Ruffles' Side Jobs Ch. 02: 'Hugo

Hugo takes ragged steps towards her, his hands outstretched like a horny zombie. He pants heavily, his physical form exhausted, but his lust drove all reason out. Ruffles shrieks suddenly as the familiar symptoms of a transformation began, however, his outreached arm pulling back violently. First, his bones started to crack, and twist, folding back in on themselves as he lets out an atrocious scream, begging to keep his humanity. "No! I'm not done! Don't you fucking dare, I've got so much to do!" He pleads, practically turned inside out as his flesh morphs, folding, and squishing in until it resembled something like what she had first seen -- A little frog, roughly the size of her hands. It falls from where he was standing, between her legs, and the little creature lay on its back as if deceased.

Ruffles barely allows herself to catch her breath, her immediate concern the little frog. Worried, she leans over the edge of the sofa, reaching out to prod him. "H-Hugo...? I didn't kill you again, did I?!" She asks, immediately dropping her fear for concern. The little frog turns over, groaning, exhaustion on it's face.

"What the fuck..." It mutters in a low, tired groan. "That bitch... That fowl bitch... Ruffles, I'm so sorry, I couldn't... I couldn't control myself..." He starts, panting. He points over to his little crate house, requesting a cigarette with a two-fingered hand gesture. Ruffles hurriedly obliges, though sticky and exhausted, she could still manage to walk a few steps and light one up for the frogman. He takes it, drawing deeply from it. Almost immediately rejuvenated, the little creature leans up, wheezing.

He spends a moment looking over his form, considering what just happened. He stares back up apologetically. "I think the curse isn't just the frog... That woman... Heh, course she did. Ruffles, I get my human body back, but... I can literally only think with my dick. She always says I was too horny for my own good, but this? This is twisted." He comments, looking over his goblin companion. "What the fuck have I done to you? You're not hurt, right? By Flurbenshnycle's bones, I didn't-"

"It's alright!" Ruffles replies with surprising enthusiasm. "I'll live." She chuckles, picking up the little frog as she trudges towards the pool of cool water by the overgrown underpass, slowly descending into it. She steps in, until the waters reach her chest, holding Hugo just above the shimmering water. It was extremely soothing on her sore muscles, and she gave a little smile to reassure him. "You're crazy! But, it was pretty fun! Nothing Ruffles couldn't handle." She proclaims, giving a confident little smirk.

"You're somethin' else..." Hugo starts, in disbelief that she can just bounce back from that. "It was like I was on the edge; you know? Never satisfied, but in a pretty extreme state of mind... Fuck, man, that wasn't worth it at all. Clarity is one thing, but this? It's like I was spectating myself from the outside looking in. That isn't me. Not all the time, anyway. Don't get me wrong, I'm an animal in bed, but that is too far."

Ruffles just plants a fingertip on Hugo's lips, trying to shush him. "It's okay! Really. I didn't mind, at all. Though maybe you should stay a frog for a bit, heh. Don't want you goin' all wild like that again. As fun as it was, I mean." She grins gleefully, a resilient, brave look that shows the little goblin had more that meets the eye. Hugo saw it, in that moment, that she was a lot tougher than she let on. Hugo nods, puffing on his cigarette once more before tipping the ashes carelessly into the fresh water. He seems relieved for a moment, before his eyes open wide in sudden realization.

"Shit, Ruffles! I wasn't even thinking, I could have got you knocked up then and there! Your kids can't have a fuckin' frog for a dad! That's insane! I can't raise kids! I did a bad enough job of helping the captain out with his!" He panics, though Ruffles doesn't seem nearly as concerned as him, laughing at his crisis.

"It's okay, Hugo! My friend mixed up a little potion for me. I don't have to worry about that stuff, as long as I take one every month!" She proclaims, Hugo raising a slimy eyebrow.

"You know an alchemist? Seriously? Like, on friendly terms?" He asks, leaning in close in intrigue.

"Yeah! Her name is Poelle La Pelle! She's another goblin, but, she's one of the only real healers in Spyt! People from all over the region come to ask for her help. She's usually pretty busy, but, she'll always make time for me! We go way back!" She explains, clearly passionate about her friend. Hugo looks excited, almost, as he throws his cigarette in the water.

"She might be able to help!" He proclaims, hopping up onto Ruffles' head. "She might know an actual solution, hah! Maybe she can brew up something to deal with this! Or reverse the polymorph somehow! Anything'l help at this point!" He yells, pointing behind Ruffles. "Alright, kid, we've got a lead! Let's head there as soon as possible!"

Ruffles giggles at his enthusiasm, but she pauses as she uses one hand to scrub her face. "After all that? I don't think so. I could sleep for a week!" She comments, yawning as she finishes washing herself off, splashing the water all over her body. She unties her hair, dunking her head in as she runs her fingers through it, shaking her head as water splashes all over. Hugo manages to hop to safety in time, watching her bathe, the cool water dripping from her flesh. He might not have the libido of his equally cursed human form, but he could still appreciate the finer things, like watching the green shortstack bathe herself.

Ruffles waddles ashore, her drying method more resembling a wet dog than a dignified woman, staring at the couch that was banged into disrepair. "Well... I can't exactly sleep on that. I guess I could buy an inn room with my new coin!" She yells, smiling. "And breakfast!" She starts, imagining the luxury food items she could afford -- Quality sausages, whole hams, steamed fish... Her imagination goes wild, when in reality she could probably rent out a mid-range inn for a night with a slightly above-average breakfast.

"Alright! Far better digs than this shithole. I only came here cuz it looked quiet, but I cannot stress how much a change of scenery is needed." He says, hopping over to his little box crate. "Alright, let me get my thing." He says, starting to pack. He crawls inside, grabbing the medical scalpel he had used as a hunting utensil, and carries it with him. He looks around as Ruffles dresses herself, and spots her guitar. "You play well?"

"Yeah! Well, a lot of people come to my shows, so I think so!" Ruffles replies, though the music is not usually the reason for her popularity. Hugo examines it for a second, the guitar covered in crude etchings -- One done by Ruffles herself, though she had spelled her name 'Ruffels', and had to cross out the e and l to swap them out above. There was also a cock, squirting across the length of the instrument, some boobs crudely scribbled in that more resembled eyeballs, and more vulgar, scratchy imagery. "An artist. too?"

"Um... No, I didn't draw all of these. Sometimes I woke up and they were just... There?" She explains, pointing out her name as the only one she had written. Hugo thinks for a moment as she dresses herself, pulling on her torn leggings that barely constituted a functional piece of clothing, and her tight cloth bikini shirt precariously wrapped around her bosom. Hugo scrapes the wood with his scalpel, figuring out what he wanted to etch into the battered instrument. He ended up with an arrow pointing to the central sound hole, the words underneath simply read 'HUGO'S HOLE', in remarkably neat writing - at least next to 'Ruffels' - and he crawls underneath the strings to sit snugly inside.

"I mean, can't expect you to carry me around everywhere. This'll work! Could do with a chair, or a cushion or something, but It'll do for now. Alright, Ruffles, inn time?" He asks, his voice amplified by the acoustics of the guitar. Ruffles nods, tying up her wet hair in her usual style, in a thick bun at the back with two longer sections dangling down in front of each ear, reaching her chest, which she would usually tie up. Ruffles picks up her guitar, and grasps her coin firmly in her hand, ready to continue her journey -- To visit Poelle, her friend, the alchemist. Somehow, after all of that, she had completely forgotten about the hole in her pants once again. At least the heat seems to have subsided. For now.