Target Practice

[Slugsworth]

March 23th

Useless! Everyone was useless! Argh!

The sea bunny shot from the water of the delta river and promptly shook himself, flinging globs of water from his ears. Slugsworth took a glance around to see where his unending travels brought him. It looked like a rural rocky shore with no development in sight, just forests. He’d been told by an orca pod that word was the scourge of the sea was sighted here. But then again, since it seemed like he’d had to lap the world a dozen times over going only on advice, Slugsworth was beginning to severely doubt the helpfulness of every single person he came across.

Every. Single. One.

At this point feeling frustrated, he began to pace back and forth rapidly.

“Must I be completely surrounded by incompetent morons!?” Slugsworth barked to himself, “If I didn’t need that brutish hunk of lard to keep those mindless mooks in line, I would have done away with him years ago… if I could.”

He kicked a rock. Hissing, he hopped back, holding his foot with both hands. Back teeth shown in a scowl as he growled and halted to dig his claws into his head. Feeling a finger graze the gem embedded into his skull, he seemed to remember it being there. Slugsworth slowly turned toward the treeline.

“Perhaps it’s best I vent my frustrations.”

Black ears pricking at the sound of something moving in the underbrush, the little beast grinned viciously. He repressed laughter as the crystal in his forehead illuminated and shot a tiny, narrow beam of magic into the brush, causing some of the leaves it hit along the way to smolder.

“Come out, come out..”

[Python]

    Cold, cold, so cold! Granted, it wasn't as cold and gloomy as the greek underworld, but it was still cold. Python was not a creature that possessed fur or anything to keep them warm, and they were sadly all scales instead. It was probably the fiery rage within and the resisting the instinct to find some place dark and dry to enter brumation that kept them going in such an alien land. They missed Greece and its warm environment already. They had overheard that this cold land had some pretty ancient magic, so the old serpent dragon thought that maybe they could steal some of that to get their power back... They definitely should have waited until spring had come!

    They had been just trying to stay warm in a thicket of dry and slumbering plants and dead plant matter when they heard someone being all loud and angry, then the smell of burnt leaves now, from some sort of beam of energy. They were curious but now also on edge. The serpent poked their head out and glared narrow slit eyes to find... a familiar creature. They recognized the deep sea smell of dead fish and salt water, and the basic shape. It was one of those beings they encountered back in Hawaii... What was their name again?

    "I'm surprised to see you, little creature," They spoke in a low tone. "What brings you to this cold place?" 

[Lars]

Inspiration was running quite dry for Lars. The ordeal with Cruella had left him shaken and a bit paranoid; he knew, logically, Cruella was going to be in prison for a long time and there was no way she could have been stalking him... but he still felt her awful presence somehow. Since a lot of the art he made at the time had been destroyed or lost, he had no creative drive, no old work to look back on for some kind of idea... just nothing. Hearing about the war made him even more nervous, and he was determined to keep himself out of it by any means. He had wanted to return back to France to see if he could come back to his roots, but knowing it was under the rule of one of the three armies, he decided he would stay in England for a while longer... just until everything began to simmer down... if it ever would.

In a desperate measure just to produce some form of art, he figured he would take his supplies and attempt something he hadn't done in years... still life. There was all kinds of beautiful colors and sights he could draw inspiration from on the coast. Surely, the artist figured, this would at least kick-start something.

Lars had set himself off a bit off the shore into the treeline, giving him perfect vantage of the ocean and the rock formations, crashing waves dancing all around the rocks, the sounds of the waves receding and then splashing up the the shore, the scent of the briny sea air... it was very relaxing, if nothing else.

Usually, his strong suit was abstract art, finding some kind of allegory or hidden meaning in the mundane. But this sort of artist's block required baby steps, going back to the basics. One couldn't improve upon one's craft without practice. He began mixing up a simple, cloudy blue and gray pallet, and just started with the separation of the sky and sea... the more detailed he became in his brush strokes, the more he began to feel himself get in "the zone", as some called it. But of course to his detriment, trouble still found its way to him.

He saw the small ray of magic burst from the shore and incinerate a few leaves seemingly out of nowhere, and it made him jump and squeal in a very undignified manner, sending his thick brush flying through the air toward the shore and landing with a firm PLAP in the sand, sending droplets of steely blue paint flying. For a second he was just confused and startled, but when he realized what had happened, he became furious.

"You have the NERVE! The GALL! To interrupt my work!" he began to raise his voice as he stomped through the growth toward the shore... he nearly stepped right on Python before he noticed them poking their way out of the brush. Lars was not afraid of snakes, he had owned one as a pet when he was a teenager, but it still startled him terribly, making him squawk in surprise and flail backwards yet again. Then he finally noticed Slugsworth and the mischievous grin on the sea bunny's face.

"You." It wasn't a question. He pointed a finger directly at Slugsworth. He opened his mouth, like he intended to say something, but he immediately shut his mouth again, seeming to realize getting angry at this little sea bunny wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Were you the one that made that little shot and made me RUIN MY BEST BRUSH."

[Two-Tone]

Ah, the frigid shores of England! Full of salt spray and the taste of adventure!

The crashing of water upon the rocks! The call of gulls high above!

The absolutely bone-chilling water.

Two-Tone's teeth chattered as she staggered out of the shallows, shaking each foot as she lifted it before giving a great heaving shake. Water droplets scattered like flies. So taking a run in the waves mid-March -- not an adventure she wanted to repeat. Could cross that one off of the bucket list.

It had only been a few days since the dainty dal had made the snap decision to leave the Dearly Plantation. She was a year old already! High time to leave the over-spotted nest and head out on her own. Maybe she'd meet some handsome strangers, break some girls' hearts, solve a crime or two. Become someone's hero, even. She certainly couldn't do any of that sitting on her butt at home.

So off into the big wide world she'd headed.

The sound of shouting coming from farther up the rocky shore piqued Two-Tone's shortsighted interest. With pursed lips the girl picked up her paws once more and headed off at a trot, letting the movement restore a bit of feeling to her frozen paws. Clambering over rock and pebble she finally pulled herself up with both paws to balance half-standing on a boulder, only her head and front paws peeking visibly over the edge.

An odd trio met her gaze. A (slightly familiar, but they all kind of looked like that from behind) human, a snake-thing, and... Something that resembled a living squeaky toy.

"Ope," Two-Tone's cheeks ballooned with air as she considered the sight before her. To interrupt or to saunter farther on down the beach?

[Slugsworth]

He replied to Python:

“I,” growled Slugsworth, “Am still looking for my immense troglodyte of a father!”

And judging by the cynicism in his voice, the sea bunny was beyond frustrated with searching by then. Slugsworth didn’t seem outwardly bothered by the serpent. He still had his prey instincts, but his time as a fairly high ranking individual among creatures far bigger than he had given him ample training in remaining authoritarian to near anyone. Frowning, he leaned back to get into a crouch, his webbed hands being set down under his chest, giving the impression of a squatting hare.

His eyes and ears turned at once. His frown grew on his face but he didn’t budge, merely side-eyeing the human. Slugsworth wasn’t even particularly absorbing what the human was saying. There was an instinctual little hop once the bunny was aware of a limb coming his way. He readjusted to be facing the human more directly, though he didn’t display the fearful stare common to rabbits of the land variety. In fact, his irritation just seemed to grow by the second.

Leering, Slugsworth snapped his sharp beak at the human and was standing back up on two legs in seconds. A bitter frown remained as he wove a chiding finger.

“Do you know who I am?”