[Sorry to whoever wakes up next to this man, because you're probably going to wake up to him flailing and flapping around in the sheets. Finally, he ends up sprawled on the floor, staring at his own hands like he hasn't seen anything like them before. He glances around, frantically opening and closing his mouth before staring at the other person and making a gesture like he's writing. He doesn't seem to have noticed the wrist-radio available yet.]
Food(?) (cw: mild ableism)
[Louis has mostly figured out how to use the text-to-speech function now, and right now he's standing in front of his front door holding a horrible-looking gelatin monstrosity in both hands and trying to nod politely at the Robbie who just handed it over, trying to shove it back at them. Said Robbie is talking in a somewhat loud, slowed-down fashion.]
[After the Robbie is finally dispatched, he stands there for a bit more before shifting it to one hand and tapping out a quick message on his wrist radio.]
Humans eat this?
Untitled Monster Game
[Louis doesn't have his large wings or sharp beak anymore, but he can still improvise. You might find him outside his front door, swatting at a ghost with a broom, or using the other end of said broom to jab at a squad of zombie children that are trying to swarm him. Of course, if he sees anyone in trouble, it's likely he'll also hurry over to help, doing the best he can with what he's got.]
Louis | The Trumpet of the Swan
[Sorry to whoever wakes up next to this man, because you're probably going to wake up to him flailing and flapping around in the sheets. Finally, he ends up sprawled on the floor, staring at his own hands like he hasn't seen anything like them before. He glances around, frantically opening and closing his mouth before staring at the other person and making a gesture like he's writing. He doesn't seem to have noticed the wrist-radio available yet.]
Food(?) (cw: mild ableism)
[Louis has mostly figured out how to use the text-to-speech function now, and right now he's standing in front of his front door holding a horrible-looking gelatin monstrosity in both hands and trying to nod politely at the Robbie who just handed it over, trying to shove it back at them. Said Robbie is talking in a somewhat loud, slowed-down fashion.]
It's-fine-Mister-Louis. Your-wife-shouldn't-have-to-cook-all-the-time!
[After the Robbie is finally dispatched, he stands there for a bit more before shifting it to one hand and tapping out a quick message on his wrist radio.]
Humans eat this?Untitled Monster Game
[Louis doesn't have his large wings or sharp beak anymore, but he can still improvise. You might find him outside his front door, swatting at a ghost with a broom, or using the other end of said broom to jab at a squad of zombie children that are trying to swarm him. Of course, if he sees anyone in trouble, it's likely he'll also hurry over to help, doing the best he can with what he's got.]