The Beach, Sunday Afternoon

[furnaceface]

There was a cranky pony on the beach this afternoon.

There was a cranky pony on fire on the beach this afternoon.

Since first becoming a student at the school, Jono had been able to boast a wonderful track record of never turning into an animal. Ever. Other people, sure. But an animal? Nope. And then, today, after coming to the island to get away from his recent X-stalkers and the madness of the headlines, he'd woken up to this.

Not one to be deterred too much by the simple fact that he had no means of so much as wrapping himself up, he'd made his way out of his hotel room (after a battle with the doorknob that involved standing on his kind legs and wrestling it around with his front hooves) and to a place where he figured he wouldn't get too much negative attention. Sitting on the shore, listening to the waves... that was relaxing, at least.

And maybe making sandcastles, too. Just because.

[I couldn't resist. Open beach is open!]

The Gig, Sunday

[kestrelswolf.livejournal.com]

There were some things that Firekeeper felt she would never truly understand about Fandom. Like how people would wake up wearing shapes that were not their own. At least enough time had passed that it no longer angered her when such things happened. No, this time it was almost funny.

Because, you see, it hadn't been her that had transformed this time, but Blind Seer.

"I feel ridiculous," he grumbled as he trotted over to the barn. How was his mouth even managing human speech, anyway? This made no sense.

"You look ridiculous," Firekeeper offered, trying to hide her smile. She didn't know how long he'd be like this, but she knew it wouldn't be permanent, and that was enough. "Perhaps the horses will be glad to have a playmate who does not have claws today."

Blind Seer just scowled at her. That was not helping.

[...I blame hoorayimrich. Have errands to run, but shoudl be around late afternoonish.]

Turtle & Canary, Sunday

[swordsandsoccer.livejournal.com]

Dolf... was not a dog person.

He was pretty much the opposite, in fact. He'd been bitten by a dog once and he'd never really cared for them since. He certainly couldn't picture himself as owning a dog.

Which made having ownership of Nana fairly surreal, if a decent distraction from his worries about Cally.

It was even worse considering the state of him right now, though at least four hooves meant he was somewhat stable.

"Sit," he ordered.

Nana stared back at him, drooling.

"Zit?" he tried.

She wagged her tail.

"Lie down?"

She shoved her flank into him so hard he nearly tripped and bumped into the counter.

"...Okay then."

Mystery Sign Theatre, Sunday

[chosehumanity]

This morning, Mitchell had taken one look in the mirror and decided he'd be better off staying in bed. This wasn't so unusual the past few weeks, really, but this time he felt he had a much better reason.

Of course, then George had called, and failing to take up that phone call (because of the hoove problem) had led to increasingly annoyed voicemails on his machine, so in the end Mitchell braved the streets down to the office anyway.

The sign read,

MYSTERY SIGN THEATRE
TODAY'S SHOWING:

... and nothing.

It would appear even the NPC crew were currently lacking in digits.

Sigh.

Streets of Fandom, Saturday afternoon

[locointhecoco]

Pinkie's tail was twitching. And her shoulder was aching and her ears were fluttering. She had no idea what this was a portent of, and was so busy watching the skies that she had yet to notice there was anything strange about being surrounded by other ponies.

Look, that was how she'd spent most of her life to date. One had to expect it to take a little bit to sink in.

"Twitch, ache, flutter," she muttered as she moved cautiously down the street, peering past the edge of her umbrella hat. "Twitchatwitchy achey flutterness. What does that mean?"

She blamed the whole "it's random chaos!" weather system.

[ooc: open! Though it will go SP in about half an hour, as I go to buy furniture.]

Caritas, Sunday, 7/10

[bitten_notshy]

"The island," Jack announced to no one in particular as he wandered into Caritas for the first day of his new job, "is full of ponies."

The surly pony behind the bar rolled its eyes at Jack and flicked a dishrag at him with its teeth, as if pointing out it had already noticed that.

Jack rolled his eyes right back at the pony and slid into place. He wasn't an expert bartender, but he reckoned he had an automatic advantage over the one with hooves.

[OOC: Up early because PONIES. Expect some SP from me for the next few hours.]