Absit Omen RPG

Spell identification did not come as smoothly to those of the fluffy tailed rodent variety, even though animagus'es generally had some of the brainpower from their human forms. Not that Dotty was such an example of the magically fluent when remaining a critter. Show she didn't know or couldn't fathom the some variety of a Body Bend hex/jinx, or similar target non-lethal freezer, that suddenly came over her as she bound from shelf to shelf.

So when she fell like a brick, all rigid, it took a moment for her thrice addled mind to realize that she was now non-moving on the floor, rather then the continued thought of anticipation to scramble over various goodie-bags. If Dotty had the actual facility to realize it was just a spell, no petrification as bad from back-angled murder vision seen in creatures like the basilisk, she would have been calmer but still on edge.

Not so. She was as freaked out squirrel fidgety panicky as could be with the motor function of a piece of un-animated taxidermy. Nary a means to continue the egg-less variety of scramble. And then there were footsteps...

And with the last bit of effort -POp- the can's cantainment was vanquished sooner than the last time such events happened. One dark gray severely battered grubby looking squirrel was cast out on the rest of the shelving, running around in circles a moment confused.

Up until she realized there was another witch standing above her. If there were pants in a squirrel size they would be getting crapped by now. With a chippy type noise that could be either shock or disgust or shockgust she was off zipping off along the merchandise. In a poorly agility-etic dash because things were being toppled off the shelf in her wake.

The first shindig inside of prank store this wasn't for Dotty. She had once spent a series of months clabbering against the disappearing rabbit puppet off of the sign from WWW (Wheezy wheeze wheezes) in Diagon. The robbing, pilfering of goods and burglary of such establishments was become something of a signature for her. Perhaps in part because there were so many nooks for a ratty non-rat-actually a squirrel to hide about. But invariably...

Invariably

INVARIABLY

Someone needed to warn or otherwise help Dotty pick up on the fact that the cans in such stores that said they contained nuts NEVER contained nuts. Maybe it was from her always feeling more animalistic hungry as a rodent, yes even as a squirrel, or some long attributed instinct to store stuffs for the ever approaching winter.

(Given the eventual state of Dotty's hangouts this was an applicable inference)

And just like the other time, infiltration ended with Dotty stuck in a prank can. Again. A situation that had happened a surprising number of times up to the amount Dotty could probably count to as a squirrel without distractions.  So, from storeroom or shelf cam a rattle of an incorrectly stuffed can toddling about as if it had just gotten big kid jumper diapers. Up until it toppled over and then wherever it would start rolling.

"Wahpp--!"

Ok, some of Dotty's normative nimbleness might have been influenced by heaving her 'breakfast of oats' be the inebriated means. Better grip and leverage that would have had her scrambling over the other side of the pitch of the roof pitch like a drunken shingleler. Not that they used fancy shingles here.

But nope, suddenly more weight than the entirety of Dotty's being even if she was wet, had her pockets loaded with ill gotten loot and she had had a large lunch, was pulling her down by the legs. Not without some struggle, as the gutter also came down and enough force of a gnawing wallet to free her fingers. Bloodily, by dint of those sharpened teeth with its tenacious security measure. Though her fingers curled instinctively.

It was almost a dazed moment that passed in the fall of tangled bodies until Dotty had enough sense to recognize both her pursuer and catcher where both. Recognizing that he had every right to his wallet back:? Zip. Much like the fraction of a zipper.

"No freshing!" she yelled as she elbowed him in the ribs/stomach, probably a splitting and merging of the syllables in the phrase 'getting fresh.' Trying to rise.

"Oid oint dot hat" came the reply from the muggee in this relationship to Dotty's mugger. That was still chasing her put she wasn't really paying attention to him anyways. Stupid flashy wallet lover, probably thinking about how much it would cost to sew every stupid scribble back into it.

"You'll never take me alive, c--" Well, maybe he wasn't a cop, or aurora bureaucratic like they called them in the United K's here, but the sentiment was the same from Dotty.

Lucky for here Hogs-alcoholic beverage many of the cottages had peaked and/or thatched roofs, the kind that came long to the ground. There was just enough height Dotty could get from jumping off a woodpile, dislodging some of the split logs, leaving her hanging off the roof with surprisingly strong grip. Both arms and the friction' wallet she was wearing like a shrunken kiddie glove. Minus the magical tooth element.

"Possession is ten-ninths of the--OW"Dotty screeched, her own line of blood from her chewed out fingers. After all this effort and being bitten by a money pouch she was not about to let it back.

The pub had been some distance from main street but Dotty always forgot how few and far between the side streets were in this village. She dashed ahead to a gap between buildings while trying to juggle a wand to get the fennekin coin purse off her and, casting off handedly.

"Relashi-ACK!" came the bungled incantation, the misfired bolt bouncing off the damn thing, fricka-frack knicker-knacks, causing part of the wall Dotty was dodging past to spit out a brick turned into a block of cheese.

Though the runt at the end of the litter her whole life, Dotty plus out stretched arms plus trademark lifted lifted shoes equalled, after some long division, decking a guy in the head. Twisting in follow-thru on that wide swing, realizing it was bum guy she just lifted the blasted wallet made her scream "You!" deck him again with her other fist this time, the one currently not being eaten, indigent for the basic indecency that a mark shouldn't come chasing down once his wallet had been lifted and for having a stupid scribbled flashy bite-y wallet.

And also, a low kick to the shins or lower, then Dotty fled again. Frockin' wallet was on her good hand too so it was an awkward grab for her wand. Gotta jinx off this bugger off somehow.

Finally there was a zipper to find. No, not a zipper, a simple fold that did look like where the money was. Jackpot, as they said back home, a land of also 'house always wins' and 'what happens here stays here' and 'married in five minutes or less.'

Dotty put two eager fingers into fishing out coins...

And that's when something happened. First there was a bright glow, nigh blinding, and then a chomp. Dotty stupidly blinked at the flash, a slight delay to realizing that the freaking wallet had just bitten her hand!!! With a yelp that arm swung wide and backwards, chompy wallet still there as her hand hit something hard.

Sitcky tables. That was Dotty's excuse for not moving after a heavy mead far too early fat for a Saturday morning, for being both plastered and plastered to the table. Hair and cheek lying on her table, eyes intensely looking at fingers un-tensely playing in her emptied mug. Drink was just enough for a buzz but, for at this time, Dotty had too much or of an apprentice acquaintance with drink were it still wasn't enough.

And the more booze train was derailed of funds. Whatever, it was her stupor to stoop as she saw fit.

So little bleary eyes noted when the newcomer had entered, ordered fire whiskey, and when Dotty sees so clearly where he went to pay for his drink and where he returned his wallet that set the trigger off. She had to take.

Peeling herself off the table with something crispy (maybe she should get her hair washed) she tried to stretch and slap her numb face awake. With a fierce in-tents-city to focus it was almost like clarity for the normally fuzzy (small cute and fuzzy) witch animagus. And gosh, talk about easy pockets. Dotty had slipped right by when heading out the door, not even a distraction or wand movement to lift the dude's wallet.

Outside she was nose deep in investigating her spoils. Whatever the frick? Was it embroidered? All these strange scribbles on it. All over the front and back and pockets and leathers off it. And it didn't rattle in satisfactory audibleness. To suggest coin count.

Well what the who? Guy with so stupid of a wallet had to be loaded to afford a crazy design and keep more load in it. Course after turning it over a few times Dotty had forgotten which way was up with it.

If Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had a pest control problem, said pest control problem was spread out over the course of a year by one individual pest, err, varment, err, rodent, err...

Heavenly cashews and walnuts

It didn't take much dayage of time of Dotty remaining in animagus form to turn her buzzed out shrunken squirrel mind to craving nuts, rather than being worried about how she had finally ditched the dementors at the WBA Club Treehouse in squirrel form, or how she had gotten back, whether it had been the portkey from Black Chie--chim---? Black Chimichangas to Knockturn, or had it been the Lazy Crovie Kelpie's pork-key and if so, how had then to there been gotten to in backwater parts of Scotland she knew nothing about?

Regardless, once again this grey furred petr-petero-'flying squirrel'-nomi was back to huddling around the neighborhood of rooftops for daily scrappings, getting to that point in the long term transformation of an animagus that makes them think of how simple life is when you just have how far your four paws can carry you to worry about. Or whatever appendages your personal animal shape-form gave you.

Currently, the daily scrappings involved being chased by a cat through an area of wet paint, so Dotty the squirrel had tri-color skunk stripes down her back from heart shaped fur patches to tail, currently currently having a breather on top of the giant headed shop with the rabbit that appeared and disappeared every time the hat came down. Such was the case that this was no longer an unusual and frightening sight for the squirrel.

In fact, something about the Diagon joke shop kept bringing Dotty back, ever since the first  drunken bender night where she had tried robbing the place...or had she chickened out? Tough to say, but whether for the atmosphere or interior heat or possibility of swagging a quick knut, in the manifesting of squirrel soaked memories the little trick to sneak through the pipe in the back storeroom was a familiar one.

Thus, sneaking along like a sneaky...well, squirrel, the figure of tri-striped Dotty found the inside of the shop to have more hullabaloo than last warranted. But that was forgotten as, given the aforementioned nut craving, she slunk along the back of shelves towards the 'Muggle Magic' section, full body investigating a tipped can that promised nuts on the outside. And clearly it had been deprived of nuts and not, say, more factually at some point been stuffed with spring loaded snakes.

How Dotty had managed to get trapped inside the can, cover sealed up and everything, was, well, another story.

Joey, Mr. Tibbles, Dumb@$$, Shrew, Nancy, Flesh McCoy, Roger, and Scrapbart were soon forgotten their collective pinwheel around an overturned bar stool as Dotty proceeded to scramble in a flee worthy direction. It would have been flea worthy but her animagus form just wasn't coming, dash it all if anyone saw her go elongated rodent after making those constipated faces. No spell came to mind to try to ward off the shrouded thing.

Still, the inner animal in her wanted to get somewhere tight and possible high to avoid notice. Spezzely as the Dementor waft into the tavern.

'A storm had blown into Salem’s Peak, a sea spray faded...'

"No, shut up!" Dotty screamed uselessly, as there wasn't any conversation or person to yell at, and not many could reason with dementors. But even on the fringes of its all hope sucking void Dotty's mind was already being pulled back to that night. "It wasn't my fault! Stacey slipped!!"

Slipping down the pit to demented despair of old memories was about where Dotty was going to wind up. Half aware of where she was, she ended up crouched by a door. It didn't take long for her coming to this joint to get a rough sketching of the place. That way were meeting rooms but all dead ends. She'd never been through this door, or seen it open, but given it's position under the center of the biggest tree of this place it must lead to the treehouse upstairs. Where head honcho lived. And Dotty had no kind of  Alohamora strong enough to break his locks but luckily she didn't have to.

She was fumbling for her--' wand, passing over the body, she knew this was going to work ' "They couldn't prove anything!" Her wand was taken, everyone knew it would be snapped, Dotty had been in deep trouble before but that point, it wasn't even trying to head up the creek without the paddle, she had fallen over the deluge of the dam, there was so much trouble she was in.

"Finally!" A heavy iron key, bristles flexing as easily on a toothbrush, and Dotty had finally fished her skeleton key out of its hiding place. She fumbled it into the lock.

"She would have been a cool zombie!" Kept fumbling with unsteady hands, nearing the panic close to that night she had left school, close to the desperation to no be caught that had trapped her in a flying squirrel form for a few years. A revisit of the panic but not the usefulness of stress to trigger her animagus form in the now and dementor wafting and other dude being maggoted present.

And then the key turned just right and Dotty had the door open, key back in her hand, twisted stairs hopefully leading towards escape as she scattered up the steps like the scattering of the dead rats of hers once their tails broke apart.

A crowd of revulsed onlookers. Dotty's second-fifth way of of getting attention.

"Whatchu talkin' about, Hens?" relish-and-mustarding the fact that since coming to the foreign bloke of twin chickens last name in a mugging situation turned back against her that she come to learn of ways to gross him out in the time she had been under his thumb. "It's easier this way."

Well, hag-easy, which was where more of Dotty's necromatic skills had been picked up from when she was avoiding being skinned for squirrel stew. She scoffed at Donovon's crack. The wisecrack, not the otherwise delicious cleft crack in his chin or possibly the way the other one might look scruffy handsome as he was. "Pff-yeah, like they'd throw away anything decent there. Miserly holding out for full price on any shindig. This is all pain-lovingly-staken hand crafted."

"And you!," a finger pointed Darius' direction, "stop saying things that use fuzzy letters! Decipering Hens'es pronunciation is bad enough than using that accent of yours with things that can't be represented in the regular 25 letter alphabet, like, whatever you said, zio-bilisk-kalisk." Besides, if he wanted to blow it up he'd have to get in a line of dealing with Dotty first.

"Aw common," towards Tawse, "it's how they grow, really, like a reverse hydra situation but with their buts, tails instead of their necks." A weak justification forgetting how she had just been going on talking about mow much craft time had gone into them. "Though I suppose only Joey's fully skeletic, but that's easily fixed. Anyone got industrial acid?"

In trying to win money off of bone fights this was a killer strategy, and Anadotti Squiggs did not normally strategy. All 8 primal directions covered! That was like old school video game cabinet gold!

Though Dotty's word verbiage was soon forgotten when she had a drink to nurse and politics of the night were talked about. "Sheesh you pansies it's always cold over here." True, growing up in a desert was tons warmer than foggy ol' England over here but getting away from Vegas area got you equally chilly nights.

And when it was Dementors that were truly about, every witch for herself. In the growing tension Dotty had mentally spake her whole list of explective epithtats in mounting terror. Even Dotty didn't need to be warned twice on how deadly Dementors were, it was not a fun feeling. But should she change? No one had yet to sniff out she was an animagius and she prefered to keep it that way. But posing as a squirrel made it much easier to shake off Dementor drain, though in turn the indicision was only adding to her nerves of too much stress to even try transforming now.

"A dyslexic man walked into a bra!" Dotty shouted, but admittedly it wasn't that funny of a joke. And the joke ended with her punching the man in the face. No getting fresh with her faster than what pace she wanted for the makeout session even if they had gotten around to undressing.

Would diving behind the bar help? Although that might make Tawse think that Dotty was trying to pilfer drinks. Again. Meanwhile her rats were all trying to fit under a bar stool. And she couldn't help but shout when Darius blew out the window.

"Hey idiot! Thanks for giving them an open door to dement through! Why not chuck the welcome mat at them as well why you're at it?!"

((OOC: Rated 'S' for 'the squeamish may want to look away))

"fweeoo~fweoo~fweeeee~fwoo~fweeoo" was the sound of somebody doing a horrible job of trying to whistle the way you call Scruffles or Mr. Poodle back into the house. "Clear the runway gramps!" Dotty said as she descended the last of the steps. There was more pep back in her steps now that she had fallen into a more 'supportive' crowd and place of vittles. Sure, you had to have something like the effect of Logorrhea-Lite and solemnly swear you will not blab the spot, rat out your fellows and be willing to help the bar should you be asked (and other errata) before you could get into the place but it beat boredom in Knockturn the full day. Sure it was out in the middle of nowhere but some of Dotty's best and simplest years were out in the middle of nowhere.

With her was the scabbing noise of a bunch of tiny claws on the bricks. It looked at first as if she had an unruly mop until it the 8 rats were recognized tied into a 'Ratten-Kong' (because Dotty could not pronounce a word of German). Eight rats with tails tied in an irregular octagon...and an incredibly tacky pink and quartz dog leash clipped near center. Not just any rats but the giant kind that could be up to three feet. Each in a various state of decay on what bones were visible, one completely skeletal except for the strip of fur on its back down to the tail that was needed for the knots.

"One Snakebites. Singular not plural because I learned my lesson after last time."

What was going to be worse, choking or the wedgie she was going to get from sliding down the wall? With a wail-ish much needed deposit of air Dotty slumped some, submissive at this point as the delayed kick to the lower half wasn't going to do much anyways.

"Even I know you need a third on that," she said, rubbing the spot where his wand had left a skin indent. That was one of the first things she tried with Stacey Rebecca Donna and Annette back in school before some of their various other mischief and that night Stacey died. Turns out trying an Unbreakable Vow doesn't make anything more secure. Or make a Vow, but luckily Dotty had managed to convince them it had.

Dotty barely had time to reorientate herself before being further dragged into the alley. This time by the good graces to not have it be the hair. It sounded like the ol' panic'd standby had kept the skin of her neck out of the proverbial teeth or however idiotic idioms went.

She was almost going to suggestion accio-ing the rest of his spare change off the sidewalk but owning the guy for two whatever burrito-shaped things he was eating (or was that three with him buying two again in the near future?) but she wasn't going to be in debt to the guy for that long.

Right?


Done

Off of Dotty's unregistered animagus status, I know that's her method when she says she can 'sneak into whatever undetected' but it's not something she'll willingly divulge. Others she works with can still witness it but you don't blab about your main method of escape don'tcha know

That being said, if said knowledge is important in 'the plan' of whatever crime or prison break, I wouldn't mind a small criminal involved thread first so its in the know or banking on having her ability used but IC nobody knows it at the time.


In general, she can be known as a pseudo-competent burglar, very uncouth and jittery but not against getting her hands dirty or direct aggression. Plus if I was to throw in her collected knowledge and gear over time that includes a skeleton key for locks, a sound suppressing brass frog and her reanimated roadkill/vermin (and possibly something still from the time she robbed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes).