[Open log]

[smallest]

Who: Francœur and YOU
Where: Around the city
When: Juno 16
Warnings: Gross bug moulting habits

[Early evening, Bistro Deur]

"Ever since you smiled at me
I fell in love with you endlessly
Your shape fills my dreams, fills my dreams"

People crowded the small bistro for another performance. After the success of his debut, the Bistro Deur had been a frequent place for Francœur's songs. This time he sang a slow love song that people could sway to, or simply get lost in as they stared longingly in each other's eyes. Although this song required less energy and dance routines, he poured all his heart into it just as he did to every one of his songs. Perhaps that was why he looked a little out of breath by the end. He stayed only briefly to mingle with the crowd. It was long after the performance, and yet he still gripped his chest and gasped for air when he thought no one was looking.

[Night, near the housings]

He only had one performance that night. He planned it this way, but he did not plan for this to happen so soon. There was no denying it, he was moulting tonight. Unusual for a flea at this stage, but he stopped being a usual flea a long time ago. Every part of his body felt like it was getting smaller all around him. It sapped his strength and made it hard to move. Slowly, he moved closer to the housings one step at a time. He trudged, and then crawled, until eventually he fell face down on the ground. His back twisted and he hunched over, creating a loud snap that echoed off the walls of the city.

Comments

[beforethewar]

The Doctor had been heading back to the area of the city where all the wayward souls had been given housing after a long day (and most of the evening) at work with the other scientists trying to find a solution to the fleet's problem. The work was frustratingly slow, but he couldn't expect human technology from this time period to match up to Time Lord technology.

A loud thud and then a snap caught his attention and his head snapped up, shaking him out of his thoughts. What in Kasterborous was that? His steps quickened and he dashed toward the sounds, skidding to a halt when he found Francœur face down on the side of the street, looking very much like he was in incredible pain.

He wasn't really familiar with the man's -- bug's? -- species, other than being a giant flea. Surely there was more to it than that. There usually was, but there was no time to find out. Francœur looked to be...was he moulting? Had he done that before? If he had, the Doctor had never heard about it.

The Doctor knelt next to the writhing bug, looking a bit embarrassed that he's a hell of a lot more in the dark than he normally is. "Do you need any help, ah, Francœur, is it? I'm not exactly certain what I can do, but I can try."

[smallest]

The monster keened as he struggled to even look at this kind stranger. When he faced him, his eyes, usually vibrant with a glow were now dull and exhausted. His hand trembled with a terrible stiffness as he tried to point to the housings. He needed to be somewhere quiet and warm. His shoes scraped the ground as he struggled to get back on his feet. Numbness followed the tightening feeling. His legs no longer felt like his own and he stumbled a few times before he lurched to his feet.

The back of his suit bulged as he hunched over again. This was bad, he could not moult now or he would ruin his suit! He reached for his scarf and pawed at it with his stiff hands. Somehow, he managed to loosen it though he tangled it around his arm.

[beforethewar]

Poor fellow. The Doctor reached out and caught Francœur as best he could without further hurting him, which didn't seem like an easy task at all. He peered out in the direction the giant bug pointed and carefully pulled him to his feet with a grunt of effort.

"Home, alright," the Doctor nodded, starting the slow trek down the street, "You just sort of...perhaps...lean in the direction you need to go and I'll get you there. It might be slow going, but we'll manage."

Hopefully before the poor man...bug...person collapsed again.

[smallest]

Though he let the man hold onto him, Francœur was hesitant to lean any weight against him. He was very large, after all, and he did not want to hurt him. He hummed to show his appreciation, but the sound came out a little pained. Now that he was on his feet again, he managed to scrape up enough energy to start walking. Though his housing was not much further, it felt like an agonising journey.

On the way there, he dipped one shoulder and then the other to wiggle out of his coat. By the time they reached his door, his whole body was trembling as he used all the strength he had left to stay upright. He just managed to open it when he fell inside. He purposely pulled himself away so he would not drag the man with him.

He struggled to get his fingers around the buttons of his vest. Large, dull eyes looked at the man in a silent cry for help. The trousers could probably stay on but he needed the shirt and vest off. Already there was a small tear at the collar of his vest. Repairable, but it definitely would not last if he kept it on. It might even hurt him if he tried to moult with it in the way.