Welcome to Gaia! ::

Another day, and Newt was almost through his afternoon routine. Mornings consisted of waking up, locating some breakfast (larger and larger things he could find, these days, although those tended to be more difficult to catch. He usually ended up emptying out one or two of his bug traps for breakfast and a piece of toast and a cup of tea.) and then he was off for his rounds. When he had been a janitor, he had had a tight schedule. Wake up before the labtechs, water all the indoor flora, sweep out the animal's cages, remove all of the garbage out into the large dumpsters behind the main building, then enjoy a cup of tea and something to eat and avoid those security guards like the island's resident bovine who had taken it upon themselves to make sure his life remained miserable. When caught in situations like that, it was a matter of regaining his composure before moving in to answer any clean-up calls on his radio. Then it was a strict schedule to be able to empty all of the trashcans in his section by the end of the night before his superior yelled at him for taking too long, and a mop up of his assigned halls and wings. This all dotted by the occasional snuck cigarette, it was a fairly repetitive lifestyle. He'd filled this void for structure by coming up with his own new schedule that involved searching for any little bits of wire, plastic caps, pieces of wood or used tin cans from the cafeteria dumpster to form his hoard. Fidgeting with little things kept him busy and he liked it. He wasn't as extravagant or useful as Gaius and his construction, but he was happy to be of any help to the pegasas-to-be that he could manage. It was approaching noon, and getting fairly hot out, despite the clouds, and his beach-combing rounds had brought him to sit froggishly in the surf, staring down at his large flat feet with a wide-mouthed frown.

Emerwyn had spent the night in her little stranded position where she and Thom had departed. She never did have a problem sleeping in the jungle. As a matter of fact, that was where she always slept nowadays. However, never had she shut her eyes to unfamiliar sights and smells. She was still stranded, unable to hunt her way out. The girl had probably wandered in so deep that all sense of direction had been thoroughly mangled up, much as she thought when she'd met with the giant cobra. Giving up finally, the Doe curled up in some thick undergrowth and fell asleep. When she awoke, it was to find that the morning had already begun to wane. Momentarily fazed though she was at having slept so late, she quickly resumed her hunt for a way 'out of the woods.' It was at least a large relief that food was not hard to come by, at least for her. She could not to any extent imagine the horror of feeling the urge to actually eat a fellow - 'human being.'
In her musings, she did not notice the distinct smell of salt water, and the faint sound of rushing waves until she was nearly out of the thick. Noticing it, however, Emerwyn felt the urge to continue. She could then see the sun, learning her direction, and she could have a straighter path to the duplexes. It wasn't that she'd stay there when she returned, no. She just needed to know where she was. It was important to her human self.
Emerging from the thick foliage, she squinted her eyes tightly at the sudden bright light, reflecting on the hot, white sands.
In the distance, she could see a little squatting figure, very near the water. Perhaps he, or she, would know how far away the village was. Emerwyn made her way towards him.

He was a fat little fellow, all green froggish skin and silly lily-pad decorated swim trunks (thanks to the labs), and his feet now had completely disappeared under the rushing sand and water, although his frown still remained, wide bulbous eyes watering slightly at some unspoken memory.

Emerwyn's hair was all a mess, dirt and the like caught in it, her green clothing now quite faded. However, her bright eyes stood out from them. And those bright eyes had laid themselves upon those large, sad, green ones before. She recognized him, however vaguely, from their brief, and thoroughly awkward meeting.
Hoping to make amends, she smiled warmly. "Good afternoon," she said. "I do believe we have met before... though I daresay our meeting was interrupted."

At the sound of an approaching person, Newt gave a startled croak and instinctively made to hop away. Unfortunately, with his feet so thoroughly anchored in the sand, he merely managed to straighten up to his nearly forgotten six and a half feet before being snapped back down onto his back in the sand with a startled expression, "Ah.... ah... I... I hadn't h-heard y-you... ah... c-coming!" He squeaked as though that explained everything.

Emerwyn started back in surprise when the froggy fellow made such a ruckus at being startled himself. "Oh! I am so, so sorry. I did not mean to frighten you..." She walked around him, and leaned over, offering her arm to help him up.

His throat trembled as he watched the hoof-like hand for a moment before timidly taking it to help him at least sit, his feet anchored deeply. "I... I... ah... w-was s-sinking," he explained, "I... ah... hadn't r-really... s-since I... ah... f-for a while." He wriggled an ankle, trying to free up the large appendage. He... somewhat remembered the deer, but couldn't for the life of him remember her name. Not even the beginnings of it came to his sticky tongue and that made him feel even worse.

"Please," She finished helping him to a sitting position, and actually sat down on the moist ground beside him. "You needn't explain yourself..." She looked out across the ocean before them. The horizon was high from her low position. "The water is wide... Cannot see what lies beyond it. It is hard to think that anything truly does exist at the water's end." She turned back to the frog. "My name is Emerwyn. And we may both feel as fools, for your name also lies forgotten in the dusty attic of my mind."

Newt wiped his cheek with a slimy arm as he watched her curiously. Goodness, did she speak strangely! "Ah... I'm er... N-newton. N-newton F-filinas. Er... m-most p-people c-call me N-newt, although I'm... n-not s-sure I like that," He offered her a timid smile. "Er... I've... n-never heard of th-the n-name Emuh-muh... Emerwuh.... Emerwoo... aaah... er... y-your n-name b-before... wh-where d-does it come from?"

"Newton..." She nodded. She preferred that one to Newt. After all, it was a terrible notion, that he should be one amphibian and named for another.
"Emerwyn. Though, I have known friends to call me 'Emer.' Like you, I am not certain how I feel about the nickname, but it is endearing in its own right. The name comes from old Celtic roots, though I dare say my parents spiced it up a little." She smirked a little. Her parents never did tell her just why they'd named her the way they did. So, in her youth, she'd spun her own fanciful tales as she would. Her favorite was that she had been named for a great warrior woman of the old, from the ancient woods of Britain. She was one who led many people, and loved one man. How far her 'descendant' had fallen.

"M-m-might be easier to s-say," He smiled weakly. For some reason he wasn't so nervous around her. Maybe inwardly the frog knew a deer wasn't going to bother it. He gave his foot another tug, trying to pull it free with a jerking motion that sent sand spraying over his flat face and round front. "Ah... b-blast!"

"If you wish, you may also call me by that name."
Emerwyn flinched as Newt valiantly tried to free himself from the sand trap. Wiping away sand that had flown her way, she leaned over to Newt.
"Would you like a hand? If I dig the sand away, you should be able to free yourself."

"I... er... if... if y-you could?" His sad, wide froggy smile wavered slightly as he shifted to give her better access to his still stuck ankle.

Curling her hoofs into makeshift shovels, Emerwyn scooped at the sand around Newt's foot. She moved gingerly, as not to scratch his soft froggy skin. Soon enough, Emerwyn's 'fingers' were lodged with sand, the foot had ample room to remove itself.

"Er... th-thank you," Once freed, he hopped backward to shake the sand from his rolled up jumper and the remnants of his scraggly hair.

"Do not think on it - my pleasure." She smiled. Then, suddenly, the woman remembered why she had approached Newton in the first place.
"Newton," she said. "You wouldn't happen to know which way the village is. You see, I got myself quite disoriented in the trees and vines the other day, and lost all sense of direction."

He took a moment to glance back and forth along the beach before pointing a webbed hand upward, "Er... I b-believe it's th-that way..." He allowed himself to steal a glance at her doeish features, curiously trying to gauge how far along she was without seeming rude.

She looked off in the distance, then her face trailed up, looking curiously in the direction of the sun. She could have learned it from Him, as well. What a silly girl! But she gave credit where it was due. "Many thanks to you, noble sir."
She looked questioningly now at Newton, seeing something searching in his enormous eyes. Then she smiled. "I know, I must look a wreck, do I not? All I have been doing since last I transformed was running and running... Never stopped to see just how many layers of mud caked themselves in my hair."

"I... I s-suppose th-that's n-natural f-for... er... a d-deer, is it?" He kept feeling like he was caught in the middle of a candid stage play, and cleared his throat nervously, "Ah... I.. I m-mean, if th-that's wh-what you are..."

"If I am not, then I have been sorely mistaken for a very long time." Emerwyn idly plucked the sand from between the hoofs with her thumb. Her bit of stage business. She still looked up at Newton, however, who was seated center stage. "It certainly feels natural to run, no question there. What feels natural to you, Newton?"

He glanced to the side with an embarrassed sort of fidget before the familiar croak popped from his throat, "KrrKIT I ah..." He swallowed, and ended with a bit more enthusiasm, "H-hopping I sup-sup-suppose... b-but... b-but I... I d-do like t-tuh-tinkering."

Emerwyn laughed softly and appreciatively. "Yes, yes, I do suppose that hopping would suit one of your build the best... Tinkering? Do you mean, tinkering with gadgets, and the like?" she asked curiously.

"Ah... Er... l-little th-things, yes," He wet his lips with his sticky tongue, shifting to try to straighten up now that the spotlight had swiveled to him. "I... w-with... um... " He pointed his fingers together, trying to illustrate without saying it. "Er... fuh-fuh-ff-ff..."

Her head tilted to the side. "I'm sorry? I don't quite understand you... Could you... spell it perhaps?" Emerwyn wasn't sure if Newton was a stutterer, or just a very nervous fellow. She was leaning toward the latter, but all the same...

"F-find th-things and... " He blurted out, but was interrupted by his throat swelling slightly before releasing, "KrrKIT! Ah... er.... s-seeing if... if I c-can reuse them."

"That's fascinating." Emerwyn said honestly. "Do you find many things washed up on the beach?" That part particularly interested Emerwyn. The mere concept of finding things from the outside world would become an all-consuming prospect.

"N-not... n-not usually, except... b-broken glass and.... c-c-cans from... th-the p-parties and s-suchlike..." When she showed interest, it seemed he managed to at least stay at a level that he could keep some sort of rhythm to the wording. "I've b-been.... s-saving l-little b-bits I've f-found all... p-po-polished up by the r-reefs. Thought I'd m-make a w-wind ch-chime or something if I c-could... d-drill a little hole in them or s-something."

Emerwyn became a little crestfallen, but she still listened aptly to Newton. "A wind chime," she mused. "That would be absolutely lovely... It is long since many of us have made any music. The sound will fall blessed onto weary ears."

He beamed when it seemed like she liked his idea, (or at least he think she did, with her strange way of phrasing things, he wasn't entirely sure if he misunderstood something or not,) throat puffing proudly, "I... I.. I c-could m-m-make you one for your d-duplex if... if you w-wanted one!"

Emerwyn positively glowed when Newt said that. "Would you, really? That would mean a great deal to me, Newton. It really would." She smiled.

"Ah... ah... I'd... I m-mean... I'm s-still working on it... it's d-difficult w-with... with only a f-few t-tools and things... b-but... b-but m-m-muh-maybe D-doctor L-lockheart c-could... ah... s-send me some j-jewler's d-drills and th-the like?" He beamed. His own tool kit was limited and clumsy for more delicate work, but it would keep him busy if he had more little fiddly things to do. A hot glue gun could only go so far. He had been told no moters, but maybe a little hand drill? Something he could crank himself, if it was possible to drill through glass that way...

"Oh please, you needn't feel obligued. The gesture alone was enough for me. These things should not be rushed..." Emerwyn wiped her brow subconsciously. It was getting frightfully warm, as the sun just passed its peak, now entering the hottest part of the day.

"Ah... oh..." He swallowed, shifting in his crouch to glance up and down the leignth of the beach, as though expecting someone to come and interupt them. But they were alone, and he was well on his way to making a new friend. He was rather proud of himself for that much. "Ah... um. W-well... I'll... w-where c-could... wh-when I f-finish it I mean, wh-where d-do you... ah...?"

Emerwyn brought her legs in, sitting in a strange looking cross-legged position.
"I live in Duplex number Eighteen. I am not there terribly often, but I do stop in several times a week... We should arrange for another meeting, Newton - even before your music is ready." Emerwyn had always somehow managed to be able to speak with even the most disagreeable company. Mostly, this was because even the cruelest of folk did not know quite what to make of her. But she had rarely been able to connect with anyone. Newton was so unassuming. She did not judge him, and in return, he granted her the same favor. He was truly a pure soul, and Emerwyn had taken a very strong liking to him.

"Ah... y-you're... one of th-the ah... older ones," He smiled weakly, but noted the state of her patchy furr, "Ah.... b-but... y-you aren't f-finished yet?"

"Older ones... yes," Emerwyn sighed. "I have been here for well over a year, actually. Though, your observations are correct; I know I have yet one more awaiting me. I do not know quite why... I only just reached the stage I am at now, so I may assume I shall be almost done with my second year by the time I am complete... provided it ever happens."

"Wuh-well... w-well, I r-remember h-hearing the t-techs t-talking about... m-mm-mo-mo-metabolic r-rates and... and s-serums effecting d-different con-con-constitutions and the like," He murmured in an attempt to be helpful. "I... ah... h-have one m-m-more to go as w-well, I b-buh-believe..." He scratched at his head with his nobbly-webbed fingers, stomach giving a growl.

It was true; Emerwyn was never very strong at all. And not only that, she had been severely ill for a very long time. It would probably have been very dangerous to throw her off like that. This relieved Emerwyn some. She wasn't dysfunctional, then. She wasn't... going to die. She nodded.
"My thanks to you. That brings peace to me. The islanders seem to be - 'moving along' at a faster rate as of late. Or, perhaps, it is simply my being overwhelmed by just how many people are living here. In the old days, we all knew each other. I hardly see any of them anymore..." She thought of those who she viewed as good friends - Emelyn and Greer had been like sisters to her. Where were they now? Emelyn, she knew, had been hurt, but she had to be better now. But Greer? She did not know.

"Ah... I s-suppose it w-would be s-strange... it's b-become l-like a c-city, almost, hasn't it? D-did you s-see the theater b-being built?" She seemed like the type to take an interest in it.

A city. That struck a cord. New York City was the last place she lived in her 'time on Earth.' You rarely saw the same person twice, lest you intended to.
"A theatre?" Newton could not be more right about Emerwyn's interest. "I did not... What a glorious idea." A thousand ideas spun around her head. "Who, may I ask, is organizing such a project?"

"Ah... w-well, M-mister G-gaius has b-been d-doing all the b-building. He's the man to ask if y-you w-want to help at all, b-but ah..." He shifted, the nerviousness coming back to him, "M-muh-Mister W-woodrow th-thought it up, I th-think. He's doing th-the ah... auditions." His smile slowly returned as though remembering something funny, "Th-there's a r-rather... ah... m-messy letter about it on the b-buh-bullitan board."

"Gaius... Woodrow. I am not familiar with either of those people. Mayhaps you might introduce me to them sometime?"

"G-gaius is r-really nice," Newt brightened up at the talk of his friend, "He's c-come up w-with the whole d-design of the p-place! I h-helped w-with the buh-benches! B-but he's really c-clever." The smile faded at the mention of the other man, though, "I d-don't like M-mr. W-woodrow m-much, though. He m-makes me... ah... uncomfortable."

"Wonderful, I look forward to meeting Gaius, then." Woodrow was apparantly another of the more undesirable islanders. Perhaps his hard personality would make him a good director, then?
"Why don't you tell me what they look like? That way I may also find them on my own." It was frightfully easy to spot people by simple statement of which animal they are, since the doctors seemed rather keen to avoid duplication, though it seemed to happen sometimes...

"Ah, w-well, G-gaius is v-very t-tall, w-with a... l-large, th-thick n-neck and... w-well, he's... r-rather m-muscled and... er... has th-these l-little p-pointed ears and b-bluh-black curly hair..."

If they were different people, in a different place, this would simply sound like the description of a muscular man with oddly pointed ears. But Emerwyn's mind image was a little more exaggerated, as was neccessary here. She nodded.

"Er... and ah... M-mr. W-woodrow is... w-well... v-very sh-short, I sup-suppose... ah... no hair... er... m-more of a... " He gestured at his mouth, "Ah... b-beak and um... l-lots of... w-wriggly t-tentacles. H-he's... q-quite t-terrible to l-look at."

Emerwyn frowned. All those tentacles... She certainly knew someone who looked like that, and he certainly was not an agreeable person, even by her standards. "Excuse me, Newton, but would Woodrow happen to be this man's... last name? Only because it would be a great and terrible coincidence for there to be two unfriendly tentacled fellows wandering about."

"Er... w-well, th-there w-was th-that... t-terrible m-man w-with b-black t-tentacles th-that... t-tried to s-scare th-the... the hop out of me too, I d-don't like him m-much either."

"Black tentacles? I am afraid that cannot be who I am thinking of, no... The man I know... his are more of a purple, or blueish hue." So there were two cruel tentacled people... or more, if this Woodrow proved to be his own essence. "What is the name of the black tentacled man?"

"Er... I... th-think... th-think it w-was... er... R-richard. Th-the... the other is s-sometimes b-blue, yes! B-but um... s-sometimes he's other c-colors too."

She sighed in relief. But, still. This Woodrow had to be Billy.
"I believe he can be none other than Billy.
As for Richard..." She had met a strange, but nice old man named Richard. He couldn't have possibly been the same one. After all, Emerwyn had no idea how Richard had been progressing, for she had met him fully human. "I do not know him."
"Either way," she continued. "I will have to make a point of meeting with Mr. Woodrow all the same. Some things cannot be avoided, and I certainly shall not miss out on such an opportunity for the sake of a nasty and bitter man."

"Well... I suppose he's... g-g-got lots to b-be b-buh-buh-bitter about? I d-don't know," He shifted, floundering. "B-but... if y-you w-want to b-be in the show, you've g-got to talk to him."*

Emerwyn nodded. She had certainly learned that, the day that Billy was in odd sorts, and had relayed to her his sad story. It was from that day that she'd harbored a soft spot for Billy, even though he frustrated her so.
"You will keep me up to date on its progress, won't you? It has been far too long since I have had something to look forward to." Emerwyn wiped her brow again. It would soon be time to go.

He fidgeted, feeling salty and dry himself, and in need of a good dip in the river on his way back. "Er.. f-feel... f-free to come v-visit sometime... if you w-wanted."

"And where is your duplex, Newton?" Emerwyn asked, wiping sand off of herself.

"Er... f-f-fuh... F-fifty two. Th-the... er... upstairs one. It's a l-little m-m-muddy though, I warn you."

"In my condition, I am certain it will not be a problem. If anything, I should add to the mess." She laughed lightly. "Newton, I am pleased that we were able to reaquaint ourselves." She leaned over on an impulse, and gave him a small kiss on his froggy cheek. Then she rose.

He flinched at the gesture, a sharp "KrrKIT!" escaping his throat, "I... ah... y-yes... m-mm-muh-me too."

"Fare thee well, Newton!" she said, coming up to full height. "Until we should meet again."
With a final wave, she turned, heading in the direction of the village, shaking her hair out, quite ready for a shower.