Counting Sheep (12) : All around the city, odd, lumpy mounds of snow have begun appearing--harmless at first glance, until one of them suddenly shifts, shakes itself off, and lets out a loud bleat. A large flock of incredibly fluffy, snow-covered sheep has wandered into town from who-knows-where. Their dense white wool blends perfectly into the winter landscape, and snow clings easily to them. They seem perfectly content in the cold and go about their business without a care, but it’s still startling to watch what looks like a miniature snowdrift suddenly get up and trot away. They're typically not hostile, but they will attempt to flee and avoid capture. They seem good natured--adorable, warm, and only occasionally a little chaotic.
Whatever Maus thought he was doing that night, it was clear that nobody cared, because in the midst of whatever meaningful thought he was probably avoiding, an avalanche fell upon him. A soft, fluffy avalanche that swarmed around him, the night echoing with frantic ba-as and m-eh-eh-ehs.
Followed by a pissy, "Don't just ********' stand there! Grab one!" A bent stop sign flew through the air, nearly impaling a fluffy sheep that nimbly jumped and dodged just in time. In the distance, emerging from the dark, was Orc Marge Simpson.
rejam
Posted: Sat Dec 27, 2025 7:37 pm
Of the many (many, many) things there were to fault Maus for, being slow to react was not one of them.
He had, in fact, succumbed to the fluffy avalanche, but that had been less sluggishness than a resignation to the idea of yeah, that tracks.
However, upon being interrupted, he moved with a surprising speed, albeit in a scurrying sort of way appropriate to his namesake. The stop sign was just as quickly picked up - albeit not nearly as manfully as he'd have liked, squire strength or no - and fumbled into something like an offensive hold as he put himself between her and the sheep.
To face the sheep, though.
"Why?" He demanded, lamentation on the edge of the word. "What can these ones ******** do?"
He still had what felt like a lingering stitch in his side from the wolf. What did a sheep have in store for him?
And then, abruptly, he realized that this wasn't a stranger, and was in fact a face that was unfortunately difficult to forget, much as he'd have liked to.
"Cockblocker," he said accusingly, as if that had ever been in the cards for him or, indeed, even been in the plans. It was good to have a more concrete grievance (ha) to air, though.
Well, the little s**t was the ready sort at least. Moved quick, though clearly more prone to defense instead of rapid attack. Typical Knight s**t. Rolling her eyes, she strode up to his side and noticed that his alarmed posture had, somehow, slowed the some of the sheep into turning around.
“I’ve been studying these ******** for awhile,” she drawled with a nod. “With their feeding and ******** patterns, diet, and s**t distribution. I’d say they’re more than able to…make a good ********’ stew.”
Though the way they were eyeing Maus, maybe they were capable of something worth pissing his pants over.
The accusation had her grinning even more widely. “Aw, did you plan to ******** one?”
Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2026 4:52 pm
lizbot
"Not Welsh enough," he said promptly, unoffended and un-needled. He relaxed, though, dropping the stop sign with a loud clang that - surely by coincidence, and not intentionally - sent most of the sheep bounding off a few paces in alarm. "Not going to pretend like there isn't some merit in pretending to be a dumbass when you know better," he added mildly. "But just know that it isn't working on me because you're also trying to play an innocent dumbass and no one is falling for that."
“Just ’cause she’s fresh of the ********’ UFO doesn’t mean Kua’kua doesn’t have standards. Besides, you aren’t her type. ‘Stead of being built like a fridge, you look ready to get shoved into one.” She didn’t actually know her housemate's type, but best to n** this one in the butthole. Grieve had an instinctive distrust of anyone who was both small and seemed a little too clever. Alexis was that sort and Cosmos knew they’d never met a knife nor a back that they didn’t want to matchmake.
And while Alexis was a long time companion and friend, she didn’t intend to let them schmooze Kua’kua either.
The sheep were like a fluffy tide moving back and drawing close and moving back again. Maybe they were hoping the two would fight to the death and they could gnaw on the loser. <********> they looked so soft and delicious.
“You want me to find you a hook-up? Wingman your a** into a harem or something?” Fair was fair after all.
Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2026 5:20 pm
lizbot
"Can you do that?"
This was, pathetically, not without a little ray of hope in it, quickly squashed. He was not quite between her and the sheep, but he wasn't not, either.
"I feel like everyone you know would like to shove me into a locker and I know it's a ******** shock to hear it, but I am not actually into getting bullied and stepped on."
The news that he was not the alien girl's wheelhouse was not of any immediately relevance to him, but it was a depressing reminder of his visual type. For the thousandth time in that month - spurred largely by depressing attempts at compelling profile pictures that were never going to be up to snuff (or Scruff) - he thought that maybe he should start working out. His nicotine-coated lungs, in response to the idea, cried out with the painful impulse to hack, and were valiantly resisted.
"But I mean, maybe I'm judging by appearances just as badly as you are. Maybe you're surrounded with -" he attempted to summon something that could be described as "his type" and failed miserably since his type was basically just laughed at his jokes and gave a lot of impromptu hugs and dressed nice, but not nicer than he did "- people who don't need a man shaped like a kitchen appliance. Or at least willing to meet me halfway on - on a French press or something, I don't know."
“So you’re saying Joy’s out of the picture, huh?” Grieve tsked, her grin growing extra teeth.
She wondered what sort of act a French Press was, and if Nigh Nigh would die all over again or just be virginally confused if she asked him. As for the rest, she just shrugged, “The people I’m surrounded with are addicted to either being super ******** complicated about relationships or super ******** annoying about playing grabass in public with their soulmate.” Alexis was, as always, and exception, but, despite both being Little Shits, Grieve didn’t think Maus could safely match their freak.
“But I can take you to a club and look like I’m your friend. Make you look cooler by ********’ proximity, yeah?”
Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2026 5:48 pm
lizbot
"I don't think it works that way," he said, somewhat grimly. Maybe if he could bait her out into conversation it would be easier to get her mind the rest of the way off the sheep. Not that he was opposed to Grieve having a free-range rack of lamb, but maybe not where impressionable children - or worse, vegans - might see. "What are you, like seven feet tall? Making me look like I'm five-foot-seven or something by comparison."
He was, in fact, five foot seven.
And then, in case she needed further motivation to look away from the lambchops, he began rooting around for a pocket before remembering that he was powered up and reaching into subspace instead: "Cigarette?"
"Five-foot-seven and good enough to hangout with me," she gave him a doubtful look. Maybe he'd never been friends with a badass? Grieve frowned a moment in thought before nodding. Yeah, that tracked.
The frowned stayed, though, as she looked at the wimpy little smoke he held up. "There anything good in it?"
Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2026 6:03 pm
lizbot
"Only if you haven't already developed a tolerance for nicotine," he said pleasantly.
Taking it, she gave it a sniff, a sneer, then slipped it behind and ear. Less for wanting it and more for taking something from him after he decided to ******** up her sheep hunt.
"What else you got?"
Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2026 6:27 pm
lizbot
He had developed an impression that Grieve was more worldly than the deer-boys, and so he had not initially banked on getting very far with the ol' cigarette trick anyway.
It would be interesting to assess her worldliness, however, and generosity was often beneficial to those looking to have useful allies, or at least allies with big ********' teeth.
He procured a small assortment from the depths of his subspace that cannot be discussed on this website, very carefully only providing her a little sample at a time, along with a cheerful synopsis. Not everything was cheap, and from him, certainly not everything was going to be free.
"Don't take 'em all in one place," he ended cheerfully. "And don't tell Joy I gave you those."
Grieve nodded and inspected the contents of her hand. Then slung a companionable arm around his shoulders. "'Course not, I'll be taking them one at a time in one place."
The sheep began to move on, but the demonic minion cosplayer did not.
"How far you live from here, anyway?"
Unlike the cigarette, she didn't recognize any of this s**t. But Grieve was, in fact, worldly enough to know when she might merit a babysitter.
Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2026 7:33 pm
lizbot
"About four thousand miles and across a dimension," he said drily. "Because that's where Maus lives."
This was a very pointed deflection away from his civilian identity. He might be more cavalier about it than Joy, but that didn't mean he was handing it out willy-nilly to anyone who asked. Especially not someone he was vaguely sure might eat him, or possibly worse. Especially now that the sheep were escaping unharmed and uneaten.
It was also very pointedly a deflection away from her implied invitation to herself, which he chose to address directly. "But you being so surrounded by friends and all, I'm sure you'll find someone closer."
Arm tightening around him, she pulled out her senshi phone with the other, thumb hovering over a certain icon. "It's your place or mine, babe, and yours is a lot ********' nicer."
