ALL HE desired was to turn into a bulldog and go find somewhere akin to a nice abode then shortly after take a nice nap. But this posed merely as a fragmented scenario as this was no longer an option which was viable. Features of his own manifested into a distinctive pout, eyebrows pinching together in concentration-- yet like all the other attempt, he had no luck. His powers were really gone, it felt so unnerving to feel somewhat helpless.
Though, there really was no danger in the city in the first place, so this helplessness wasn’t something necessarily bad. Unless he would summon danger upon himself, which he wasn’t a particularly a fan of. Nonetheless the male continued to pave his way through the city, it was a surprise itself that he hadn’t found himself lost as of this moment. Eventually fatigue would overwhelm him as his footsteps subsequently became heavier by the second. Letting out a sigh of defeat, he deterred from his initial motive and resided aloft a nearby ledge.
Everything was going perfectly until a cone of ice-cream fell and slathered onto his treasured pants. He allowed a moment or two to take in what just happened-- while he wasn’t necessarily the hostile type, these pants were the single pair he managed to actually like. On the verge of raising his own voice to file a verbal complaint, only to perceive the sight of a woman-- no, the sight of Piper, gazing sheepishly at him whilst grasping an empty cone.
Frank gave a disapproving look before he began lecturing his old-time friend. ❝McLean! You, of all people, know that I’m lactose-intolerant! Yet you still managed to drop ice-cream on me regardless of being aware of this very important information...! And these were my favorite pair of pants too!❞
