5% [location: Shelley; Spencer's... beautiful two story home??]

[numbersnfigures.livejournal.com]

After spending a week in a female body, Spencer had been thrilled to finally wake up as himself again. He was all out of sorts yesterday. He tried to read and work on running his stats of arrivals and departures, but he couldn't concentrate. Around 9 o'clock, he fell into bed.

This morning, he woke to the sensation that there was somebody in bed with him. He nearly fell out of the bed when he realized that it was Beckett. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he had slipped from his room into... a house? His apartment had turned quite suddenly into something that it was not last night. His furniture was now art deco and he had a television - one that he suspected only showed programs in black and white.

Spencer had made his way to the kitchen and brewed a cup of coffee in an ancient looking pot (which somehow worked like it was brand new). Now he stood staring out the large window in the kitchen, clutching his mug of coffee and contemplating the beautiful manicured green lawn in front of him, which stretched to a white picket fence.

He pushed his glasses up his nose and wrapped his robe further around him. Spencer had no idea what to make or this, or what to make of waking up to find Beckett sleeping beside him.

[OOC - This is for Spencer, Kate, River, Ax and Kara to have their family shenanigans. Although, any friendly neighbors who want to stop by are also welcome.]

Comments

[noheatnikki.livejournal.com]

Kate woke up when she felt Spencer shift next to her. She lingered a moment, waking up fully before getting up and putting on her slippers and robe. She went downstairs and smiled when she saw Spencer at the window. She brushed his hair back gently and kissed his cheek.

"You're up early. Give me ten minutes and I'll have breakfast started."

[ location: the house ] beware the teal deer

[skort]

It was more than a little startling when Kara woke up in a room that was so very similar to the one she hared with Lana back in Metropolis and yet... so very different. She sat up slowly, looking around warily. She'd just gotten her own body back and it seemed the hamsters were messing with everyone again.

Alright, Kara, she told herself, pull yourself together. You can do this. Think like Batman. What would Bruce do? She got out of bed and paused, unable to keep the wry smile off her face. Bruce would have beaten the tar out of the hamsters by now. But... the desk was probably a good place to start as any. It seemed innocuous enough, but desk were where Important Things went most of the time.

... Like a picture of her and her father, apparently. Like a diary with her handwriting in it.

Kara checked the clock as she picked up the diary and sat gingerly in the desk chair. 5 AM. She had time. Kara cautiously opened the slim journal and flipped past the 'DON'T READ PLEASE!' page. "Ow!" she whispered to herself, watching in morbid fascination as a small bit of red formed under the paper cut she'd just gotten. Which meant she was either under a red sun, writing in a magic journal or turned human somehow. None of these things sounded pleasant. She could only hope the diary explained a little as to what was going on.

It did. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, though, Kara wasn't exactly sure. When she was done reading she felt... numb, almost. Numb and drained and, god did she really want some coffee. There had to be a kitchen in here somewhere, right? Right. Adventure time.

And, you know, the journal may have warned her that she was living with Spencer now, but that didn't really do anything to ease the awkwardness when she padded into the kitchen in her robe and nightgown, seeing him all wrapped up in his own robe.

"Uhm... Spencer?"

long tag is long

[tailblade.livejournal.com]

It had been a relief to be himself again, to run free on his four hooves, to polish and sharpen his tail blade, to have his memory in its entirety. He enjoyed being human, at times, but it lost its appeal when he couldn't rely on his own brain to carry him through the day. Besides, human bodily functions were truly unpleasant, and when he morphed for only two hours at a time, he never had to deal with them.

So when he wakes up in a bed, as a human, yet again, he can't restrain a groan of frustration. Immediately he begins reciting Z-space physics equations in his mind to make sure his memory is intact. To his relief, it is. He examines his body. This is his standard human morph, the form he thinks of as his own. This is also something of a relief. He focuses on his body and tries to demorph, with no success. Then he tries broadcasting thought-speech. «Testing.» It seems that he can. This would seem to suggest he is simply trapped in morph, a nothlit, but he suspects this is not the case. He's woken up in a strange place. This must be a glitch.

Aximili leaves the small bedroom, making no effort to change from his pinstriped sleeping clothes. Just outside his room, he sees a photograph framed on the wall. It is a low-quality photograph, even by human standards, of Dr. Spencer Reid and a woman he does not recognize. Does this house belong to Reid?

"Excuse me!" he shouts. "Dr. Reid! Is this your residence?" He does not like shouting, and would have preferred to broadcast thought-speech, the one remnant of his Andalite self remaining to him, but he remembers Reid's discomfiture at his use of thought-speech.

[ location: the house ]

[biverbam.livejournal.com]

Sadly, at this point it's not entirely unusual for River to find herself waking up in a place she doesn't know. The fact that the room is hers while still remaining so wrong is what sets this apart.

A pink radio, notebooks and textbooks and sketchbooks, pair of well-worn ballet slippers hanging from the knob of the closet door, the picture of a happy family that had her in it but wasn't hers. It all hat purpose, history without direct meaning or correlation but connection that didn't even try to hide itself.

Currently, River (still barefoot in her sensible pink pinstripe pajamas) is trying to make her escape. It's clumsy and hurried, an attempt at a mad dash with lots of pausing to creep around corners or hide behind banisters.

Someone should probably stop her before there is a scandal.