Who are you and what have your planet's people done with the real Shen?

[nomen_est_numen]

[action]

[Anyone who's known Shen for more than, oh, say, thirty seconds, would never expect to see him doing what he's doing, now.

He's in a perfume store. That isn't the strange bit. The strange bit is that he's assembling shelves. He's been sweeping and assembling shelves and re-stocking merchandise all day. Y'see, someone spotted that that giant bird EVO was him--kind of hard not to, with that colour scheme--and called him out on it. And he agreed to fix whatever he could fix.

One might wonder if he's feeling well or got another blow to the head or if someone's holding his feather-conditioning powder hostage.

One could ask...]

Comments

[nomen_est_numen]

[At this, Shen cackles a truly villainous cackle. My, that felt strangely good. Maybe this is just what he needed to start feeling better--a rivalry!]

Oh, my dear boy, you haven't seen 'machinations,' yet! She won't even know you exist by the time I've finished!

[trustycrowbar]

Oh, I doubt that! I haven't even started yet, and I already see her every day. We have more in common than you could possibly hope for! Trust me, all the premeditation and fancy plumage of yours isn't going to mean a damn thing!

[He punctuates that with a flippant brush of the bottled feather.]

[nomen_est_numen]

Oh, yes, and how long will it be before you can actually speak to her about something other than work? A tongue-tied boy is no match for hundreds of years of superior culture!

[How d'you like that, laddie-me-buck? He ... looks about for something to flick at in response, loses the moment, and then quickly reaches out and flicks at the feather, himself.]

[trustycrowbar]

Fh... at least I'LL be working without a script! Which're you going to start with first, the book of outdated poems, or that weird-ass lute? She's smarter than you think; she'll see right through your fifth-century edition of Romance for Dummies.

[nomen_est_numen]

Why, d'you honestly think you have sufficient imagination to freestyle this sort of thing? Or d'you plan to let the numbers do the talking for you?

[trustycrowbar]

[His lunch is well and truly forgotten by now. He leans back again, crossing an ankle over a knee.]

Welp, you got me! That's the whole extent of my plan! It'll be the two of us, murmuring equations at each other over candlelight.

[nomen_est_numen]

I'm just going to assume that that's exactly what you're going to do and proceed on my merry way toward winn--

"Ey! EY! Monsieur le Paon!"

[Shen breaks off in mid-sentence, beak open, feather-finger in the air. He turns to regard the small, irate Frenchwoman stomping across the ruined street]

Madam, you are interrupting an important exchange! There are dire things at stake heeeaaaaaagh...

[This last occurs because she reaches out and grabs his feather crest, pulling him back toward the shop.]

"Oiseau paresseux! You 'ave feeneesh when I say you 'ave feeneesh! You can argeu over le fille later!"

[Shen makes a definite 'this isn't over' gesture at Gordon before he's pulled back into the building.]

[trustycrowbar]

[He watches the exchange, and snickers before he calls after the retreating peacock.]

--don't worry, Shen! We'll continue this later! Hell, drop enough boxes of perfume on your head and YOU MIGHT EVEN GET A CLUE!

[Then he sits back... and starts on a long meandering path in figuring out just what the hell he's gotten himself into.]