Encounterlogs
Aris Odd Encounter Sr Korina 240918
Ari, still groggy and disoriented, wakes up in an unremarkable, minimalist bedroom, unfamiliar and alone save for the remnants of her last escapade - bloodstained and armed. In her search for clarity and relief from the discomfort of her sudden awakening, she discovers a note left by an unknown benefactor, offering aid in the form of water and an unmarked pill, presumed to alleviate her pain. Despite her suspicions and innate cynicism towards the overly cutesy handwriting of the note, Ari indulges in the offered reprieve, setting the stage for an unexpected turn of events. What was intended as solace quickly morphs into a chaotic unraveling, as unexplained intense itching takes hold of her entire body, signaling the beginning of an extraordinary transformation she could never have anticipated.
In the aftermath of consuming the mysterious pill, Ari finds herself succumbing to a bizarre and unforeseen metamorphosis: she becomes a miniature poodle. Her unexpected transformation bewilders her, sparking a desperate quest for escape from the confinement of the strange home and its inhabitants - a well-meaning, albeit naive, woman and her son, who mistake Ari for a birthday gift. With newfound agility and determination, Ari navigates the perils of her peculiar predicament, executing a daring escape that leads her through the household and ultimately to the freedom of the surrounding woods. Despite the physical and emotional turmoil of her ordeal - a profound lesson in humility and resilience - Ari is eventually returned to her original form, albeit with a newfound perspective on trust, hospitality, and the unpredictable nature of kindness from strangers. Escaping the clutches of an unsuspecting family and the confines of an unwanted identity, she leaves behind a trail of bemusement and lessons learned, both for herself and those whose lives she inadvertently touched.
(Ari's odd encounter(SRKorina):SRKorina)
[Tue Sep 17 2024]
In the master bedroom
This room most certainly belongs to a minimalist. There's no lamps,
rather a lightbulb hangs unshaded from the ceiling. The bed has a single
pillow and a single comforter on top of it, and more often then not is
crisply made while a plain wooden dresser sits opposite the bed. There's
nothing more and nothing less in this room, except for two small windows on
either side of the room.
It is afternoon, about 64F(17C) degrees,
(Your target has been hexed and transformed into an animal against their will. Unable to turn back they need to try to find allies who can understand their problem and find a way to undo the curse.
)
Sprawled across a bed that most certainly isn't hers, in a room of a house that likewise is not hers is Ari. Just groggily waking up, still covered in blood from something or someone, she apparently threw herself on this bed and passed out, a bow still in hand. Beauty sleep didn't do her any favors, let's be honest. There's a groan that comes from the rumpled sheets as she shifts and cracks a blue-gray disgrunted gaze to look about.
It's a sad, sad bedroom that Ari's woken up in this afternoon, which probably doesn't help her waking mood any; having fallen asleep in armor certainly doesn't make for restful sleep, and it's really only sheer luck that's kept her from having her belongings /not/ be stolen - or worse, having someone call the cops on her while she was asleep. That can only mean good things, right?
Right.
She might still be in pain from the incidents of the night prior, and it's hot enough in here that there's a headache throbbing at her temples when Ari groggily finds her way back to wakefulness. There's no air conditioning on to speak of; in fact there's not a lot of /anything/ to speak of, which makes the tray upon the bedside table just that much more obvious: there's a jug of water, a glass, and a pill alongside it - is that Tylenol? It might be. It's brandless and unmarked, but there's a note right next to all of that that reads out: You looked tired so I let you crash. There's something to help with the pain. I'll be over with lunch in the afternoon after picking up my son from school :). Smiley face and all. It's a feminine writing, with loopy cursives and a heart dotting the 'i'.
Of course, there's nothing stopping Ari from just getting up and leaving, but that would be letting her host(s?) down.
It really *is* a sad bedroom, but at least there's really nowhere to hide in it and that's something to be grateful for at least. Finally lurching up to a sitting position, Ari runs a hand through the wild tangles of her hair and pulls a hairtie from around her wrist to tie it back up in its usual messy knot. It's when she's shoving her bow back into her duffel that she sees that weird breakfast tray. Narrowing her eyes at the note, she reads it silently and mutters, "Who the fuck makes hearts with their i's after middle school?," sounding like the utter ingrate that she is.
Still, her head IS throbbing and the water looks delightful.
No good story started with 'And there I was, eating a salad,' however, so there's a half-shrug and she reaches out, pouring herself a glass. Picking up the pill, she looks it over, then releases a sigh. "I swear to fucking god, if this thing shrinks me like Alice in Wonderland, I'm gonna be so pissed." Honestly, tho, if it was left by some housewife who took her son to school, there's a strong likelihood that it really is a Tylenol with the brand mark scuffed off by being in a baggy in her purse for too long. She even left only ONE like the fucking bottle says, instead of how normal people take them: in fistfuls. Down the hatch!
Someone should probably let Ari know beggars can't be choosers. If cold slobbery chicken nuggets are what she has to put up with today, surely it's not a difficult price to pay in return for lodging. The afternoon is pretty quiet other than a chirping of birds and the occasional nature-y outdoorsy sound, and the curtains are drawn over the windows - did Mysterious Housewife do that to let Ari get her rest? That's so sweet.
There's the door to presumably what might be the living room nearby, securely shut - no attached bathroom here - and no other sound in the house to be heard for now. And... perhaps owing to her not-so-comfortable rest, Ari's suddenly feeling itchy. Very itchy. It's all over her body, as though there's ants crawling across her skin - did they have bed bugs or something? Her scalp is itchy, her palms beg to be scratched, and that spot upon her back that she /can not/ reach with her fingers might just need a backscratcher. Or require Ari to just roll around on the ground to scratch it, or something. That would be undignified, though. Surely she wouldn't.
The sound of an engine running is suddenly all too loud in the relative silence, and pretty soon she can hear the sound of footsteps, two sets of them moving for the door outside. Was her hearing always this good? Maybe it's just all the itchiness putting her senses into overdrive.
The front door creaks open like the hinges haven't been oiled in forever. Maybe they haven't. There's the sound of a child chattering excitedly, and water running, for a brief moment, like someone's grabbing a glass of water. A conversation is had, too much for Ari to focus upon in her itchy state, and-- everywhere she scratches, it looks like it's swelling up, as though she's shrinking and puffing up at the same time. She probably wouldn't wish this upon her worst enemy - or maybe she would, and she should really look up what was in that pill so she can sneak some of it to her nemesis - and by the time the door opens to the sight of a bright-eyed child, it's to a pile of ill-fitting clothes on the bed, and...
A gasp.
"Mommy, you got me a miniature poodle for my birthday! Just like I asked!"
Is that...
Yes, that's Ari, being looked at as though the sun shines out of her furry ass.
At least the itching's stopped?
It's true that cold and slobbery chicken nuggets are better than what Ari has to put up with *most* days, really. Draining the last of the cup of water after taking that pill, she rubs a weary palm over her face. Expression icking a bit as she finds flecks of dried blood, she scratches at them with a nail. She's decided that Mysterious Housewife must be the worst kind of trusting there is, and that she should tell her to be more aware, really. Good People aren't usually the type to break into your home covered in blood and not wish you harm. Jesus, she even drew the curtains so she could sleep better? Fuck, this lady really needed to be read the riot act, and -
What the fuck? She was scratching idly at her arm until she realized with a start that the feeling was intensifying, and not just there, but EVERYWHERE. "Fucking, fuck," she curses, starting to stand up so she can reach more spots. Both arms, the back of her neck, her scalp. Is she having some kind of allergic reaction to something in that pill? Was it so far past its expiration date that it was about to make the zombie apocalypse a real thing starting with Ari as Patient Zero?
Hearing the sound of that engine, she beelines to the window and casts a panicked glance out. Her breathing coming harder, she heads for the door to the bedroom, ready to call out for help. She can't even stop itching long enough to grab the goddamned doorknob now and wobble-falls onto the bed, still frantically scratching at her own skin, just in time for that slobbery germ-filled *child* to step into the room.
One that's way bigger than her. "HELP ME!," she tries to scream at the kid, but it unfortunately comes out as a sharp bark and a rather cute wiggle of agitation. If she could see it, she would absolutely despise it.
The child gasps out loud as though Ari's just said - yipped? - something utterly and entirely adorable and gasp-worthy, and steps in further to make his way over to the bed and wrap his arms around Ari's form. He squeezes, and there's a high-pitched squeal in Ari's ears. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you, I love him!" Squeeze, squeeze. To be fair, he looks younger than ten; it wouldn't be /that/ hard to just... squirm free, right? As soon as Ari has control of all four limbs, of course.
There's a chuckle from behind the child, and Mysterious Housewife comes into view now; they're both brown-haired and brown-eyed, though the woman has a streak of gray through her hair and circles under her eyes that speak to many sleepless nights. Considering the shabby state of the bedroom, maybe they're not doing /too/ well?
"I think that's a 'her', Joseph. Be nice to her, okay?" she moves over to stuff Ari's clothes beneath the bed; out of sight and out of mind. "I had to pull some strings to get her here. Miniature poodles don't come cheap."
And then, of course, the all-important question: "What will you name her?"
If miniature poodle faces can be expressive enough to show absolute horror, hers does: her snout wrinkles into a snarl as the little Germ Factory scoops Ari up. She tries to back away, but she's not exactly used to these limbs and just tangles herself up in that dishwater gray tank top, probably tearing new holes in it with her sharp little claws. Gasping in a breath through the squeezing, she's overwhelmed with the SMELLS of the kid. There's so MANY. Dirt, sweat, shampoo, laundry soap, boogers. Wait, boogers have a smell? That's fucking gross. She explosively SNEEZES on the kid, then shakes her head hard, feeling her ears *FLOP?* as she does so. Trying to groan out her disbelief, it instead causes a whine to come from her throat.
This absolutely CANNOT be happening. She has better things to do than be a goddamned poodle. This stupid kid will probably try to dress her up in tiny clothes and carry her around like an accessory, which means OTHER smelly children will try to touch her with their booger hands. This line of thought causes her to struggle harder and harder, trying to get free from the kid's grasp. LET. ME. GO. She thinks it viciously and the words translate into a fierce little puppy growl.
Yes, boogers have a smell. So does whatever playground dirt this boy's been playing in, and there's even the faint smell of chicken from his breath. Maybe the stale chicken nuggets are all gone. That would be a real shame now, wouldn't it?
"Oh, she's a girl!" comes the exclamation from the boy, who seems deep in thought for a second or two, "I'll name her Princess!"
That's about the same time that Princess decides to wigglewigglewiggleBORK her way to freedom - the growl surprises the boy enough that he loosens his grip around her, and fwump, she goes down to the mattress, bounces right off, and fwomp, there's the ground. Sadly, she's not a cat, so she does not land on all fours - Ari just goes down with a pitiful little thud. There's a gasp from above. Hands reach out again - this may just be the most important moment of the day- nay, of Ari's whole life, trying to dodge grubby kid fingers.
Hey, look, the door to the living room is still open. Does she trust her newfound quadrupedalness enough?
PRINCESS?! Will the horrors of this day just never end? It would be laughable really, if the kid had seen Ari in human form. She's about as far away from looking like a princess as a used-up meth addict living under a bridge would be. Apparently she's much cuter in poodle form, but that doesn't really lift her mood all that much. She's just about to go for a nip at the kid, which honestly would be pretty gross to have to put her mouth on this creature, but it's just about that time that -
OOF.
Limbs akimbo, she lands on the mattress and scrabbles around for purchase, claws digging into the sheets that are WAY slippery in this form and just SMACKS onto the floor. Whining out her displeasure, she gets to a hands-and-knees (no, all four FEET) stand and looks up at the kid trying to grab for her. Woozy from the weird way her eyes and head move now, she clumsily tries to sidestep those dirty fingernails and tries to dart for her necklace just visible under the mattress where Mysterious Housewife tried to erase her human existence from view. What a bitch, man. Just call the cops next time. She'd rather have been arrested than deal with this bullshit. She should have known when she saw the stupidass heart in the i. Jesus.
Launching herself towards the open door, she makes a run for it.
Apparently Ari isn't into the Princess life. She could have anything her heart desired, really: scraps from the table! Walks in the park! Getting to sniff other dog butts! All she has to do is /stay/ and be the best poodle that ever pood.
So, of course, she does just the opposite. Her nails click-clack against the floor like she's some sort of primadonna walking in heels as she makes a break for it, and there's a flurry of motion behind her, a surprised yell of, "Princess, no! Come back!"
Mysterious Housewife lets out a startled noise too, not looking like she'd expected Ari to just go for the necklace - which she does manage to grab. "Grab her!" she calls out, both mother and child making a run for Ari.
The living room outside is /almost/ as sad as the bedroom. There's a few more signs of someone living here, with the child's school bag thrown over a bare, raggedy couch and the TV looking like it's about twenty-five years out of fashion. The curtains are an ugly salmon shade - or maybe that's just a white that's gone so off that it can't be said to be white in good conscience anymore - and while the front door leading to sweet, sweet freedom outside is closed, someone's left the window open for fresh air. All it will take is a bit of climbing - from the sofa to the TV to the shelf over there and a bit of doggy parkour is all it will take for Ari to taste sweet, joyous freedom, even if she gets to taste no chicken nuggets.
It'd be pretty clear to anyone who'd ever met Ari in human form that her scrubby sailor-mouth ass isn't at all aligned to the Princess life. More like something one would expect to hear and see in a female prison: one of those with rubbery chicken nuggets and paint-peeled cinderblocks. And probably guards just like Mysterious Housewife whom she *just* manages to dart past and get that necklace in her teeth. The links are cold and taste of metal against her enhanced tongue and she also manages to elude Germ Factory. Thank the GODS that something is going right here. No, scratch that. Gods suck too, she wouldn't thank them. Maybe they even have something to do with this, the bastards.
Aha, the living room! Taking a brief moment to survey the situation, she tries not to tangle her feet in the delicate gold chain she's dragging along, but it might be the only way to get someone to realize that she's been transformed. She might have to rely on some nasty supernatural to...what? Do some kind of spell on the necklace, or worse, her? Well, yeah probably. Maybe it'll just wear off?
Shaking herself, she realizes she's standing there too long and scrabbles madly up the couch to the arm. Crouching, she makes an exploratory hop to see how these muscles work. DAMN they're a lot more powerful than human ones, even though she's tiny. She *throws* herself to the television and almost overshoots it, falling off. Just two more jumps, one to the shelf, one to the window. Freedom is SO CLOSE. She can smell FLOWERS now. Gathering up all her determination, she ignores the cries of "Princess, Princess!," and just -
LEAPS.
She /can/ smell the flowers, actually. They make Ari's little nose twitch, and they make her want to sneeze. That would be disastrous, considering the noise would just give her away immediately to her pursuers - and make no doubt, they are in hot pursuit of her. There's some scrabbling, some scruffing, some skidding of feet against wooden floor, and then the boy's there, trying to reach out for her while Ari makes the biggest leap of faith, from shelf to open window. It's like in slow-motion, the cry of, "Princess, nooooooooooo-"
Smack, goes Ari's head against the windowsill, and then she's sliding off and falling right out and onto--... cabbages? Yes. Cabbages. She's in a back garden, and life has given her cabbages. And when life gives you cabbages, you make coleslaw. Her canine tongue rebels at the thought.
With her ears flopping and her tail undoubtedly wagging out the joys of her new-found freedom, Ari can tell with a glance around that she's upon a property not too far from town - there's a road leading into town nearby which she can probably follow if she wants to find help from someone who doesn't dot their i's with hearts, and there's the trees of the forest too that look nice to get lost in for a few hours while she waits to see if the pill will wear off eventually. Whatever she wants to do, she'd better get to it fast before the boy runs out the front door and catches her and never lets her go again. She can hear footsteps already.
Oh, Ari isn't getting Rick-rolled by a goddamned boogery child. NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UPPPPP. It would be gracious to say that the head-smack against the windowsill taught her a lesson, maybe slapped some sense into her, but further time in Haven will tell whether or not *that* is true. NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWWWWN. Well, someone did, cause now she's rolling around in a damn cabbage patch. It's almost enough to make her feel sorry for the duo in hot pursuit. Thinking of them eating stewed cabbage all the time makes even her puppy belly turn over with a nasty little blech.
As she regains what sense she DOES have, she shakes the dirt free from her coat in a showering cloud, looking both ways. Fearful that some idiot will grab her up and take her to the pound, or worse decide like THAT pair to make her some kind of *pet*, she streaks towards the woods. Hopefully this shit will just wear off.
NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU.
Oh, she's definitely gonna do that one.
From the safety of the woods, Ari's improved hearing can pick up the sounds of crying, inconsolable child and frantic mother/Mysterious Housewife both trying to call out for "Princess! Princess! Come back!". The boy sobs out something about it being his /birthday/ and how his new best friend is going to get eaten by an eagle in the woods - are there eagles around here? Ari should keep an eye out.
Anyway - the point is: he's now going to have the worst birthday of all time. Maybe Ari's just teaching him a valuable life lesson about disappointment and what happens if you name your pets things like 'Princess'. He will never forget it.
The forest is thankfully quiet, other than the occasional sniffle and the "boo hoo"s drifting over from the cottage. It's quiet enough for Ari to just hide in the bushes and take a nap or something, in fact, and it's about the three-hour mark, when the sun is just starting to dip below the horizon, that she feels that familiar itching. Oh no.
It's not as awful this time - maybe her body's just gotten used to it, horrifying as the thought is, or maybe it just comes with being a little dog. The perks they don't want you to know about. Either way, Ari soon finds herself naked, in a bush, apart from the necklace she'd managed to grab. It's going to be a strange walk back to town.
If she happens to pass by the cottage on her way back, she'll find her clothes in a pile set out to be burnt later - they smell like ashes, but hey, they're /hers/. Small mercies.
Little Joe's still crying inside. Alas and alack. Maybe next year Mysterious Housewife can save up for a real dog.
In the aftermath of consuming the mysterious pill, Ari finds herself succumbing to a bizarre and unforeseen metamorphosis: she becomes a miniature poodle. Her unexpected transformation bewilders her, sparking a desperate quest for escape from the confinement of the strange home and its inhabitants - a well-meaning, albeit naive, woman and her son, who mistake Ari for a birthday gift. With newfound agility and determination, Ari navigates the perils of her peculiar predicament, executing a daring escape that leads her through the household and ultimately to the freedom of the surrounding woods. Despite the physical and emotional turmoil of her ordeal - a profound lesson in humility and resilience - Ari is eventually returned to her original form, albeit with a newfound perspective on trust, hospitality, and the unpredictable nature of kindness from strangers. Escaping the clutches of an unsuspecting family and the confines of an unwanted identity, she leaves behind a trail of bemusement and lessons learned, both for herself and those whose lives she inadvertently touched.
(Ari's odd encounter(SRKorina):SRKorina)
[Tue Sep 17 2024]
In the master bedroom
This room most certainly belongs to a minimalist. There's no lamps,
rather a lightbulb hangs unshaded from the ceiling. The bed has a single
pillow and a single comforter on top of it, and more often then not is
crisply made while a plain wooden dresser sits opposite the bed. There's
nothing more and nothing less in this room, except for two small windows on
either side of the room.
It is afternoon, about 64F(17C) degrees,
(Your target has been hexed and transformed into an animal against their will. Unable to turn back they need to try to find allies who can understand their problem and find a way to undo the curse.
)
Sprawled across a bed that most certainly isn't hers, in a room of a house that likewise is not hers is Ari. Just groggily waking up, still covered in blood from something or someone, she apparently threw herself on this bed and passed out, a bow still in hand. Beauty sleep didn't do her any favors, let's be honest. There's a groan that comes from the rumpled sheets as she shifts and cracks a blue-gray disgrunted gaze to look about.
It's a sad, sad bedroom that Ari's woken up in this afternoon, which probably doesn't help her waking mood any; having fallen asleep in armor certainly doesn't make for restful sleep, and it's really only sheer luck that's kept her from having her belongings /not/ be stolen - or worse, having someone call the cops on her while she was asleep. That can only mean good things, right?
Right.
She might still be in pain from the incidents of the night prior, and it's hot enough in here that there's a headache throbbing at her temples when Ari groggily finds her way back to wakefulness. There's no air conditioning on to speak of; in fact there's not a lot of /anything/ to speak of, which makes the tray upon the bedside table just that much more obvious: there's a jug of water, a glass, and a pill alongside it - is that Tylenol? It might be. It's brandless and unmarked, but there's a note right next to all of that that reads out: You looked tired so I let you crash. There's something to help with the pain. I'll be over with lunch in the afternoon after picking up my son from school :). Smiley face and all. It's a feminine writing, with loopy cursives and a heart dotting the 'i'.
Of course, there's nothing stopping Ari from just getting up and leaving, but that would be letting her host(s?) down.
It really *is* a sad bedroom, but at least there's really nowhere to hide in it and that's something to be grateful for at least. Finally lurching up to a sitting position, Ari runs a hand through the wild tangles of her hair and pulls a hairtie from around her wrist to tie it back up in its usual messy knot. It's when she's shoving her bow back into her duffel that she sees that weird breakfast tray. Narrowing her eyes at the note, she reads it silently and mutters, "Who the fuck makes hearts with their i's after middle school?," sounding like the utter ingrate that she is.
Still, her head IS throbbing and the water looks delightful.
No good story started with 'And there I was, eating a salad,' however, so there's a half-shrug and she reaches out, pouring herself a glass. Picking up the pill, she looks it over, then releases a sigh. "I swear to fucking god, if this thing shrinks me like Alice in Wonderland, I'm gonna be so pissed." Honestly, tho, if it was left by some housewife who took her son to school, there's a strong likelihood that it really is a Tylenol with the brand mark scuffed off by being in a baggy in her purse for too long. She even left only ONE like the fucking bottle says, instead of how normal people take them: in fistfuls. Down the hatch!
Someone should probably let Ari know beggars can't be choosers. If cold slobbery chicken nuggets are what she has to put up with today, surely it's not a difficult price to pay in return for lodging. The afternoon is pretty quiet other than a chirping of birds and the occasional nature-y outdoorsy sound, and the curtains are drawn over the windows - did Mysterious Housewife do that to let Ari get her rest? That's so sweet.
There's the door to presumably what might be the living room nearby, securely shut - no attached bathroom here - and no other sound in the house to be heard for now. And... perhaps owing to her not-so-comfortable rest, Ari's suddenly feeling itchy. Very itchy. It's all over her body, as though there's ants crawling across her skin - did they have bed bugs or something? Her scalp is itchy, her palms beg to be scratched, and that spot upon her back that she /can not/ reach with her fingers might just need a backscratcher. Or require Ari to just roll around on the ground to scratch it, or something. That would be undignified, though. Surely she wouldn't.
The sound of an engine running is suddenly all too loud in the relative silence, and pretty soon she can hear the sound of footsteps, two sets of them moving for the door outside. Was her hearing always this good? Maybe it's just all the itchiness putting her senses into overdrive.
The front door creaks open like the hinges haven't been oiled in forever. Maybe they haven't. There's the sound of a child chattering excitedly, and water running, for a brief moment, like someone's grabbing a glass of water. A conversation is had, too much for Ari to focus upon in her itchy state, and-- everywhere she scratches, it looks like it's swelling up, as though she's shrinking and puffing up at the same time. She probably wouldn't wish this upon her worst enemy - or maybe she would, and she should really look up what was in that pill so she can sneak some of it to her nemesis - and by the time the door opens to the sight of a bright-eyed child, it's to a pile of ill-fitting clothes on the bed, and...
A gasp.
"Mommy, you got me a miniature poodle for my birthday! Just like I asked!"
Is that...
Yes, that's Ari, being looked at as though the sun shines out of her furry ass.
At least the itching's stopped?
It's true that cold and slobbery chicken nuggets are better than what Ari has to put up with *most* days, really. Draining the last of the cup of water after taking that pill, she rubs a weary palm over her face. Expression icking a bit as she finds flecks of dried blood, she scratches at them with a nail. She's decided that Mysterious Housewife must be the worst kind of trusting there is, and that she should tell her to be more aware, really. Good People aren't usually the type to break into your home covered in blood and not wish you harm. Jesus, she even drew the curtains so she could sleep better? Fuck, this lady really needed to be read the riot act, and -
What the fuck? She was scratching idly at her arm until she realized with a start that the feeling was intensifying, and not just there, but EVERYWHERE. "Fucking, fuck," she curses, starting to stand up so she can reach more spots. Both arms, the back of her neck, her scalp. Is she having some kind of allergic reaction to something in that pill? Was it so far past its expiration date that it was about to make the zombie apocalypse a real thing starting with Ari as Patient Zero?
Hearing the sound of that engine, she beelines to the window and casts a panicked glance out. Her breathing coming harder, she heads for the door to the bedroom, ready to call out for help. She can't even stop itching long enough to grab the goddamned doorknob now and wobble-falls onto the bed, still frantically scratching at her own skin, just in time for that slobbery germ-filled *child* to step into the room.
One that's way bigger than her. "HELP ME!," she tries to scream at the kid, but it unfortunately comes out as a sharp bark and a rather cute wiggle of agitation. If she could see it, she would absolutely despise it.
The child gasps out loud as though Ari's just said - yipped? - something utterly and entirely adorable and gasp-worthy, and steps in further to make his way over to the bed and wrap his arms around Ari's form. He squeezes, and there's a high-pitched squeal in Ari's ears. "Oh, thank you thank you thank you, I love him!" Squeeze, squeeze. To be fair, he looks younger than ten; it wouldn't be /that/ hard to just... squirm free, right? As soon as Ari has control of all four limbs, of course.
There's a chuckle from behind the child, and Mysterious Housewife comes into view now; they're both brown-haired and brown-eyed, though the woman has a streak of gray through her hair and circles under her eyes that speak to many sleepless nights. Considering the shabby state of the bedroom, maybe they're not doing /too/ well?
"I think that's a 'her', Joseph. Be nice to her, okay?" she moves over to stuff Ari's clothes beneath the bed; out of sight and out of mind. "I had to pull some strings to get her here. Miniature poodles don't come cheap."
And then, of course, the all-important question: "What will you name her?"
If miniature poodle faces can be expressive enough to show absolute horror, hers does: her snout wrinkles into a snarl as the little Germ Factory scoops Ari up. She tries to back away, but she's not exactly used to these limbs and just tangles herself up in that dishwater gray tank top, probably tearing new holes in it with her sharp little claws. Gasping in a breath through the squeezing, she's overwhelmed with the SMELLS of the kid. There's so MANY. Dirt, sweat, shampoo, laundry soap, boogers. Wait, boogers have a smell? That's fucking gross. She explosively SNEEZES on the kid, then shakes her head hard, feeling her ears *FLOP?* as she does so. Trying to groan out her disbelief, it instead causes a whine to come from her throat.
This absolutely CANNOT be happening. She has better things to do than be a goddamned poodle. This stupid kid will probably try to dress her up in tiny clothes and carry her around like an accessory, which means OTHER smelly children will try to touch her with their booger hands. This line of thought causes her to struggle harder and harder, trying to get free from the kid's grasp. LET. ME. GO. She thinks it viciously and the words translate into a fierce little puppy growl.
Yes, boogers have a smell. So does whatever playground dirt this boy's been playing in, and there's even the faint smell of chicken from his breath. Maybe the stale chicken nuggets are all gone. That would be a real shame now, wouldn't it?
"Oh, she's a girl!" comes the exclamation from the boy, who seems deep in thought for a second or two, "I'll name her Princess!"
That's about the same time that Princess decides to wigglewigglewiggleBORK her way to freedom - the growl surprises the boy enough that he loosens his grip around her, and fwump, she goes down to the mattress, bounces right off, and fwomp, there's the ground. Sadly, she's not a cat, so she does not land on all fours - Ari just goes down with a pitiful little thud. There's a gasp from above. Hands reach out again - this may just be the most important moment of the day- nay, of Ari's whole life, trying to dodge grubby kid fingers.
Hey, look, the door to the living room is still open. Does she trust her newfound quadrupedalness enough?
PRINCESS?! Will the horrors of this day just never end? It would be laughable really, if the kid had seen Ari in human form. She's about as far away from looking like a princess as a used-up meth addict living under a bridge would be. Apparently she's much cuter in poodle form, but that doesn't really lift her mood all that much. She's just about to go for a nip at the kid, which honestly would be pretty gross to have to put her mouth on this creature, but it's just about that time that -
OOF.
Limbs akimbo, she lands on the mattress and scrabbles around for purchase, claws digging into the sheets that are WAY slippery in this form and just SMACKS onto the floor. Whining out her displeasure, she gets to a hands-and-knees (no, all four FEET) stand and looks up at the kid trying to grab for her. Woozy from the weird way her eyes and head move now, she clumsily tries to sidestep those dirty fingernails and tries to dart for her necklace just visible under the mattress where Mysterious Housewife tried to erase her human existence from view. What a bitch, man. Just call the cops next time. She'd rather have been arrested than deal with this bullshit. She should have known when she saw the stupidass heart in the i. Jesus.
Launching herself towards the open door, she makes a run for it.
Apparently Ari isn't into the Princess life. She could have anything her heart desired, really: scraps from the table! Walks in the park! Getting to sniff other dog butts! All she has to do is /stay/ and be the best poodle that ever pood.
So, of course, she does just the opposite. Her nails click-clack against the floor like she's some sort of primadonna walking in heels as she makes a break for it, and there's a flurry of motion behind her, a surprised yell of, "Princess, no! Come back!"
Mysterious Housewife lets out a startled noise too, not looking like she'd expected Ari to just go for the necklace - which she does manage to grab. "Grab her!" she calls out, both mother and child making a run for Ari.
The living room outside is /almost/ as sad as the bedroom. There's a few more signs of someone living here, with the child's school bag thrown over a bare, raggedy couch and the TV looking like it's about twenty-five years out of fashion. The curtains are an ugly salmon shade - or maybe that's just a white that's gone so off that it can't be said to be white in good conscience anymore - and while the front door leading to sweet, sweet freedom outside is closed, someone's left the window open for fresh air. All it will take is a bit of climbing - from the sofa to the TV to the shelf over there and a bit of doggy parkour is all it will take for Ari to taste sweet, joyous freedom, even if she gets to taste no chicken nuggets.
It'd be pretty clear to anyone who'd ever met Ari in human form that her scrubby sailor-mouth ass isn't at all aligned to the Princess life. More like something one would expect to hear and see in a female prison: one of those with rubbery chicken nuggets and paint-peeled cinderblocks. And probably guards just like Mysterious Housewife whom she *just* manages to dart past and get that necklace in her teeth. The links are cold and taste of metal against her enhanced tongue and she also manages to elude Germ Factory. Thank the GODS that something is going right here. No, scratch that. Gods suck too, she wouldn't thank them. Maybe they even have something to do with this, the bastards.
Aha, the living room! Taking a brief moment to survey the situation, she tries not to tangle her feet in the delicate gold chain she's dragging along, but it might be the only way to get someone to realize that she's been transformed. She might have to rely on some nasty supernatural to...what? Do some kind of spell on the necklace, or worse, her? Well, yeah probably. Maybe it'll just wear off?
Shaking herself, she realizes she's standing there too long and scrabbles madly up the couch to the arm. Crouching, she makes an exploratory hop to see how these muscles work. DAMN they're a lot more powerful than human ones, even though she's tiny. She *throws* herself to the television and almost overshoots it, falling off. Just two more jumps, one to the shelf, one to the window. Freedom is SO CLOSE. She can smell FLOWERS now. Gathering up all her determination, she ignores the cries of "Princess, Princess!," and just -
LEAPS.
She /can/ smell the flowers, actually. They make Ari's little nose twitch, and they make her want to sneeze. That would be disastrous, considering the noise would just give her away immediately to her pursuers - and make no doubt, they are in hot pursuit of her. There's some scrabbling, some scruffing, some skidding of feet against wooden floor, and then the boy's there, trying to reach out for her while Ari makes the biggest leap of faith, from shelf to open window. It's like in slow-motion, the cry of, "Princess, nooooooooooo-"
Smack, goes Ari's head against the windowsill, and then she's sliding off and falling right out and onto--... cabbages? Yes. Cabbages. She's in a back garden, and life has given her cabbages. And when life gives you cabbages, you make coleslaw. Her canine tongue rebels at the thought.
With her ears flopping and her tail undoubtedly wagging out the joys of her new-found freedom, Ari can tell with a glance around that she's upon a property not too far from town - there's a road leading into town nearby which she can probably follow if she wants to find help from someone who doesn't dot their i's with hearts, and there's the trees of the forest too that look nice to get lost in for a few hours while she waits to see if the pill will wear off eventually. Whatever she wants to do, she'd better get to it fast before the boy runs out the front door and catches her and never lets her go again. She can hear footsteps already.
Oh, Ari isn't getting Rick-rolled by a goddamned boogery child. NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UPPPPP. It would be gracious to say that the head-smack against the windowsill taught her a lesson, maybe slapped some sense into her, but further time in Haven will tell whether or not *that* is true. NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWWWWN. Well, someone did, cause now she's rolling around in a damn cabbage patch. It's almost enough to make her feel sorry for the duo in hot pursuit. Thinking of them eating stewed cabbage all the time makes even her puppy belly turn over with a nasty little blech.
As she regains what sense she DOES have, she shakes the dirt free from her coat in a showering cloud, looking both ways. Fearful that some idiot will grab her up and take her to the pound, or worse decide like THAT pair to make her some kind of *pet*, she streaks towards the woods. Hopefully this shit will just wear off.
NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU.
Oh, she's definitely gonna do that one.
From the safety of the woods, Ari's improved hearing can pick up the sounds of crying, inconsolable child and frantic mother/Mysterious Housewife both trying to call out for "Princess! Princess! Come back!". The boy sobs out something about it being his /birthday/ and how his new best friend is going to get eaten by an eagle in the woods - are there eagles around here? Ari should keep an eye out.
Anyway - the point is: he's now going to have the worst birthday of all time. Maybe Ari's just teaching him a valuable life lesson about disappointment and what happens if you name your pets things like 'Princess'. He will never forget it.
The forest is thankfully quiet, other than the occasional sniffle and the "boo hoo"s drifting over from the cottage. It's quiet enough for Ari to just hide in the bushes and take a nap or something, in fact, and it's about the three-hour mark, when the sun is just starting to dip below the horizon, that she feels that familiar itching. Oh no.
It's not as awful this time - maybe her body's just gotten used to it, horrifying as the thought is, or maybe it just comes with being a little dog. The perks they don't want you to know about. Either way, Ari soon finds herself naked, in a bush, apart from the necklace she'd managed to grab. It's going to be a strange walk back to town.
If she happens to pass by the cottage on her way back, she'll find her clothes in a pile set out to be burnt later - they smell like ashes, but hey, they're /hers/. Small mercies.
Little Joe's still crying inside. Alas and alack. Maybe next year Mysterious Housewife can save up for a real dog.