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Island of Moreau Vice Captain
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 Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 4:29 pm
Its that feeling that's become disconcertingly familiar, though, if you're truly lucky, it will be the last time. The tingly feeling in your limbs, and the tightening feeling in your chest. Change was coming. When you wake up in the morning, your arm is sore from the puncture wound and you knows it bound to happen. Though yours is not as bad as some, its never a pleasant experience. Over the course of an hour or two your body amasses more weight, big, fluffy folds of insulating fat tissue. Your hair grows in thicker than ever before; it's plush and shiny, nearly waterproof. Your spine curves a bit, making your human stance a bit more awkward, though you can still walk upright on your hind legs. Your feet get bigger, with ticker, more effective webbing. Your tail reaches its full length and strength, and the last big of face structure shifting into a more defined muzzle, large enough to house your large, ever growing front teeth. 
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Posted: Sat Jan 13, 2007 10:41 am
"Chana, bubullah, when's the wedding?" Grandmother Miriam asked.
Chana flushed a bit. "Well...we haven't set a date yet." It was the standard interrogation. Stewart was in the basement with the men, and she was in the living room with all of her female relatives who lived within an hour's travel.
"Stewart," Aunt Sarah mused, "that's not a Jewish name, is it?" She looked at Chana with her piercing gaze, the one that said I'm-not-going-to-let-any-of-you-forget-that-I'm-so-religious-I-married-an-Orthodox.
"Um...well...no," Chana admitted, quailing a bit under her aunt's direct stare.
"Then what is he?" Cousin Esther asked. She'd only been married for a couple years, and still had the mischevious smile Chana remembered from childhood on her face.
"He's...um...he's Catholic," she answered. This really wasn't how she'd imagined this conversation happening. Not that she didn't love Stewart, oh God she did, but she'd forgotten how her family would take it.
"Catholic!?" Aunt Sarah held a hand to her heart. "Are you trying to destroy the future of our faith?"
"Sarah, calm down," Grandmother Miriam ordered. "It's Chana's choice of who she wants to marry." But the worry in her voice about the currently non-existent children spoke volumes.
"And he's a priest," Chana added softly. At that the room fell dead silent. Every woman was staring at her. And then something changed in their gazes. No longer mere shock and surprise but...was that horror?
"Wh-what?" she tried to say. But she couldn't, because her teeth were growing and her fur was sprouting and there was Stewart racing in from the cellar and the same thing was happening to him and he tried to grab her hand--
--and then there was water between them, around them, beneath them, and she was trying to swim and he was on her raft, her wonderful raft from when they'd all been locked out of their duplexes, and the water was carrying him away--
--and there were fish in the water, lots of fish, and she tried to catch one and it got away and it bit her arm--
And then she woke up. Her heart was racing, her fur was damp with sweat, and her arm was sore--
Her arm was sore. Why did the simplest things have to be omens of ill to come?
"Screw it," the beaver muttered to herself, curling up under the covers once more. She was not feeling that great, she'd had a bad dream, it was one of those days when she just wasn't going to get out of bed.
She lay there, trying to ignore the way her body hurt, the way the covers seemed to strain more until her growing bulk undid the tidy way she'd made her bed. Tried to ignore the odd, somewhat prickly feeling of her fur coming in even thicker than before. She turned onto her other side and felt something strange going on with her spine and back as she curled up again. And then her feet...like growing pains, but less predictable. It was easier with her tail, because she could ignore that better, having never had one until a year ago.
The worst part was, by far, her face, and she wished she had gotten up long enough to find a sleeping pill. There was nothing worse than being conscious while her face was changing, bone structure and all The tears ran down, getting lost in her fur.
Then it was over. It was over and she'd survived once again.
"Screw you, world," she mumbled, and went back to sleep.
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Posted: Sat Jan 20, 2007 10:20 pm
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Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 3:10 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2007 7:47 am
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Posted: Thu Feb 22, 2007 8:58 pm
Chana meets Jordan Jordan had come down to the river that afternoon to relax in the water. He could have stayed on the beach to do that, but everytime he'd try to relax there, someone was there and it wasn't always pleasant interactions, except for the case of Awen, really.
All his new fur made wearing more than a pair of shorts out of the question and even then, it was uncomfortable. Jordan was self-conscious enough about what his last change had done to him, but he wasn't willing to walk around nude. He kept his shorts on even as he'd stepped his paws into the water's muddy bank.
The water in the river was cooler than the beach's water and that made him feel at ease. Anything to keep himself from having a heatstroke in this oppressive humidity. He was understanding how it felt to be a snow dog in Florida.. and it wasn't a fun experience. "Oh man..." he sighed with relief as the cool water rushed over his legs.
Chana was enjoying herself in the river, as usual. Yes, she was still unhappy about what Zach had said, but she could take out that agression easily on the fish. They had learned to fear her...but that only made her more pleased when she caught them.
She came up briefly for a breath and tossed the fish onto the bank where she'd left her clothes...what clothes she wore nowadays, which consisted mostly of a baggy shirt.
Then something white caught her eye a bit downriver. Curious, the beaver ducked under the surface again and approached whatever-it-was in safety.
He eased himself into the water, hissing a bit at how cold it felt against his double-coating of fur. Jordan hadn't bene fond of the tropical climate when he lived in Florida, but now that he was mostly coated in the Samoyed's multi-layers of fur, he enjoyed it even less. He was waist-deep in the water now and splashing water on his chest to acclimate to the temperature before fully submerging himself. His little tummy paws wiggled as the water splashed over them, making him roll his eyes a bit. They moved when his arms and legs moved and they responded to stimuli.
Jordan looked about him. Another advantage to the river was the shading provided by trees near the water's edge. He jumped everytime his tail hit the cool water, laughing at himself. He was happy to be here. Even if he'd already known that, his tail was certain to let him know with it's willful movements. It had a mind of its own after all.
Chana stopped short when the white thing - man - got into the water. For a moment she thought it was Stewart. Then she saw the...um...tummy paws. The incredibly creepy tummy paws.
Well, everyone knew the island was twisted. She couldn't hold him to blame for his appearance.
The beaver's head broke the surface once more several feet from Jordan. "Enjoying the water?" she asked politely, with the hint of a giggle in her voice. She found it difficult to sustain negative emotions, even if she was faintly disturbed by some things, when the beaver was able to swim and cavort in the water.
His ears twitched as he listened to the rolling water, but he also heard movement and assumed it was a fish or two. Jordan felt good here and always so naive to think that he's alone, despite knowing how many people inhabit the island, he felt less self-conscious for a fleeting moment. The Samoyed stretched his arms above his head, groaning happilly as his back arched and popped once or twice.
His arms fell forward, paws clasped together, flexing his claws. A grand smile crossed his face. Despite a few drawbacks here and there, the island had some nice places to hide from the world, referring to the population of subjects.
His ears twitched as he heard something swimming closer to him and then came the sound of breaking water, followed by a friendly greeting. Luckilly, he was far enough into the water that he hadn't fallen over. That would have been embarrassing and possibly offensive to act surprised. Instead, he turned towards the voice, spotting the beaver and smiled softly. "Oh hello. Why yes I am." he folded his arms across his wiggly smaller paws.
The beaver decided that she liked this guy. He didn't scare and he was polite. Two points in his book. She paddled a bit closer.
"I'm Chana," she offered. "It's always nice to relax in the water on a hot day...fish?" she asked, holding the trout she'd just caught out to the dog-man.
It was always a treat to meet someone new, especially someone so polite and happy. Maybe everyone on the island wouldn't hate him after all.
"I'm Jordan." he smiled from ear-to-ear, letting out a giggle as she eagerly offered up a fish. Of course, he accepted it politely and immediately sniffed at it. "Thank you very much, Chana." He'd overlooked his little paws in the moment of generosity as he took a nibble, ears perking up as it tasted good! "Mmmmmmmmmm..!"
Taking a bigger bite, and swallowing, his tail wagged, causing him to smile more brightly. "Oh yes, I need to cool off frequently when I step outside or I overheat quickly. The river is a lot cooler than the beach- and it has friendlier people." Jordan giggled.
Chana giggled. "That's very sweet of you, Jordan," the beaver replied, pleased that he had accepted the fish. Yet another point to him. He really was sweet...in a puppy dog kind of way.
"Ah...your fur must be rather thick then. I know how inconvenient that is," she added with feeling. It really was nice to meet new people who were friendly. That just made everything go so much smoother.
The dog part of him wanted to finish it as quickly as he could before anyone else could eat his trout, but Jordan fought that urge to gorge on the fish, eating it slowly and politely in such friendly company.
"It's Samoyed fur. They're cold-weather sled dogs with two coats of fur." Jordan shook his head and suddenly had the urge to sacratch under his left ear, closing his left eye as he smiled, leaning his head into the pleasurable scratching.
"Really? That's pretty neat, a sled-dog!" Chana exclaimed. Yes, she was a sucker for things like that. Balto was one of her favorite movies.
But it was faintly disturbing to see him give in so completely to the dog. Just...unsettling, especially since he didn't look like he'd finished changing yet.
"Come here often," she asked, trying to lead him away from her uncomfortable thoughts.
She found it more interesting than he did, that was for sure, but Jordan wasn't going to shoot down her enthusiasm. He'd finished scratching and shook his head again. It felt weird how his ears flapped against his head.
"I actually have only been by the river one other time, I think. This is my first swim here, though, and I'm glad I came out this way. I live out at the beach, so it was a bit of a walk. It still feels odd sometimes to walk without shoes, but I get over it." he added with a chuckle, rubbing his stomach. "That trout hit the spot."
He dunked himself under the surface dipping his face down first, coming up a few seconds later, wrinnging out his long, white-streaked hair. "Man, that feels so good!"
The beaver chuckled at his antics. "You can usually find me out here," she offered. "I fish almost every day."
She didn't ask about his living on the beach. But there was something about it that set off a warning bell.
"Well, it's nice to feel appreciated," she teased as he commented about the fish. He was so funny!
"I love swimming. Best excercise there is. That's why I liked the beach so much, but the river's so much cooler." he drifted a bit into a shadier spot and treaded water. "It's worth the walk out here and I like the excercise, so I'll have to start coming out here more often, if my company isn't a bother."
His tail wagged above the water as he let him float on his stomach. "You're one of the nicest people I've met and I don't make friends easily."
Chana shrugged. "Swimming's one of the best exercises that the majority of people can do, 'cause the water makes it easy even for a very heavy person to move."
"And your company's no bother at all, and it's certainly not my river, so of course you can (and should) come around more often."
The beaver splashed a bit as she considered what he'd said. "Well...I guess you must've met some of the less-friendly people here."
He kicked his hindpaws, propelling himself forward, slowly as he kept his head above water. His tummy paws.. were kicking too.. helping him swim? That felt so weird.
He kept on smiling. Jordan was enjoying himself so much. No confrontation. No stress. Water all around him. He was happy. "I'm glad to hear that." he was responding to her comment of Jordan's company. "Swimming with friends is always more fun, anyways."
"It's been one adjustment after another and I've met some people I'd probably try to avoid, but there're nicer people, like you Chana, I've met too. I'm just trying to get along now and stay out of the way."
Chana smiled and shook her head slightly. He probably wouldn't say the same thing if he ran into her while she was...well, during that time of the month.
"I suppose it can be," she mused. "I don't really swim with people unless if I happen to see them out here."
She was a bit unsettled by his compliments, but covered it by climbing up onto the bank by her shirt and fish (which were starting to smell). Was he flirting with her or something? Because if he was, she was staying loyal to Stewart! Yes he was cute and polite...but there was something very unfinished about him.
And no way was she training another virgin boy. One was more than enough!
Jordan hadn't been flirting with Chana. He'd been trying hard to keep his damn mouth shut as much as possible to avoid saying something stupid about the labs or about the changes themselves. His own recent change was toning him down from the labs-lackey zealot that he'd been parading himself around as. Jordan was simply enjoying the water and the company of someone who didn't want to kick his tail into next week.. or try to kill him again.
Trying to be nice was all he could do to avoid blurting something stupid to turn another potential friend into an enemy. He'd been good at that lately and wanted to be like them. He didn't want to have the labs breathing down his neck all the time. He didn't like being their gopher and he wasn't fond of becoming a lapdog for Doctor Moreau, even if everything about him betrayed that errant thought.
He courteously averted his eyes to the tree line on the other side of the river as Chana walked onto the bank. He'd been successful in not saying anything stupid -he hoped- but he feared that he'd overdone it like everything else. He was so worried about being accepted or angering others that he would overdo it and turn them away or anger them to the point of frustration.
"Going?" he commented curiously, splashing about as he kept his eyes averted. He'd become self-conscious lately and knew that he didn't want others to see him like this. He could have just died when Chana had seen him intitally, but she'd been polite about it to say nothing.
"Well, yeah," the beaver admitted. "It's no offense to you or anything, but I need to get these fish down to the cafeteria to be cooked or preserved in some way before they really start to smell." She smiled sheepishly.
"Perhaps I'll see you around some more though?" Chana offered as she tugged on her t-shirt with no sense of modesty whatsoever. There really wasn't much to see, considering there was fur over everything.
He was relieved to know he hadn't offended her and waved to Chana as he kicked himself further from the shore. She was nice. When Jordan wasn't being a total tool of the labs he could be a decent person. For the first time in a while, he'd had a relaxing swim. "Oh yeah. That'd be bad."
"See you around." It had gone better than most of his meetings with the others, but he still felt like he'd said or done something wrong. Maybe it was his own insecurities playing on him.
Chana quickly gathered her catch up into an old bag - she had learned early on that fish, if they aren't quite dead, might jump out of a bucket - and stood. She waved cheerfully to Jordan before turning her feet to a familiar path. She even whistled as she headed back down to the village.
All in all, a good meeting and a good day's catch.
Jordan was more at peace following his positive meeting with Chana. He'd proven to himself that he didn't have to be a total tool of the labs 24/7. He could try to be himself and live in peace on the beach. He didn't have to get into people's faces and lecture on the labs being their savior. Their could be hope for the young dogman yet- provided he didn't do something stupid along the way.
Feeling pretty good about himself, despite his freakish growths, Jordan swam to his heart's content, burning off a lot of stored energy- just like the dog needed to- and pent-up frustrations from prior meetings.
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Posted: Sun Mar 11, 2007 9:06 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:38 am
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