11th--[Action] ...not-so tiny today! [Event]

[then_there_were_none]

[Outside 1766 Beaver Street]

["Seras" has gotten up rather late today. Partially because someone else usually swings by to pick her up for school earlier in the day, and mostly because "Seras" wasn't Seras at all. She was Flandre, and had centuries of the sleeping habits of being a nocturnal creature.

After wandering around the house, staring at herself in the mirror and then pointedly avoiding all reflective surfaces and wondering why everything was so small, she has gone outside to the lawn and...flops over onto her back in the grass.]

...I forgot what it's like without any wings at all.

[She has a rather un-Seras-like French accent.]

This is annoying.

[And just like all those years and years had wound back and she was human again. The world seemed quieter, the clouds less distinct--and when she held her hand up, there were no claws on her fingers like there should have been.

Noticeably absent is the collective panic attack much of Mayfield seems to be suffering lately. But, after all--Flandre believed this all was just one long, strange dream. What was one more odd thing to dream about?]

Comments

[then_there_were_none]

A little bit, Meiling.

[Or a lot of a little bit. Though at the moment, Flandre as occupied by peering over the side at the ground going by below.

...it didn't look so different, from high up. Everything seemed to have gotten equally smaller, now. Maybe things were still blurry, the way things in the distance got eventually, but...

...no, it wasn't so bad. Meiling was here. A big, strong presence that made her feel all warm and safe.

Flandre giggled again, but more softly this time; she stopped looking around at the scenery and instead nestled back into her guardian's arms.]

[not_so_great_wall]

[ It really didn't make much of a difference to her at all, what form Flandre was in. Things could have been worse — the thought of what happened to her the last time bodies were altered is one that always disgusts her, so much so that she cursed the fate that landed her with such bad blood loss and disorientation that she was unable to do anything. By all rights, she was so mad that she could have torn the entire town apart in a beautiful barrage of bullets, until no brick was left standing, and whomever was responsible had shown themselves in person...

But even the thought of that had shot up her blood pressure and tension so high that her wounds opened and she just passed out.

Today, she doesn't quite have that problem. So long as she can keep Flandre safe and close, she would be fine, and then they would all go back to normal in a short time. That is what she has convinced herself of. No matter how terrible things were in Mayfield, they seemed to be temporary, and thus the "wait and see" mentality for these kinds of consequences was the best course of action. It didn't always sit right with her, but there was nothing to be done about it. ]

[ But now is not the time to think about that. Now is the time to land in the back yard and gently set Flandre down, before heading inside into the kitchen. ] Are you in the mood for anything?