Monster Mash! - Lemonade Monster

Cold. That's the sensation Razz wakes to. At first Razz thinks the nip he's feeling is from him not insulating his den that well. Ah, no matter, he thinks, I need more branches anyways. Air rolls across his skin like chilly fingers. That's his first clue that something isn't right. Upon cracking open an eye, he's greeted by thin, coarse hair with no feathers nor nay kind of undercoat. His haunches look wrong too. Simultaneously too thick and too long. 

That wakes him up. He tries to stand and instead knocks dirt from between the boards of his roof. 

How?!

Razz has to belly crawl out of his own den like a newborn cub. When he gets to the entrance he's very glad he hasn't put a door in yet. As he works on getting hsi body out he tries to take stock on his situation. 

It's out of season for Darhaskos' usual pranks. My body feels long, my legs are long and round. I don't think I have feathers anymore. 

He turns his head at that thought, and realizes his neck is very long,and very flexible. He can see his entire back now, and the last bit of his body wriggling out of his den. Razz truly is long, his body like a weird, scraggly haired, scaleless snake. With weird legs. They almost look like human's. But not. At least his coloring is more or less the same. He turns his head around, and feels how his jaws are different. Longer. Thicker. Especially his lower jaw. 

When he scratches at it with very human fingers tipped with what feels like his usual claws, his mind shorts itself. Something about that makes his skin crawl. 

An idea takes shape as he pulls that last of himself out from his den (how did he even fit with how long he is??). 

Here in Kohtos' horns there's a village nearby. Not very big, but they do have a well maintained and sheltered dock. Frequent travelers. He smiles, and he feels his lips curl up past his eyes.

Razz creeps into the port village, using the length and eeriness of his body to full effect. He allows this shape to contort and flex showing just how monstrous he is currently. He looks up at the sun, and finds a spot to wait for nightfall behind an old warehouse that smells like fish, waterlogged wood, and stale spices. Still, people come and go, and he takes every opportunity to be spooky. A rattle here, clanging of chains there. His tail tapers off into a whip from the corded mass it starts as, making it perfect for whipping around to hit things and not be seen. 

Well. Seen easily.

A familiar face sees him, looks at him, recognizes his colors, and just sighs, shaking his head. Fed up with Razz's shenanigans, clearly.

But, he doesn't rat him out, either.  No one else sees him until nightfall, after which he creeps out. Stalking around modest buildings, and making his way to the inn and the tavern where many sailors and travelers can be found. He bides his time, making noises here and there. Not enough to cause alarm, but enough to put people on edge. A group of locals mixed with newcomers makes their way to the ravern, talking amongst themselves with some good natured jostling. The man from before looks over into the overhanging shadows, and speaks louder than usual.

"Sure's going to be a great night, folks. First round's on me," his words are greeted with cheers. 

Then, Razz swears the man winks in his general direction. Well, he has some information to mull over how to utilize. 

Wait for them to get drunk? Yeah. Yeahhhhh!

It doesn't take long for the sounds from inside to reach a pitch that tells him many people are very drunk. He uncoils and starts to get to work. First, he crawls up onto the shingles roof, carefully mind, and uses his tail to rattle the shutters under him.

Silence.

Cautious voices again. Someone mentions the scent of lemons. He doesn't know what that's about, it's certainly odd. Maybe they broke into a citrusy brew?

He shifts his weight, making the timbers groan. Shouting from inside, and a certain voice calling for the roof to be checked, for there are beasts. Razz arches his back, making his best "monstrous" pose as he sprawls across the roof. The first few people trial out, looking, not seeing him. Then, someone notices. Face turns ashen, stammers, stumbles.

"B-b-beast!" they shout before running down the street.

Definitely not a local.

Razz stands, again with great care, and pulls his lips up in that unnaturally wide smile, the shaggy coarse fur on his topside bristling making his exposed underbelly even more foreign, and his multiple sets of ears like icing. He licks his lips.

"Your merrymaking has given me a thirst. Bring me some ale," he says, rasping.

Someone rushes inside, shouts for an entire barrel of ale. It's brought out with a haste that lamsot makes him feel bad. Almost. The sweet honeyed ale smells delicious.Razz reaches down with his tail to grab it (he can seriously get used to this, it's like having an extra hand). He pries the lid off with his teeth and allows the lid to fall to the ground. Despite his mosntrous appearance, he still drinks it with care, not wanting the sticky mess to worry about later as much as sloshing it would be fun.

"Is that enough, o beast?" a man says, a twinkle in his eye despite the gravity in his voice.

"Mmmm, another," Razz rasps. 

This barrel is brought out faster, and the lid removed for him. How thoughtful! This one he savors. Enjoying the complexity of it, before setting both barrels onto the stones with his tail. He makes a show of lickign his lips, showing off how unsettlingly wide his mouth is, how his lips go past his eyes on his skull. Someone faints. 

"Your offerings are appreciated. Tokens of thanks will be on the village's edge come morn," he says, before slinking off.

By the time he reaches the edge, the man is there again, "quite the show you put on there. Did you mean it about leaving thanks?"

"I did, those barrels are on the pricey side," Razz says quietly.

"Good. When did you learn this shape?" he asks.

At this Razz shrugs, "I didn't. I woke up like this, but I can feel the magic fading now. I wanna sleep the rest of it off."

"Haha! And the ale. Well, you're a good toa. If you're hungover come dawn, you owe me," he barks.

"It's a deal, I won't keep you longer, they'll be wondering and looking," Razz says, already eharing voices calling for the man.

by the time Razz reache shis den he can feel the effects of the alcohol. Regardless, he grabs for his coin purse and a plain looking sack. He puts in more than he itneded into the bag, makes the trek back to town, leaving it on a large stone on the edge of the village. For good measure he arranges some braided grasses around the bag. Then he goes to sleep off his hangover, both magical and common.