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 Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 3:44 pm
"M-most likely... it's... n-not like we're g-going anywhere," He smiled weakly up at him.
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 3:52 pm
"Heh, yeah, really..." Sid glanced away, then back.
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 3:54 pm
Newt's smile faded and his gaze returned to his toes, "I'll... l-let... let you g-go, then."
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 4:02 pm
"Well, uh... If you're ever around, or inclined... my door's always open. Except when it's closed."
It occurred to Sid that he'd been putting that invitation out a lot lately. It was, he told himself, only for the sake of being sociable, not because he was lonely... His duplex was, now that he thought about it, in need of cleaning. He'd have to get to that soon.
He raised a hand in a halfassed wave to Newt and took another step away from the door. "See ya."
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 4:04 pm
The frog watched the older man go, waving weakly, "W-watch yourself on th-those st-steps... th-the... ah... one st-step n-near the b-bottom n-needs a new nail or t-two. I... havent' g-gotten to it yet."
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 4:07 pm
Sid stopped and immediately tried to pick out where the trouble might be. It gave him an excuse to keep from being watched as he went down one at a time, same as he'd come up. "I will. Thanks."
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 4:17 pm
"N-no... no p-problem..." The frog murmured quietly, hopping back to hide behind the doorframe again, waiting for Sid to drop out of view befor closing the door.
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Posted: Mon Nov 06, 2006 4:18 pm
With his back turned, Sid's expression at having to tackle the stairs while being watched was thankfully hidden. He slowly started making his way down.
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 12:36 am
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 12:37 am
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Island of Moreau Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 6:25 pm
At least it's not a surprise this time.... but that still doesn't help Newt feel any better the day after his injection. He feels nauseous, bloated, and generally ill. The greenish tint to newt's skin begins to darken, his skin becoming slicker and any remaines of body hair from his scalp down detaches itself, falling away. In fact, it doesnt' stop with the body hair. Newt's hair begins to fall out in clumps as well, more rapidly until only a few remnant strands that were stubborn still rooted remain. Your throat expands in a scared KRRKIT - and as it does so, a ripple spreads through your flesh as your neck and face balloon out into a thicker mass. The rumbling in your stomach gurgles as your stomach expands into a distinct potbelly. Your posture also seems to be firmly rooted into the froggy crouch. You can straighten up, but it just seems so much more comfortable, you feel so much safer crouched down - smaller, less obtrusive, and able to move more quickly. 
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Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 11:41 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 09, 2006 11:48 am
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Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2006 8:41 pm
It hadn't been all that long since Sid had last visted Newt's duplex, but a lot had changed in that time- him especially. The drugs and alcohol had failed to keep him numb that time. The poisonous cocktail of emotions had worked found their way to the surface when he found his new hands greatly limited his typing speed. If he went very, very slowly he could manage, which led him to realize his old fears of being hindered with the one thing that mattered to him had come true. If that, then what did that say about all the others? Being faced with that had broke all those carefully constructed walls of his, and when it was all over he was surprised to find he felt better for it... better even that when he drowned it all with other things.
Problem was somewhere in the midst of his outpouring of emotion he'd thrown his typewriter off the desk. Finding it in pieces was like finding he'd killed a loved one in a fit of passion. He'd had the damn thing longer than any of his wives, after all. Not knowing what else to do, he gathered all the pieces he could find into one of his old bags and brought them over to Newt's.
He wore a t-shirt with the jeans that were now not only altered for the tail, but sloppily cut off, too. He regretted not cutting up the t-shirt, but it was a genuinely vintage Pink Floyd shirt, damn it. He'd gone barefoot just because it was easier, but he had his ill-fitting sunglasses on. He was still just a little upset with himself when he got to Newt's, so his knocking end up sounding more urgent than it really was. It was sort of an emergency... a typewriter emergency, but still.
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Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2006 8:57 pm
Newt had been sitting in his duplex, thankfull, away from the lake for once. His meager selection of clothing lay spread out about his cluttered , insect and dried grass infested apartment. He was halfway through Rubber Soul on the record player Aubrey had so graceioiusly given him. He sat crouched in front of the mirror in his bedroom, sadly taking in his changes and attempting to see a bright side. Thus far, he didn't. His old jumpers simply wouldn't fit- he had been skinny as a scarecrow his entire life, and now it seemed despite his face, his body had decided to take a distinctly froggy appearence, and he hated it. His stretchable swimtrunks fit comfortably enough for him to stand, but the best he could do for his top was a dampened undershirt that managed to stretch over his wide tummy. He'd never really had any tummy to speak of ever since he could remember, and he didn't know what to do with it! He seemed to also have lost his chin somewhere along the line, which made him disconcerted enough.
Everyone's changing. Everyone is awkward. He repeated it to himself plenty of times, but it never really helped. There was no way he could face Natsumi again now. He was just sighing and about to see what else might fit when he heard the knock on his door, and unsuprisingly he jumped with a squeek, rushing to turn off the music and see who it was. "Ah... er... jus-jus-just a mo-mo-moment!" He cried.
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