Welcome to Gaia! ::

Jamal slept easily through the night, but as the sun started to rise in the horizon, he found that the falling daylight had a slightly harsher reaction than normal on his body. The faint buzzings of a headache worked about above his eyes until it was a fairly strong ache that made him groan against his better judgement and roll over...then he groaned again because his overworked muscles spasmed in pain with the movement. It wasn't the same sort of ache that one might have after working out extensively. No...there was a vague sense of fatigue that went with the ache that made him think of the last time he had the flu.

Oh gods, anything but the flu....

"Jesus christ," he mumbled into the palm frond that seperated his face from the sandy beach. "Make it stoooooop....."

Antony slept, but not as hard as usual. Jamal's grunts woke her and after a few dazed blinks towards the ocean, the tattooed woman pushed herself up into a sitting position. Rubbing her hands over her face before pushing her glasses back on, she turned her gaze over to the black man complaining.

He looked like s**t, and then some.

"Jamal," she said softly before handing him a bottle of water, freshly filled from after her nap the night before, "You okay?"

Jamal ignored the bottle at first, too interested in keeping his face firmly planted against the palm frond should his sparce dinner of fruit and coconut decide to make a guest appearance, and mumbled inarticulately something that sounded like "muhurfruhin frew". His head panged unpleasantly as his spoke.

Even though it was early morning, his back had a sheen of sweat on it, yet his hands and feet were somewhat cold and clammy. Everywhere else was slightly warmer than usual; not a bad fever, but a fever none-the-less.

When he was certain, for the moment anyway, that he'd not vomit all over himself or Antony, a hand reached upwards to clumsily fumble for the bottle that was offered, eyes squinted into narrow slits as he did so.

A frown fell on her features as she continued to watch Jamal, and a wave of guilt fell on her before she moved to stand, stretching somewhat. She glanced towards the jungle before returning her gaze to his form on the sand.

"I'm going to check the trap," she murmured quietly, "And then I'll try and help you." Not that she was a doctor or anything, but she didn't want him getting sicker.

But damn was she hungry, and her stomach rumbled in agreement to her thoughts. Bending over, she picked up the knife and some leftover 'rope,' and then headed into the jungle to check on the trap.

Jamal didn't even bother to roll over to watch her go. Instead he sucked greedily on the contents of the water bottle before propping his head up on an elbow and shielding his eyes with a free hand to check out the scenery. His stomach gave a lurch; this did not bode well for ANYONE if he was coming down with the flu. He might be a big, tough black man but he turned into the most useless waste of space in the world when he was sick.

The buzzing of his headache flittered about across his brow like some sort of insistent butterfly, but it wasn't too bad yet. Maybe he just needed to get out of the sun.

Again he nursed off the water bottle for a few moments before finally sitting up and giving a loud, repressed grunt of pain as he did so. ******** his muscles aching...he swore his very bones hurt too.

It wasn't long before Antony could hear the strange noises coming up from the trap, and as she moved closer, she was also hit with the musky scent that was wafting from the pit.

She scrunched up her face, trying not to breathe too deep from her nose. Hopefully that would diminish the smell a bit. Despite the smell, she picked up her pace, automatically getting excited.

In fact, it sounded a lot like Jamal when he was whining...

Shaking the thought from her mind as the trap came into view, the first thing she noticed was all the hoof prints that led to the pit, which was no longer covered. That was the second thing she noticed.

Ignoring the smell entirely, Antony cautiously inched her way towards the edge of the trap before peering over it, eyes growing wide with the sight of the peccary.

They had food. FOOD!

Instinct beat out over everything else running through her mind, and she immediately jumped into the pit, avoiding the spikes when she landed. Antony didn't even bother to avoid the animal, since it was essentially pegged to the ground with bamboo, and now all she had to do was end its misery.

And so she did.

The knife was drawn across its neck before she could realize what she was doing, stomach and natural instincts taking charge of it all.

It wasn't until she noticed the warm blood on her hands and the pink hue staining the once pure white fur.

Something about those eyes...

Taking a deep breath, Antony took out the rope and tied up the animal's legs, hefting it over the edge of the trap before hoisting herself out. She quickly made a makeshift carrying 'bag' out of the rope for the catch, and then she headed back towards the camp.

They were having meat tonight!

Due to her pace, it didn't take her long to return to the beach, absolutely beaming, "We caught something!" She cried happily, forgetting for the moment that Jamal was sick. He'd deal.

"Huh?" he managed to say as he heard her approaching far before he saw her. They had food!? They had meat?!...

Jamal tried to peer at the thing that bobbled at her side and when she got closer, the pungant metallic scent of blood mixed with musk wafted over him.

And it was this moment that Jamal turned away and retched on the sand on his left. It was all water, since thankfully that's all he had consumed recently, but still...Ew.

"Okay then," she said indifferently. So he was sick, that meant more food for her. Luckily, Antony had gone hunting loads of times with her father, and had to deal with the deer afterwards.

Firstly, she made sure to move as far as possible from Jamal while still being near the fire, where she had built a sort of rotisery of sorts.

She then sat down and skinned the wild pig with the same mentality in which Antony had killed the animal: emotionless. Though she was having a hard time shaking off the strange feeling at the back of her mind.

(To save gory details...)

After she had finished all the dirty work, there were several skewers with meat on them cooking over the fire. Plenty of meat was still left over to cook or smoke later, but currently the fire was quite occupied.

And despite how bloodied she was from carving the pig, Antony was positively estatic. They had meat!

Jamal wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and shuddered, shoving sand over his little "accident" with the other, then got up slowly to drag his bed away from the damp spot on the beach. His headache eased a little as he stood up, so he remained doing so for a bit and tried to stretch his aching muscles. Probably a side-effect from not having meat for so long, he had decided.

He ignored Antony and the mess she was making on the pure principle of not wanting to hurl again and sipped gingerly at the water this time while moving back down into a lying position on the beach. He was tired, cranky, and now he was sick. Lovely.

Fortunately, Jamal ended up falling back asleep whilst she was carving the poor mutated animal into meal portions, dragged to sleep by the ever-present pounding in his skull.

The next time Antony looked over, she was surprised to see that Jamal was asleep again. This worried her, but she let him sleep and continued to tend to the meat that was skewered.

While waiting for it to finish, she went down to the surf and scrubbed her hands clean of the blood. Damn if she was going to get sick from raw meat. When her hands were clean, Antony made her way over to the beach bar, and after a bit of rummaging around a smile came to her face.

She had found some ziplock bags and two or three tupperware containers, and that was plenty enough for her and Jamal.

Making her way back over to the fire, the tattooed woman was pleased to see that the meat was done and not raw. After tasting a few bites, she deemed it absolutely amazing and ate half a skewer of meat hungrily. Luckily, she had the sense to know not to stuff herself after not eating much for days on end, and she immediately put the meat away into one of the tupperwares.

Putting a lid on it, she set it by the fire so that it'd stay warm, but far enough so the plastic wouldn't melt.

Her attention was turned back to the rest of the pig. Time to smoke the rest of this. Antony didn't want to take any chances that this stuff would go bad, so it wasn't until late afternoon that she finished smoking the last bit of the meat.

Overall, she was quite proud of herself, and after making a sort of disposal bag of sorts out of palm fronds, the remains were carried far down the beach. There, she dug a deep hole out of range of the surf, and then buried the animal's remains.

The fur was not buried, and had been skinned properly. Antony just couldn't seem to throw away the pelt. The animal had obviously been an albino, which was rare, and there was also something else that tugged at her. It was hard to place, and she didn't really want to think of it quite yet.

She had a sick black man to take care of... Yippy skippy.

Jamal had slept the entire time in a fairly restless manner; every now and then he'd make a noise and roll over, brow squinching as though in pain or making a noise, before dissolving back into a deeper sleep that never lasted very long. He continued to sweat despite the fact that he wasn't as close to the fire as before and his forehead and cheeks were flushed a faint tinge of rouge while the rest of his facial skin looked slightly blanched, like any normal person's would when they were feverish or ill.

He was probably going to dehydrate himself with the amount of moisture that he was sweating off, plus the fact that all the water he'd ingested earlier was no longer in his system anyway.

The black man was having some crazy dreams too, brought on by his fever, hence the noise and varied facial expressions, but they weren't really of anything in particular. Rather, they were dreams that were in slow-motion one moment and fast-foward the next with explosions of bright colors here and there. If he had been awake, he'd swear up and down he'd been slipped some sort of magic mushroom and that was the cause of these weird dreams.

Antony returned shortly, and put away the ziplock and tupperware'd meat in their 'fridge' of sorts. A frown came across her features when she saw Jamal's state, and immediately fetched some more water.

After a pause, she shrugged off her shirt and soaked it under the shower head they had been getting their water from. Once it was soaked and the bottles filled, Antony meandered back to where Jamal was laying.

Carefully lifting his head, she slipped under it so that his head could rest in her lap. Maybe that'd be a bit more comfortable. Ringing out her shirt on his face before pressing the damp cloth onto his forehead, Antony frowned at how much he had sweated out.

"Jamal... You need to drink some water," she said quietly. It wasn't a request, but more of a do it or else kind of tone.

Jamal made a noise that you could ALMOST call a whimper as his head was moved into her lap, eyes squinching tightly as the 'marching band' in his skull blared and set up a whole new volume of throbbing. However, he did wake up sufficiently to where the strange dream disappeared into blinding sunlight when he did open his eyes and he winced. It was darker than it had been the last time he was awake, but his eyes were sensitive enough to make it seem as though it was high noon.

His lips pressed into a thin line and he clumsily brushed damp sand from his palms before give his face an exaggerated rub.

"Don't want no ********' water," he murred irritably in a slurred, sleepy manner even though he knew he had woken up to the worst case of cottonmouth ever. Her soft tone of voice didn't even really register; all noises sounded the same to him right now...loud and painful.

Jamal didn't look like he was really in a shape to really fight anything though, so if she forced him, he probably would give up and just take it.

She rolled her eyes, leaving the damp shirt on his forehead before opening the bottle and tilting to his lips. "Drink," she demanted, voice still rather quiet as to not hurt the obvious headache that he had.

Glancing over towards a noise of someone, Antony squinted to see the God-man explode from the forest. He didn't seem to notice her and since he was out of hearing range, she continued to take care of the oaf in her lap.

Luckily, Antony was in quite a good mood now that they had meat, and a damn large supply of it too.

Jamal gave a growling sort of sigh and resisted the urge to swat at the bottle only because he didn't feel well enough to really get into a fight with her right now. It was just ******** water...he wasn't giving up his pride by accepting water, right?

He sipped from the bottle with eyes half-cracked open, oblivious to the appearance of the strange goatman preacher dude. Probably a good thing...he was liable to flip his lid over the appearanc of a random transformed stranger in the state he was in.

"What'd we catch?" he managed to inquire between swallows, still slurring his words a bit despite his best intentions to not do so.

Antony grinned slightly, dabbing him with her shirt again before putting the water bottle down at her side, "Some kind of pig... We have meat to last us a long time."

She positively beamed at this, proud that all the work that they had put into their trap had finally payed off.

Somehow, she couldn't shake the red eyes out of the back of her mind...

"Pig...pig is good," he said absently, eyes closing fully as the thumping in his skull increased tempo for a few moments. That and he swore he saw some sort of violet-colored thumb-sized feline of some sort sit down on the bridge of his nose and peer into one eye. WTF.

"Glad we got somethin'. Maybe I'll feel better if I eat some...but I ain't hungry righ' now..."

He opened one eye hesitantly to see if the little cat was still sitting on his nose. It was, only it was now green. He wrinkled his brow nervously and forced himself to look up at Antony as he debated in asking her if she saw what he saw.

Nodding, she lifted her shirt and wrung it over his head, he definately had a fever. She frowned deeply at his faces, taking note of the fact that he looked like he was in fact on a bad trip.

Just great.

"You have a fever," she murmured, eyes glancing over towards the man that was slowly making his way down the shore towards them. Well this was going to be interesting.

As the water trickled down his face, he had a distinct feeling that it wasn't water moving across his skin, but it was his actual skin that was sliding off the bone. A brief look of panic and a quick accessment of his facial skin with a hand assured him that this wasn't the case, but he realized that his kitty-of-another-color was still sitting on his nose (now a brilliant shade of red) and started to lick the space between his eyes. Damn thing.

"Get off," he growled at it as he ignored her comment of fever, trying to flick the 'cat' off his nose but found that the little beast was apparently a gymnast in it's spare time. It all but did a somersault over his fingers as he flicked, then settled in to lick between his eyes again, giving a rumbly purr as it did so. Argh.

Giving up on the cat again for the moment, he followed Antony's gaze down the beach, biting his tongue as the motion made his headache become a more dull thump, relieving some of the pressure. He could sort of see a figure approaching, but none of it was of a description that he remembered, plus it was all blurry. Well, whatever....

"Tell 'em we ain't got nuthin," Jamal said groggily as he drapped a hand over each eye as his head moved to straight up and down in her lap once again. "Ain't got nuthin'....nuthin' nuthin' nuthin'...."

"I won't," she murmured, pressing her hand over his eyes to block out the light, and whatever he thought was attacking his face. Her eyes simply glanced over towards Stewart, tilting her head somewhat before gazing out towards the ocean.

Eventually she zoned out as well.

Eventually the fever had gotten the better of Jamal and he fell into another restless sleep, lying as comfortably as one can on the lumpy beach in the midst of some sort of bizzare sickness. Again his sleep was filled with a strange mix of color and shapes, but now something slowly became distinguishable in it this time.

Jamal found himself on a dark street, void of streetlights except for one that shone dimly above his head as though it were on the verge of flickering out. The air was cold and heavy, stiff with the scents of alleyway garbage and sewer. This was home...it smelt so distinctly of home, anyway... He started to walk down the sidewalk, eyes searching the brick walls beside him for a sign of something familiar.

"Mangy animal," came a bitter snarl from the shadowed doorway of a closed store front a few paces away. "Lettin' people like you out herr at night. Get back to yo' place, ya damn nig!" Glints of metal reflected off the figure near the chest and at the hip, yet the shadows easily hid the form of the person there that confided in the shadows.

The black man paused, a hand instinctively going to his hip where he once had always carried a pistol, memory of being stuck on a deserted island far from his mind as the flat of his palm actually hit the cool metal of the weapon. It was drawn silently as Jamal's eyes narrowed.

"Gonna show yo' ********' face o' you just gunna talk?" he snarled back in challenge, clicking the chamber of the weapon open to check for rounds, which he found. The bullets looked odd from what he could see from the back, but he thought nothing of it. Bullets were bullets, right? If he had taken one out, they would have looked like syringes...familiar syringes of light blue that he had seen once before in his life.

The stranger in the shadows moved forward and the reflections of metal soon lit up the badges and pins that lay on the breast pocket of the individual there as well as the snaps and buckles on the belt. It was a cop. He smiled wickedly at Jamal and drew his own weapon, but held it lazily unlike the larger black man, who held it delicately with a finger over the trigger. "Oh come now, Jamal. You knew it was coming. You knew I was waiting for you after what you ******** you. I didn't do nuthin'," Jamal shot back, waving the gun warningly.

The cop smiled a condescending smile and shook his head like an indulgent parent might. "Always refusing to admit...but Jamal, you know you screwed up. You told me so."

Jamal snorted, growing somewhat leary. He never told a cop about anything....

"You don't know s**t," said the black man brashly, weapon lowering a tad.

"I know too much, Jamal. Perhaps you thought we forgot about you? Tsk tsk tsk..."

'We?' Jamal suddenly felt a prickle at the back of his neck.

From the shadows, an eruption of clicks came...the sound of a chamber being put in the barrel of a gun. It was a sound Jamal had heard enough to know exactly what it was. As Jamal's wary eyes started to circle his surroundings, he was met with the shadowed forms of several other individuals...yet these forms were not the same as the cop before him. Some looked furry...others scaley. Some were taller and some shorter...and he swore up and down he saw features that were nothing like he'd seen before on a human. All held guns that were leveled square at him.

"Don't worry...this won't hurt much," the cop said genially, stepping forward fully. Jamal was treated with a gaze of deep green and from beneath the hat were sprigs of red...there was something about this man that Jamal found strangely familiar. As he moved forward, the circle of people around him did also.

Jamal snapped his head around, looking for a way out of the circle but found nothing. The circle closed in too rapidly.

"Get da ******** back o' I'll ********' shoot!" he shouted suddenly as he whirled around again with the gun lifted, yet realized how futile of an effort that would be. Nearly forty bodies pressed in around him, closer and closer, an intense smell of something musty and...almost animalistic swallowed him.

Once more he turned and found the cool barrel of a gun pressed to the very center of his forehead abruptly. Jamal went to slam the butt of his own weapon into the individual's face but stopped sort as he was greeted with violet eyes, bright blue hair, and a solemn face that was all too familiar. Awen?

The girl said nothing...just stared at him as she held the gun to his head...he didn't even think to see how she could so easily reach his head when she was so damn short. Jamal went to touch her shoulder but the woman easily evaded the touch without moving the gun.

"What da ********, Awen?" he ventured slowly. "Put da ********' gun down."

The woman didn't acknowledge his words.

Jamal again tried to touch her but again it seemed that he could not touch her. She gave him a very ghost-like smile.

"You thought you were untouchable, Jamal," she said in a oddly sweet, solemn way that made Jamal grow even more nervous. "I should have known better...but it's okay. You'll be like me soon enough."

The black man's gaze darted around the circle, falling now on familiar faces: Ambrose...Greer...Amaya...Chubbs... All of them held guns that were leveled calmly at his chest, each giving him no inkling of emotion. Jamal knew that one move and he was done, but deep inside he knew it was over. He saw it in Awen's eyes.

"I..I didn't do nuthin'," he insisted again, but did so to those assembled around him. Oddly enough, the cop had disappeared. Jamal was surrounded by his peers now. The 'islanders' all gave him emotionless stares, save Awen, who looked almost sympathetic.

"They all know...they know about everything. But it's okay. You'll be like us and see that you are not invincible. That you hurt ********, Awen," he hissed, dropping his gun to the sidewalk. "I thought I meant somethin' to ya..."

Awen shook her head ever so slightly. "Something...you -did- mean something, but times change."

Jamal went to move forward, to try and sway Awen. If he could get her, maybe everyone else would drop their weapon. He knew he was outnumbered.

As he moved, pain of the upmost intensity suddenly scored his body. The air around him erupted with coils of smoke...coils of discharged and spent gunpowder. He turned to look in shock as the gun in front of his forehead also gave a coil of smoke and behind it was Awen's face, completely void of emotion like the others. He felt something cold dripping down his forehead and pooling around the sides of his nose.

He screamed suddenly as his skin felt like it was set on fire and his hands reached out to grab at Awen's arms to hold him steady, but the woman's skin felt so slippery...like wet rubber. His hands could find no purchase as he fell backwards among the forest of clawed and padded feet that surrounded his body. It was over...he was going to die.

Jamal's dream scream was not just emitted in his head; he suddenly jerked violently as he lie there on the sand and gave the same scream into the chilled beach air.

Antony was pulled out of the daydream by the sudden jerking, and then the bone chilling scream that quickly followed. She jumped, a piercing gaze immediately turning frantically to Jamal, the source of all this madness.

And it was indeed madness.

Her eyes opened in horror as his skin, before her very eyes, began to pale. He was turning white, and all she could think about was that this was so Michael Jackson.

Snapping out of it, she hefted him up against her in a strange sort of hug, as if to comfort him, and to possibly keep him from hurting himself. "Jamal!" She cried, not even thinking of his sensitive headache, but instead, her attention was completely focused on Jamal, a mix between fear and horror.

And then it hit her...

He was transforming...

The headache was definately the last of his problems.

He cried out again as the feeling of burning raced from his fingertips, over his wrists, and quickly up his arms and shoulders, the pain of the physical change completely overshadowing the visual effect of his skin paling. Jamal was easily hefted into a kneeling position and clenched to Antony's form, completely at the mercy of the transformation that spread like a cloak of flame down across his shoulders, down his back, and started to pool at his tailbone.

The pressure of Antony's arms around his side made the sensitive bleached skin jump and spasm and he blindly reached out to push her away, another moan of agony escaping his mouth. As the palm of one hand touched her shoulder, the disgusting sight of fingernails being pushed free of the tender nailbeds greeted them both, the spent 'bodyparts' falling into the sand before dribbles of blood started to seep from his naked fingertips out of no where. Shards of white bone started to protrude from these tips, stained with the blood that flowed freely from both hands now, one placed on Antony's shoulder and the other tucked to his chest. His hands gnarled into fists, the fresh claws that were forming slowly piercing both the flesh of his own palm and that of Antony's shoulder. He didn't realize what he was doing, of course, but he couldn't stop the urge to clench the mutating digits in a futile effort to ease the pain.

"Make...make it..." he struggled aloud in a piteous whine, the terror on his face easily outdoing any other time he might have been afraid. He struggled to look at Antony's face, pleading with her as though she had control over this. "Antony do somethin'....I can't..can't...this...." It was uncertain if he understood what was really happening or if he was in some sort of denial.

Antony winced painfully as the claws dug into her shoulder, sucking in a gulp of air so quickly it sounded like a hiss. Still, she continued to hug him to her. She could take pain.

Even though she wanted to comfort him, Antony couldn't find any words to make the situation any better, and simply gave him a pained look. Adrenaline caused the searing burn in her shoulder to go ignored for now.

In all honesty, she had no clue what to do, and she was scared. "You're strong," she whispered to him, in hopes of providing some kind of comfort. Highly doubtful considering the look on his face, but it was worth a try, or two. "I won't leave."

It was all that the tattooed woman could really offer him at the moment. The change was happening, Antony couldn't stop it, and she highly doubted that telling him this fact would bode well.

A similar transformation had happened with his feet, but most of the pain was occuring at the top of his body, so it almost went completely ignored. The blood crusted unpleasantly with the sand that surrounded his feet, for now effectively hiding the lengthened foot bones and new claws from view. A new frustration rose with the fright he was feeling as he instinctively tried to retract his new claws but found them unmoving and the attempt only brought fresh pain as the muscles continued to rearrange themselves for later use.

Jamal suddenly tried to tear himself away as he realized that he was bleeding, eyes focusing on the red blotch on Antony's shoulder; the blood at his finger tips had now started to ebb at this point with the formation of his new claws and the muscles made his digits feel less nimble and delicate as they used to be.

Then he realized what was happening. This wasn't a continuation of his dream.

"NO," he shouted suddenly, the word garbled somewhat as his mouth started to change to give room to the enlarging canines that started to peek through his drawn, thin lips. "********' NO."

He roughly pushed himself away from Antony, struggling against her arms until he could finally get free, newly clawed hands raised in disbelief in front of his face as he spun away clumsily to fall to a knee in the sand more than an arms length away. He caught himself from falling face first into the sand...one small saving grace.

The whiter tips of his hands contrasted eerily with the dried blood and sand that covered each nail...yet...the scent of blood caught something strange within him suddenly as he crouched there, chest heaving. He lifted a sand-covered hand up towards his nose, which had flattened height-wise and spread into a more typical feline nose. He almost looked in awe of the blood there for a moment...like he was going to lick his hands, but then spooked suddenly as whiskers erupted from the fleshy portion above his lips and brushed against his vaguely aching hands. His ears were not noticed, thanks to the development of a new pain that drifted over his face towards the center.

A strangled hissy scream left his mouth as the pain trickled upwards to his eyes and he jammed his lids shut as hard as he could, head drooping down towards the hand as he felt his remaining energy starting to sap away. He couldn't tell that he was getting the distinct black 'skin' patches at the bottom and top of his eyes that amplified his feline-esque changes since he had no reflection nearby. His eyelids parted slowly when the pain started to leave, giving Antony the 'pleasure' of watching the last bits of deep brown iris of each eye be swallowed by the icey blue that he was now stuck with.

Most of the drastic changes had finished but everything hurt. EVERYTHING. His new eyes easily cut the shadows in the jungle that spanned the distance behind Antony and with it came the musty scent of comforting wood and dirt. He had felt this feeling before, but it was so much stronger now. Jamal moved slowly to stand, grimacing as the remaining ache in his muscles flared, eyes flitting from the jungle to Antony. He...smelt her. At least, he thought it was her...and he smelt a vague sort of fear about her. It almost made him laugh, but mostly it made him angry. Lips parted to show his new fangs, the normal warmth that was easily found in his once dark eyes now replaced with a chilling, almost calculating air.

Then it hit him again. What had really happened.

His chest heaved painfully and his newly clawed hands pressed to his bare chest that was now littered with faint dark stripes. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it...he WOULDN'T.

He gave Antony another look of terror and confusion but he didn't know what to say.

The pain became fresh when he withdrew his claws from her shoulder, and she winced at both the throbbing and his shouts. Not that she had expected him to remain calm when he finally did transform.

Stumbling to the ground from the force of his shove, Antony hit the sand hard, and luckily missed any of the sharp objects (and fire) that were around. Her first reaction was to immediately turn her attention back to Jamal, just in case.

And then she watched. It was all that could be done after she had been shoved violently away, but that didn't mean that it was a pleasant view.

A worried look came over her face when he dropped his head down, his expression causing her breathing to quicken, but she knew better than to try and approach him like this. The opening of his lids caused a new set of chills to run up her spine, and she swallowed, eyes transfixed on his.

The replaced blues were, in her opinion, beautiful, but the fact that they lacked Jamal's expressiveness worried her even more. It wasn't right. Nor was the way he was glancing at her, almost predatory, and not the lustful predation she was used to either.

Then everything seemed to stop, and Antony sat up with a soft sigh of relief.

It was over.

Concern washed over her features as she climbed to her feet slowly, still ignoring the blood that oozed from her shoulder.

"Jamal?" She asked tenatively, taking a step towards him, "It's... It's over..."

She didn't know what to say really, but at least he hadn't attacked her.

It's...It's over...

Jamal's face suddenly contorted into a fierce snarl as Antony's words sank into a reverbing echo in his addled brain, lips parting clumsily over his lengthened canines. His mouth was not accustomed to making such gestures to work around his new mouthful of teeth so it was no surprise that he cut the tender flesh of his lips accidently. Weak spiderwebs of blood fell into the creases of his dried lips, a side effect from his previous dehydration.

"Ova? OVA?" he erupted, a hand lashing out as though he was going to catch her in the chest or abdomen with his new weaponry. Thankfully he was too far away to reach her; if he was in the right mind, he'd have never tried to gut her anyway, so surely once this was all over he'd be grateful for this...

But the fact she was out of reach only seemed to spark a new flame of intense anger that flashed in his cool, steely eyes and bristled his newly formed whiskers. He inhaled sharply and turned, the small tail nub snapping painfully with the motion as it peeked over the back of his tattered jeans.

"How ********'? You think this is OVA? How kin' you ********' SAY dat? HOW CAN YOU." He screamed the last line to the ocean as he tripped over his oddly formed feet, hitting the sand hard on his knees. Thankfully this area of his body had the least change so the impact just stung a little. However, his lack of grace only made him more angry and he pounded the dirt with his thickened hands until the pain was so bad that he had to stop because he thought his hands were going to split open again.

No, this wasn't over. This was the beginning of the end. He was so close...so close to being free. He had them ALL beat...everyone else was changing and he had made it so far...for this? FOR ********, ********, ********, ********, ******** <******** was distinctly aware of the jungle now. There was safety and protection in the jungle...the beach was not safe.

She managed to jump back, even though he wouldn't have hit her if she had stayed still.

His words stung. Antony hadn't meant to be mean, or to trigger something like this. He was only hurting himself more, and she knew she was too weak to stop him from all this.

Though she knew all too well the feeling of intense rage he was having, Antony, against her better judgement, took another step or two towards Jamal, a pained look gracing her features.

"I didn't mean it like that Jamal... Just that... For now..." Antony trailed off weakly, moving her opposite hand to experimentally touch the wound on her shoulder. Biting back another wince, her deep violet eyes searched his newly changed ones. "It's stopped..."

Somehow, she stood her ground as he continued to snarl and curse at her. After he had forgiven her for nearly killing him, Antony wasn't about to leave him in his current state.

Jamal's expression lacked any sympathy for anything he might have said that come off poorly. He didn't care.

"Look at dis. LOOK," he practically keened, lifting his clawed hands to shove them in the air towards Antony whilst practically vibrating with rage and disgust, staring at the shiny new claws against the paler flesh with revolt coiling in his stomach. He was turning white. WHITE, WTF. He was NOT Michael Jackson...this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong.

He clasped his hands together with a loud slap then after speaking, starting to systematically tear at the foreign skin so welts started to rise, followed by bloody scratches. His rougher palms started to smear the ruddy fluid across the very palest portions of skin in a crazed ploy to cover the change...as though the blood would bring back the medium brown hue if he had enough of it. It obviously was not going to work and with each pass of claws on skin, his nostrils flared and his whiskers bristled.

"This ain't me. No. No no no no," he challenged, eyes darting from hand to hand as he wiped and tore, caring little for the strange striping that retained his normal skin hue.

This was too overwhelming for him. He couldn't handle this. Tears started to spring at the corners of his eyes as panic and pain rose in unison. He was a freak. He was one of -them- and now there was nothing about him that he could use to distinguish him from people like Ambrose. Like -AMBROSE-.

He gave a tortured cry and crumpled forward in a heap, bloody arms reaching over his head to clench at the back of his neck, claws digging into the frazzled and torn edges of his cornrows. Racking sobs mixed with gutteral yowling noises took over the odd silence that had fallen once he had stopped shouting.

"Enough!" She hissed, not able to take his self destruction any longer, and immediately closed the distance between them both. Grabbing his wrists, she held them as tightly as she could, prying them from eachother despite how bloody they were.

"This," Antony said sharply, refering to his actions, "Is not you."

She was disgusted, but understood why he was doing what he was doing, even if it was horrible.

Falling to her knees with him, she tried to keep hold of his wrists, but they were too slippery and she simply let them wrap around his torso in a tight hug.

"You," she murmured solidly, looking into his face seriously as she snaked a hand from around his body and pressed it over his left pec, gripping the skin there slightly, "Are -here-. And if you think otherwise, you're just like them... Judgemental."

Antony paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing quietly, but sincerely, "I know you're not like that..."

At that point, she didn't really care if she got torn up for trying to help him. He was her friend, and that's that.

He couldn't bring himself to look at her directly at this point. He was so disgusted and ashamed of himself. The air reeked of blood and sweat now and it was so distracting; he couldn't concentrate on what was going on amidst the strengthened instincts and the new sensory skills.

Jamal stared at her hand in a sort of muddled stupor, not really hearing a word she was staying. She had normal hands...human hands. The sight of it made the anger in his chest tighten in envy. The entire feeling of just being generally pissed off had taken up almost the entirety of his emotional capacity.

She could probably feel him physically start to tense as he started despise her normalcy. She could say all this but she had no ******** idea. Now he understood all the other islanders when they spoke of transformation and how they felt. It all made sense.

"What if I be like dat?" he practically spat into the silence, drawing his whiskers in towards the flat of his cheeks, purposefully trying to start an argument for some reason or another that he couldn't quite figure out. Jamal just wanted to go off...he just needed the trigger pulled... "Maybe I'm jus' a good ********' liar."

She indeed felt him tense, and wasn't surprised in the least that he was reacting like this. However, Antony snorted at his next comment, raising her eyebrows before shaking her head. "Like hell you're a good liar."

Frowning, Antony let her hand fall to his stomach, where she lightly, almost cautiously, trailed her thumb over the skin there. It was supposed to be comforting, and hopefully it was doing just that and not irritating him further.

Antony knew that she too would eventually change, and while she wasn't looking foreward to it, she also wasn't going to deny its future happening. Still, she didn't want to really accept it, and it also wasn't the right time to remind him of the goodies that were yet to come.

In the end, the truth was that she had no idea what it felt like to transform, and because of that, she felt quite helpless.

After the long pause, Antony finally spoke, sensing his need to get it all out of his system. Her voice was still quiet, but firm, "Jamal... I'm your friend, and I'm not just going to abandon you. Do what you want to me..." She trailed off, frowning somewhat before continuing, "I can, and will, take it..."

A light scritch or two later, and Antony released her hold around him entirely, stepping back and watching him carefully and returning her hand to the shoulder wound. It was still throbbing painfully.

"Just..." She started, "Don't do anything else self-destructive... Please?" Her tone was hopeful, and sincere as her eyes searched his out. "You're still Jamal."

She didn't know what else she could do.

The light touch on his abs was not entirely unpleasant but given his current emotional status, it also brought another wave of resentment. He understood that she was worried and didn't want him to hurt himself but he had this inclination that he just wanted to be left alone. That her mere presence only spiked his irritation.

"You ain't gonna have ta take nuthin'," he said slowly as he stood up, trying his damnest to keep his anger at the situtation in check and not go ballistic on her. "Cause this ain't yo' fault. I ain't takin' it out on you...don't make me do it..." Jamal raised a hand to point at her, canines again pointing through between his lips. The timbre of his voice was clearly that of someone having an internal struggle...trying to remain calm yet obviously the situtation at hand would not allow it.

He felt like he needed to go away somewhere. The beach was not comforting, the words coming from Antony's mouth weren't comforting....nothing was. The drying blood on his hands and arms were now giving a pungent smell of into the air that prickled at something in his brain. It fascinated him but also scared him at the same time. It was all too much.

Jamal's gaze fell from Antony's form as she spoke, taking in the sight of the striping on his limbs and the nasty claws tipping both toes and fingers. He hadn't seen his face yet and couldn't bear to right then. Was he really still Jamal? How could he be? This was not Jamal. She didn't understand.

The black man looked almost hopeless as he stood there on the beach, staring at the rough palms of his hands, ears twitching as the sensitive hair on the rims caught the breezy ocean air. For a moment, he stood completely still, then he gave a gutteral yowling shout, throwing his hands from his face, and stalked for the jungle. Everything inside him was blowing up faster and faster until he lost sight of exactly what was going on.

The jungle was where he'd find comfort. The tiger inside him knew. He needed to be alone.

Antony simply watched him, neither backing up or advancing on him. She could hear the struggle in his voice, and she wasn't about to push her luck with him.

It didn't take much for her to be able to imagine the vast distruction he was capable of normally, much less when he was emotionally unstable and equipped with claws and teeth. And she wasn't about to get in his way.

So she let him go, her eyes following his form as he took off towards the jungle. A chill continued to run through her from the yowl that he had let out just seconds earlier, but she continued to watch him. She watched him until he disappeared from sight.

Her hand immediately went to her shoulder, and she sank to the ground, all the pain and emotional drain from the event and day suddenly hitting her like a truck. The blood had soaked into her tank top, and was slowly still bleeding, the rest of the blood drying on her skin.

Antony sighed deeply, hissing as the deep breath stretched the claw wounds on her shoulder.

What a day... What more could happen?

--New Day--

Jamal had basically cried himself to sleep the previous night up there in 'his' tree, sprawled into the crook of branch and trunk in a most precarious fashion. He was not an agile man in any means and his odd body changes made him even less so...thus it was no surprise that he had a rather rude awakening in the early morning hours of the next day.

CRACKCRACKSNAPTHUMP

An odd silence followed, aside from the distant cries of some flock of tropical birds before the black man gave a strained cry of pain and surprise from his new location underneath his tree. It took a few attempts before he was able to roll out of the rather remarkable imprint his form had in the musty earth below his bed. Once he had, it was as though the 'pissed off' switch had been jammed into the on position.

"Jesus ********' christ," he bellowed at no one in particular, kicking hard at fallen tree debris at his side like a tantruming child, then hauled himself up to his feet. He'd just woken up and he was already angry...lovely. A thick chunk of rotting wood was snatched into his clawed hands and heaved with as much force as possible at the offending tree whilst spouting a litany of offensive phrases, causing a rather spectacular explosion of wood bits and nasty bug larvae to spray into the air. No real damage to the living tree was caused, much to Jamal's dismay and irritation. He retaliated with more jungle 'trash' being heaved, wacked, and whipped at the tree, all the while letting loose yells and snarls of frustration. In the end, the tree stood...a bit more bruised that it had started, but stood just the same. Having little other options (unless an axe fell out of the sky), he gave the tree a double middle-finger salute, cursed at it again, and stalked away from it, rubbing the sensitive nub on his backside...an unpleasant reminder of the changes he had undergone the other day.

As he went, he inspected his scabbed up lower arms with some air of dismay and disgust, kicking away whatever got in his way with a careless flick. The paleness still brought intense feelings of anger to the black man and he almost considered drawing blood again to try and darken the hue to something more like his chocolate brown complextion. He decided against it, realizing that if they got infected, he'd have no way to clean the wounds, so instead he purposefully jutted his chin forward, lifted his head, and kept the offending limbs out of sight. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going, but hopefully there would be water there. Nothing like a good bath...the thought of water brought a strange flicker of pleasure to the otherwise irritable man.

Jamal tried not to think about the other day but it was hard...the tug of muscles in places that they didn't previous exist was difficult to ignore as was the new sensory input of his new whiskers, nose, and ears. Part of him thought that maybe he ought to go back and find Antony, maybe apologize...

No. Something in his mind snapped at the very thought of apologizing. He didn't apologize for anything. At least, he didn't now.

He laid his whiskers back against his cheeks and huffed a sigh of discontent as his stomach rumbled insistantly. Oh...that's right, he hadn't eaten for awhile.

There was meat back at the camp, right?

Again something bit back that thought. He didn't need help from anyone else. He would make it on his own. Jamal did not need to rely on others.

These battling thoughts accompanied the tiger-man as he walked slowly towards were he was sure the scent of water lingered in the distance...the soil beneath his bare feet growing more moist and mucky as he pushed forward.

Eventually Jamal found a small tributary-type stream after a bit of walking. It wasn't really ideal for a good bathing, but it would have to work. He was too tired, too sore, and too lazy to follow the stream towards anything larger.

The man waded in to about mid-shin deep and let the water course over his bloody, sore feet, eyes closing slowly in a state of bliss. Nevermind that the water wasn't really all that cold...it still did the trick. He wriggled his toes until they were partially submerged in the sandy bottom, then he crouched down to splash water over his forearms and scrub at the scabby bits of blood to try and clean himself up. The brighter white made him want to cut himself to hell again to cover it but he resisted. He wasn't going to die out here because of some stupid infection from a self-inflicted wound.

As he splashed, he noted the rippled reflection of his body in the slow-moving waters. He paused after a moment and waited for the ripples to disappear, then peered critically at the alien face that stared up at him from the water's surface. That was -him-?

He lifted a finger to trace the lengthy whiskers that jutted from beneath his slightly padded nose, brushing the sensitive tips until the sensation was too much to take comfortably. Then he let a finger run the length of each canine all the while watching his reflection, finding the top ones to be a bit larger than the bottoms. They were small yet strong and sharp. Definately weaponry should he choose to use it that way. From the canines, he let a hand trace the elongated ears, but he didn't touch them long because the stiff fur on the rims made him shiver compulsively...like he wanted to shave it off NOW.

So this was Jamal...or what was left of him, anyway. He gave his reflection an unhappy glare and moved back into a standing position abruptly, distorting the image until it was mostly reflections of color, not shape. Good. He didn't want to look at himself any longer anyway. The water was no longer something he felt like dealing with, so he left it and stood on the bank to dry, eyes scanning the scenery.

He figured he might as well just go back to where he came from...that area was vaguely familiar, being that it was somewhat near the beach and he'd been all over that area whilst trying to build that damn trap...so he turned and started back in that direction. He was able to find his way because he could smell -himself- on the plant life. Now THAT was a strange sensation...

--------

The walk back was straight forward and soon he was back at his oh-so-favorite tree. He was psuedo-clean...psuedo-content...but he was really ******** hungry. Hm..

It had been a few days since Jamal's little transformation there on the beach and in those few days, the black man had done nothing but swear, break stuff, and bemoan the partial loss of his humanity. Unfortunately for him, he was also brought keenly aware of the fact that he knew nothing about jungles and what was safe to eat and what wasn't. The tiger inside him turned its nose up at any thought of eating vegitation and frankly, all Jamal wanted was a chunk of meat anyway. He didn't have access to any of that though, unless he went back to camp; he wasn't sure that was such a good idea.

Eventually the hunger pangs got to the point where he could ignore them no longer and now as night felt, he crept slowly towards the camp where he could hopefully smuggle some meat from their 'fridge', provided Antony hadn't eaten all of it or had a lapse of common sense and gave it away. He was not counting on either, for several reasons.

The black man peered out from the brush, watching the beach anxiously for signs of Antony or any other islander that might have wandered in while he was gone. He wanted to be in and out as quick as possible without being seen.

The woman in question had in fact not given away any of the meat to anyone, and there was peace and quiet now that both Stewart and the recently visited Ambrose were gone. Antony was laying on her side facing both the fire and the ocean while she sharpened the knife she had used to skin their catch several days back. It was one of the only things she could do to keep her mind off of her urge to smoke, her sexual frustration, and her sore shoulder.

Speaking of her shoulder, her tank top, despite multiple attempts at cleaning, was stained a brownish red on the side of her shoulder wound.

She didn't hear Jamal approach, nor did she smell him like most of the changed islanders would. Instead, she was blissfully unaware of his presence, and once she was finished sharpening the knife, Antony sat up and brushed off the sand still stuck to her.

Glancing over towards the 'fridge,' the tattooed woman debated eating another piece of jerky or possibly fruit.

Jamal had to supress a groan when he saw that she was very much right there at the camp and pursed his lips. Dammit, this was going to be a pain...He backed into the foliage a bit to make sure he was well hidden; thankfully his skin was sufficently dark enough to still provide him good cover in the shadows. Well...she couldn't be there forever, right? He sat back to wait and see what she did. Maybe she'd go bathe or something.

He felt sort of bad about hiding there like some sort of robber, but his reasoning of having helped catch the food comforted him somewhat. That food was as much his as it was hers. He just really didn't want to have to deal with anyone unless he had to. Jamal felt like a freak and felt that his presense anywhere would be a disservice to anyone he had to interact with. Especially Antony since she didn't have to deal with a transformation yet. He'd feel like a not-so-pleasant reminder of what she'd probably have to go through at some point.

Aside from the transformation differences, Jamal looked pretty rough. His scabby wounds on his lower arms had healed a bit, but not all the way. The careful hair braiding that he had always taken so much pride in was effectively frizzing and matting together at the same time, forming psuedo-dreads (which he was not fond of at all). All this time spent eating fruit had also killed some of his muscle mass, giving him a leaner look that wasn't entirely bad, but not something he was used to.

Had Jamal not moved, Antony probably wouldn't have noticed him, but he did, and she turned around to stare at the exact spot where Jamal was. She too had become leaner, losing some of her fat, but not enough to make her less curvy.

There was a long time where she just stared into the jungle, squinting somewhat but seeing nothing despite how hard she looked.

But she was sure that she had heard something, and then it dawned on her. Could it be Jamal? Her face screwed up in a skeptical look, but soon it relaxed and she was standing, stepping towards the jungle.

"Jamal?" She asked cautiously, tilting her head as if it were going to help her see. "Is that you?"

Fuuuuuuck.

Jamal grit his teeth and would have slapped his forehead or something along those lines if he wasn't hell-bent on being as quiet as he possibly could right then. Great....if he moved, he was going to get caught and if he didn't move, he was going to get caught. Sonovabitch. Might as well give it up. Why didn't he get some ******** stealth along with all this feline bullshit?!

He tried to slip back further into the darkness again, trying with great pains to not make a bunch of noise this time.

Since Antony had moved closer, she was able to see the foliage move ever so slightly. Sighing softly, she peered into the forest, taking a couple of steps so that she was in the jungle, eyes coming in better focus now that she was out of the light.

"You may be black but you're not invisible," Antony muttered, placing one hand on her hip as the other one reached out cautiously in the general direction of his very faint outline. "It's only me here tonight..."

She hoped that he'd come out on his own, especially since she knew that he probably hadn't had anything to eat even with his newfound senses and whatnot. "Have some of the meat with me?" Giving him a hopeful look, or rather the general Jamal shadow a hopeful look, Antony lowered her arm and simply waited. "I'll even put a massage on the table~."

Hopefully that would tempt him.

Jamal's eyes narrowed some at her initial comment; yeah, he was well aware he wasn't invisible otherwise this would have been a hell of a lot easier. Dammit.

The second comment of being alone did strike a chord of favor in him. Well, if it was just her, at least she'd already seen how ******** awful he looked. Then he could eat and slink off to his emo tree again, perhaps. Gods he was hungry...he could swear that he could smell the residue meat stench that tended to linger around a fire after smoking a large portion of meat at once. That was probably impossible, but it was nice to daydream about.

The offer of a massage oddly did not make him jump out of the brush and yell "Take me now". Rather, it made him twinge uncertainly and not in a pleasant way either. Well...he'd see.

Figuring it was time to give up, since she apparently knew he was there, he slowly hauled himself to his feet and moved forward enough so that his faint outline was well-defined against the dark shadows and plant life. "...food would be a'ight wit' me," he admitted after a long pause, though he was reluctant to leave the apparent security of the jungle.

The moment he stepped into the more lighted edge of the jungle, Antony's eyes went to the wounds she had seen him inflict on himself the other day. Deilicately, she reached out to survey the damage more closely, "And we'll sanitize these wounds so they don't get infected."

Looking up finally to meet his eyes, she smiled, relieved to see that he was okay and aside from how dirty he was, that he didn't look too bad. It took a load off her shoulders to know that he was 'safe' if one left the fact that he just transformed.

Wrapping an arm loosely around his waist, Antony tugged him towards camp before he could change his mind. "I'm glad to see you're not dead, considering the shape you were at the beginning of this s**t." She spoke to him as if he were still the same old Jamal because to her, he was, but she also knew that he didn't exactly think that. Thus she tried not to say anything that would set him off again.

Jamal stared mutely at her whilst she checked out his self-inflicted wounds, his whiskers pressed back against his cheeks in a bid to either make them look less apparent or to keep them from brushing the surrounding plant-life. The damn things were driving him nuts with how sensitive they were.

The tug at his waist met resistance for only a moment or two until he finally made himself walk forward into the open air. As the jungle's comforting presense was left behind, he had to force himself not to grow twitchy and give up on the whole food idea for the night in exchange for another night off in the jungle. It was a wonder he was even able to walk around or had the energy to be as much of an a*****e as he was the other night considering how little he had been eating.

It was pretty clear he wasn't feeling like himself for the fact that normally he'd probably be sneaking a grope in as they were walking across the sand and he certainly felt tense against the curve of her arm. That and he was abnormally quiet; usually he'd be jabbering nonstop, cracking jokes.

He gave a forced, brief laugh and avoided eye contact for the moment. "I'm surprised I ain't dead yet...Give me time," he mumbled absently. "I'll settle fo' some food first though."

"I'd rather not give it time, I like you alive," she gave him a genuine smile when she released him and made her way to the 'fridge'. After digging around in it, she pulled out a ziplock of jerky and passed him a couple of pieces before closing the bag back up and replacing it where it came from. Moments later, she passed him a bottle of water, which she opened for him before handing it his way. "At least you don't have the flu anymore," Antony grinned lightly before sitting down next to the fire.

She patted the sand next to her and nibbled on a few chunks of coconut meat, not really knowing what to say to him. "You going to stay here or leave me again after eating?" The comment wasn't exactly a jab, but she did ask him cautiously, her own deep violet eyes watching his bright blue ones for any extra hints.

Jamal took the offered meat without any prodding and started to gnaw on a piece immediately whilst she went for the bottle of water. His new, sharper teeth easily cut the tough jerky with ease, which he found to be both useful and annoying. He'd rather have to struggle to chew on his food if it meant he didn't have them but trying to hide them proved to be ridiculous, especially while he was stuffing his face. Food first, playing jedi mind tricks on himself later. The water was drank in a more slow, deliberate manner...he wasn't lacking in hydration as much as he was in food.

He lingered by the fridge for a few moments before eventually taking a seat on the offered sand patch, careful not to drop the precious bits of meat as he did so, and chewed on the remainders of the first piece with a thoughtful, yet semi-morose manner. "I...dunno," he answered noncommittally, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "...I dunno if I should stay. Might be betta' if I jus' go get lost again." He wasn't trying dig for sympathy. He was serious...he wasn't sure if he could trust himself not to go apeshit on the next person who came up to the camp and made some comment on his current situtation. Jamal had no faith in about 70% of the islanders he had met and he had yet to see anything to prove him wrong.

"I wouldn't mind the company," she started, watching him quietly for a moment before continuing in a more annoyed tone, "But damn if I really smell that offensive the least you could have done was tell me." To top it off, she added a mock huff to the end of her statement.

A glance over to him clearly showed she was joking with him, though her face grew serious once more, and she frowned lightly. "Seriously, why wouldn't I want you to stay?"

It was obvious that she didn't give a rat's a** that he had transformed, and that she wasn't holding a grudge against him for nearly shredding her shoulder. Reaching over, she gave him a friendly squeeze on his upper thigh; there was nothing sexual about the motion.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up, and Antony grinned almost sadistically, eyes gleaming with excitement, "Want to hear something funny as hell?"

Jamal snorted some and tapped his nose, though he did grin ever so slightly. "********, if ya smelled, believe me, I'd tell ya," he remarked before inhaling another piece of meat and then sipped more water, giving her an appraising look. She was either a good actor or she really did not care that he looked like a freak...and he wasn't sure if he should be relieved or what at this point. It wasn't so much her he was worried about, it was everyone else....but it wasn't like they mattered all that much. Antony was his friend and she obviously didn't like him running off like that. Well...he'd see.

The change of topic caught him off-guard and he swapped the look of solemn thought for one of curiousity. "Huh?"

"You know the priest on the island? Stewart?" Antony looked quite evil with her sadistic features being lit up by the fire, and she intended to drag this story on as long as possible and as make it as dramatic as possible.

She waited for him to acknowledge her before continuing on, "Well~ I think he's screwed himself over and fallen for me... Or some s**t like that. Looked like he was going to piss his pants when he told me."

And then Antony cackled, steepling her fingers together as she glanced at Jamal to catch his reaction. "Oh I shall have so much fun with the poor horny virgin priest." Glee was nearly oozing from her pores.

Jamal listened to her talk, having nothing to inject except for a nod or whatnot when she asked the first question, and continued to eat his food. Stewart...he wasn't sure if he had met the priest yet. He met that Chana girl...but not a priest.

When Antony explained the situation, even the sullen Jamal couldn't help but gape at her, a light of amusement flickering across his face. "Yer ********' kiddin' me," he exclaimed. "You got a ********' priest all hot n' bothered?!"

Hoooooly s**t.

"My dear Jamal," Antony began dramatically, putting a hand over her heart to accentuate her words, "I would never kid about something ever so damn ******** awesome."

Her healthy grin continued to gleam in the firelight, "I'm going to have so much fun with him... He had a blazing hard on when I first met him too..." She absently buffed her nails on her shirt, which had seen many a better days. Stopping, she looked over at Jamal again, calming down somewhat. "I just had to tell you. Knew you'd get a kick out of it."

Jamal smirked heavily and tapped his chin absently with a clawed finger before he realized what he was doing, then jammed it back into his lap to put his hands out of plain sight.

"You women are so damn mean," he chided, shaking his head in mock-disapproval. "But...how ********' funny. Poor guy...'n' a priest of all of the people..."

The thought did illicit a chuckle, though his expression was somewhat distant again.

Her grin shrank when she saw the quick hiding motion he made with his hand, pausing a moment before clearing her throat and speaking, "I'd think you would have figured that I really don't care that you've transformed... Cause you're still Jamal. A more dangerous Jamal, but Jamal all the same."

Antony continued to look him in the eyes to make sure he understood before she turned her glance to the fire for a bit. "And I've decided that you're staying with me tonight," she turned back towards him and smiled, "Nobody blocks out the wind quite like you do."

Dangerous. He frowned at that. Yeah...he was pretty dangerous...not that that was entirely a bad thing.

It was then he remembered what he had done to Awen and he blanced slightly in the face. Oooh ********. He was going to definately win some friends by the time this whole thing was over, he thought sarcastically. With some effort, he pushed that whole new trainwreck out of his mind for the time being. One drama at a time. Instead, he force another grin and a shrug. "At least I'm good fo' sumthin'." Jamal purposefully did not agree or disagree with her comment of him staying. If he wanted to leave, there was really nothing she could do to physically stop him...

He was well aware that Antony obviously wanted him to stay but he really wasn't sure it was a good idea. Then again, she was obviously sensitive of how shitty he felt about the entire transformation thing, so it wasn't like he was going to tear her apart. She was smart.

"Oh stop emoing about it," Antony sighed, tired of him moping around about his transformation. s**t happens, they obviously can't escape this island, so why not just adapt? Frowning at him, she gave him a 'stop being a baby' look before actually commenting on the situation, "I mean, now if you ever wanted to tear Moreau a new one, it'll be much damn easier. Or Ambrose if you want."

Shrugging, Antony paused a moment before shifting onto her kness and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "The longer you linger on the bad s**t, the worse it's going to be for you. It's your choice really."

With an absent rub to his stomach, Antony sat back down and popped a few more chunks of coconut meat into her mouth.

His eyes narrowed dangerously at her initial comments and his jaw tensed but he didn't say anything, instead opting to glare at the fire. Yeah, so what if he was being whiny. He was turning into a ******** animal and god forbid that he hadn't embraced it with open arms. The Ambrose comment only garnered a huffed grunt and the clink of claws being tapped together in his lap.

The kiss on his forehead and the tummy rub did manage to stem the flow of irritation that boiled benath the surface, which was then blown away into a heavy sigh and whisker twitch. What exactly did she expect of him right now?

It was then that his attention was turned to the rest of the smoked jerky in his hands, which he returned to chewing on, staring into the fire again with a less morose, more serene expression. Even as much as he didn't really feel like being social, he was at least thankful that one person on the island gave a ******** where he was. He supposed he ought to be more grateful.

Anger was to be expected with her comments, and Antony didn't seem bothered by it so much, though she was quite pleased with the results of the kiss and belly rub.

Curiously, Antony reached over and lazily scritched his stomach, watching out of the corner of her eyes to see his reaction. Maybe belly scritches would be to him like back massages were to her?

One could only hope.

Jamal paused in mid bite, feeling her hand on the flat of his stomach again, and tried not to look like it at all felt oddly comforting. The tension in his face though sort of drifted away though, which was fairly obvious thanks to the lighting of the fire. It wasn't even like it was a sexual sort of pleasure. Rather, it was just sort of a "hey, that's really relaxing" feeling.

Antony smiled to herself, and continued her motions while watching his face with a secretive smug grin. Oh she was absolutely awesome. Shifting behind him, she wrapped her arms around his mid section so she could scritch with both hands instead of just one. "So... You sure you don't want to stay?"

Damn her....and why the hell did that feel so relaxing?! Jamal tried to keep his attention forward and his resolve unwavering but was failing miserably.

"Uh...dunno...yet..." said the black man, unconsciously letting tension ease from his jaw, neck, and shoulders as she scritched.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, lazily leaning against his back with a yawn as she closed her eyes in content. "Mhm," the woman murmured softly, her hands moving slow and intentional as she tried to make him even more relaxed. Just like a kitten.

It seemed that she was bound and determined to get him out of his emo funk and was doing a good job of it. Kind of hard not to when one was being distracted with marvelous tummy rubs and a snuggling woman at your back. His eyes eventually half-lidded and he gave a little sigh of clear contentment, almost as though he were on the verge of falling asleep there and then. He wasn't going to, but he felt relaxed enough to do so.

Damn her.

She absently nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, offering him a sort of happy, low murr to show that she was glad he was relaxing, which she could easily feel. Her motions wouldn't stop for a while, so she contented herself with the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach. "See, still Jamal."

"I guess so," he finally mumbled as he mulled her statement over silently. He didn't feel like Jamal...at least, entirely...but he figured she was right. The relaxation made it easier to think more clearly, now that he wasn't stressing out over food and randomly turning into some beast. Claws and fangs didn't really change him that much, or so he had decided to desperately hope. After all, he apparently still liked the ladies and was easily swayed using the right 'methods'.

He let her nuzzle into his neck even though again he felt that odd urge to be evasive for a moment.

"Sometimes I wonda' why you put up wit' me," he remarked in a detached manner. "I'mma pain in da a**."

Antony paused at his question, thinking over it for a moment. "Well," she started lazily, "We're friends. You look out for me and I look out for you. That's what friends do."

The woman smiled, eyes cracking to look down and over at the black man, "And on top of that the sex is mind blowing." And dear gods she hoped this lockdown would be over soon. She could not live without sex.

Her second response couldn't help but make him laugh a little...yay for ego points! "Glad ya approve," he drawled lazily, grinning to himself. "I try...'n' I mean both on da friend thing 'n' da sex thing."

It seemed that he was feeling more like his old self now that he had a little food in his system and had his ego stroked.

"That I do," she chuckled, sitting up on her knees so she could lean more over him, pressing her lips against his own. It was her way of agreeing with his statement, and another way to show how she really didn't give a crap that he was changing. That and he'd need to learn how to kiss again anyways. So now, she was his tutor.

Afterwards, she resettled back to the position in which she had been sitting in before the kiss, murring pleasantly. "Yep, still blowing."

Well that certainly caught him off-guard; he hadn't figured she'd be all up on the whole make-out with a pseudo-cat thing. It wasn't like he didn't appreciate the gesture. It was another effective confidence booster though and turns out it wasn't so much different...he just had the whole fang thing to keep aware of. He tried his best, in any case.

As she settled behind his back again, he too gave a murring sort of sigh. It sounded almost like a real purr that one might get out of a housecat...it came from low in his throat...almost his chest even.

She yawned deeply before closing her eyes again and giving his stomach a few final rubs before nestling back against him. The purr like noise comforted her as well, letting her know that she hadn't pushed past any limits. This knowledge made her much more relaxed, and quite content.

Antony was glad that he wasn't as freaked out as he had been before, and especially glad that she had figured out his weakness.

Men always had some weakness, it just turned out that Jamal's was pretty to find. Good for her, better for him.

At this point it was probably safe to say he wasn't going anywhere, at least for the night; he was too damn comfortable there with the fire at the front, Antony snuggled to his back, and soft sand to sit on instead of hard tree branch. He peered at the fire sleepily for a moment, then held up a hand to examine it in the glow of the fire. Not just a glance either. He really examined the changes there with a critical, but calm eye. It looked so different now than it did when he was in absolute horror over the situation.

Antony pressed her lips against the side of his neck twice before yawning and returning to using him as a pillow of sorts. The truth was, she was damn tired from working in the early morning and late afternoon gathering firewood and the like, but she also didn't want to disturb Jamal.

"M'tired," she mumbled softly against his skin, not really wanting to move, but also not being able to fall asleep sitting in this position.

Jamal flicked his fingers while he examined them, then plopped the hand back into his lap after seeing all he cared to see. He sort of liked the claws...they could be useful. The rest would take getting used to.

He was going to comment on something, but a wide yawn interrupted before he could get a word out. Truth was, he didn't get much sleep between falling out of a tree the first night and spending the rest on an improvised bed of rotting leaf litter.

"I could prolly use some sleep...bed ain't a bad idea," he agreed, though his words were a bit less mumbled than her statement. "Plus you sound like yer 'bout ta fall asleep right there on ma back."

With his statements, she let her arms loosen before dragging herself towards the 'bed' by the fire, somehow managing to kick her shoes and pants off on the way there. They were tossed aside, away from the fire, and the tattooed woman lazily patted the sand next to her. "C'mere Mr. WindBlocker." She said in the midst of a yawn, eyes squinting comically.

She sat up somewhat before shucking her shirt off and tossing it with her pants. "Feeling better?" She finally asked, her face as serious as it could be for as tired as she was portraying.

Hopefully she helped.

Jamal followed obediently. He had nothing to take off except his tattered jeans, so that was easily dealt with before he made himself comfy on the fire-warmed sand. He propped his head up on a hand.

"I'll be a'ight," he answered, almost doing so in a wistful tone. It would just take time, that's all. "Don't worry 'bout me."

Antony smiled slightly and nodded, yawning again before moving to turn away from him on her side, though not moving far. Scooching back against him, she shifted a bit before getting comfortable and falling still. "G'night," she whispered hoarsely before falling silent.. It wasn't long before her breathing deepened and she fell into a rather deep slumber.

Jamal let her get comfy and settled while he made last second adjustments for himself; it was his turn to get snuggly.

While she was quick to nod off, it took him longer...but he eventually drifted off after a time.

The tattooed woman yawned, only dressed in her skivvies as she rolled over onto her stomach, successfully sprawling across the palm frond 'bed.' Once again it was midday, and therefore Antony was napping out of the sun after washing her clothes.

Though she wasn't entirely asleep, she also wasn't entirely awake either.

Jamal had been gone for the most of the early morning, feeling restless and unable to wind down enough to nap, spending his time in the jungle looking for more edible plants and possibly some signs of life. He had found little; there were some berries he had found that birds had been eating, so he'd taken a handful or so of them into his jean pockets for later evaluation to deem if they were human-edible or not. He had also taken a jaunt towards the village with hopes that maybe something had developed there, but no...everything was still locked down tight and the labs looked as offline as everyone had said. Lovely.

He eventually headed back for the beach and had deposited the berries by the fridge. Seeing Antony's form laid out on the palm frond bed, he then wandered off towards the ocean to dabble in the shallows to think and to let her nap if that's what she wanted. The black man stood in about mid-ankle deep water and stared out hard at the horizon for a few minutes before plodding deeper into the water, taking a sitting position in the gently breaking waves so that they struck about waist high.

Antony grunted as she heard him return, peeking out above her arms at him while he waded into the ocean. Sitting up a bit more, but still remaining on her stomach, she blinked several times to get used to the bright sun before watching Jamal curiously, trying to gauge his mood from the distance.

It was hard, and Antony frowned, not sure whether she should stay where she was or pay him a visit in the water. He looked peaceful from here, and she didn't exactly want to interrupt him if he was in a pleasant mood.

He was in a decent mood; generally a romp in the jungle perked him up decently so that he wasn't going to go off about one thing or another. It was just the fact that the ocean was there, looked inviting, and did double-duty of washing the muck from his bare feet and gave him an excuse to sit and ponder whatever it was that he felt like thinking about.

The tiger man drew handfuls of sand into his grip, sifting through it for shells or whatever random things he could find, the stinging scent of salt-water strong on his sensitive nose. He didn't know he was being watched and probably wouldn't have cared either way. He more or less figured she was sleeping.

After evaluating the situation and his mood, Antony pushed herself to a standing position, taking her time to stretch before making her way down the sand towards the water.

"Care for some company?" She asked when she got within hearing distance, not waiting for an answer as she stepped into the waves. The water was only up to her ankles as she waited for his response before joining him entirely.

Jamal turned at the sound of her voice, whiskers twitching absently, and gave the water a slap as though saying there was some ocean right there with her name on it. "Wouldn't botha' me none," he answered agreeably, shoving the other hand full of sand back into the water to again graze the surface in another spot in search of shells. "Woulda asked ya while I was up there but I figgered you was sleepin'."

Antony grinned, slipping into the water next to him, but wading a little further so that she didn't have to sit in the water for it to come to a comfortable level on her body.

"I was, but I woke up before you came back," She chuckled, flicking some water at him before relaxing into the water.

"Ah," he replied, smirking at the water flick before retaliating with a lazy splash in her direction. If she wanted to have a water battle, he was up for it.

"I stopped at da village while I was out," Jamal commented as he sifted a large shell fragment from the sand and lifted it up to inspect it. "Ya know, it's like one of them damn ghost town things dat ya see on TV...nuthin's workin'... didn't see anyone." He looked a little worried as he said this, wondering if this was a sign that maybe they were really screwed. He hadn't seen the village before; this was the first time he had managed to get a good look.

Antony ducked to the side, smiling crookedly before sinking lower into the water, knees bent as she let herself bob in the waves.

His news about the village dampened her smile, but it didn't extinguish it entirely. "Ah, well... We would have noticed the lights if the power came back on right? 'Sides, someone would have told us... Lots of people know we have a camp here." It wasn't like Antony to be optimistic, but what she said wasn't exactly a lie. She was being reasonable.

"I'm happy to see you're feeling better," she said, changing subjects almost immediately, moving a hand to scratch under one of her bra straps.

"Yeah, yous prolly right," he agreed in reference to the lights and whatnot, tossing the shell bit back into the water. "'Bout ev'ryone knows where we be...I ran inta Amaya 'n' Awen da otha day while I was walkin' 'round. Seems like ev'ryone be out scoutin' fo' s**t lately."

He then gave a nonchalant shrug at her next statement, though he looked far more serene than he had in a long time. A lot of it had to do with those previously mentioned encounters with Amaya and Awen; both had gone surprisingly well and had lessened his fear of total rejection to some extent. That and he had finally sat down with Awen and worked things out, which was one less thing to stress about. He was basically drifting about in a sort of limbo right now and that suited him fine. "I'm gettin' used ta all this," he commented, waving a clawed hand to emphasis the this. "Kinda hard not to when ya see it all da damn time."

Nodding, she dunked herself unceremoniously under the water before coming up and shaking her hair from her face. Her hair, which had long faded in the sun, leaving the blue and purple a dirty bleached blonde color, had also grown several inches during their 'stay' on the beach, and she wasn't too keen on the 'style' it had taken.

"None of us have much choice in the matter, looks as if we get sick if we don't change..." Antony frowned, referring openly to the fact that immediately after he had finished transforming, Jamal was no longer with sickness. It couldn't be much of a coincidence.

Jamal could sympathize with hair troubles. He had the makings of some wonderful dreads at this point. He didn't bother to try and pick the braids out and redo them; his claws would never allow it, first of all. Secondly he didn't have the required equipment to rebraid them decently. He was pretty much resigned to the fact he'd have to cut them off at some point.

He snorted and sat up straighter, pulling himself into an indian-style seating position. "Dat bein' sick s**t was ********' awful...I wanna know how they gettin' injections in wit'out' havin' da lab workin'. Dat s**t is fishy as all hell if ya ask me."

"Yeah, it is... But at least you're not sick anymore right?" She smiled, standing up and out of the water so she could fondly ruffle his dreads before using his head as an arm rest. "Don't ever stand up... I like feeling tall," Antony said with a cheeky grin, standing up straighter to add to her sarcasm.

Not that she thought that discussing the labs being down theories were pointless, but that she really didn't care to think about them at the moment. When she started getting sick as a dog, then she'd worry.

"I guess." Again he gave a shrug, but lifted a brow when he felt pressure on his head from her using it as an armrest. Her comment made him smirk and he turned his head beneath her limb to give an equally cheeky grin that exposed his canines.

"s**t, I'll say down herr...ain't a bad view," he said brightly as he blatantly gave her a look over.

His comment wasn't a surprise, and Antony simply gave him a playful shove with her arm, "Well in that case..." Her eyes lit up as Antony removed her arm and dropped back into the water so it was lapping at her shoulders, tilting her gaze up towards him in an absolute innocent gaze.

Jamal gave a feigned pout, crossing his arms over his chest to sulk. "Aw, why ya gotta play a brotha like dat," he inquired in a tone of mock injury, giving her his best indignant stare.

"Because I'm a respectable woman," she started indignantly, mocking his stare, but ended up laughing within seconds. Once her laughter had died down, she simply leaned against him, lolling her head in order to look upwards at him, "'Sides, where's the fun in that for me?" Her eyebrow raised in a challenging gesture.

Jamal rolled his eyes at her initial comment, still smirking, and wasn't surprised when she couldn't hold a straight face. He knew better than to think she didn't like his attention.

"s**t, friendship ain't always 'bout gettin' sumthin' in return," he retorted in the cheesiest tone he could possibly muster, trying to get a serious look on his face. Of course, he failed miserably.

Antony's face mirrored Jamal's, and it was soon returned to laughter. It was moments beofre she calmed down enough to stop being amused at all of this and glanced at her hands. "I'm getting pruny," she declared with a frown, promptly standing up and heading back in the direction of the fire.

She made sure to accentuate her curves with every step up the beach. Once a tease, always a tease.

Jamal, being at typical male, stared at her as she retreated. "Hey, da view back herr ain't dat bad either," he said smugly before eventually hauling himself up and out of the ocean to follow. The salt was starting to sting his nose anyway.

"Oh I know," she called to him, not even bothering to look back to him.

By the time he caught up with her, Antony was already sprawled out on the palm fronds, half sitting and half laying, in order to dry out by the fire. She lazily watched him with half lidded eyes, her hands behind her rear in order to prop her up.

Jamal lifted a brow and nonchalantly went around to the -other- side of the fire, pausing there to wring water from his jeans as if a half-naked woman lounging provocatively on palm fronds was the least interesting thing in the world. Quite the contrary, but it wasn't as much fun to give in so easy.

She knew he was playing hard to get, or rather just throwing a dose of her own back at her. Antony continued to watch him with mild interest, in the end, the result would be the same. And they both knew that.

Jamal continued with his jeans for a few more minutes before stretching lazily, still not looking over at Antony directly but very much aware of her location. It wasn't just a normal sense of awareness either...it was different in a way he couldn't quite place. He didn't question it though.

After his stretch, he casually wandered over to a patch of available palm frond close by but not too close. Not yet anyway.

Considering herself dry enough on the one side, Antony rolled over onto her stomach, very much aware that she was in a thong. Stretching out, she closed her eyes and faced away from the fire so her hair could dry a bit as well.

With a free hand and in one deft motion, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra before pulling it free and tossing it on the drying rack. All of this was smugly accomplished without a hint of n****e to be seen.

"Clever," Jamal muttered under his breath, probably loud enough to hear, and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He wasn't nearly as good at this game as she was, being that he was male and impatient, but this time he decided to hang back and remain only semi-interested. What would she do then?

There was only a hint of a smirk visible after he made that comment, and as if she read his mind, Antony shifted the arm closest to Jamal down by her side. The arm squeezed between the girls and the palm fronds, covering the important 'areas' as she rolled onto her side facing him. This move was solely to see his expression better while they were at this little game. Her free arm moved to prop herself up, the other still keeping the twins hidden well enough.

Jamal retained an expression of cool and calm, doubled reflected in his ice blue eyes which watched the entire scene yet did not seem to respond like his dark brown ones did. Rather, the blue hue seemed more piercing than the brown. He wasn't aware of this effect but would have been pleased for it suited him well during this 'game'.

He didn't say anything, though he too stretched lazily, enjoying himself a great deal in this situation. However, odds were against him that he'd keep to himself for long because the predator that shared his body apparently wanted a say in this and was slowly making itself a presence in his thought patterns.

Purring low in her throat simply to see the effects that it would have on the now part feline. Her eyelids drooped to slits as she continued to watch him, eyes casually trailing down his form to lay on even more pressure. On top of that, Antony took to nibbling on her lip, and then the metal of her lip ring.

Waiting was a game she could win.

Oh she was good. Very good.

Jamal's calm facade wavered, his whiskers twitching suddenly at the sound emitting from the woman hardly more than two yards away. His fingertips twitched also and he drew his arms in towards his body after the stretch, turning so he was sitting up more than lying. Clearly his entire attention was on her now.

And she knew it.

The barely clad woman quirked an eyebrow up as if to challenge him, letting her arm covering the girls shift a bit for a smidge more of a view for Jamal. Her expression just screamed 'come and get it if you want it,' and she wasn't going to settle for anything less. In fact, after the messege was relayed, Antony carefully rolled over to her other side without exposing herself, causing the prime view of the twins to be obscured.

It was this 'cut off' that got him. You couldn't show this man the goods (or part of them) and then casually roll away without doing -something- to him, especially at this point. The nagging impulses in his brain finally won.

He shifted off his palm fronds, crawling the distance between his spot and her spot easily because it wasn't far, and lightly reached out to brush along her spine with the back of his hand. It was an acknowledgement that she had won, per usual, but the tiger in him didn't care. This wasn't about a game anymore.

She shivered, back arching instinctively against the light touch, as she let out a low murr of approval. It wasn't long before she shifted rather fluidly to her back, letting her one arm lay just up over her head while the other slid off her chest to her side.

Her eyes were a bit more open, though not much, and her full attention was on his odd blue eyes. Despite the fact that she had 'won,' Antony wasn't about to push to hard since this was another first after his transformation. She was letting him have control now.

To Jamal, this was like any other time. It was almost as though he had no recollection that he had even transformed at all; the difference was the increased sensory perception and the reactions to the information he could pick up from those senses. The responses were not of the human Jamal's instincts entirely either.

When she rolled onto her back, he easily moved into a straddling position over her bare abdomen, a hand plant firmly against the palm fronds on either side of her shoulder. He didn't move to touch her yet otherwise, instead staring back at her with eyes that reflected an increasing predatory nature.

Despite her own urges to touch him further, Antony left him in control, the look in his eyes predatory enough to keep her from crossing the animal side of him. Limits could be pushed another time.

With those types of thoughts finally cast aside, the woman beneath him was now focused entirely on the man above her. His gaze sent a warm flush over her contrasting skin, the hair on the back of her neck prickling pleasantly.

And since he was no longer genetically human, to Antony, this meant no risk of pregnancy.

Jamal could have cared less at the moment about the pregnancy issue, which thankfully wasn't an issue any longer. It would have probably been too late to try and stop what was inevitable anyway. Consequences were nothing to him.

He was aware that he was in control and he would make the most of it...the control was what his bestial mind wanted and had achieved.

She had won her game, but now it was his turn and he would, without fail, win.

It was several hours later and her clothes were still not dry enough to her liking, so Antony was still in the Beach Bar, absently watching the rain continue to fall. In fact, she had so much to do and was so busy, that she decided to break out one of her cigarettes.

She was smoking the treasured cancer stick at the moment, taking her time and savoring it down to the filter.

Hopefully wherever Jamal was, he was okay. Antony was starting to worry when he didn't show up during the night. Once she realized he wasn't there, or rather, once she fully woke up.

Frowning, she closed her eyes and sighed, taking another satisfying drag of her smoke.

Sweet sweet nicotine.

Jamal had never really went to sleep last night, unable to find a decently dry place to rest. He would have slept at camp, but he had tromped back the night the rainfall had started and discovered that Antony was quite happily cuddled up with some strange guy he had NEVER seen before. It might have been different if Jamal had some idea who this guy was, but he had no clue.

It struck him in an odd manner...maybe it was the fact that Rex was completely human or maybe because Jamal had a tendancy to 'claim' women as his (even more so now with his predatory instinct)...but he felt betrayed. She didn't seem concerned about him at all. She looked downright comfy there on the floor of the bar with this stranger. Jamal wasn't stupid; he knew what Antony's motive was.

Feeling somewhat brushed aside, he had went back into the jungle a ways and found shelter under a thickly branched tree which blocked some, but not all the rain. The noise on the foliage was too loud to allow him to sleep well, plus his mood was soured, so he had spent the night brooding. That, of course, was never a good thing for him to do.

When he did finally leave the jungle for the cold beach, he was still annoyed and decided to go wade in the ocean to get some of the mud off his legs and clothing that he had acquired on his travels. He didn't pay much attention to the camp or the bar, thus didn't see Antony sitting there with her cig.

If the tattooed woman's eyes hadn't been closed, she may have seen Jamal walk by, but instead, she didn't even notice he was back. The rain drowned out the sound of his walking, and the waves were crashing violently due to the storm.

Unfortunately, the one cigarette didn't last her too long, and she was soon down to the filter, grumbling curses at the leftover butt.

She wondered if they had any alcohol left, cracked her eyes open, and then rolled over on her hands and knees to rummage around for that and some food.

God damn thunderstorm.

Jamal paused at the very edges of where the waves assaulted the beach, thinking clearly enough to know that it probably wasn't a good idea to go too deep or he'd get swamped by a wave. He felt shitty, but he sure as hell wasn't suicidal.

After cautiously wading in to about mid-shin, he stooped over to use his hands to free the mud and debris from his legs. It was difficult because of the abrupt water-level changes due to the waves, but he managed to get most of it off. Once that was done, he shucked off his jeans, leaving the boxers on, and gave them a vigorous rubbing underneath the water in hopes of getting them a little cleaner than they were. By now, the jeans were more shorts than anything, the knees so torn out from the pant's brief stint of rock-transporting.

God he hoped this bullshit with the labs was cleared up soon...he didn't even want to think about what his hair looked like right now, nor the fact that he was certain that all the food he had stolen from the cafeteria was positively rancid there in his duplex. He missed his room, his music, his bed, and his pot.

As he stood, he glanced towards the beach bar out of reflex, and saw Antony rummaging around for something. Hmmph. Maybe her new friend would help. He gave her a pointed glare from where he stood, but didn't care if she saw it or not.

He put his jeans back on and left the ocean, caring little that he was now getting sandy (once it dried, it'd fall off cleaner than mud would), and went to investigate the contraption over the damaged fire, catching a sniff of something smokesque on the air. Maybe the fire had faired better than he thought if it could still produce smoke. He didn't think much else of it until he reached the pit.

The once-blazing fire was nothing more than a soft sizzling pile of ash and soggy wood, hardly smoke-producing material. There were still hot coals, at least. Maybe if the rain let up, he could start the fire up again. Oddly enough, the scent of smoke lingered in his nose that he had at first thought to be from this fire, but now he could get an afterscent of tobacco from it. Again he looked up out of habit; Antony had to be smoking 'something'.

Antony stopped rummaging for alcohol when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. It didn't take long for her to figure out who it was, and a relieved grin came across her features. She was honestly happy that he was okay and not bleeding as far as she could tell.

"Jamal?" She questioned, just in case, as she stood up and moved towards the doorway. "I was worried the trap had caught you..." She jested nervously, trailing off when she caught sight of his not so happy demeanor.

Something didn't feel right, but she simply passed his bad mood off on the fact that he had been stuck in the rain all night, "Come out of the rain...?" It was a hopeful request, and she motioned him inside.

She had a bad feeling about this.

Jamal's brows shifted from a position of curiousity to a position of being knit ever so slightly, giving his overall expression an icy quality when his gaze also lost it's objective concern over the fire and narrowed.

"I managed jus' fine," he said flatly, turning his gaze away from her to prod at the coals with a stick that remained in the kindling pile in a feigned attempt to perhaps kick-start the flames. "I helped build da damn pit, rememba'? I know where it be."

He realized how pointless it was to mess with the fire, since it continued to rain, but it gave him something to do while he contemplated his options. The offer to come in out of the rain did little to brighten his spirits. Yeah, he'd probably eventually end up in the bar, but not under circumstances he was happy with.

Antony had no clue that Jamal had seen her with Rex, nor was it even considered as a reason for his foul mood. He knew the 'terms' of their relationship, and he didn't get irritated when she mentioned trying to ******** Stewart. Therefore, the tattooed woman was very confused as to why he was pissy.

"You look like s**t," she commented dryly, crossing her arms over her chest with a frown, "So get your a** in here before you get sick." Antony wasn't about to take no for an answer, and if she had to she'd drag him in herself. But that was still a last option considering she was still near naked and the rain was cold.

Sighing deeply, she ran a hand over her face, letting her tone soften before continuing, "What, other than the rain, pissed you off?"

"Yeah, well I feel like s**t," he retorted bluntly as water dripped down his face, throwing the stick carelessly off into exile on the beach again as he left what remained of the little fire shelter. She did have a point in that he would get sick if he stayed out in the rain much longer...he was probably already screwed on that aspect though, being that he spent the night in this.

The fact that he hadn't seen further sign of the strange man was about the only thing that gave him any sort of urge to join Antony under the roof of the bar. Hopefully he wouldn't come back.

Her final question was ignored pointedly, though he heard it easily enough as it was voiced as he came closer to the bar, and instead went to brush the sand off his legs. His patience with that didn't last long so he gave up quickly and took a seat on the concrete, displeasure at the hard surface evident as he tapped a hand on the 'floor' and gave a silent snarl. Jamal didn't seem to care that his jeans were soaked and dripping puddles on the floor.

Well that didn't make things any clearer, and that left Antony to simply frown as he came in.

Though she stayed silent for a while, letting him brood to himself, Antony wasn't exactly too happy with the trail of water heading in her direction. However, she also didn't want to sound like a nagging mother or girlfriend of sorts.

"The hell with it," she finally grumbled, "Take off your pants Jamal so I can hang them to dry, and then I can try and help get you warm. It's the best we can do without a fire." The woman, surprisingly, was not talking about having sex to get warm, but instead was refering to her simply sharing body heat with the tiger man. "C'mon, there's still jerky left too..."

His eyes had grown distant as he stared out towards the ocean again with his back to her, whiskers drawn in against his cheeks as his skin goosebumped from the chill of the ocean wind on his soggy form. The odd silence that fell suited him well enough; he could sit out of the rain and not have to talk. That was just fine and dandy.

But apparently that wasn't going to be the case. His eyes narrowed and rolled a bit as she started to gripe about his jeans and him being cold. That didn't bring a comment out of the man, but the jerky comment sparked his tongue before he could think better of it.

"Oh? I thought maybe ya mighta given it all away since ya like bein' so nice ta complete strangers."

A light bulb clicked the moment he spoke.

"Ohh~ So that's what you're pissy about..." She said, relieved a little, jealousy she could handle. Besides this explained a lot, "He just washed up on the beach before the storm happened, found him in the storm... There was no sex, I gave up my portion of the food in return for some body heat, and then he left this morning. Not my fault he looked like Ryan Reynolds in the rain..."

The last part was slightly mumbled, but it was the truth.

"Besides," she continued, "It's not like you and I are... Dating..." Antony made a face with the last word, which came out quite strained.

After she had said her peace, Antony crawled over to him and began to try and rub some heat into his back, which felt like a giant sheet of ice.

Jamal rolled his eyes and kept his face towards the ocean, biting his tongue to attempt to hold back a snapping remark. It was -really- hard to explain why exactly he was mad. It wasn't jealousy, persay...if Jamal knew the guy, it would be different...but it was like this guy just sauntered in and took something from him. As far as the tiger in Jamal's mind, Antony was 'his' in the sense that Rex invaded his territory without permission. Jamal was up for sharing if he knew what was going on but he wanted it on his terms at least. When he came to the camp last night, he expected things to go as they normally did, and when he found out that wasn't the case, it wasn't appreciated. To further insult to injury, the stranger was fully-human and part of him wanted to bring that up. Either way, he felt brushed aside.

"Well ain't he lucky ta jus' wander ova' herr then 'n' get all fixed up. Woulda been a shame if he got some help from one of us freaks," Jamal said with a sarcastic laugh. "It must be nice ta be able to mistake someone fo' something as normal as some famous b*****d. Can't mistake someone like me fo' anyone like dat no mo'. Stars don't got ******** up faces and hands, hm?" Nevermind my sorry black a** was out in the jungle in this shitty storm and you didn't seem worried, he added privately.

The dating comment brought out an irritable snarl. He was well aware of that fact and liked it that way. Not that it mattered; he wasn't getting any action on the side anyway, so it wasn't like it was put to full advantage. He still had expectations...perhaps ones that he wasn't aware about until now, but expectations none-the-less.

The touch at his back made him exhale noisily and shrug away on impulse. Irritated Jamal + tiger instinct = no touchie.

"All fixed up?" She repeated, her next comment stopped when he continued. Realization hit her, again, and she narrowed her eyes. She even debated smacking him over the head, but her shoulder was proof enough not to do something like so. "Is that was this is about? That I've thrown you out and adopted a new man toy simply because he's not changed? That's bullshit!"

She was seething now, and scuttled back somewhat when he shrugged her off so violently. It only seemed to piss her off more.

"You don't get it do you?! I'm not that shallow and you're my FRIEND! If you haven't noticed yet, I'm ******** loyal to my friends and I care about you as a friend. We're stuck on this island and we're all going to change. I'm going to change..." She trailed off mid yell, chest heaving from the exertion as she realized what she had just uttered outloud. It was the first time she had admitted this to anyone, much less to herself.

Taking a deep breath, she continued on, trying not to let her voice waver, "Yes... I'm going to change... And what's going to happen then? Are you going to think that I'm unattractive and ditch me like you apprently think I have? Because I still think that you're still ******** hot... And I'm not looking to chuck you out... I mean really... Why would I throw out amazing sex and a great friend?"

Dropping to the ground so that she was sitting, Antony sighed roughly and shaking her head, "What do you want me to do Jamal?" Her voice was tired, and she simply shrugged, not knowing what else to say or do.

Antony was now utterly exhausted.

If she was asking him for a serious answer, she would have better luck asking the sand or the discarded palm fronds that lay abandoned by the pile of fire rubble. It didn't make complete sense to himself as he thought about all of this as a rational human being, yet the feelings of resentment and being tossed aside were there. It was a weird sense of betrayal that he wished he could explain but he couldn't and his clenched his fists in frustration over the situation, hiding them in his lap to hopefully stem any further conflict dealing with violence. As she grew irritated, he grew more frustrated and angry in response.

Oddly enough, the concept of 'friend' wasn't really something that meant a whole lot like it should...he had 'friends' in the gang, but those were people who, at the moment, weren't out to kill you. That status could change real fast. He didn't expect Antony to act like that (though the sudden choking experience could be debated on). He knew she meant something different when she said the word friend and he was trying to adjust his thinking, but his violent tendancies and frustrations were only being exagerrated by the foriegn thoughts interjected by his transformation which inevitably skewed his thinking.

Everything was fine before his thoughts could so easily be twisted by the predator's instincts and it even was worse when he couldn't see how and why he thought as he did at times.

"I don't know!" he finally growled in exasperation, throwing his arms up in a helpless gesture. "I don't know what you're gonna do or why you do things anymo' sumtimes. It don't all work out right in ma head 'n' I don't know why. I came outta dat ********' jungle lookin' for a place ta sleep 'n' I expected dat I'd be able ta do what I wanted wit'out a problem but I come out 'n' I see some strange ******** all cozy in a spot I figgered I'd have waitin' 'n' it didn't work right in ma head."

He rubbed at his face carelessly, nearly gouging a chunk out of his forehead with his claws and gave a 'murrph' of general dissatisfaction.

Antony stayed silent while he ranted, or rather while he messily explained himself. This way, she could dissect and digest what he was saying. Maybe then she'd be able to understand a bit better.

Sighing softly, she watched his back while he spoke, mentally cursing Rex. That's the last time she was going to be nice to a stranger in this survivor situation. Even if they were all wet and sexy.

After a bit of thought, it all began to make sense. "So you came back to camp when we were asleep, already irritated from the rain, and then got more pissed off..." She spoke slowly and softly, obviously tired and not really wanting to argue anymore about this.

"And now it's done and over with. He's gone, and now you're here... Back in your territory right?" The skantily clad woman sighed again before moving to crawl closer to Jamal. Tenatively, she touched her fingertips to his back.

"-Now- can I warm you up?" Antony said hopefully. He really was going to freeze if she didn't help warm him up.

He dropped his arms haphazardly back into his lap, still less than pleased over everything. He didn't feel like she -really- understood, but was making a show of doing the opposite so he'd leave the topic alone. Jamal wanted to argue, but now his physical exhaustion was surpasing his urge to cause more complications, and he closed his eyes there as he sat on the hard concrete. Surely being tired didn't help the situation.

Her last question garnered a mumbled "I don't care" and slumped over tiredly a bit, which could have been an answer to the question or a general, broad statement about all of what was going on. Jamal felt like he was getting dumber as the days passed and today only seemed to solidfy that theory.

A sigh of relief left her lips as she scooched herself a bit closer to him, debating for a moment before deciding to situate herself in front of him and carefully wrapping her arms around him. It was a strange embrace, and she tensed the moment skin hit skin, "******** you're cold," she muttered before simply pulling his torso against her own.

Once she felt that he wasn't going to fight her, she began to rub his back with her arms in hopes of getting his blood to circulate. He was like a ******** ice pop, and she ignored her shivering for now.

Soon enough, he began to warm up. It was slow work, but the fact that he was getting warmer cheered her spirits.

Pressing her lips to his shoulder apologetically, Antony then moved to simply rest her cheek there before allowing herself to cautiously nuzzle the side of his neck. "I'm sorry," she murmured against his dark skin, not entirely sure why she was uttering those words.

They just needed to be said.

He didn't realize how cold he was until he felt how warm she was in comparison. Normally he'd complain about being cold, but it seemed pointless to do so when he was tired and frustrated enough that he didn't need any more negativity on top of it.

"I'm sorry."

The black man's eyes opened, gaining a distant quality to them for a few seconds before closing them again because they burned from exhaustion. He wondered why she was apologizing, unless it was over that strange guy, and even then he wondered what compelled her to say that. Jamal was well-aware how Antony worked...she shouldn't have to apologize for that and it made him feel worse, oddly enough. He didn't comment though, finding it better to let the topic lie for now. Besides, he didn't see a point in starting another argument when he clearly wasn't thinking entirely under his own power.

"I think I oughta jus' go ta bed," he sighed weakly as he parted his eyelids again in an almost-painful manner. "Dat's prolly part of da problem."

"Probably," she confirmed, easily shifting and leaning against the wall so that he could curl up against her if he wanted. Though she was mentally tired, she wasn't quite physically ready to sleep yet, and so she didn't mind not laying down.

"Just get comfortable," Antony said softly as she loosened her grip, not really wanting another arguement to happen. Once he got situated, then she would work out a comfortable position around him.

Maybe the rain will have let up by morning?

Jamal, for once, didn't have to be told twice. He more or less flopped into an open spot with a grunt, caring little that unforgiving concrete was his matress instead of soft sand, and made himself as comfortable as was possible. The big cat's 'voice' in his head had quieted now that it had what it wanted. Jamal could think for himself now...he wanted sleep and he wanted it now.

Antony stayed silent, simply closing her eyes when he finally got settled. She leaned back against the wall and yawned, not quite ready to go to sleep quite yet. Her hands rubbed what free skin of his she could reach in attempts to help the blood circulation.

Sleep would come to her, not quite yet, but soon enough.

Fortunately for Jamal, it did not take long for him to fall asleep now that he was warmer, out of the rain, and in familiar surroundings again. Hopefully he'd wake up in a better mood the next day...or at least keep his mouth shut if otherwise.