You Wanted Adventure...
The next day at the studio, there's little for you to do. It's clear things are winding down for this movie, especially your part in it. Hanging around the set with Wylan and the little director makes you feel like an extra, in spite of Wylan's smiles. Bragho shows up late and bashfully avoids looking at you, for which you're grateful. You're not sure what to say to him.
There is one little scene you're needed for, in the afternoon. One thing you've been proud of is doing your acting job well, and trying to live up to Lenara's reputation. The others have been patient with you and given you training. Still, you're new to the actress role and you got the job by sheer luck rather than earning it. It's humbling to know that. Time to work.
You head out to lunch by yourself. At the restaurant you pore over the script, and not till the food's gone do you realize you're not fretting about home for once. You grin at this moment of professionalism, then wipe the barbecue sauce off your muzzle.
Then you're strutting through warm sunlight down the streets. The town's quiet as usual compared to a city full of cars or even the seaside city. Maybe you could ride back there next holy-day and try that restaurant Bragho suggested...
You pause. Okay. This body, this costume, didn't steal your soul, but that doesn't mean you have to go all vixy in your first week. Get ahold of yourself, g -- um, fox-person! You really owe Wylan one, considering how tough it must be to deal with a depressed fox.
Warily you peek into the same alley where you were attacked. You should've known better. It's a nice town overall, and you're getting used to the odd logic of the buildings. What's so weird about selling board games and snack food in the same shop, or cartoons that're really virtual-reality sort of things? The computer laws are obnoxious, but there's always a chance for reform, and the library's pretty good. What's with the fortress-garden design of that anyway? There must be some neat history behind it.
Your ears flick, making you reach up to touch them. There's cheering ahead from the park. You can't stay long -- gotta get back to work -- but maybe you'll get to see what sports look like around here. Come to think of it, you could probably make a fortune "inventing" baseball.
Some foxes are gathered on the grass. Mostly ruffled young men kicking around a ball or something, with bystanders cheering or... wait. That's not a ball.
They're beating the tar out of a man. He's got short sandy fur and big ears, and when he spots you he calls out "Senorita!"
"Eloy?" you shout, running toward the gang. It's the Fen guy from the library. "Stop it! Stop hitting him!"
Some of the people gathered here aren't in on it. They're trying to tell the gang to stop, too, or just standing around, for whatever innocence that buys them. As you get close and a couple of the punks turn to you, you feel small and weak. You'd forgotten you don't have the same build as before.
One of the goons glares down at you. "Back off, lady!" The others are kicking Eloy and he's covering his face.
The goon shoves you back when you try to stop them. You can't get past these guys. "Help me break this up!" you call out to the onlookers.
The goon says, "Dirty Fen-lover. His kind's behind everything!" Oh god, you can see blood matting Eloy's fur. People are wavering, hesitant to pick a fight with these thugs in the name of a foreigner. And you can't get through, can't help him. They might kill him, and all you can do is walk away...
No. There's one thing you could try, if you can remember how you did it before. If you're willing to put yourself in a lot of firey-hot trouble.
Written by Snow on 17 July 2010
