Welcome to Gaia! ::

The sun was shining bright and hot, but a cool sea breeze helped keep the swelter manageable that afternoon as Newt sat with the products of his hard work. He had successfully not cleaned anything in days. It was refreshing, invigorating. Newt wondered if the labs had even noticed or cared. He had spent his time instead on the project he had begun when Emerwyn had stumbled across him the previous morning. It had been good to keep his mind off of things, and now that they were complete, they still were a fairly entertaining distraction. At least for him.
He had hopped out to one of the picnic tables set up near the lake, far enough apart from the duplexes to be private, or so he hoped. Sitting on top of the table itself, he leaned over the edge, clutching the wooden handles in each hand as he played.

"Y-yeeess, oh gr-gr-gr-gr-gr-great and pow-pow-powerful m-masteeeer..." The Sabin puppet's head dipped into a bow, nearly spilling the black painted tin can that made his top hat. "L-l-l-let m-me k-kiss your b-bum some more!"

"Oh, s-s-s-stop that, y-you, it t-tickles!" Twittered the Moreau puppet, an aluminum foil hand swinging up to cover the sculpted mouth on his shrunken potato head.

Though the island was suited with well stocked gym equipment Maryke had taken to getting her work outs elsewhere. Tree climbing was both good for the soul and it kept her limbs in tip top shape. The trees by the lake, other then on top of the duplexes themselves, were more favorable as they were in close proximity to her lake monster boyfriend. Today however, something caught her eye before she even had time to hit the trees. She stopped what she was doing, a gym bag clung across her shoulder as she stared on quizzically wondering what the ******** Newt was doing playing with dolls.

"Oooh, oooh!" The Sabin doll fell limp as he switched hands to lift the Aubrey marionette, "I c-c-c-claim to have mor-mor-mor-morals, b-but I'll st-st-still c-cut the b-baby from your w-womb!"

The more Maryke watched the harder it was to continue to keep her presence a secret. She didn't know if she felt more sorry over the display or bad, but it for damn sure was entertaining. She held one blackened hand over her snout as she attempted, poorly, to stifle a few giggles.

He flinched upright with a startled croak at the subtle sound, glancing around with wide eyes to try to spot where it might have come from. At the sight of Maryke, he squeaked and nearly fell off of the table top.

"I interrupting something?":she asked devilishly as a wide deep smirk stretched across her maw.

"N-n-n-no, I w-w-w-was j-just...!" He hopped down to collect the marionettes, rolling their strings around their bodies to keep them from getting tangled.

"Oh come on," she said quickly, finally stepping out into full view, her tail swishing around behind her as she walked. "It's no big deal. Hell, I used to play with doll at the time," she then stifled another giggle, "when I was six."

"Th-th-th-they aren't... d-d-d-dolls!" He huffed, brimming with embarrassment.

"Puppets then," she corrected herself. Seeing that he was clearly upset over her spotting him she waved it off more seriously. "It's really no big deal....in fact..." she made a 'zip; motion over her mouth and then tossed the invisible 'key' over her shoulder. "My lips are sealed"

He glanced up at her and then down at his creations in his hands and then back up at her, fidgeting slightly, "I... I d-did m-make them... y-you know... m-myself... F-fin-fin-finished this mor-mor-morning wh-when I fin-fin-finally figured out... th-the ah... h-hair."

"Really?" she asked reaching out and grabbing the one baring the Aubrey likeness without asking to touch it beforehand. She turned it from one way to the other, her hazels staring down at it and then asked off handedly, "Is this that doctor........Aubrey?"

Newt nodded, mouth twitching into a proud sort of grin, "Ah... y-y-yes! I t-tried... m-making the h-heads out of l-lots of th-things... b-but, th-these wo-wo-woo-worked out the b-best," He pointed to the potato. The hair that had been hot glued to the head looked surprisingly real. Had he gotten it from someone's shed parts from a change? Picked from the garbage? In reality, it had come from when he had spotted the komodo dragon erupting from her duplex- there had been a pile of hair left on her porch that he had helped himself to once she was gone. The hat had been cut from the toe of a black sock, again hot glued in place. the glasses were bent wire poked into the potato itself, the eyes sharp brambles he had found in the jungle to push into the flesh of the root. The body itself was driftwood wrapped in fabric from recycled clothing people had set out for others to pick through. The strings were fishing line from his craft kit. Rocks wrapped in tinfoil weighted the hands and feet down appropriately.

It indeed looked very nice and very detailed. Maryke studied the face intently as if staring in the eyes of that 'other woman' the one were whole books were written about, divorces were made over, and of course whom she currently detested. All the same it did look awfully nice. "Looks good," she said finally forking it back over. "You know you don't really have to hide this. I bet a lot of people would have a good laugh if you....oh I don't know, put on a show or something. I mean who doesn't want to see these bastards made fun of?"

Newt clutched the puppets against his chest, looking down at the dirt with an embarrassed sort of look, "W-woo-woo-with m-my st-stutter?" He chuckled, "D-don't... d-don't th-th-th-think people could s-s-sit through a sen-sen-sentence l-long enough.... t-to g-get the jo-jo-joke."

"Then just write the script," she shrugged, "I mean why let that talent go to waste just cause you can't get your words out?"

"Tuh-tuh-tuh-talent? W-what, m-m-mm-m-making f-fun of the doc-doc-doctors?" He shook his head bashfully, "I woo-woo-wouldn't c-call th-that a tal-tal-talent. I'm s-sure anyone c-could." It did make him think, though. He wondered if anyone else would have fun with them- he could defiantly see Liamh having a ball. "B-b-but... but... m-maybe... if.. if anyone w-w-would wan-wan-want to..."

"Oh I'm sure they could," she agreed, "but not anyone could whip up something like that," she waved towards the puppets. "I bet there'd be quite a few islanders just itching to have a stitch with them."

"I... I>.. I c-c-could p-pro-pro-probably m-make more..." He mused, "If... if anyone wan-wan-wanted... m-maybe... m-maybe I c-could... s-see if anyone wan-wanted to... d-do something w-with me for... for the th-th-theater? A sk-sk-skit or som-something? Er... if som-som-someone else does the t-talking though? I c-could make a few f-fliers m-maybe..."

"That's a great idea! And you could get a whole little spiel going. Even make some of other other islanders. Hmmm, or just stick with staff for now. I could tell Billy if you want? I'm sure he'd have a laugh over it." The more she talked the more her tail swished back and forth, clearly showing her interest.

He flinched at the mention of the octopus, his throat puffing out with a timid little ribbit, "I... er... if... if you wan-wan-wan-wanted to...."

An eyebrow raised at that, "Don't tell me you're afraid of Billy?" Of course Maryke knew Newt was probably afraid of his own shadow, but somehow she'd wondered if the octopus mighta done something to him.

"It's... n-n-n-not ver-ver-very dif-dif-difficult... to b-be afraid of B-b-billy..." He answered quietly.

"Oh.....well, he's better now," she said. It wasn't exactly truth, but she liked Newt. She didn't want the poor guy to live in fear his whole life.

"B-better how?" He perked up hopefully.

"Well.......he isn't as mean as he used to be," she said simply.

"R-really?" He peeped hopefully, "H-he... he w-w-won't t-try to... to d-drown me f-for... s-swimming too cl-close again?"

There was a long paused followed by a "................he tried to WHAT?"

"W-well, it's d-d-difficult to d-drown a f-frog, really..."

"Yeah......I....." she frowned, not really sure what to say to that. Billy wasn't exactly the nicest person in the world, especially when he was annoyed in some way. Which was usually. So she just relented to saying, "Well....he wouldn't do that again." At least she hoped not.

"I h-hope not. It's easier to s-s-swim in the l-lake than the ruh-ruh-rivers..." He reasoned, fidgeting with the little details of his marionettes.

"Well don't worry about Billy," she was quick to reply, "I'm pretty sure he won't bother you anymore. And if he does, well just tell him I'd be really upset with him if he lays one tentacle on you."

"I... I... I'll b-be sure to... er... t-try to er... t-tal-tal-talk him out of it next time."

"Sounds like a plan," she said, hoisting the bag further up her shoulder as she looked back over towards the trees. "Well I guess I'll leave you to your......puppets now."

"Ah... y-yes," He chuckled, glancing down at them bashfully, "W-well, than-than-th-th-thank you for... ah... y-your com-compliments and... um... ideas and... s-suchlike..."

"Anytime," she replied as she gave him a small little wave and then headed off to go climb a few trees as she originally had intended.

When Newt had come to, he wasn't entirely sure he was awake at all. Everything was dark, even with his eyes open- he had been left there, in able to move, strapped down and panicked. Why him? Why did this have to happen to him? Again, those selfish thoughts bubbled up and he could hear his father screaming at him, reminding him of his disapproval, of Newt's self centeredness. Newt didn't want to be in trouble. He didn't want to cause trouble. He wanted to be quiet and make toys and help Gaius with his theater and maybe impress a lady somewhere along the line. He wasn't ungrateful to the labs, and shouted as much in his terrified stutter as he lay there for hours. He was hungry. He was thirsty. His skin was beginning to dry out. But still he lay there alone in the dark. It was like those times. It was like how it had been with his father. He had been bad, he had been locked in his room.

He had accidentally shown his face outside of the kitchen at one of his father's dinner parties. Three days in his room. It hadn't been child abuse, his father never hit him. He was merely strict. Very strict. Three days without food save for what he had found stashed away in hiding places around his room. He'd listen to old records and make the best of it. He'd do a lot of reading when he was allowed. Often, though, the flashlight had been taken away from him.

He just wanted someone to be proud of him. Someone to tell him he had done a good job.

Obviously, though, that wasn't going to happen. He waited and waited, falling silent when trying to call out for someone didn't work, and waited for Sabin to return with the lights.

Sabin sat up in his office that night, thankful to have something else to ponder on aside from Aubrey and Moreau back in the mansion together doing God knew what. Moreau had picked such a HORRIBLE time to return.

He crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the wastebasket.

There was a reason he had brought Newt into the labs. He needed that control over someone's life. He needed to impose that fear in another being. He needed something delightfully evil to be able to ponder on.

Several ideas came and went. He pondered actually amputating Newt's leg for a few moments, but that was tossed out the window. As terrifying as it would be, he had savored about as much fear as he could from that already with the thread and Newt believing that he would follow through with it. Anything else would just be pain.... and then beaten depression. And it would be an obvious war wound that would likely stir any other islander who saw it against the labs. Newt was a pitiable creature, and frankly, too easy. He would earn sympathy... like a beaten puppy.

He pondered just leaving him for a while in the unknown, not knowing what would happen.... but he wouldn't really be able to witness that. And he had managed to drive Thom insane enough to be dangerous to others in a similar strategy.

He pondered trussing the frog up and just leaving him in Zach's duplex with a note saying that he was the equivalent of a present for Zach to do with as he would.... but that would just be passing along the responsibility for the punishment. And it would make Zachary to be the bad guy instead of allying him with him on Sabin's side. He wanted Newt to be scared of or loyal to him.

Sabin pondered on Newt's future for a good while into the night... before he realized just how much he was over thinking it. Newt wasn't even worth that.... and then it hit him.

with a grin, Sabin went to fetch a few things, and then went to bed with a satisfied smile. He'd let Newt stew till morning.


*****


Sabin walked into the labs with a satisfied smile on his face, looking much more in control than he had the last Newt had seen him, but the dangerous air about the man was anything but reduced.

There was a small sack clutched behind his back, but not well hidden if that had been Sabin's intentions.

"Good Morning, Newton." Sabin said with a dark humor.

Newt's head jerked up as he flinched out of his dozing state. "KrrKIT!" He managed to croak before finding words, his mouth dry and sticky as his wide round eyes rolled to lock on the white haired man with a look of horror.

The lights were flicked on, rather suddenly compared to the dark Newt had been left in all night, and Sabin wandered closer. "Did you sleep well?" He asked sardonically.

Newt flinched with a pained cry as the light stung his sensitive eyes. He clenched them shut, shivering as he cringed away from the doctor. There was no point in trying to speak. He knew he couldn't get the words out, even if he wanted to, and the dry mouth was undoubtedly just going to make matters worse.

Sabin shook his head, and went to fetch a paper cup of water from the sink, and then walked over, tossing it in his face with a disgruntled grunt.

Newt gave a little sob, flinching away from the cold spray but ultimately enjoyed the dampening. He whimpered, sputtering to clear his nose, his voice weak and horse from his shouting last night as well, "Wh-why... wh-why are you d-doing th-this to me?"

He snorted. "You disobeyed me. You disobeyed the labs. We gave you plenty of chances.... And yet you still refused to even do your own damn job."

"You may be interested to note that I have decided on your fate." Sabin said, sounding quite pleased with himself. He sat down on a stool and placed the satchel in his lap.

"You have proven yourself incompetent time after time. You cannot even accomplish your simple janitorial duties. You are a layabout, a fool, and a miserable man who pisses himself... quite literally.." He glanced down at the stain on his pants left over from the night before. "You really are good for nothing. Not even bait. You are a fat, slimy frog, and nothing more."

"I mentioned before that your father would be humiliated with what happened to you." He opened the bag now, withdrawing stacks of letters that would be quite familiar to Newton. He likely knew that they had never been sent. But here they were in person. Every letter Newt had ever written.... He tossed them unceremoniously onto Newt's restrained form.

"He will never see any of these..." Sabin said coldly, and then reached into the bag for one last letter. It consisted of two pages. One was a pink slip, filled out with Newt's name... the other was a typed letter on Feral Labs stationary. "But he WILL see this..." I took the liberty of making you a copy. It will be the last your father ever hears of you, after all.

Sabin held up the letter for Newt to see:



"Ah... ah... n-n-n-n-no no, y-you... you...he... he d-do-do-doesn't.. he w-woo-wo-won't... he w-won't even b-bother to r-r-read it!" He managed to find his voice at that, the tears building up behind those grotesquely large eyes. There they all were, his hope to impress laying strewn over his fat mutated body. "If... if... if I w-was... w-was su-su-such a m-m-mess up... why... why d-do you n-n-need me to... to con-continue so b-b-badly??" His time in the dark had given him plenty of time to reflect on his situation, and the tiny shreds of his courage managed to crawl up the sides of his throat and slip out in time to possibly make matters worse for him. He didn't know what he could do to make matters better and still be able to live with himself after, after all.

Sabin sniffed indifferently. " I suspect that your father will choose to read this when it comes to him via Western Union. I am certain that he will hope that it is money of some sort." Sabin smirked. "And why....? It is a matter of principle."

Newt rolled his head to try to tuck his face against his trembling shoulder.

Sabin roughly began to undo the restraints from Newt's limbs, without bothering to speak any further to him.

"Is... is th-that is? Y-you're... g-g-going to mor-mor-mortify me in... in f-front of my f-father and l-let me go?" He gave a shaky, breathy laugh, mind racing as the straps began to loosen and all sorts of irrational actions popped into his head.

Sabin paused, turning slowly back to face Newt with a steely stare. "Newt.... you are not even worth my time." He sneered. "You are an entertaining distraction from time to time... but nothing more. If you are masochistic enough to seek further retribution by my hand, then I am certain that I can make you regret that wish...."

This was it. This was an important moment and he knew it. Sniveling, whimpering, soiling Newton... he wanted revenge as much as anyone. He was angry. He was angry and he couldn't suppress that anger any longer. He could sob and whine and cry but what would that do? What did it ever do? He was so unhappy all of the time, and when it came down to it, he wasn't really sad about any of it. So why was he crying? He was angry. He was angry enough his hands were shaking in their loosening restraints. He could roll over and show his belly or he could grow a damn backbone and stand up for himself! A tiny fraction of rationality left in the back of his head tried to reason that perhaps now wasn't the best time to act out, but when was a good time?

His mouth moved soundlessly, his face a continuous tremble. "Wh-wh-why... why d-don't... d-don't you... d-don't you..." He was Gaius. He was Liamh. He was strong and confident. "T-t-tuh-tuh-tuh-" Tap tap tap, "Take these.... leh.... letters and... sh-sh-shove them... up y-your arse!" The moment the words left his mouth it was as though a weight had lifted from his shoulders. He could breath again.

Sabin stiffened and then turned slowly towards newt, his blue eyes barely containing a cold fire. "What did you say....?" He seethed, snarling. This.... Sabin had not expected. He should have been thankful for the decision he had reached. He had been proud of it, something that should have been a traumatic realization... stripping Newt from any hope of pleasing that ever-watchful father figure. Instead, he somehow found the balls to say that.

"You will regret saying that." Sabin snarled. "Subject Filinas SLEEP!" He snapped.

And watched as the frog slumped to the ground.

Mock HIM would he? The miserable, slimy little frog. Oh he'd regret it all right.

Sabin did indeed ensure that the letter was sent to Newt's father's last known address. And then he called up a lab tech that he wasn't particularly fond of and gave him some rather .... strange instructions.

It was hours later before Newt woke back up in his duplex feeling... unpleasant. It would not take Newt long at all to pinpoint the source of his discomfort. It seemed that Sabin had taken Newt's suggestion unfortunately literally... Although it was Newt and not Sabin to be the container for the aforementioned letters.

The two guards were doing their sweep. Down from the labs, down the main path, through the village, down to the beach, and up the back path back to the labs. It was once every four hours with a new couple, armed to the teeth with their rifles.

Ridley and Hanover were the 'lucky' ones this afternoon, sauntering through the village in no real hurry to get back towards the beach or jungle. So far, the village was one of the safest places you could be, outside the main gate.

Newt had remained inside for a good long while, before he had come to the conclusion that maybe a swim would make him feel better. Nothing else had, really. He still felt sick, he still felt sore. He still was mortified. He slipped from his duplex meekly, wearing a fresh, unsoiled pair of swim trunks (his only spare pair,) and very carefully, very slowly began the sore hop towards the lake. He kept his head down, not wanting people to notice him, but it was rather difficult to be incognito when you were a giant green frog creature. He kept his spirits up by thanking whatever Saint had allowed him to keep both legs.

"Hey look there, Gary," one of the guards said, nudging the other. "Its our kinky little janitor friend."

The other guard chuckled deep in his chest, hurling the half-empty bottle of water at the meek looking man, hitting him square against his side. "Hey, you better pick that up!"

The frog flinched, loosing his balance as the bottle hit him. Oh, Hell, he didn't want to talk to anyone just now, let along guards. Since the beginning his relationship with the security staff had been tentative. He had only lasted this long by the thought of the fact they were akin to Star Trek's "Red Shirts." The life expectancy on their job was very short. He supposed they needed something to occupy their time before being brutally devoured by some mutated jungle beast. He stared at the bottle, keeping his head down. Maybe if he ignored them, they'd go away.

"Hey, you gonna pick that up!?" one of them called, stepping forward.

"Hey now," said the other to his friend. "Careful what you wish for. He might just pick it up and stick it in his bum!"

They both belted out in a round of loud, boisterous laughter at that.

The frog trembled. The edges of his vision flickered with red, and he saw his hand move to pick up the bottle before he was even aware he was doing it. How did they...? Of course they knew. He supposed everyone knew.

"That's a good lad," one of them said between laughs. "Now throw it away now, try to control yourself."

He didn't know what had happened until it had happened. The water bottle threw through the air, straight at the guards.

The guards avoided it easily, spilling onto the ground as it busted open. The both of them, however, straightened up and shut up quickly, training narrowed eyes at the frog man.

"You don't learn your lesson very well," one of them growled, stepping forward. "You know I always just thought you were a freak but maybe you really are just retarded."

Newt huddled back, his breathing quickened as he glanced from one guard to the other. His heart was in his throat. He couldn't think. He could bearly feel. He just knew he was angry and it wasn't often Newt actually felt angry. He usually swallowed it. Suppressed it. Rationalized it away. Turned it inward, hated himself instead of others, but he wastired of it. "I'm... I'm n-n-no-not... not re-re-re-retarded," He growled, the muscles of his leg bunching and tensing.

"Sure you're not," said the one further away. "That would be insulting. My cousin's retarded and he knows how to pick up trash without ******** it up somehow."

Newt's breathing quickened, his hand sliding behind him to the elastic of his swim trunks.

"Come on, let's go," said the first one with a growl. They started back on their way, 'accidentally' bumping hard into him, pushing Newt over onto his sore rear.

That was enough. After the startled cry of pain as he fell, Newt sprang up from the ground, tackling the closest guard from the rear. His fist slammed down sharply on the man's shoulder, something long, sharp and plastic gripped tightly in his webbed fingers, like a handmade awl that had once been a tooth brush. Once the blow was made, he used the guard as a springboard to leap for the second with an enraged, "KrrrKIT!"

The first attacked guard gave a surprised cry, not just from the attack, but from the sudden pain in his shoulder. The second spun around, just in time to see the flash of green hurling through the air right towards him. He reacted quickly, bringing his rifle up quickly and catch Newt on the head with the butt of the gun.

There was a dull thunk and Newt saw a flash of light before crumpling to his side in a heap of frogman. There wasn't even any blood on his hands. He groaned, limbs curling up as one hand went to his throbbing temple, the other dipped back under the pant leg of his swim trunks this time.

"I think he ******** stabbed me me!" said the first hysterically, reaching back and touching his shoulder, pulling it back and looking at the red sticky stuff on his hand. "I think I'm ******** bleeding!"

"s**t, really?" The guard that had downed Newt kicked him hard in the gut. "You packing, you sick f**?"

Newt made a strangled noise that sounded almost as though he were trying to give a tiger-like roar. He was Jamal! He had claws! He threw his legs around up and under himself to launch himself up with a swing of a fist that glittered with silver, aiming to collide with the man's face.

"********!" the guard hissed as the first collided, little strings of blood forming over his cheek.

"TAKE HIM DOWN!" the first guard was bellowing into his communicator.

A few moments later, Newt would be out for the count.

Newt had been kept in the lab for days. He thought she was going to be rid of him right then, but instead he had been left to wait while... whatever happened happened. As he was dropped outside the gate, Newt sat and trembled for a good long while, blinking in the sun he hadn't seen in what felt like forever.

But he had both of his legs, didn't he? No new scars, but the ding on his forehead from where the guard had bashed his temple had swollen into a rather impressive lump that had spread to his eye, forcing it partially closed. He couldn't tell what he felt. He couldn't feel anything. Not the pain from his wounds, not the ground under his hands and feet as he hopped, not the cold hard depression that gripped his insides like a vice. At the very least, he had stopped internalizing, which was improvement. Just follow the road. Why? Where to? His duplex. What for? For what ever. He could just wait here. Wait for Annie or Jamal to come and gobble him. The idea made him almost giggle out loud.

Thom wasn't a very good babysitter. He had promised to keep an eye on Newt, and he had been, yes, but it was difficult to keep his eyes from wandering. The frog man was terribly dull, and the stutter was enough to drive Thom back into madness if he hung around for too long. He had kept near enough to know where Newt was, and that was enough for him. And then...he'd lost him.

The cobra had spent the better part of three days searching for Newt, who had apparently vanished into thin air--or the labs, which made a bit more sense, but was somewhere Thom couldn't access.

After determining that Newt couldn't possibly be anywhere but the dreaded labs, Thom had set up camp as close to the entrance as he could get without leaving the safety of the trees. The cobra was curled up out of sight of the guards in one of the lower branches of the tree, alternately watching for any sign of the frog and dozing off his latest meal. It was exceedingly boring, but luckily it wasn't a long wait. The frog appeared outside the gate and started down the road, and Thom slid down from the tree to await his approach, then lazily slithered onto the open roadway once Newt reached him, 'walking' at the frog's side. "How's th' strike goin'?"

The first sign of something being wrong with the frog man was his lack of any sort of flinch when the snake slithered out to meet him. He bearly seemed to register his fellow subject there at all, his eyes lowered down to the road as he continued his long leaps.

The cobra lifted a scaled brow, quickening his own pace to keep up with Newt's long hops. "Well?"

"L-leave m-m-me alone!" Newt finally snapped, stopping his still sore hop to turn a wide, froggy-eyed glare at the snake. It wasn't threatening, of course coming from Newt, but it was as threatening as the frog was capable.

"If you're tryin' to intimidate me, you're failin'," he drawled, continuing past Newt and down the road. "Plan didn't go as I expected it would... 'Pologies. You still don't 'ave to be a janitor though, eh?"

Newt didn't answer, keeping his head low as he tried to hop faster, trembling with rage. If the snake had really been following him, had he seen when he had attacked the guards? Or had he missed that? The labs threats hadn't taken the hot fire out from under the frogs skin, if only had poked at it and kindled it's heat further painfully. The frog could barely think. He could barely breath, but he managed.

No reply was forthcoming form the frog, so Thom tried another approach. As if reading Newt's mind, he latched onto the new subject. "Saw you attack those guards. Stupid of you, even if they did deserve it. I expect that's what this lab stay was about?"

"I... I... I w-was angry," Newt murmured in a distracted fashion, but ultimately did confirm his suspicions. "Th-they... th-they... th-they sh-sh-shouldn't have... have b-been t-teasing me."

"The shouldn't," Thom agreed, though it was probably rather hypocritical of him to say so. If it would keep Newt talking, then he was allowed to say it. He didn't have to mean it, after all. "You 'ad weapons...?"

"Th-they t-took them away," He continued along, his stomach in knots. Why had they kept him locked up for so long? What else had they taken away?

"But you could make more...?" he prodded, watching Newt carefully. The idea of making weapons out of the common items the labs supplied had never occurred to him, nor had the prospect of a real revolution until Newt's weapons and Jamal's kills. One side of him argued that there was no real point to it, that they were stuck on the island and turning into animals and there was no going back. The other desperately wanted to see an end to the labs, even if he couldn't change back himself. If only something could be done about the chips, it might be a possibility...

Newt didn't answer, but did quicken his pace. He had to get home. He had to get home as fast as possible! What if they took away his tools? What if's and worried possibilities gripped at his chest, eyes straight ahead as he bounded almost too quick for the snake to slither after.

"Dammit, Newt!" The cobra likewise picked up the pace, but still lagged behind, and eventually just gave up and slowed altogether. Mentally cursing his lack of legs, he followed after the frog at a distance, tongue flicking out every few seconds to keep him on the right trail after Newt.

Newt leaped straight away to his duplex up the stairs to teh top landing, scrambling to unlock it and hop inside, and left the door ajar behind him. What he found inside made him stop dead in his tracks, gaping in horror around him. He thought he had gone into the wrong place, but no, his key had opened the door. Inside there was.... nothing. No mud, no home made swamp, no work bench, no piles of inventions, no heaps of organized and agonizingly thoroughly sorted recycling. Everything was.... clean. He was amazed by how clean the place was. He hadn't felt the carpet as carpet in months. There wasn't a bed, but there was a bear mattress, a few changes of clothing and his letters sat on top in neat piles.

A good few minutes passed before Thom arrived at the duplex as well, waking his way up the stairs with surprising ease and pausing in the open doorway. It was...empty. "...If you want some furniture, you can take it out of my duplex. I don't stay there anymore."

"M-my... my..." Newt gasped, nearly falling over before he swayed upright to stand and stumble quickly towards the closet. Nothing in there either! Not even a spare blanket! Nothing in any cabinet, and even as he hopped up as high as he could to push a drop-ceiling panel out of the way, it appeared everything he had stashed up there was gone as well. The walls hadn't been repainted, though, stained with water damage from his sprinkler system, and brown muddy marks from where he had leaned up the "trees" of his self decorated terrarium.

He leaped to the mattress, scattering the clothes and letters as he lifted it to check underneath, but still nothing. No tools, no supplies, no bug traps, no wind chimes, no puppets, no origami crane from Natsumi. No bundle of hand made torture devices, rusted from cleaning the blood off of them late at night. He gave a panicked wail, flopping down on the soft dry rug with his head buried under the mattress.

This was more than Thom wanted to deal with. His plan was meant to be short and simple, not go a week with no results except to see Newt crying on the floor. He had half a mind to abandon the frog and head back to Natsumi's duplex, where the girl was undoubtedly waiting for him. Anything at all involving Natsumi was likely to be ten times more productive than watching a frog man cry. But the prospect of weapons was still a very tempting one... "Well done, I'm sure that's exactly th' reason they were 'opin' for. You've let them win. Might as well go back t' bein' a janitor."

"TH-they... they... they t-took... th-they t-took my t-tools..." He murmured, slowly pulling himself out again. Why was he so surprised? What had he expected? He hadn't been thinking. He had just been angry. But on the other hand... there was no mop. There was no bucket. There were no jumpers. "N-no... no... no, I'm... I'm n-no-no-no-not a jan-jan-janitor."

"Tools can be replaced," he scoffed, waving dismissively into the empty duplex. "As can sheets and clothing and furniture and such. Half the islanders don't even stay in their duplexes anymore, I'm sure." An exaggeration, but that hardly mattered. "You defied them, and th' only thing they could do in retaliation was empty your duplex? Comparin' the two, I'd say you won, Newt."

Newt had started to cry again, but when he heard what the snake had to hiss, he frowned and sniffed, sitting back thoughtfully. "I.... I sup-sup-suppose...." What did he need, right? He hadn't anything but the clothes on his back when his father had.... when Newt had.... he couldn't finish the thought, but after a thoughtful pause, he did murmur quietly, "D-do you th-think... they b-burned them? Th-threw them out...? K-kept them?"

"Does it matter?" He shrugged, slithering into the room and over to the frog man. "They're not 'ere, and I doubt you'll get the same ones back. But there's construction goin' on for somethin', right? You can borrow those tools, an' you can remake whatever was lost. One good side to the island--you 'ave all th' time you need."

That was true. It hurt. He felt invaded, violated in more than one way, but... Thom was right. He could get new tools, or someone could get them for him... "I... I... I... I c-can... r-re-rebuild... krrKIT!" His voice was almost a whisper.

"You can rebuild," he assured the frog, then raised a brow. "And more than just what was 'ere before. You were making weapons, Newt?"

The frog glanced about the room. He used to know where almost every camera was before... but had they been moved now? This was no secret anymore, was it? "M-m-ma-may-may-may-may-maybe."

Thom noted the glance, and gestured for the door, turning and heading out himself, then pausing to wait for Newt at the bottom of the stairs. He had forgotten the duplexes were monitored, and, if Newt really had been making weapons, his was probably more so than others.

Newt glanced around with a stoic expression, his stomach in knots. He bottled it up. Bottle it up and save it for later. He had a lot of work to do, especially now. Out in the woods, wrapped in a piece of cloth were his emergency reserves, right? They wouldn't have found those. Couldn't have found those. He had buried them when he had decided to go through with this Strike plan with Thom, just in case. There wasn't much, but it was a start. They had to be there. As he landed at the base of the stairs in a heavy hop, the frog man was giggling.

A giggling Newt was about the creepiest thing Thom could imagine, especially when Newt had been blubbering half under a mattress only a short while before. Grimacing, the cobra struck out for the jungle, intent on wandering...well, wherever they would be overheard. Which was basically out of the village, as long as they kept their voices down. "What had you made thus far?"

Newt didn't answer at first, making several long paced leaps before he spoke up, "L-lo-lo-lo-lots of th-things... It's... it's am-am-amazing wh-what... wh-what p-people will j-just throw out. One... one man's trash, right?" He laughed again at his own joke, mind still out amongst his hiding spot and wondering if it was untouched.

"Mhm." Newt had to get the supplies somewhere, obviously. It was almost a pity he wasn't sticking with the janitor thing. It seemed like a good excuse to dig through garbage for parts....not that Thom would ever do so himself. "Such as?"

"B-bits of p-plastic, b-bits of m-metal... sh-shaving r-razors, b-bits of rope, old cl-clothes and m-m-mettle c-cans, cam-cam-camera p-parts and human h-hair... th-things that st-stink when you b-burn them... b-broken th-things that c-can be f-fixed or... or r-reglued into s-something new."

He disguised a hiss with a cough, then grit his teeth, attempting to ignore the stutter and, in doing so, only managing to focus on it all the more. "But what did you make? Could you make them again? ...An' could you please try an' do somethin' about that stammer?"

"It's n-n-n-not so easy!" Newt croaked back with a frown, but raised a hand to tap on his chest, TAP TAP TAP, "... So you'd... rather I... d-... do this like a... a bloody monkey?"

"You don't 'ave to tap your chest," he pointed out, then quickly added, "Though, it does help. You could do somethin' as inconspicuous as tappin' thumb an' forefinger together, theoretically, correct?"

Newt's brows raised and he gave a little croak. As brilliant as he was with junk piles, he was stupid in a lot of other ways. The thought of that hadn't occurred to him, "I d-d-d-don't really... have a g-good sense of r-rhythm anyway."

"It's helpin'," Thom assured him, cracking a grin. "Keep tryin', you might surprise yourself. Back to th' weapons--what did you make?"

He looked down again, looking almost ashamed as he hopped along, aiming for the jungle as well, but with a particular direction in mind. "L-like... wh-what... wh-what did I... use on th-those g-guards?"

"Sure?" Thom shrugged, gesturing for him to continue. "What did you use, what have you made--could you make any long range weapons, do you think?"

"I... I st-stabbed the one... w-with... w-well, I had t-taken a t-t-toothbrush and... re-re-removed the b-bristles so... so I c-could lay it f-f-flat against m-my leg under... under my sh-shorts and... and sh-sharped the end like... y-you know, an awl. Th-then... w-well, you t-take as m-ma-ma-many r-razors... you know, from sh-shaving k-kits and the like, and... I re-resharpened them a b-bit with my jew-jew-jeweler's file and... epoxied them in p-place b-between the t-tongs of... of a h-half of a p-p-plastic c-comb... th-then... t-took a b-bit of st-string to wr-wrap it around... m-my... my knuckles..." He made a punching motion in the air to illustrate the possible damage. "I w-wish I c-could have... seen the d-da-da-damage... b-but... but I'll bet he'll be sc-scarred."

Stutter, stammering, every other bloody word was mangled in some horrible way by Newt's speech problem. Thom hardly processed anything the frog man was saying, and, indeed, had to run the words through his head more than once before they registered. "Brilliant...yes...well done," he muttered, rubbing his temple with his palm against the beginning of a headache. "That would be easy enough to reproduce. They still 'ave us at long range, though."

"I... I'm sure..." He noticed Thom's frustration, giving in to try the finger technique if only to avoid further violence while he was unarmed, "I could... come up with s... something... A s-sling and... r-rocks w-would be easy... b-but take pruh-pruh-practice to know how to..." while he thought about it, he forgot to tap, words running over themselves before he managed to catch himself, "There's loooo-... lots of pos... possibilities."

The attempt was noted and appreciated, though it did nothing to ease Thom's headache, merely kept him from knocking Newt out and fleeing to speak with someone who spoke properly. "A sling would be easy, but it would only take th' guards a helmet to make it ineffective. We'd need somethin' with more force. Bow an' arrows, or some such. Would that be possible?"

Newt thought about it, glancing around at the jungle as they moved through the trees. "Is th-there... any b-bamboo? H-hollow... reeds that are... thick and s-s-s-sturdy? Usually... g-grow in wet-wetlands.... we could... if you... take a puh-puh-push pin... y-you know, the t-type w-with... the sp-spindle, n-not the... f-flat type y-you..."

"I 'aven't seen any bamboo, but reeds are plentiful enough, especially around th' river. We couldn't use push pins for much more than darts, though... They couldn't do much damage, I'd think. Glass pieces, scrap metal, maybe even sharpened plastic... You said you'd been using that kind of thing, correct?"

Newt nodded, "I really j-just... n..need to col-col-collect... ma-ma-materials, and I j-just... s-see how I can put them together." He looked as though he was getting frustrated, still trying to keep his rhythm with his fingers, but it wasn't quite as easy as just speaking when he put them together. His mouth simply didn't like to cooperate, and it made him anxious that it made Thom anxious. He was thankfull the snake was being such a kind friend to him, talking to him, keeping his mind off of what had just happened... and bringing his hopes back up.

The talk had sapped a bit of his steam out, though, a bit of his old self reemerging as he veered off the path they had been somewhat taking towards a cluster of rocks deeper in hidden by thick trees and underbrush. Like a frog squirming into his den, though, he dug at the fallen ferns and suchlike he had hadn't shoved in to reveal a hole in the bushes that he could squish his fat froggy body through. "I'd... r-re-re-really j-just... b-be happy m-making pu-pu-puppets, though..." He mourned the loss of the marionettes he had made. He had been proud of them. He hoped they weren't destroyed, even if he couldn't have them.

He really didn't care where they were walking, nor did he realize they were heading a particular direction until Newt hunkered down to dig among the ferns for his collection. He grimaced, but quickly forced it away in favor of a more neutral expression, watching expectantly. There had to be a reason behind the digging, after all...right? "So keep makin' puppets. It's a good cover for whatever else you'll be makin'. Have them think you're only makin' puppets, and make weapons while their eyes are off you."

"I d-don't know... if... if th-they... c-catch me again..." His suspicions were confirmed! His stash was still there! Hidden under everything, under rocks, under dirt and worms and bugs was a bundle wrapped in a muddy brown scrap of fabric. He quickly stuffed it into the back of his shorts, tucked safely in his undergarments where he was sure no one would dare go. "It... it... it could be really bad."

"Worth the risk, isn't it?" He raised a brow at the briefly visible bundle, but didn't bother to question, figuring he didn't want to know if it was being shoved down Newt's pants. "I seriously doubt th' guards 'ave more than tranqs, so it would be easy to overwhelm them if we had the weapons to do so."

"I'd have to th-th-think about it l-longer," He murmured, squeezing back out through the bushes again with a frustrated croak as he got stuck around his middle.

He frowned, but nodded, turning as if to go. "Suit yourself. It'll get done either way. If you won't help, someone else will. After everythin' th' labs 'ave done to you, I'd thought you'd be one of th' first t' go against them. You know they're not goin' to really hurt you."

"... y-you... you... you d-don't... know what your ta-ta-talking about!" He huffed, struggling and scrambling tot ry to get himself free, but he was still wedged in pretty well. His throat inflated in embarrassment as he struggled, "Sh-she... she th-threatened to... to c-cut off my th-thumbs! He... he... he wan-wan-wan-wanted to... to eat my l-legs! He t-tasted them even!!"

"So what?!" he snapped, whirling on the frog with a hiss. "There are already people here without thumbs, Newt! Without legsss!" The word ended in a furious hiss, and the cobra's hood flared. "An' if things keep goin' as they are, there'll only be more! But you, coward that you are, would rather sit 'ere in the mud and make puppets while th' labs continue to trick people 'ere and ruin their lives!"

The frog huddled down, eyes watering as the snake spoke. "I... I... I'm n-n-not a cow-coward..." At least, he didn't want to be one anymore. He wasn't a janitor anymore, maybe he could stop being a coward as well. It was easier said than done, though. He was terrified, and it showed on his face as he lamely tried to free himself.

"Then prove it," Thom hissed, fangs bared. However, he quickly backed down, remembering he was supposed to be staying quiet, and glanced around for any cameras, though his hood remained spread. "We'll need all th' help we can get, Newt."

Newt's hands balled into fists as he looked down at the ground. He had a lot to think about. "I'm... I"m stuck..." He finally said, quietly, lamely, "C-could... could you...?"

He grimaced, half tempted to just leave Newt there, especially as unhelpful as he was being. However, he offered a hand nonetheless. He'd rather win Newt over then alienate him further by walking off.

Newt took a hold, grunting and ribbiting as he managed to dislodge himself and pop free, looking thoroughly ashamed of being stuck to begin with.

Thom freed his hand the moment Newt was clear, then turned to start for the path once more. "Let me know when you decide. Doesn't seem like th' labs're goin' t' try t' use you as bait again, so pardon me if I stop followin' you around. I'd like to get back to my own life."

Newt nodded, not blaming him as he crouched, "S-say..." He was quick to concentrate on his rhythms again, eyes closed as he tried his hardest to not stutter, "Say... Thuh... thom? You... know your way... around the jun-jun-jun-jungle... d-do.. do you know of any... little... ponds or... or swamps or....?" He wasn't sure he felt comfortable going back to his duplex. He didn't want them watching him as he cried.

He paused, but nodded, attempting to think up a particular location for the frog man. "I'm not fond of bogs, so if th' land's started lookin' like one, I've avoided it. But I've seen a few ponds around, 'ere an' there. It's 'ard to say exactly where, but they're not 'ard to find."

"C-close to the r-river? N-not t-too d-deep?" He perked up. Something to look forward to! Something the labs couldn't take away or control or fully monitor. A place to be alone. That was moist. Maybe with a nice moss grown over top to hide under. Preferably leech-free. He rather a food he didn't have to worry about eating him back.

"Define close?" He shrugged. "I can't recall any near the river, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. I 'aven't seen th' whole jungle, I could've easily missed a small pond. I've seen more creeks than ponds, 'owever, but I'm sure you could find somethin' to your tastes." It was easy to guess Newt's motives. Many islanders, himself included, favored the jungle to the duplexes. It wasn't surprising to find someone else who did.

Newt had only just made this decision a few moments ago, and it showed in teh tremble on his face. He swallowed to strengthen his resolve befor nodding, "M-m-may... maybe I'll.. s-see you around." The corners of his mouth turned up in the motion of a smile, but it was obviously forced. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before adding, "C-could you... s... ss... say hello to Natsumi for me?"

He nodded, cracking a rather forced smile of his own. "Per'aps. Let me know if you come to a decision about th' weapons." Thom nodded a goodbye and turned to go, but paused at the request, glancing suspiciously back at Newt. His eyes narrowed and he frowned, but after a beat he relaxed and nodded his agreement, starting away. "I'll tell her you said hello."

"Th-th-thank you," Newt murmured, watching him move but made no further interest to stop him. He was hungry. He was upset. He felt numb and knew it wouldn't last. He needed to find a safe place. "And... I'll... sh-sh-she... ah...thank you." He wished he had someone to return to, to be safe with. He wasn't entirely a frog. He was a man and by golly, he needed things. Like a bog to hide in and a moss blanket to hug him to sleep. before he caused himself any further embarrassment, he gave a croak and leaped off in the opposite direction to start his real estate search.

Liamh walked up the path through the duplexes, taking a slow, lazy pace as he followed behind his dog, soaking up the tropical afternoon sunshine. His hands were folded behind his head - an odd lacing of flesh and vine appendages amidst the leafy sproutings. The woolly yellow dog was racing up and down the path, but paused momentarily, sniffing the air, and then happily took off up the path like a rocket. Liamh scowled and let the beast go. Just because Prancer was in a hurry didn't mean he had to be.... He stopped and sighed, glancing around. He noticed the door of one of the nearby duplexes was open. That was Newt's place, wasn't it? Liamh grinned and made his way to the stairs, his hands still folded behind his head. "Hoy, Newt, are you home?" He called, tromping up the stairs.

The door was open, and the frog inside didn't seem to notice or at least register his calls. Newt's duplex was bear- strangely so for someone who had been in the village as long as Newt had, the walls curiously stained with water and mud damage, and the carpets grayed. There was no furniture, no mini fridge, no television, no radio, only a bear mattress that Newt had leaned upright against the wall. A thick mound of letters (the ones that hadn't been thrown out due to their soiled nature) lay piled next to a few articles of clothing and his sheets folded neatly with a pillow case at the ready to pack everything into. Newt himself was in the bathroom, unscrewing the knobs to the bathtub and sink.

Liamh tromped up to the doorway, paused and staring wide-eyed at the hollowed-out, dingy shell of a duplex. He quickly scanned the damage, the folded things and stuffed pillowcase, the.... he dropped his hands to his sides slowly, walking over and crouching next to the stuff. Clothing in the pillow. Paper things were... letters? He didn't touch them, wondering at the curious smell. He straightened and wandered around. "Newt...?" He called more softly, getting worried now. What was all this? He poked his head around the bathroom doorway. "Newt!" he chirped at the sight of the green janitor.

Perhaps it was a testament to how lost in his thoughts to frog was, but he didn't flinch. He was in his dingy, mud-stained swim trunks, clutching what spare parts he could detach from any given fixture against his large froggish stomach, and apparently murmuring to himself under his breath, "T-T-trash f-from trash, analogy of m-my life.... f-father w-was right, he was r-r-right about everything... I ha-ha-ha-ha-hate that m-man I-" He stopped his quiet grumblings once the plant man's voice seemed to pop him back into the now. "Ah.... " He dropped the handles, blinking up at him with a dumbfounded expression, "Ah... oh... L-li-li-liamh! Wh-what... what are... what are you d-doing here?"

Liamh winced, picking up some of the mumbled stuttering from the froggish man. Or was it more of a mannish frog now? He scratched at a leaf sprout on his head sheepishly. "Sorry to just walk in... i didn't see you anywhere, and was just so..." he glanced back over his shoulder. ".... EMPTY. You moving out or something?" he nodded at the bathtub. "And, uh... they have a shortage of faucet knobs where you're going?"

Newt's throat jumped a few times, quivering under his mouth as he thought how to answer, before he gathered them back up and hopped towards the door to push past the plant-man's vine-encrusted legs. "Y-yes. I'm m-moving out." He answered simply, hurrying to his pile before tossing the clothes into the pillow-case sack. He kept his eyes away from Liamh, packing in a nervous fashion. As for the knobs, well... they might make good handles if he had to make his own tools. If only he could get more epoxy...

Liamh scratched at his chin curiously, stepping aside. ".... Oh... uh..." he boggled at that one. Moving out? Where was there to move out to? The lake, perhaps? Frogs didn't NEED to be underwater, he knew that much. "Neeeeeeeed any help?" he followed Newt over into the main room. His eyebrows bounced as he thought of something. "OHHH, of course, they're getting you a new duplex!" he smacked his forehead. "That's great, this one looks kinda thrashed. Too many parties or something?" He stared at the walls.

Newt didn't answer, falling in a thoughtful silence as he stared at the unopened letter's address for a few moments before shoving it in with the rest. There were an awful lot of them, even without the obscene amount that had been ruined. Six year's worth. Every week. He didn't know why he wanted to keep them, but it was something. Something his. Maybe he'd show them to his father one day. Maybe. It was a document to his life here... before the village. Some of them might have even been before the island itself- he hadn't checked the post dates on all of them. He finished packing, dragging the bundle to set it down next to the door.

He turned his attentions then to the mattress leaning against the wall. What good was it? He had felt around, and there were springs inside. He might not want to sleep on a mattress, but those metal coils could be usefull, but he didn't dare dismantle the thing here.

Liamh put his hands on his hips, staring around. He didn't dare lean against any walls. "You know.. I don't think you're getting your deposit back for this one." he quipped. He watched as Newt fingered the letters. He'd seen the sending address on them. Filinas.... that was Newt's last name.It had taken him a moment to remember it. He felt a bit of a lump in the back of his throat and swallowed. Someone Newt knew out there in the real world... Obviously, the letters had never gotten there. He'd be surprised if they had. Newt must not have known.... there were so many letters. He cleared his throat. "So, need me to bring the truck around?"

"N-no j-just... ah... if... if y-you wanted to.. to help me w-with this..." Newt murmured in a distracted manner, motioning to the mattress, "W-we... we can p-probably j-just... th-throw it over the side of my bal-bal-ba-ba-balcony."

"Aye aye, cap'n," the plant-man said, throwing a salute and looking at Newt kind of strangely. He went over to it, inspecting it and giving it a slackerly poke. "You really want this old thing?" he said, putting his hands on his hips and avoiding actual work for the moment.

"Y-yes," Newt answered, hopping to the other end to try to heft it up while remaining in his crouch. After a false start, he figured he'd be better to stand while doing this sort of work.

Liamh sighed and bent his back to the thing. It smelled a little funny and didn't feel too clean, but hey... "Right... one.. two... threegh!" he grunted, hefting his end of it and trying to head toward the front door.

Newt hefted as well with a little concerned croak, hop-hobbling backwards to lead it out and to the edge of the balcony before he ducked out of the way, "J-just p-p-push it over!" Hopefully it would break open upon impact, or possibly jostle some of the springs free.

Liamh gave another grunt in reply, trying to push the floppy mattress forward over the edge. He leaned into it, getting some traction on the wood. "Ngh... hand... here?" he gave it another shove and it started to keel....

Newt gave a disappointed grunt when it merely bounced a little, and completely failed to break open. He'd have to go at it with a sharp stone or something. Without a word to his friend, Newt turned to hop back into the duplex for his sack. "Is... th-there anything you wan-wan-wanted? I'm s-sorry I c-can't... l-lend you m-my t-tools anymore..."

Liamh leaned against the railing. "Not really, no.... Thought, er, if you weren't busy...." he trailed off. "Looks like you are. But if you need help with that mattress or anything..." he peered over the rail down at the mattress, lying at a weird angle and slightly bent. "You know, this reminds me of the time i tried to 'fly' off of the roof of my house when i was little.... i got about as far as the front door with the mattress before mom wanted to know what i was doing with it." he gave a sad sort of half-smile. "I had it all planned out, too. I even had a cape."

"It's g-g-good sh-she stopped you," Newt answered stiffly, tossing the sack over his shoulder before clumsily hopping down the stairs in two bounds to move over and examine the damage down below. He had opened up so nicely when they had last spoken. Something was undoubtedly troubling the frog-man, although he made no move to talk about it. He figured Liamh had his own worries to sort out, he didn't need Newt's on top of them. He'd never had many friends, if any before the village, after all. Coworkers hadn't cared to speak with him, and he'd been the shy quiet kid in school that talked to no one and often found himself shoved in garbage cans. That thought made him chuckle out loud. Again, garbage. Always garbage. He was garbage. His father had told him so and he hadn't believed him. His chuckle turned into a giggle before dying away.

Liamh paused, his eyes rotating slowly to the unusually terse frogman, a slight shiver going across his skin - what was left of it - at the giggle. There was something a bit.... wrong. He'd been trying to dismiss the thought as paranoia, but it was getting harder to remain oblivious to that fact. He cleared his throat uneasily. "Yeah, yeah. I probably would have gone SPLAT and i don't think we'd have had a spatula big enough for that mess..." he said idly. "Newt," he said slowly, trying to segue his conversation in tone if not in topic. "You, uh, you seem kinda... " he gestured subtly. "... tense? What's eatin' you?" He winced after he said it, remembering the janitor's phobia of becoming a main course for the feral islanders.

Newt didn't answer right away, worming his way under the mattress to try to pick it up on his back, balancing it there to take a few crawling steps before he had to drop it and catch his breath. "N-n-n-nothing," He assured him distantly. Right. Nothing. No a**l probing mad scientists, no abusive father, nothing. He was fine, he was dandy. He was picture perfect. He was A-ok. "N-nothing, I'm f-f-fine."

Liamh raised an eyebrow and scratched his head. Now he KNEW something was wrong. The hadn't even blinked at that! Liamh turned and started down the stairs. "Riiiight. Okay. How 'bout we go get a drink? I mean, that mattress obviously isn't going anywhere...And you'd promise not to clean it up while you're gone, right? So nobody'd be taking it away..." He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and leaned on the rail again.

"I d-don't drink," He replied stiffly. At least Newt had never really drank. A sip of beer perhaps, but nothing that really counted. He tugged at it, glancing at the tree line. His pond was far away...

Liamh arched a brow, watching Newt work. "Awright, awright. But seriously, what's with the mattress? I know the labs will get you another one if you need it... that one's all thrashed."

"I d-d-doubt they will," He answered gruffly. Despite his protest, he did look like he could use a drink, and a stiff one at that.

"Look... how 'bout i help you take that nasty thing wherever it's going, and then we go get a soda at the beach bar. I think you've been workin' too hard..." he prodded himself in the head. "It's gettin' to ya... Not like everything on this island WOULDN"T already, but seriously, Newt... too wound up and you'll..." He made a popping noise with his mouth, adding a hand-gesture to it.

Newt glanced down at the mattress now laying on the ground again, his mouth drawn into a tight frown around his overbite. "N-no... no, w-we can g-go now if you wan-wan-wanted..." He had all the time in the world now, after all. Wasn't that what Thom had said?

Liamh hopped off the stairs. "GREAT! We can come back for it later. Whatever it is you want to do with it." He smirked, walking over and setting a hand on Newt's shoulder. "I'll make ya one of those weird Italian things, if you don't want booze. Though, you know, booze is kinda nice now and then." he added with a grin. "Whaddya say?"

Newt shrugged unhelpfully, depression written all over his green and yellow face. "Sh-sh-sh-sh-sure. Wh-why not?"

Liamh started off down the path toward the beach, waving Newt along with him. "Come on, Filin... Filini... Fililinin... err... Newt! It's only about a mile or so. I'll keep the tigers off you."

Newt leaped after, keeping his head down, "It's fuh-fuh-fuh-Filinas," He tried to correct, but then laughed at his own inability to say his own name.

Liamh glanced over his shoulder, grinning. "Heh! I think i may have to stick to Newt." he shook his leafy head. "Fil-in.... FILL-in-us....right. Fancy. Better than Doradan, anyway. At least it doesn't sound like something you get yelled at for slamming behind you!" he chuckled, swinging his vine-tangled arm as he walked. The human arm looked fairly devoid of those dangling tendrils he'd had, but Liamh could see new ones budding. He scowled inwardly at that, keeping a straight face.

"Nnn..." Newt's sense of humor seemed to be absent that afternoon, or at least disconnected from outside stimuli, and Liamh's winning sense of humor was wasted on the somber green creature. "M-m-may-may-maybe... I w-will t-try something... t-to drink."

Liamh glanced ahead as the frog hopped along, keeping a steady pace that caught up with the tremendous leaps as Newt waited. "Can't hurt. Might help. Who knows, you might like it. Don't have to overdo it, you know." He chuckled to himself. He did hope that something of an alcoholic nature might at least get the spring-loaded amphibian to relax a bit... he didn't know a whole lot about Filinas yet, but there was certainly something boiling around inside him, something that couldn't be good. They walked on for a while, winding up the wide path through the jungle.

As Newt hopped along, he thought about a lot of things. He thought about how he'd never wear a jumper again, and how comfortable they had been, although hot when working outside. He thought about how he'd probably never find a girlfriend, never loose his virginity. Never win an award, never be remembered for anything. He thought about what his father was up to, if he still worked in the same offices he had worked in before. If he was doing alright. Or if he was dead in an alley somewhere. He thought of if some loan-shark had finally caught up with him, cornered him in a dark place and sent a bullet through his head, the details of this particular daydream vast and intricate. He thought about a lot of things, his mind never staying on one for too long, afraid he might feel something. Everything inside hurt. His temple was still bruised, swollen above his eye in a deep dark green, forming the shiner under the large thing. Gun barrels would do that, he figured. He wondered what Liamh did to pass the time. If he was compelled to do... plant things. What ever those would be.

Liamh glanced at Newt as they walked along. The frog was quiet, but Liamh let him be. He could hear the ocean now, they were getting close. He was rather hoping to be there soon. The trees, though wide enough on the path, still felt a little... confining, some how. He wondered how the hell that was, since he was leafy himself now. Resource competition and the struggle for sunlight were foreign concepts to him - he just knew he'd never been a fan of the outdoors. He put his one hand in his pocket and braced the other one on his belt. Ahead of them, the trees broke out and the sandy spread of the beach was visible. Liamh gave a relieved sigh.

Newt paused in the soft sand with a panting KrrKIT as he stopped to catch his breath, still keeping his head down. Ordinarily, he would have been fascinated to talk to Liamh about whatever, about what it was like to be a plant, about machines and gadgets, about inventing and pinball and other fun things, but his heart wasn't in it. "Almost... th-th-there."

Liamh raised his viny hand and pointed over to the beach shack ahead, with the shade and refreshment it offered. He hated to admit it, but he was feeling a bit.... wilty... himself. "Yep... right this way, Senor. We fix you up." He trudged onward toward the thatched roof. He noticed, vaguely, how pleasant the sounds were out here. So different from the scuffle of the village, even from the electronic noises he usually took comfort from. It was like taking a deep breath of cold air, somehow.

Newt timidly made his way to the bar, pulling himself up into a standing position before sitting himself down and set his pillowcase down on the ground beside his stool. He was usually such a tea-totaler, he had never really experimented with alcohol at all. He gave a little croaking noise, "G-give me... wh-what ever. P-p-p-please." He added, in a foul mood but not foul enough to forget his manners.

Liamh chuckled, making his way around the other side of the bar and perusing the bottles. "Let's start out easy.... some orange soda, maybe some rum... uh... maybe a margarita... Oo, or one of those tequila sunrise things..." he rummaged around, pulling out bottles and ingredients here and there. "Peach sake is good, but i doubt they have that..."

"I... I'm n-n-not par-par-particularly f-fond of... car-car-carbonation..." He murmured, resting his head on the counter top to wearily watch as Liamh moved around, eyes following the movements of his strange viney hand. It was hypnotizing, watching the branches twitch and move in ways plants shouldn't have been able to move.

-in progress-

Thus far, Newt had had very little success with his home made security system. He wanted real string. He wanted real tools. He wanted real supplies. He had figured out several simple machines and simple mechanics he'd been able to fudge with things he'd found around the jungle, but his tinkering had been far easier before he had... The frog man sighed, not wanting to think about it. It had been a mistake. He shouldn't have done those things, but... but he couldn't help but admit that they had felt good. He had been angry and had expressed it. He would have been proud of himself if he wasn't so mortified by the repercussions of those actions. But HE. Newton Alexander Filinas. Had attacked TWO guards! Alright, so he had simply frightened the first with the sharpened toothbrush to the shoulder, but he was confident the second's face would be scarred for life. Razorblade fisticuffs would do that.

It was a dreary, overcast day that threatened a tropical shower at any minute, but the frog didn't care. What was a little more water? He didn't bother with most of the clothes the labs had been oh so kind to grant him when they had stripped his duplex out of everything, keeping mostly to his grubby, muddy stained swim trunks. He knew what he wanted on a day like this. He had hopped about to try to find Liamh, but the plant-man had appeared to be busy with... other friends, and Newt was far too shy to flag him down.

And so, the frog man had hopped towards the beach bar on his own to battle with his depression.

Alexa sighed softly. It had been days since she'd gotten out and done something. She'd been on this island for what... almost a week now, and she had only met one person. Granted, it was the person she hated and loved the most all in the same instant, but still. That was pathetic. She let Maryke win. She had surrendered to the fear the island had given her. Locked away, she'd been eating whatever she could find in the fridge of her duplex and staring out the window at the often cloudless sky. Now, the clouds had finally returned and she felt it was a miserable enough day to actually go outside. Maybe she could get a drink to calm her thoughts. She set out quietly, hoping to be hidden from any other monstrosities that might be walking around. Walking down the path towards the beach bar, her mind was far, far away. She just wanted to get there, grab a bottle or two, and head back to mope-ville.

Newt knew very little about drinking, and so had contented himself with a beer. He stay slumped over the bar, staring at the bottle with a frown. It was cold, American style. He had tasted beer before, curiously tested his father's when he had been sixteen and had.... gotten into a lot of trouble for it, and had never tried it again, but what he could remember tasted a sight better than this. Maybe it was the fact he didn't have any real taste buds anymore. That might have been it. Either way, the green lump of a frog man didn't notice someone else coming down the path.

As the trees opened up to reveal a pensive ocean and gray, dull sand, she spotted another at the bar. She stopped dead in her tracks, her fear seizing her. Another one of the freak show was here! Maryke hadn't been lying to her after all! And... this one looked like a giant frog. She shuddered, then mentally pulled herself together. After all, she was Alexa Drew Summers, who feared no man nor woman. This was no different! Just slightly... slimier... Swallowing her lingering fears, she pushed herself out of the clearing. As she approached, she called out, not wanting to startle the frog. After all, it might be a hungry beast hybrid with teeth and a carnivorous appetite. "Hey," she offered as she stepped behind the bar and got herself a bottle to match his own.

"Ah-!" Newt glanced up at the sudden appearance of the young woman, his wide eyes wobbling as he nearly fell off of his stool in a startled jump, despite her attempts to not surprise him. A human! It was a human! He hadn't seen a human in... since... well, months! Scrambling to crawl back on top of his stool in a low, nervous amphibious crouch, the frog-man peered up over the bar and wobbled in his Welsh stammer, "I... I... ah... y-y-you're... aren't... how... er... " Oh please oh please oh please let her already be knowledged of the island! Sayuri hadn't believed him, taking him for a fool, and Seth... well, Seth definitely knew now. Newt didn't like being one of the first to meet a new human, or "Normie" as the octopus man liked to shout angrily from the lake. It made him feel like a monster. "KrrKIT!" he added, throat inflating to power the croak.

She cocked a brow at his odd mannerisms. Was that the frog speaking, or was that just him? At any rate, he didn't have any sharp teeth so she no longer felt in danger. Popping the top off her bottle, she took a long swig and gulped it down with a refreshed 'ahhh' sound. It had been a while, she mused. She needed that. She set the bottle down, wondering what he was trying to say, and nearly giggling at the croak. "I'm human. Yeah, I know, and you're a frog man."

He glanced to the side, looking thoroughly embarrassed. At least it hadn't been "I'm human, and you're a janitor." Maybe it was the half a beer he had already poured into his wide lipless mouth, but he gave a quiet little giggle at that thought. That was a bright side, wasn't it? Never, ever again. He wasn't quite sure what to say, shyly glancing back up again to look her over. She was pretty, he supposed, but not as pretty as Natsumi had been... at least in his opinion. Few girls were as pretty as Natsumi in the frog man's mind. He glanced down again as soon as he realized he had been staring, lifting a webbed hand to nervously try to straighten his crazed, damp scraggly locks of remnant hair.

She came around the bar, watching him without really letting on. She took a seat, setting the glass bottle down against the wood with a soft clunk. She giggled when he looked away. She got that sort of reaction a lot, so it wasn't a big surprise for her, nor was it something he should be embarrassed about. She chose not to possibly embarrass him further by explaining that whole notion. Instead, she offered him her name. "I'm Alexa, and you are...?"

He glanced up, hairless brows furrowed nervously before he politely offered her his hand, "Ah... N-n-new-new-newton. Er... um... " Remember what Thom had taught you, you stupid frog! His other hand went behind his back to try to keep rhythm with his fingertips, "Newton... Filinas, M-miss..." He managed, looking proud of himself for saying it.

She giggled as he offered his hand to her. "You don't have to shake my hand to say hello." She noticed that he was proud of almost completely dispelling his stutter when he said his full name. She smiled a bit, finding him quirky but also quite charming, in a giant frog man kind of way... perhaps he just amused her. She wasn't really sure. "So... they turned you into a frog, I see..." she started, her eyes for the first time really truly analyzing his body. It was impressive that they could do this sort of thing to humans. It was more impressive that he could still talk and remembered all his human manners to spite the changes. That must be difficult... being human on the inside but animal on the outside... she shook her head a bit, her eyes finally resting back at his froggy face. "...does it hurt?"

His bulbous eyes blinked, brows furrowing at the question, "Ah... er... wh-wh-what? Er... r-right n-now? Or... ah...? And.. er... um..." He fidgeted, falling back into his awkward stammer, "I'm... n-not entirely d-done yet..." His face was still... almost human. More human than frog, anyway. At least it didn't particularly look like a frog to him, lacking any sort of snout. "I... I s-s-still have... ah... so-so-so-some hair," He added as though that was something to be proud of.

"Oh," she glanced away, then back again. She could see that he was still partially human. Perhaps Maryke was different because she was turning into a lemur, and lemurs were much like humans. Her fear was beginning to build up inside again. She didn't know what it was like, but she knew it was coming for her. No one knew how long, or why, or what she'd turn into, but she knew it was coming anyway. Anatomy changes as drastic as Newt's had to have hurt, especially the fusing of his arm and leg bones. And if that hadn't happened yet, she knew it probably would eventually, and it would hurt. Then again, maybe it didn't hurt. Bones fused naturally as a baby grew, so maybe it was unpainful? But babies had a long time to form, and bones had a long time to fuse... and these changes seemed to happen rapidly. "The chaning..." she said, her voice suddenly lax of all its strength and personality. "Do those hurt? How... how do they happen?"

"Oh..." He swallowed, glancing to his beer bottle before timidly picking it up to give his hands something to fiddle with as he spoke, "Er... y-yes... th-they... they d-do... ah... and.. um... w-well... th-they... wh-while we're... sl-sleeping or... or wh-whenever er... our b-b-bo-bodies have adjusted to the chem-chem-chem-chemicals I th-think it was... er... s-something like th-that... I... I have one l-left. Ch-change I mean..." Then there really would be no going back, would there?

"Oh..." she trailed off, her eyes dropping to some distant speck of sand far down the beach's shoreline. So, they hurt. That was wonderful. She'd be tortured for only God knew how long, and turn into an animal. She hoped it wasn't something horrible. Or something with an exoskeleton... or an invertebrate. She felt sick suddenly, as if her beer was some sort of poisoning agent, but she swallowed the nausea. She wasn't changed yet, so at least she had some time to enjoy herself. That's what it was all about, after all. Living for the now. Right? Heh. "So..." she started again, after a lengthy silence, "How'd you end up here?"

The frog-man glanced up, back to his drink and then back again before pouring the rest of his beer into his wide, froggish maw. He winced as he swallowed, eyes watering even with the watered down piss they offered here. "I... ah..." He thought about it. Eyes calculating for a moment before he tried to straighten up some and look impressive. "I.... I... I w-was t-tricked. I... I used to... to..." Again, he thought, creative juices sloshing about. Something more impressive than "Yeah, I worked here for five years until they grew sick of me and turned me into a frog." He cleared his throat, giving another froggish croak before speaking, "I... w-w-was... a... er... mech-mech-mechanical engineer." That sounded impressive enough, right?

She looked him over, again cocking a brow, this time accompanied by a smirk. This guy was an engineer? Well... he looked geeky enough. She had a suspicion he might be fabricating, but she decided to buy it for now. "I guess they trick a lot of people." She said nonchalantly, taking another sip of her beer without so much as a blink. "They made me think my old boss wanted me to come here to hide from the FBI." No use hiding her past if she was stuck here, right? Right.

"Y-your old b-b-boss?" That made the frog man lower himself down in his crotch to hide between his long skinny legs. "Ah... w-who...?" FBI? Were they really on the island or had that been part of the fabrication? Newt was a gullible man, not because he wasn't smart, but because of a poor sense of judgment regarding certain things without adequate data. Was it that terrible tiger-man? He seemed FBI-run worthy. Or that horrible octopus, he wouldn't be surprised, but he hardly seemed like a leader to the Frog.

She nodded, leaning back against the bar counter. A small sigh escaped her as she studied a nearby palm tree. Hmmm. So, life on this island couldn't be all that bad, all things considered. Her fears had been confirmed at least, so the uncertainty of what was going to happen was no longer present. However, that still left the fact that it was going to be painful. She pushed it from surfacing again, and glanced toward him when he asked who her boss was. "You probably don't know her," she said, brushing it off almost. "Name's Maryke, she's a real b***h when she wants to be."

"Ma-ma-ma-ma-maryke?" His face did light up with recognition, "Oh... ah... Y-yes, I.. I know her! I d-did a lot of..." He stopped himself. "I... er... g-gave her a hand... w-with some things... KrrKIT!" He wouldn't exactly call it a friendship. Morea like... a friendly... toleration.

"You know her?" She asked, looking genuinely surprised. She figured Maryke wouldn't mess with this guy. He looked like as a human he would have been thin and lanky and not all that attractive or useful. Then again, if he was a handy man like he said, Maryke probably talked him into doing her a favor of some sort... that was so like her. Soon her facial expression shifted to reflect her slightly annoyed thoughts. "Well apparently it was all a lie, she didn't want me to come and stay with her after all. In fact, she told me she found someone better than me. Some guy..." She wrinkled her nose, somewhat disgusted by the notion. Perhaps because Mayrke had made that choice, Alexa was clinging to a false hope. However, no matter what way this whole thing went down, Alexa was STILL clinging. She wasn't about to let go.

Newt's eyes widened at the thought, huddling down in his stool as he gave a timid ribbit. "Y-you... ah... " His voice was high and nervous, "M-m-m-mm-mean M-mr. Wuh-woo... Mr. Woodrow?"

"Who?" she cocked her head to the side. Obviously given her appearance, she hadn't been around very long, and didn't know very many people. She completely ignored the fact that he was huddling down between his amphibian legs as if scared by something she had said. Generally she would have been more keenly observing him, but right now she was intrigued by this new information. "Who is he...?"

"Wh-who is who?" He quivered, allowing himself to play stupid as a large insect fluttered in out of the drizzle, drawn by the light of the bar.

Alexa subconsciously pressed closer to the bar, having just now noticed the light misting coming down around them. At least there was shelter here so she wouldn't get wet. Unfortunately she couldn't avoid that forever if she wanted to go home tonight and sleep in her own bed. Well, the bed that was now hers, anyway. Again, she praised the island head honcho for giving her a nice room. She was sure, just by the looks of Newt, that not everyone had a room as nice as hers. Perhaps he didn't even have one to begin with. Her brows furrowed more deeply when he said this, decidedly ignoring her question. "This Mr. Woodrow guy. Who is he?"

"Oh... ah... I... Er... I d-don't know, I've n-never re-re-really... he j-just... ah... I th-think he lives in the lake..." He kept still, watching as the beetle flitted about the lamp before lowering itself down towards the bar, drawn by the sweet smell of spilled mixed drinks. It wasn't within range for but a moment before his tongue arched through the air to snap it back to his mouth with a sharp crack and a crunch.

She wondered if this stutter was constant, or if it got worse when he was lying. It seemed to be thickening and impeding his speech more. Just as she opened her mouth go question him further, his tongue shot out and captured the beetle. She cringed at the crunch, looking away and holding her stomach. That was... just disgusting. She took a few labored swallows, eyes squeezed shut, before she could manage to straighten up again and try to look at him. She had almost completely forgotten her question due to the sudden onset, but after a moment it returned. "So where is this lake?"

"Wh-what?" The frog blinked. He had gotten past being embarrassed about his eating habits around the others who were more understanding, but had forgotten how new this girl was and immediately sunk down, "Ah... oh, I'm... I'm s-sorry... er.. about th-that, I j-just... its' automatic s-sometimes... I m-mean... I've b-been avoiding the... the caf-cafeteria so... so c-catching my own f-food and... um..."

"It's... okay." She said, her face still somewhat pallored at the thought of him simply ingesting a flying, moving insect. Living bugs on their own were disgusting enough for her. She assumed that he'd know that, especially after meeting Maryke. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling if Maryke had met him, he should know that their kind wasn't really... liken to bugs. She cleared her throat, brushing her bangs from her face. "Where's this lake?"

"H-how... how c-could you m-miss it? Have... have you n-nuh-nuh-not b-been to the vuh-vuh-village?" Just how new was this girl? He swallowed his snack, wobbling a little on his chair. He felt he was ready for a second beer.

Alexa had already pushed her half-empty bottle away from her hand, afraid to drink it for fear of seeing it more than once. "I've been to the village but I haven't really looked around..." She looked down, somewhat embarrassed for the first time in a long time. He said it as if the lake was impossible to miss, and maybe it was. Especially if it was where this Mr. Woodrow lived. Of course, this meant he must be a water-bound creature. Another shiver ran up her spine. Maryke was with some lake-dwelling... thing? She wrinkled her nose.

"It's p-pa-pa-part of the village," Newt explained, hopping down to the ground with a plop before turning to hop around to the other side of the bar to root about for something else. "There's... new duh-duh-duplexes built on them. It's re-re-really lovely... with the j-jungle on the other side, they m-must have a woo-woo-wonderful view." He was almost jealous. He was an aquatic thing, wasn't he? But no, he had had to convert his own duplex himself, hadn't he? Stolen hose and pipes and altered plumbing, it had all been very complicated and taken him the better part of a month to sort out, and still he had been constantly battling with it to keep it functional. He missed it.

She nodded silently, understanding now. Damn, was she blind? She needed to pay more attention when she was walking around this place. It wasn't just about the impending doom, her duplex, and the beach! She needed to see this lake... and this Mr. Woodrow. But first, was it true? Newt seemed to be hiding something, as if he knew more but wasn't going to share. She knew she could pump him for information if she turned on a little more charm, but she just wasn't up for it. Maryke was ruthless enough to do it, but Alexa rarely if ever resorted to using her sexual appeal for information. So, instead she would pay her darling simian friend a visit. Duplex #56, she knew. She'd just... swing by... and interrogate the lemur woman who was formerly her boss and perhaps more. "I should be heading back..." she said, almost rushed. She slipped her hood over her head. "It looks like the storm will get worse before it gets better, anyway." She added, trying to justify her leaving so suddenly. It certainly wasn't Newt's fault, and she didn't want him to think she didn't' like him.

"Hrmm?" He peeped up over the counter in a little bouncing motion before wobbling straight upright to his near seven feet in height, searching about to see what he could see stored behind the bar. What if there was a corkscrew? A church key? Anything useful he could... borrow.

She hopped off of the stool and turned her head, looking back over her shoulder at the now extremely tall frog. "Unlike you, I don't really like water. It's bad for my hair and all..." She said, offering him a slight smile and hoping that he'd understand. Underneath that fake politeness, she was already far far ahead, entering Maryke's duplex and questioning the lemur woman on this man who lived in a lake, or a water house, or whatever it was they had to live in. "It was nice meeting you..." She added, watching him for a moment to see if he'd be upset by her leaving.

"Ah-" He only just seemed to notice she had started to leave, and immediately disappeared behind the bar to peer around the side of it at her in his shy little crouch, "Er... y-you... as well..." People never seemed to like to talk to him for very long. He figured it was the stutter. He hoped he hadn't said too much- Maryke would have his hide.

"See you around." She said with a smooth wave of her hand. She turned and started off into the rain, her flip flops making a wet clacking sound as they came off the beach with each passing step. Off to see the madam and get some answers, she thought. She wondered what the strange frog man was up to, and why he was hiding so much.

It wasn't like there was anything worth hiding here. Everything you did outside this world was gone forever, and everything inside this world was everyone's business. At least, that's how Alexa wanted it to work. She knew that couldn't be entirely true, but she hoped that at least now that she had a name, she'd be able to work some more information out of Maryke, and maybe solve this puzzling situation.