hellofist. Ninth Unused Utility Belt

All the food... is big.

[Or, you know, she's small and everything else is huge in comparison. Cass has made it to the kitchen and found herself a pie, which she's already dug her hands into and started eating. She's actually in the pie now, holding onto a cherry the size of her head, mouth all smeared with pie filling and there might actually be some in her hair, but she doesn't care. It's a giant pie. Come on.]

Had dreams, like this. Giant food, no one to... stop me. Probably can't... eat whole pie, though.

[She looks over to the other side of the pie, the crust still all in one piece. She hasn't made it to that side yet.]

I guess... I could share.

Spam for Merlin

[After her pie escapades and a rather long bath in the kitchen sink to de-pie herself, Cass had sent out a message to Merlin. It had been a voice one just in case he hadn't wanted to see her, just something to check in on him, make sure he was handling his first strange Barge occurrence well. She was glad this was his first one, considering it was pretty easy, just a little bit of shrinking, but she still couldn't shake her need to check in on him.

He hadn't replied though. And maybe she should have just left it at that, but she just couldn't. What if he was small and got trapped under something, couldn't call for help? So she'd gone off in search for him, wiggled her way under his door and found the main part of his room seemingly empty. The stairs up to his bedroom were a bit of a challenge but before long, she's in Merlin's room, looking up at his bed and the pile of blankets there.]

Merlin?

[There's a bit of the sheet hanging down and it's easy to jump and grab it, climb up to his bed for a better look at the blanket mountain there.]

Are you... in there?

Tags:

Threaded. Flat

Posted by

fearthepackingchips

Or you can try to eat the whole thing. You need somebody to bet you on it?

Posted by

takeyouapart

[Merlin's there. Though it doesn't really feel like he's…present. In the moment.

Abruptly being eight inches tall woke him on Saturday morning and since then he hasn't moved far from his bed or really done anything. It's a contender for 'strangest thing ever to have happened to him' but at the same time it feels peculiarly irrelevant.

The slow trickle of memories that started on Wednesday night have broken into full flood. They pitch and roll awkwardly in his head; his mind doesn't know where to put them. It was two weeks ago, or four years, or at some time beyond his understanding. He remembers --

Speaking to a man with Uther's face. Killing a goddess. Walking the streets of a dusty town still in its infancy. Cutting a stranger's throat. Making flowers grow under the touch of his hand. Becoming his own father, asking after his son. Summoning the soul of a girl long dead from a distant shore. Walking alien worlds.

Letting Morgana kill him. Reshaping the sky to make a girl smile. Flying, and feeling his own wings brush the ground. Tolerating almost a year of Arthur's thinly veiled disapproval -

- thank you -

Sam. T'Pol. Buffy. Hayley. McCoy. Annie. Severus. Ethan. Claire. Wichita. Sveta. Isaac. Cara. Trip. Jim. Olive. Valmont. Tim.

Reaver. Charles. Jean. Cassandra -

He hears her voice, and he flinches.]

Cass.

[He draws in a breath. It judders painfully around the lump in his throat.]

I'm up here.