw everyone else's outfits had changed, he quickly checked himself. "Hunh, okay, some sort of interactive story deal? Holograms over the guests, to make them look like part of the-" A look of horror quickly spread across his face, "whoa, this isn't a hologram, this is... aw, man! My outfit! I'd spent hours on that! Oh!" His hands went to his face, felt no fur, no fangs, no pointed ears, and cursed. "My makeup! I'd worked for so long on that, too! How the- wait." He pulled his hands away from his face, and stared at them for a long moment. "I... I can't...," a growing panic swelled in his voice, "I don't have..." He looked to the others, tears in the corners of his eyes, "what is going on here?!"

"Oh, yeah, Project Freedom!" He shifted back to himself, "I've read up on them. I think it's a great idea! It always kinda bummed me out to see people using their superpowers for villainy. If you're lucky enough to get powers, you should use them to help people!" He cocked his head slightly, "I mean, I know there's, like, lots of reasons for people doing crimes, and it's not always their fault. And there are some people who are jerks and monsters even before getting powers, and getting them just made them worse. But if you're the type that didn't do anything seriously bad -- or even if you did but it's only because you were under mind control or something, not in full control of yourself -- then I'm all for rehabilitation and giving them a chance to give back to society!" He paused, scratched the back of his head, "ah, sorry, didn't mean to get all preachy-political there. So, okay," he placed both hands on his lap, "you weren't completely alone out there, others were questioning her, too. But, it sounds like there was already some bad blood between them and her. So, maybe not the most objective..." Another pause, then he leaned forward a bit, "I get the feeling there's more to this than you're telling me, though." He shifted again, now looking like Sigmund Freud, "what does Aquaria's words mean for you, hrm?"

While Strix was was de facto "President" of the Twilight Lodge, it could certainly be argued that Dead Head was more in touch with it, at least in some respects. He could always see and hear the spirits within, even when they were otherwise invisible even to a vampire's enhanced senses. And he was seeing and hearing a lot of them now. A few were excited to see the addition of a new member, another soul who might take pity on them. Others were more irritated, knowing it meant one less person they could (seriously) torment. Some even were terrified, seeing a glimpse of the hell that awaited them when Strix opened that furnace. "An' if ya wanna stay on this side," he murmured, "or even get a shot of goin' upstairs, y'all'll be on yer best behaviors." Once the ritual was done and Wadjet had turned away, he turned to Strix. "So we're goin' to th' shelter now? Or splittin' up, one fer th' shelter an' one fer th' hospital? Or d'ya want me t'see to our guests, see what I can do 'bout drawin' that curse out?"

Davyd's picks were a mix of pop and rock, with a bit of folk, mostly in either Ukrainian or Russian, which he gladly translated for her. His tastes ran the gamut, from cheery pop to orchestral folk to hip hop to heavy metal. He stuck mostly with lighter fare for this trip, though, out of deference to the driver. Besides, there'd be plenty of spookier tunes at the mall. He spoke some about his family -- his eclectic and multitalented musician father, his no-nonsense auto mechanic mother, mischievous uncle Sasha, and beloved babusya, the maternal grandmother that held everything together. He started to describe how his parents met & fell in love on their trip over to America in the aftermath of the Chernobyl disaster, but quickly grew embarrassed and changed the subject, to various Ukrainian and Ukrainian-American holidays, and the foods that often went with it. "And since babusya is a devout Jew, uncle Sasha is Eastern Orthodox Catholic, and dad's folks are slavic pagans, my family has a lot of celebrations!" Davyd knew of roleplaying games -- what theatre kid didn't? -- but he'd never played before. "I was much more shy back before I got my powers, so I never asked anyone if I could join, and no one ever offered a spot to me. But a part of me always wanted to..." His tone dropped a bit, then shot back up, "so, yeah, I'm totally up for that! Maybe a Bard or Sorcerer..."

Davyd howled appreciatively at Dio's entrance, and smiled (as best he could) when he saw Abby. To the Joisey Witch, his reply as "don't worry, I'm house-trained!" "Well, unsettling's kinda the point," he whispered back to Dio. (I'm in a haunted house, chatting with a dragon. Just an ordinary Halloween night for a Freedom City teen.) "I mean, it is a bit more camp than I'd expected, more kitsch," he sniffed at some of the decorations, muttered something about cheap latex, "but that sort of thing's as much a part of the holiday as the more serious scares. Though I'd like to think that if there really is some sort of witch or goblin or other nasty at the center of this, they'd spend a bit more on the decor..." He looked to Leroy, then back to Dio, "they have Halloween where you two come from, don't they? Or something like it?"

When Dayd woke, he was grateful that he'd been in a sleeping back that zipped up all the way, because while he'd slept his body had shifted into a featureless red mass! Okay, Davyd, get it together, don't want Benny or Mr. Jorgensen to see you like this. They'd understand, sure... well, they'd probably understand... best not to risk it. He started with the broad strokes first. Two legs, two arms, one head. Two eyes, two ears, a mouth. Fingers. Toes. Hair. Skin color. Teeth. I'm getting better at this, changing back faster. Still wish I could stop from changing while I'm asleep. Is that something all Grue deal with? Or is it just because I'm part Grue? I'll have to be sure to ask Daphne at our next training session. When he emerged from his sleeping bag, Benny & Mr. Jorgensen had just finished getting dressed and were about to start breakfast, and he joined in. "So I'm guessing eggs aren't on the menu, hrm?" That ill-conceived joke got him cleaning duty. But that did not take too long, and soon he was off, marveling at the variety of wildlife and doing his best to mimic them. He focused on the river and sea, focusing on gastropods and cephalopods, which he found easiest to shift to (no skeletal structure to worry about!), though he also spotted and mimicked some otters, and wondered if Lulu would like that. Late in the day, he got a very close look at some birds, when a seagull dove in for dinner and grabbed him while he was squid-ing about, but he managed to shift away without causing the bird much physical harm. (Psychological harm, on the other hand...) But when he looked up from his impromptu landing spot on the beach, he saw something completely unexpected, half-sunk in the sand: an old, worn-down, crushed beer can. "Uh oh. That... that can't be right." A cold dread crept over him, "I... I need to call..." He thumbed on his communicator, "hey, um, this is Davyd, and I found something really weird. I'm, uh, I'm a bit turned around, though, and don't... I don't know exactly where I am. But you can track me on this, right? Or should I stretch up and out and wave my arms around?"

Search check for Horrorshow 1d20+2: 14 [1d20=12] Not too bad.