.: Main .: NRBC Index .: Shivuez Clouds Index .: Independent Agency Index .: Fun Stuff
	.: Djiikamonabi :. Name: Djiikamonabi ID: EU133M Gender: Male Rank: Script Writer Breed: Canine Type: Mix (Mystery/Figment) Mutations: None Accessories: Black Mask .: Mischief on the Horizon :. "Djiik!" Came a sudden, piercing call, resonating down the empty allies behind the Euclides Theatre. A lone figure, canine in appearance, ducked out from behind a trash bin. It hesitated, seeming torn between the instincts of fight or flight. "Djiik!" The shrill cry sounded again, and the canine winced, his ears flattening against his muscled neck. Suddenly, his whole form blurred as his body shifted into motion, sprinting down the length of the ally away from the calling voice -- THWAP! went Djiikamonabi, and without any warning whatsoever he found himself flat on his back, pinned by something large and heavy. A something that was made even larger and heavier by its apparent anger at first being ignored, and then being run into. "Djiikamonabi!" The something was, in fact, a very pissed off Ibkaea, resplendent in a tattered piece of bright red fabric that had been thrown across her back. "What," she began, tossing her head so that the fabric fell down onto the script writer's prone form, "is THIS?" Djiik clambered to his feet, picking up the fabric and revealing it to be a very tattered red dress. It looked, in fact, as if it had been burst out of from the inside, Alien-style. The canine cleared his throat, then began speaking in a college-aged voice: "I've never seen this before in my life! I don't know what you're getting at, but I most definitely did not ruin this dress." He shook himself, as if to gather his dignity, and let the dress fall to the ground. "If you're accusing me of cross-dressing, you have the wrong Euclides. Ask someone else. Like Jareth." He began to walk away, grinning to himself. Ibkaea spluttered a few times, then recovered, leaping gracefully to intercept Djiik, who just as gracefully went "EHEEeeEEee!" "I did ask Jareth already, thankyouverymuch!" She steamed. "It seems that you, my dear Djiik, were leaving my theatre with something red clutched in your jaws! What do you think, that I'm stupid? No, don't answer that." She held up a paw. "I don't mind that you tried it on. But the next time you rip something that belongs in MY theatre, YOU had better replace it!" Now it was Djiik's time to splutter. "I--I--I do not cross-dress! In the name of all that is tasty, woman, do you really think that I'm that kind of man?" Ibkaea took about a second to look the yellow-swirled Euclides up and down before replying, "Yes." Djiik blushed purple-red. "Well, that's just your opinion! I don't swing that way! Tell Jareth or Jumathos or whomever put you up to this that I will NOT have buttsecks with them, and I don't care what they told you to say to that!" He tossed his head, sniffed, and walked right past a smirking Ibkaea to head further down the alley. Ibkaea turned and shouted after him, "You still have to get me a new dress!" Djiik stopped in his tracks, spinning to reveal the anger in his eyes. "I don't CARE about your stupid dress! It's not even my fault that it's that freaking fragile! How could I have known that you never spend a penny more than you have to on costumes!?" He paused then, taking a moment to realize what he had said. Then, his ears lowered, his posture slumped, and he very quietly moaned, "Shiiiit." Then he turned, slipped behind a dumpster, and was gone, leaving a broadly grinning Ibkaea in his wake.