The only problem he could see was this had been a matter of both participating; he tips his head toward Blue, regarding the bartender in the meantime. Two cups, and someone has to drink them? I wonder if...
"Yes," he says, both accepting Blue (a stranger, who can read minds, this is probably closer to nightmare fuel than he wants to think about, but also so far no one's tried killing him or seducing him so it's a pretty great day, night, whatever it was) and the drinks, his fan tucked into his waistband.
Both drinks, held up and downed with all the understated flair of a man who mostly drank tea, and drank it slowly, so yes, he almost coughs downing the two glasses one after another. He barely manages to not cough, inwardly laments there was nothing cool about that other than the fact he doesn't furrow his brow, and licks his lips absently, chasing the strange, not unpleasant flavour.
Couldn't be so bad, he felt nothing different immediately after. Until he has a sort of numb compulsion to sit down, followed by the realisation of why: where he's had two wonderfully normal legs a moment prior, now he has a horribly stereotypical tail.
A mer-tail.
A koi mer-tail, which means he's a carp, and he's also sitting on the ground with what should be his knees tucked up before him, what should be his feet a spread of fins on the floor. They're the only visible part, since with the make of his robes, his feet are all that are showing.
Are you kidding me! What's the point of something that can give you mer-parts?! What if I'd been half octopus! If this is a dance club, shouldn't these body alterations be ones for dancing, not to keep you from it?! Writers! Whoever is in charge of this, he has a complaint! At least three!
"... It would appear," he says, blandly, "That while I may be seeing this through, the perspective is a bit... lower. Than expected."
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"Yes," he says, both accepting Blue (a stranger, who can read minds, this is probably closer to nightmare fuel than he wants to think about, but also so far no one's tried killing him or seducing him so it's a pretty great day, night, whatever it was) and the drinks, his fan tucked into his waistband.
Both drinks, held up and downed with all the understated flair of a man who mostly drank tea, and drank it slowly, so yes, he almost coughs downing the two glasses one after another. He barely manages to not cough, inwardly laments there was nothing cool about that other than the fact he doesn't furrow his brow, and licks his lips absently, chasing the strange, not unpleasant flavour.
Couldn't be so bad, he felt nothing different immediately after. Until he has a sort of numb compulsion to sit down, followed by the realisation of why: where he's had two wonderfully normal legs a moment prior, now he has a horribly stereotypical tail.
A mer-tail.
A koi mer-tail, which means he's a carp, and he's also sitting on the ground with what should be his knees tucked up before him, what should be his feet a spread of fins on the floor. They're the only visible part, since with the make of his robes, his feet are all that are showing.
Are you kidding me! What's the point of something that can give you mer-parts?! What if I'd been half octopus! If this is a dance club, shouldn't these body alterations be ones for dancing, not to keep you from it?! Writers! Whoever is in charge of this, he has a complaint! At least three!
"... It would appear," he says, blandly, "That while I may be seeing this through, the perspective is a bit... lower. Than expected."
I am not freaking crawling around here!