Trouble with Tribbles?

[Hank Thompson]

Hank Thompson was... not having the best of days. No work for him at the temp agency which... was good because no work. Bad because no work meant no money.

And the worst part of his day so far...

Was that he was currently stuck as a chinchilla.

He wasn't even entirely sure how it had happened, just that all of a sudden his DVD collection was out of his reach.

A long way out of his reach.

...Drat.

Well, there were a few upsides. He was in the apartment complex, where nothing was likely to eat him... (Well, except for the crocodile. Or the hawk. So. ...Scrap the whole 'safe' thing) and he had a nice big blanket to burrow in and access to a bowl of sunflower seeds.

...Now he just had to make sure he didn't die before his roommate came home... Or before he could figure out how to coax his body back into human shape...

[Elinore Lewis]

Said roommate was actually just making her way to their front door, happy to have got through another day at work without suddenly shifting into the rabbit of fluffy doom. Elinore hauled a bag of groceries along in one hand and jingled her keys in the other. There was a brand new little keychain attached to them.

It came with bells. Fear the bells. For they were jangly and painted with tiny little pink polka dots.

The key clicked with a familiar sound in the door and she pushed it open. It creaked a little, could probably do with a little oil. "Hank?" she called out, kicking the door shut behind her. "Are you in? I bought groceries. I could use some help putting them away."

Somehow, she always ended up buying more than she had originally intended to. She just liked cooking. And baking. And attempting (though she seemed to be failing spectacularly here) to fatten up far too skinny roommates.

"Hank?" she called. She could smell that he was there. No doubt about that. She'd learned to trust her sense of smell. "Hank, did you chinchilla-out again or are you gaming?" Life certainly had become more interesting post-Versi.

[Hank Thompson]

Blinking at the sudden sound of bells, Hank turned, and let out a happy little sound as the door opened to reveal his roommate. As quickly as he could, he toddled his way forward, raising up on his back legs and urgently waving his paws.

'Down here Elinore! Down here! I'd greatly appreciate being picked up. ...And possibly some raisins. ...And would you get out Iron Man 2 for me?'

Just because no one could understand him didn't mean he didn't talk... Oddly enough, he was much better at it when he knew no one had any idea of what was coming out of his mouth...

'Um, would you mind giving me a ride? My paws are tired...'

[Elinore Lewis]

Ah, there was the oh-so-familiar sight of one fluffy chinchilla, not that she could complain about fluff. She still out-fluffed the best of them in her rabbit form. Elinore put her grocery bag down and, in one move, picked her chinchilla roommate up. "Well, hello there. I figure that this is another case of 'poof-chilla'?" Which was just Elinore's way oif saying 'and suddenly there was a chinchilla where my roommate used to be'.

Could be worse.

He could have a shark as his shifter form. Or a whale.

Though imagining 'so skinny that he makes a stick look buxom' Hank as a whale took more creativity than Elinore had.

"I think," she said, "that you'd like some raisins, am I right?" She was guessing that she was. Right, that is, and thus made a bee-line for the cabinet with the raisins. Perhaps they should arrange for little pet dishes in case of accidental shifting.

Could be useful.

"Okay. Here we go. Raisins for Mister Hank." She fished a small handful out with her free hand and offered them to her far-too-adorable roommate.

[Hank Thompson]

Oh, Hank did so love Elinore. She was the best roommate he could have ever dreamed of. They shared cooking and cleaning and she didn't mind his gaming or his comics or his action figures or his collectibles or his cosplay projects or the fact that with semi-regularity there was a pile of clothing with a chinchilla sitting in the middle of them.

He nodded as she picked him up, balancing carefully to reach up and give her an affectionate little pat with his paw.

'Awww, you're the best Elinore. And... yeah. 'Poof-chilla'. ...wish I turned into something cooler. I mean, I can't object, because a chinchilla isn't as bad as it could be... but... maybe I could be... bigger? More intimidating? ...Not the size of a baseball?'

And she knew exactly what he liked. More proof she was perfect. Not much made sudden chinchilla syndrome better then nibbling on some lovely raisins...

He carefully leaned over and selected one, picking it up with his paws and holding it close as he ate it. And then remembering his manners...

'Oh, I quite forgot! Here you go Elinore!'

He picked another one up and then leaned up to offer it to her. The idea that she could just... eat them herself was present but... well... wasn't it much nicer to be offered one?

[Elinore Lewis]

Elinore always, no matter how often she saw it, melted a little when Hank, in all his fluffy chinchilla glory, munched away on a raisin. This just looked so big in his teeny little hands and he looked so happy with them. And, of course, there was the part where he offered to share a raisin that just made her heart do one of those little squeaks as if it were a rubber ducky.

Metaphorically, of course. It would be all kinds of terrible and awful and bad if her heart made an actual squeaky sound, as far as her non-doctor self can tell.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she said and accepted the raisin carefully, not wanting to accidentally hurt her roommate. She'd lucked out with Hank.

"And if memory serves, after raisins comes one of those super hero movies you like so much, right?" There were rituals, things that always happened. And Elinore kind of liked the super hero films too, though she still preferred historical ones over the Marvel and DC or whatever they were called. The explosions were kinda fun, and she liked the dialogue at times, witty banter and stuff like that. "So, which one do you want to see?"

[Hank Thompson]

Beaming as best he could in this form, Hank did his best to bob a little bow. And nearly fell over. ...But he was pretty used to that to be honest.

The bespectacled man's coordination wasn't very good in the best of times and the addition of two extra legs and a tail didn't always help matters.

But Elinore had always been very understanding and helpful.

There was a reason she was one of his favorite people in the whole entire world.

'Of course my lady! Delighted to share my bounty! Do you want another? I can give you another. You gave me lots and I don't want to be greedy...'

In regaining his footing, Hank had an absent thought. At least his shifted form didn't seem to have bad eyesight.

Nodding eagerly and delighted that she remembered how he liked to spend his time, he grabbed another raisin and then gestured with a paw to his collection of DVDs.

Usually he just let her lift him past each one, until he patted the movie he wanted with a small paw. But he sort of wanted her to be able to pick a movie too...

He wish someone had figured out a way to translate 'Chinchilla' into 'Human'.

In the meantime...

'I'd like to watch Iron Man, but you can pick something if you like? I have a bunch of Gene Wilder movies and a bunch of classic movies and stuff and some TV shows and the complete run of alll the Star Trek series...'

[Elinore Lewis]

Elinore laughed, not maliciously so but rather because Hank as a clumsy little chinchilla was just the most awww-inducing little creature ever. That could possibly be one of the reasons why Hank had exclusive perching rights on her cleavage when he was a chinchilla. She didn't see anything wrong with that. It was cute and easier to carry him around when she had her hands full.

"On to the movies then, m'lord?" she asked, already moving towards the book case turned DVD-case. Since she didn't speak Chinchilla as a human, or as a rabbit, she just assumed it would be like usual and she very carefully raised Hank up so that he could pat whatever movie struck his fancy. So up to the shelf with super hero films he went.

"We watched the one with the big red robot last time, right?" Personally, she'd been more invested in the redhead. Not entirely to Elinore's personal taste, but she could appreciate a good looking woman when she saw one. "There was another movies after that with the same people, I think. We could watch that one." All right, so she knew that the red robot wasn't a robot but a suit of armour, but she sometimes liked to tease Hank a little by completely mangling the super heroes.

Mean Elinore, teasing fluffy chinchillas like that.

[Hank Thompson]

Oh, he did like it when Elinore laughed. He liked making people laugh. If they were laughing, they were happy and there wasn't much better then making people happy.

Hmmmm... Now to the hard part... Iron Man was tempting, but there was always Blazing Saddles... Hmmm... nothing at all scary, not that he liked scary movies himself...

He let out a funny little noise, turning to wave a tiny paw at her, in as scolding a fashion as a fluffy chinchilla could manage.

'Elinore! That's Iron Man, he's not a robot! He's a suit of armor really, made and piloted by Tony Stark! I could have sworn we watched it often enough that you'd know that by now... Should I lend you my comics again? Because I have several collections I can lend you...'

Exuberant cheebling done, he tapped her finger to move over, examining the titles before pushing down on her finger to get her to go down a shelf.

Ah ha! Blazing Saddles it was. It should make both of them giggle.

Toddling to the edge of her hand, he patted the case with his paws, turning to nod at her, to confirm it.

"Can we have some more to eat? Oh, and pillows... can we make a pillow fort? I like pillow forts..."

[Elinore Lewis]

She knew what the scolding was about. It was kind of hard not to draw that conclusion between what she knew about Hank and previous responses to her mistaking Iron Man for a 'big shiny robot'. Or Thor for one of those WWE wrestler type guys.

She really shouldn't tease her favourite little ball of fluff that much. It was so much fun, though.

"Blazing Saddles? Okay then. We've got that and now... snack time. I'm thinking popcorn? Perhaps? You know, I got this recipe the other day for pad thai flavoured popcorn, but I really don't think that that would do your chinny digestive tract any good. We'll save that for later." Food was a given, but she didn't quite clue in to the pillow fort. She rather liked pillow forts, but she didn't figure it out from the chirping and the other little noises her friend and roommate made.

With the DVD in one hand and Hank in the other, though he was welcome to migrate to other places if he so wished.

She put the DVD down on the counter and fished out a pot. Elinore didn't do microwave popcorn. That was a crime against popcorn. She made it in a pot on the stove with catapulting little kernels playing drums against the lid.