[Video]

[radiantchicken]

In light of recent events, I think it might be wise for me to test a few items I've obtained over the past few months. Initially, I'd resisted using them until I absolutely had to because they had a limited charge, but now it would seem that I have the charger. I'll be able to reuse them.

[Torin strokes his moustache thoughtfully before continuing.]

Would anyone care to join me in testing a few things? I am not quite sure where would be best to set up--a firing range would be ideal, but possibly a bit too open for our purposes. I don't think this should involve anything too flashy, but...

[He produces his GigaGaburevolver to show off some of what he'll be testing.]

It would still be best if this were tested outdoors.

Comments

[professorwolf]

Lyall, being more sensitive to such things to begin with, actually starts to cough, and backs away hurriedly, waving a hand in front of his face. The general smell itself doesn't usually bother him, but that concentrated a dose of anything will basically overload the olfactory center when you're sense of smell beats out a bloodhound's.

At least the urge to laugh is gone, for now. "What is that-- methane? What could-- what could be the point of that?"

[dead_black_eyes]

L doesn't need to be told twice to stand back; the second the words have left Torin's mouth he's taking several paces backward. He's somewhat glad he did when that noxious gas sprays out of the gun, very visibly polluting the air.

"Is that what it smells like?" he asks at Lyall's guess of methane. He sounds and looks uncertain, and even a little distressed that he can't observe it himself. He destroyed his own sense of smell a long time ago, so he has the opposite problem as Lyall.

[radiantchicken]

Torin's wings snap out--where they stay when he's transformed and looking like a human in spandex is a mystery, and they're actually looking more like energy projections than solid wings--and start flapping to help drive the cloud away. "It could serve as a smokescreen, should the need arise. Or perhaps riot control."

He looks down at the last pink battery he's holding. "I wonder what this one's going to do."

Unbeknownst to Torin, the drunken bum they'd accidentally scared off earlier had wandered back over to where the targets were...surely nothing could go wrong.

[professorwolf]

"If you don't mind, I'm going to stand well back when you set it off," Lyall comments, still coughing, and still moving back. His eyes are even watering. That was a strong enough smell that his nose actually hurts: it's like an uncomfortable burning sensation. Smelling anything else is probably not going to happen for a few hours, but he's not taking any chances, given how badly that last one went over.

[dead_black_eyes]

Maybe Torin didn't see the bum, but L noticed a shift in shadows, and he tenses in nervous anticipation. He doesn't want to see anyone get hurt, but he convinces himself that he imagined it.

Following Lyall's example, he also stands back a safe distance, still squinting at the targets, silently second-guessing himself.

[radiantchicken]

"Here we go." Torin inserts the battery into the gun as he gives a nod to Lyall and L. "Yes, I believe standing back might be wise," he says as the gun shrieks, "GABURINCHO! STYMERO!" He takes aim and fires at that target, and the gun howls, "MEROOOOOOO!"

The bum that had been trying to spy on them gives a yelp and dives out of the way, but he's hit with the ray of pink energy that comes out of the gun. Torin gasps and rushes over there. The guy didn't fall over, which was a good sign, but still. He could have killed that guy. "Are you all right?"

When he sees Torin, the bum lights up. Anyone close enough may very well see a couple of cartoon-like hearts in his eyes. "Where have you been all my life?" And yes, that sure is a lovesick bum, because he's trying to fling himself at a very confused Torin.

[professorwolf]

"The weapon isn't much for stealth, either," Lyall comments dryly, pointing out the obvious. That is one loud gun.

When the stranger is hit, he starts, as well, and edges well around the leftover cloud of the gas, trying to hold his breath as he does so, to get closer, just in case what little first aid he knows is necessary.

... apparently not. No injury here, unless one counts sudden attraction. What the hell? "What did that thing do?"

[dead_black_eyes]

It is incredibly loud, and flashy, and bright. Nothing about Torin's powers are discreet, and L finds it difficult not to cringe, given the immense difference between reality and what he tends to consider important. Stealth is very important, something he and Lyall seem to agree on fairly strongly.

Then again, Torin hasn't been discreet for awhile now. With his beak, mustache and colorful plumage, he's impossible to miss, and maybe it's oddly fitting that his weapon is equally flamboyant.

L hangs back as Lyall rushes forward to attempt first-aid. He shouldn't have doubted himself, and feels a twinge of guilt for not saying anything when he saw that flash of movement duck behind the target. If the bum is injured, he holds himself at least a little bit responsible for it. That being said, there's only so much he can help, so for now he maintains his distance.

...until the bum lunges for Lyall. He stiffens, holding his ice stave at the ready, trying to discern if the man is in danger and if so, when to act. He thinks it'll become clear fairly quickly if Lyall can't handle the situation by himself, and he won't hesitate to act if that's the case.

[radiantchicken]

"Baby! Baby!" The bum's still flailing madly, and he seems to want a hug from Torin. "Where have you been all my life?"

Torin has no interest in the bum, and he's backing off, but the bum keeps coming. He looks towards Lyall. "I believe this one has the effect a very successful mating dance might have coming from someone with exquisitely bright plumage..." So putting this in parrot terms made it a little easier for him to explain, such is his confusion. And does he ever sound confused as he dodges the bum's advances. "Sir, not until you've had a shower, at the very least."

[professorwolf]

Looking between the poor man in the ratty coat, and Torin, Lyall asks incredulously, "It's some kind of... love ray?" Then, being a kind sort of fellow, he comes to put an arm between Torin and his new best friend. "Stay still, please, sir. I'm afraid you may be under the influence of, uh, a narcotic." Sort of. Aphrodisiac maybe?

[dead_black_eyes]

It's starting to get a little clearer, the nature of the bum's affliction, and unconsciously, L's jaw drops a little bit. It makes Torin's gun an extremely dangerous weapon; it was already, of course, but even if this was all it did, that would be true.

People suffering psychosis are one of the few groups L feels innate empathy toward, having been there himself, still finding himself there on occasion if his meds aren't precisely balanced.

Well, if they needed him still, he could at least help with that much. Biting his lip, he freezes the soles of the man's shoes to the ground, preventing him from taking further steps. Hopefully it wouldn't startle him too badly.

[radiantchicken]

Even the thought of potentially frostbitten toes was not enough to deter the bum from making goo-goo eyes at Torin. "Come on, baby, whaddya say we go back to my place and get acquainted, huh?"

Torin is making certain to stay out of reach, because the bum's also making a sort of grabby gesture at him. "I...believe so. I'll have to be careful with that one." This is weird. Very weird. Transformations and fart gas and love rays... "I do hope it wears off soon."

[professorwolf]

At least Lyall's supernatural strength is keeping the poor man from toppling over in the process of his reaching. He looks over at Torin hopefully. "I don't suppose it has an 'off' setting, as well, your weapon? For this particular situation?"

[dead_black_eyes]

L ventures coming closer now that there's no danger of the bum causing anyone lasting harm. Lyall's raised a very good question, because "hoping it wears of soon" doesn't sound like the best or most humane course of action by a long shot.

"Whether you can reset him or it does wear off, I don't think we can leave him here until we know for sure," he says, biting his lip.

[radiantchicken]

Torin is now looking down at the weapon and the battery he used. "I don't see anything that might be an off switch, save for switching off the transformation itself." He's still looking, but he's not seeing anything helpful. "Do you suppose it would help if I did that?"

[professorwolf]

"If you don't mind showing the poor fellow what you really look like, rather than keeping that particular disguise to yourself," Lyall says, half a warning and half an apology, "it can't hurt. Perhaps any magic is tied to the form, or at the very least perhaps you will register as a different person to your new friend, here."

[dead_black_eyes]

"Turn it off," L urges, fighting the impulse to look away from the desperately grasping bum. "Whether it helps or not, it's better to know sooner rather than later, especially if you're going to be using this on others in the future."

He wants to help the bum, but as with many who suffer from delusions, it's more of a waiting game than anything that will genuinely benefit from any sort of magic bullet. If Torin can actually end this delusion for real, he would prefer it was done pronto.

[radiantchicken]

Torin nods and starts to do just that, then hesitates. "I'll do it out of sight. See if that...helps." Because, really, if the man hadn't seen his initial transformation, it wasn't immediately obvious that Torin would be the guy in silver. "Hold on."

He jogs away to go hide behind some trees to kill the transformation, and once that's done, he flies upward very quickly, soaring back around to approach the others from the opposite direction. Hopefully he'd been fast enough that the bum couldn't tell it was still him.

"Hey, you seen that guy in the silver?" The effects still lingered, but at least Torin wasn't being recognized.

"Hm. This is troubling." Torin checks the battery in his hand. "Perhaps when the charge is spent? There's still a bit left."

[professorwolf]

"Try blasting a tree, or straight up in the air, and see if that burns out the rest of the charge?" Lyall suggests, adding to their unintentional victim, "He'll be back a little while. Just be patient."

[dead_black_eyes]

L is discouraged to see that the effect remains in place, but Lyall's idea is a good one. He nods briskly to demonstrate his support, addressing the bum while Torin checks the battery.

"Hey, where are you sleeping tonight?"

"With the Silver Man," the bum answers dreamily. L pinches the bridge of his nose.

[radiantchicken]

Torin gives Lyall a nod. "I'll try that." He puts the battery back into the gun, which once again shouts, "GABURINCHO! STYMERO!"

There is a briefly-repressed shudder at the bum's choice of sleeping arrangements for the night, and Torin pulls the trigger, silently hoping he's not lucky enough to hit some bird flying overhead. (At least he'd have a much better idea as to how to deal with that...)

The pinkish burst of love energy shoots upward, draining the charge completely, and the bum starts looking around, dazed.

[professorwolf]

"Everything all right there, sir?" Lyall asks, tentatively retracting the arm across his chest that had been helping hold him back-- in addition to the ice-feet, anyway.

[dead_black_eyes]

The bum blinks, rubbing at one of his eyes blearily.

"Who the fuck are you people?" he asks gruffly. "What's wrong with my feet..."

He tugs at them, almost falling over. L steps in to help support him; it's a situation where his poor sense of smell is a boon, because the man carries a strong scent somewhere between cheap alcohol and sour milk.

[radiantchicken]

Thank goodness. The bum's back to normal. "I'll take care of his feet." Torin held out the gun--devoid of any battery inside--and shot a few energy shots at the ice, breaking it. Poor bum, getting his feet shot at by a birdman with a handgun.

...he should give the guy an explanation, shouldn't he? "We're a sign you should stop drinking so much."

[professorwolf]

"You ought to run along, sir," Lyall suggests, a bit awkwardly. And, as an aside to Torin, he adds, "At least we know how to turn it off, now. Hopefully you didn't hit any owls or bats or anything up there."