Fandom: Megaman Legends 2
Title: Whinge, Whinge
Subject: Turning into a Monster (lets out obligatory "RAR!")
Wordcount: 900-something. This is a short rather than a drabble.
Pairing: N/A
Characters: Roll, Tron
Rating: PG, for a nasty derrogatory female-based remark or two.
Notes: My first strange story. It was Halloween when I wrote this, as suggested by the theme, so I had to do something odd. Battle Network apparently has "nekos" (cough cats cough). Legends has dogs.
Bleeeeeehghk.
This was before my BS-y Legends dating calendar system thing I am still developing (which shall be used in an original work of mine in some strange, distant future so it's far from a waste of my time)
The gang had retired for the night in the Flutter after another day of unsuccessfully trying to build a rocket that would hopefully travel far enough to get Megaman down from wherever he was. The night was cool but the inside of the tiny airship was hot and stuffy like a sauna, everyone scrambling for a place to sleep, if they could move around anyway. The couches were filled, Megaman's bedroom taken over by several servbots with poor Data (who was also fending for his cactus), and those that could not nab even a spot on the floor were forced to camp outside. To make things more chaotic was the long, heated debate regarding the at-first innocent suggestion of Roll and Tron sleeping in the same room, her bedroom no doubt.
It was not a terrible suggestion, both Barrel and Teisel figured. They were simply girls, right?
"You better not kick me," Tron snorted with her arms crossed, sitting on one corner of the bed in a long nightshirt. "And this bed is hard. How do you guys sleep in these things? And when was the last time you changed these sheets? From here, they stink."
Roll, who was sitting on the other corner brushing her hair, snorted indignantly, wondering how Teisel was able to tolerate this upper-class pirate brat. "Just deal with it! You can camp outside if you don't like it!"
"With the bugs and worms and snakes and diseases?" Tron wrinkled her nose. "Ew! What do I look like, some kind of filthy animal?"
The other girl rolled her eyes; she was impossible! It was not her fault that she did not grow up pampered and spoiled.
Sigh.
Setting down her brush and roughly combing her fingers through her soft, blond hair, she hotly stormed over to her desk to write in her diary. Tron watched, silent for once. She looked uncomfortable.
"Roll," she finally said, her voice soft.
"What now, Tron? You think there're rocks in my bed too?"
"No. Do you have a calendar?" There was a strange, husky edge to her voice now, like she had been gargling with razor blades.
Roll rose an eyebrow, finding the request a bit odd. "There's one on the wall. Are you okay? You don't sound right."
The pirate made an attempt to clear her voice, slowly getting up and checking the date. She was pale. Very pale. "Uh, Roll? I have something I'd like to tell you. I don't have very long but..."
Roll turned around from today's entry, hardly done with grousing about how Tron was a pain and engine schematics. From her chair, she noticed that Tron now looked very bad, her eyes looking almost glazed over and, well, there was something... else there. She could not describe it.
"You know why we really dig?" Tron coughed, leaning against the wall.
Roll blinked. She clung to her chair as she leaned into to listen. Something told her not to rush to her aid, to keep away. "I guess it's not just for riches, huh? Are you catching something?"
"I already have something," she growled, almost sounding like a... dog? "And we're hoping that someday, somewhere we'll find something thaaaah... Ahhh..."
Tron lost her hold on the wall, her hand sliding against it as she collapsed to her knees. She dry heaved, Roll finally throwing aside her naggings and kneeling at her side, placing a hand on her back. What scared her even more was the fact that even with one hand, she could feel that her back was twisted and dislocated. Broken, maybe. But Tron seemed fine earlier! How...?
"Tron...?"
The girl shuddered, sweating and shaking and even drooling (which made Roll's long suppressed morbid side in the dark reaches of her mind snicker). Going over their conversation to hopefully find out the crux of this urgent problem, Roll peered up at the calendar. What was today again? Ah, there we go. She saw nothing special that day. Tomorrow had the full moon marked out and-
Roll almost laughed at the irony of this. Tron could not possibly be a... There was no possible way! They did not exist, did they? And tomorrow was the full moon, not today! Why was she...?
Of course. The full moon really lasted three days, the "true" full moon being only the second night, and Tron was not enjoying this fact one bit. Her fingers curled back into her hands at a painful angle to form paws, her face lengthened into a large muzzle, a decent-sized, bald tail snaked out her backend and fell between her legs before furring out; Roll could only watch with wide eyes and back away. Her now-friendly rival was turning into a wolf right in front of her.
Then, finally, it was done.
Instead of launching herself at Roll, Tron flopped over, tangled in her oversized shirt-gone-tent, and did not move, those somber, humiliated green eyes looking pathetically up at Roll. Somewhat relieved that she was still in there, Roll quietly approached the slim timberwolf with caution (she was expecting a vicious, hairy-faced version of her, really). She had to admit, despite her conflicting bittersweet revenge for her acting like such a mean, oh, mean bitch and horror: she was sort of pretty. What she could see of her stomach, legs and lower portion of her face were a nice creamy color and her back was a grizzled cinnamon.
"Are you okay?" Roll asked, knowing the question was a stupid one.
Tron groaned and flicked her ear, remaining on her side. She be damned if she was going to budge and be subjected to the cutesy-wootsy puppy talk.
Needless to say, Roll and Tron got along nicely with each other afterwards. Much better than even Data and his cactus perhaps. Blackmail worked wonders.
Fin