The Irreverant, Irregular, and Ridiculous (DragonSong!)

[Aleron]

As Michael lept up onto the stone sidewalk,he muttered "Fine," and quickly slid into another alley.

[DragonSong]

Puck raised his eyebrows in momentary surprise, then grinned. He hadn't expected Michael to cave. Following him into the alley, he wrapped an arm around the young man from behind and shifted shape, settling himself around his neck comfortably.

Feeling playful, he tilted his head up and twitched his whiskers under Michael's ear, trying to provoke a reaction.

[Aleron]

Michael reemerged into the street, brushing off his coat before slipping into the store. The door opened with a ring.
"Oh hello, Michael!" An old man called from behind a wooden counter.
"'Morning!" Michael said as he curtly descended a step into the store. Shelves and racks held different types of clothing, ranging from breetches to coats to dresses and more.
Reginald stood, straightening his spectacles, and waddled over to greet Michael.
"How may I help you today?"
"I'm just looking around for a hood. Maybe a whole cape, if you have one."
"Oh, son, I've stopped making capes after the tragedy that happened to the poor Gensterblum girl last summer, don't you know that. Bad luck, capes are. But a hood, I'd be glad to sell you! Did you have anything in mind?"
"Eh, whatever you have, really."
Reginald smiled brightly and gestured for Michael to follow. He began to show him his selection when a door slammed open at the back of the store, causing both their heads to jerk up.
A woman with wild red hair burst out of the doorwahx dramatically exploding into the room. She stopped, pressed her lips together, and frowned as she stared into nothingness. A second later her gaze looked up at them.
"Good Afternoon!" She said, and scurried over to Reginald, planting a kiss on his cheek. She waved at Michael, and then seperstely to the weasel—Puck—that he wore on his shoulder."
"Ohhh!!" She cried out. "I love that guinea pig skin on your shoulders! It is quite the fashionable!"

[DragonSong]

Puck jerked his head up, chittering indignantly. Guinea pig? Skin? He uncurled himself from Michael's neck to perch on his shoulder, rising up onto his hind legs and shouting obscenities at this strange new comer.

If she had been able to speak Pine Martin, she would have been very offended.

[Aleron]

Reginald recoiled with a shout from the now-animated fur scarf Michael was wearing. Michael cringed, but the woman, a young girl who lived in fhd town named Leslie, did not flinch. If anything, she leaned in closer.
"Your scarf is alive!" She shouted. Reginald, who always had been kind to Michael, still was offput by furry creeping things. He wailed anxiously as he ran into the back room.
Michael sighed exhasperstedly, baring his teeth in hidden notion at Leslie, but the  girl simply smiled sweetly, looking up innocently and bouncing on one foot.
"Leslie," Michael whined.
"What, and that's not Puck, is it?"

[DragonSong]

Puck stopped his tirade, glancing back and forth between the two humans. Then he gave a slinky sort of shrugged and jumped to the ground, becoming human the instant before his feet touched the floor.

"Guilty," he said with a lopsided smile, crossing his arms and rocking back onto his heels.

[Aleron]

Michael groaned.
"What?" Leslie asked. "I can recognize that ferret from ten gallons away."
She turned on her heel and faced Puck, her arm shooting forward.
"I've seen you around but I haven't introduced myself properly!"
She grabbed hand and shook it vigorously. "I'm called Leslie! What do you call yourself?"

(OOC: you can control Leslie, too, if you want! Just make sure she's incredibly odd and random and that should do the trick!)

[DragonSong]

"Just Puck, usually," the fae creature said with a bemused smile. "Though I suppose you could call me Tarren, if you must." He extracted his hand and eye the girl curiously.

"She doesn't seem quite...normal," he said to Michael bluntly, though he was still smiling at her.

In his book, not normal meant not boring. And not boring was a very good thing.

[Aleron]

"Well! I never!" Leslie gasped, and folded her arms. A moment later, she looked pack at Puck.
"Charmed," she said with a wry smirk. It was enough to unsettle even the toughest man. She popped her eyebrow and slunk down to a crouch, keeping a constant glare on Puck as she fell backward and under a tablecloth.
Michael chuckled nervously, mouthing words of apologizes to Puck as he bent over and looked under the table. As he'd expected, it was empty.
He sighed in exhasperation. "She'll show up soon enough," he said, standing back up.

[DragonSong]

"She was fun," Puck said, boosting himself up onto the table and kicking his feet absently. "I liked her."

He looked around innocently. "Seems the old man has disappeared. Why don't we just take a hood and leave?" He knew Michael would never steal, but it was awfully fun to tease him about it.

[Aleron]

Michael pressed his lips together glared at Puck, the edges of mouth curling upward.
"No, but I wish I could," he said. He sighed and walked out the door, waiting for Puck to follow.
Outside, the fog had loosened a little; the faint smell of smoke began to waft around the air from chimneys being lit as the morning rolled on.
Michael slowly swaggered down the sidewalk, his hands clasped behind his back. He whistled a quick tune, before spotting the familiar, old, and plump woman who briskly waltzed down the sidewalk opposite. She spotted him and hastened her stride. He could amost hear her struggled 'Ooff!'s as she excitened. Her face flushed.
Michael cringed, biting his lip as he peeled away and back into the store. He kept his gaze in her direction, keeping an eye to see if she'd follow him.
Suddenly, he crashed into something solid. He gasped SBD fumbled backwards, and realized he'd slammed right into Leslie. He jabbed his finger in front of his lips, and then reached out the door hastily and grabbed a fistfull of Puck's tunic, yanking him inside. The door closed with a ding

[DragonSong]

"Why are we hiding?" Puck asked quietly. He arched an eyebrow. "Is it the old lady? Hello again, by the way," he said to Leslie, nodding and giving her a charming grin.

"Should I scare her off?" he offered. He hadn't properly scared anyone in ages, that should be fun.

[Aleron]

"Oh, hello!" Leslie said, waving and grinning widely. "Shhh!" Michael barked.
"What?" Leslie asked, covering her heart. "Not talking won't do anything. We'd better hide, so she doesn't see us."
Michael groaned but gave in, and Leslie led them to the corner, behind a rack of blue stained shirts.
"No," Michael said to Puck. "She's probably mad at me for what I did last night. I scared one of the neighbor's cats, and it barreled into the building. Probably broke something."
He strained his neck above the clothing rack. There was no sign of Miss Pettigrew, thank the gods. But that didn't mean there wouldn't be.

[DragonSong]

"A cat?" Puck repeated incredulously. "She looks mad as hellfire over a cat's broken nose?"

He glanced over at Leslie and frowned. "How did you get here, by the way? I usually make a point to be the only one who can just appear and disappear like that in any given group of people."

[Aleron]

Leslie hooted mischeviously. She chortled and poked Puck's lips with her finger. "Secret tunnels," she purred with a wink. Michael groaned and stiffled a snort. Leslie recoiled and suddenly became fascinated with the seamwork of a shirt.
"Eh," Michael said to Puck. "She and half of the ladies in the estate depend on them for basic function. She'll probably have another fit, and then storm off muttering fancy insults like always."
He chuckled.

[DragonSong]

Puck's eyes widened slightly at Leslie's actions, then he smirked. She was quite pretty, he supposed, despite her oddness. Funny he hadn't noticed before.

He gave a soft snort of laughter at Michael's assessment of the situation. "So how long do you think we'll have to hide then?" he asked quietly.

[Aleron]

"Who knows, really. She's like a hawk,"
In the background, Leslie said, "Sometimes its a doggy dog world out there" to what Michael could only assume was a spider.
He bit his lip and twirxhed his mouth like a mouse. He'd just tell her he'd be careful next time. 'It'll never happen again' he could already hearing himself say. He pictured her popmtuous snort vividly.
"She'll find me anyways, tonight," he muttered. He stood and swiveled his torso, cracking his back. "Might as well get it done now!"

[DragonSong]

"I'm right behind you," Puck told him cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, you know...not right behind you, but I've got your back." He grinned. "From slightly further away. So she can't yell at me."

[Aleron]

Michael laughed and hesitantly made his way to the door. He paused a moment, his hand resting on the handle. He peered out the glass window. Miss Pettigrew, adorned in her fur finery and hair coiled around her head in a tight bun, stomped  down the sidewalk. She stopped in the square and slowly scanned around her for signs of the young man, her hands on her hips. Michael snorted at her posture, which reminded him of a buzzard.
With a jump and awful smile, her eyes met his through the window and she immediately began her march to the building. Michael opened the door for her, and gave a quaint, shallow bow.
"Good morning," he said, and smiled sweetly.
"Good morning," Miss Pettigrew hissed in return. She glared at him. "I'm surprised at your pleasantries, Camps. Such a child usuay never has manners like that."
"Goodness!" Leslie cried in the background.
Michael raised his eyebrow.
"I'll make it quick," the old woman said. Her eyes beamed maleficently from behind her upturned nose, and the view of her chin was marvelously nauseating.
"You—"
"I'm sorry for harming the cat," Michael inturrupted. Miss Pettigrew gasped. "It will never happen again, I'll be more careful. And the rent will be on your doorstep in two days, I guarantee."
"I'm afraid that won't be necessary," the old woman purred. Her voice squawkedas she spoke.
"Mr. Camps, you are no longer welcome in Pettigrew's Public House. Your shennanigans have lasted too long. Please have your things packed today; I expect you to be gone by tonight. Leave your key under the doormat when you leave."
With that, Miss Pettigrew spun on a coin and waltzed out the door. It closed with the bright ring of a bell.
Michael gaped at the door, and found himself speechless. He tried to speak but his throat gagged itself, rendering him silent.

[DragonSong]

Puck watched the exchange from a safe distance, eyebrows rising higher and higher as the vulture-woman continued to talk.

He let out a low whistle as she swept away, stepping to Michael's side. "Hey." He put his hand on his shoulder, a little hesitantly. His only real method of comforting people was making them laugh, and he wasn't quite sure how to do that in this situation.

"You, uh...you okay?" he asked awkwardly. He glanced over at Leslie, shrugging helplessly. Crazy she may be, but she was more human than he was- she'd probably be better at this than him.