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Arms Hotel to Covent Garden Flowers - There and Back Again

Fenris woke, warm and oddly content under a very large heap of blankets. He was ~~cuddled~~ squashed up against Fjord's larger bulk. If there wasn't something niggling in his mind for attention, he wouldn't be inclined to move at all. Not that he could, Fjord had one of his arms trapped somehow.

The niggling thought eventually coalesced. Fenris tried to sit up - only to be thwarted and yanked back toward the pillows due to the aforementioned trapped arm and the swaddle of blankets. He blurted a word, "Tickles!" The power was out. The heat to the store would be off. Tickles had been alone there all night, maybe. Fenris wasn't worried. Not about a stupid cat he didn't even like anyway. He just had to go make sure the kittenwillow was safe so Peter wouldn't worry.

Yes. That. Even though Peter lived basically across the street from the store and Fenris was halfway across town. He was just going to.. go make sure. That was all. Not worried. Not at all.

Prodding Fjord, he said, "Fjord, wake up. We have to go out. Well, I have to go out, and I want you to come with me but more to the point, I can't get up because you're laying on my arm."

[Mostly for Fjord and maybe Peter but sort of openish]

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"Your arm's warm, innit?"

Point to the half-asleep half-orc who didn't want to come out from under the blankets.

"Why the fuck do you want to go out there?" A pause. "Why do you want me to go out there?"

Fenris responded by putting his nose - which was not warm at all against the back of Fjord's neck. Which helped warm the nose up but probably did nothing for Fjord.

"It isn't a want," Fenris grouched, "Nobody's at the flower shop. The store pet is alone in there and the power's off. And.."

He growled, sighed, and then muttered an admission, "Because I have a bad feeling and would rather have another sword with me."

He didn't like admitting to the twitchy way the weather was making him feel. There was no reason for it and he didn't like the illogic.

Well, that was one hell of a shiver running along Fjord's spine, which meant that, yes, he was grudgingly shifting his weight around and turning a faintly sour look in Fenris' direction.

... He did relent a moment later after that admission, at least.

"... Yeah. Give me a minute to get ready."

Cold floor cold floor...

Fjord never woke quickly if there wasn't an emergency. Fenris was used to it. He was slowly working his arm out from under his roommate and trying not to tickle him while doing it. Difficult since the arm had gone pins and needles.

But it was warm.

"Alright," he agreed, giving Fjord time to combobulate himself.

Fjord sat up. Stretched. Turned a dirty look to the window. Sighed.

Stood and made a reach for his clothes and his armor and started to ready himself to go out in that. Yes. With the scarf. Thanks for that, Fenris.

"So, we're going out in that to check on the store pet. Which is a...?"

Fenris stayed under the covers as long as possible before he, too, began to armor up.

Look, it wasn't his fault you hadn't gone to the clothing store like he'd nagged you to. His conscience was clear. Even if the scarf was ridiculous.

"An annoying pest of a being," Fenris grouched, "that used to be a plant."

Evasive? Oh yeah, just a little. He was worried the mention of the word would start Fjord sneezing.

Fjord was giving Fenris such a side-eye at that.

"Used to be a plant?"

The hell?

Fenris lifted a hand and waved it around in a circle, scowling. "This island," he said, exasperated. "The willow catkins ..hatched.. one day and one of them decided to stay small and fuzzy and mobile. Peter keeps it as a pet. His name is Tickles."

A moment later, he announced, "I don't like it. It's a pest."

Which was why he was dragging his roommate through the blizzard to go check on it.

Even Fjord's wisdom of eight could see through that one, Fenris.

"Don't like it, huh? Then aren't you better off if you just leave it?"

It should be noted that he was still pulling his armor on, yes. He tightened his belt with a sort of resigned finality as he looked out the window. And he sighed. All this for an animal. Plant. Alright, then.

Fenris threw him such a look. "Leave a pet animal alone in this cold? I'm not cruel, Fjord."

A beat.

"Well. Ok. Yes. I can be, but it's a pet, not a blood mage."

Yeah, that was about what he'd figured.

"Okay," he replied. "Then I guess we're going for a walk."

In that.

Dammit, elf.

Fenris put his boots on and stamped on the floor to settle them. He hated the feel of them on his feet but he also wasn't stupid. He'd like to keep his feet.

His sword was strapped on and hitched to a comfortable position once his coat and scarf were on. A hat was plopped on his head and pulled down to cover the sensitive tips of his ears.

"An adventure," Fenris corrected, "We're going on an adventure."

Those never ended well.

He held the door and made an elegant leg, flourishing a hand for Fjord to precede him out.

And so Fjord did, smirking and rolling his eyes as he did so.

"Okay," he replied. "Off to rescue this animal you hate so much."

Through the snow.

Where monsters lived.

Clearly, Tickles had to die.

"Didn't say I hated it," Fenris corrected, following and closing the door behind him. "Said it was a pest. You'll see when you meet him. He'll probably climb you like a tree."

Fenris was ignorant that the only person Tickles climbed like that was him.

"I brought a flask." It was worth mentioning.

It was also morning. That had never stopped them before.

"You know drinking actually makes you colder faster, right?"

Fjord had to check, yes. Make sure Fenris was good and aware.

"Yes," Fenris said, "That's why I only brought a flask and not an entire bottle."

Fenris: Master of bad ideas.

"It's for emergencies."

In case they were stuck somewhere and suddenly found themselves too sober.

"What kind of emergency...."

Someday, Fjord would meet Nott the Brave and he would understand.

"You know, nevermind," he shook his head as he stepped out into the snow. "Let's go get your plant. Animal. Pet."

Fenris continued walking but answered the half-question in a calm and inquiring tone.

"Do lumbering snowmen with ice fangs count as an emergency? Or just fun?"

He nodded at the road ahead of them.

The snowmen had signs. Fenris couldn't read them. He was more concerned with the fangs.

Fjord stood there in silence for a long few seconds.

And then, with all the eloquence he'd ever learned over the years, he asked, "What the fuck?"

"I don't think they're fucking," Fenris mused, squinting at them a bit.

Then he eyed the snow ..everywhere.. including still falling from the sky.

And then he made a face. Well, that was a hell of a thought.

"Nevermind. What do the signs say? 'We come in peace'? 'We're out for a walk'? 'Happy stupid winter holiday'?"

He had doubts.

Fjord cast a sideways look at Fenris. And then looked at the signs.

Squinted.

"... Er. 'Yo mama's so hot, she's about to experience desertification and rising sea levels.'" A pause. "I don't get it."

Fenris accurately copied Fjord's earlier eloquent tone, "What the fuck?!"

He scowled, "Is that even language? I don't think that's language, Fjord. It doesn't make any damn sense!"

That last may have been yelled at the snowmen.

The snowmen who were turning to face them, and then baring those vicious icicle teeth of theirs? Those snowmen?

Fjord... just facepalmed.

And then he summoned his sword.

Yes, those snowmen. The ones with the signs that were random word vomit.

Fenris pulled his blade and let it make that ominous metal-on-leather stropping noise as it left the sheath.

"It's in your best interest to get out of our way," he informed the snowmen, more or less politely.

Well, now they were charging.

"I warned them," he pointed out, in case Fjord was keeping track or something.

"That you did," Fjord drawled in reply. "They really should know better."

Hello, snowmen. That was a green pulse of dark energy coming your way from Fjord's hand. Have a little Eldrtich Blast for breakfast, would you?

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