[Ohhh boy. That didn't sound good - none of it sounded good - but Morph also didn't quite understand what the yokai wanted. Morph could guess that this was a 'take to me to your leader' situation, but in that case they couldn't tell him what he wanted to know regardless of if torture was going to happen or not. If they had any idea what was going on, they wouldn't be stuck here in the first place.]
Comics and pillars? Are you nuts? Look, I obviously can't give you what you want, and this just isn't my thing. It's not me this time, it's definitely you.
[And with that, Morph rapidly starts to shrink.
It's the tiniest form they've ever tried to take, as anything smaller than the cat was something that they normally shied away from doing - but if anything qualified as an emergency, this was it. They push themselves to do it, fighting against the fatigue, until they become a little white mouse that could fit in the palm of someone's hand.
Immediately they burst forward with panicked squeaks, attempting to slip past the chains. Their target is a crack in the floor, the crater they left behind earlier having ripped up parts of the carpet to expose jagged edges of plywood and the darkness beyond it.]
no subject
[Ohhh boy. That didn't sound good - none of it sounded good - but Morph also didn't quite understand what the yokai wanted. Morph could guess that this was a 'take to me to your leader' situation, but in that case they couldn't tell him what he wanted to know regardless of if torture was going to happen or not. If they had any idea what was going on, they wouldn't be stuck here in the first place.]
Comics and pillars? Are you nuts? Look, I obviously can't give you what you want, and this just isn't my thing. It's not me this time, it's definitely you.
[And with that, Morph rapidly starts to shrink.
It's the tiniest form they've ever tried to take, as anything smaller than the cat was something that they normally shied away from doing - but if anything qualified as an emergency, this was it. They push themselves to do it, fighting against the fatigue, until they become a little white mouse that could fit in the palm of someone's hand.
Immediately they burst forward with panicked squeaks, attempting to slip past the chains. Their target is a crack in the floor, the crater they left behind earlier having ripped up parts of the carpet to expose jagged edges of plywood and the darkness beyond it.]