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Ambrose and Emelyn...

She lay back on the sand- it was getting in her hair and eking down the back of her swimsuit, but she really didn't care, and she closed her mind to the sensation of the crunching sand, and opened her eyes to the soft, easy clouds above her. They seemed so far up, so peaceful and calm. She'd had the sky on her mind ever since her conversation with Greer- and the idea that the woman may possibly be able to fly someday. Being so far away from everything, immersed in quiet and wonder- it appealed to this girl who was used to being a million different places at once. ...Staying in one place for so long... it was taking its toll on her. Many things were taking their toll.

"I don't even know why I'm down here," she said to herself, and perhaps to that cloud that looked a little like a ram... "There's no one here." She brushed the goggles away from her forehead, sacrificing them to the mass of still spongy quills, and sighed to herself, "Not that I'm looking for anyone." It didn't much bother her that she was talking to herself- it was a common affectation for her, since she often traveled alone.

"Not looking for the Dude… not looking for Greer, or the doctors- and not looking for Ambrose." …He'd been on her mind, too. The Dude's hints… hadn't exactly been subtle, and if anything, she'd been avoiding him, just in case the sea lion's hopeful nature had caused him to make the same thinly veiled suggestions to him

As if speaking his name had summoned him forth into existence, not a few moments after Emelyn had uttered Ambrose's name to the clouds above her, a familiar 'pat-pat-pat' noise of bare feet on sand reached her ears.

Wandering out onto the now-familiar sandy stretch of the beach, Ambrose had begun to consider it both a safehaven for thoughts, as well as a location that often brought him face to face with someone to talk to. He had had some of his most intersting conversations here on the beach... but also some conversations that he wasn't exactly proud of. All in all, however, Ambrose was still feeling social today, perhaps as a result from his meal alone in the storage room with the supplies even after his conversation with Greer hadn't sated him. He had had more than enough of his share of alone time over the past couple of days and he craved company. Hell, he craved more than that, he knew, but as for that, there was more than a few complications.

He had actually left his fencing supplies at home, along with any pretense that he had come here to work on his epeework. The sun setting on the beach was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen on the island, and more than ample of a backdrop for his thoughts than during a workout. Besides, he had just finished showering.

As he walked down the dunes of the beach, his eyes did indeed catch on a figure lying in the sand - and his silent hope to find someone out here to talk to was rewarded. Seeing the quills and the goggles from the back fo her head, however, caused him to nearly miss a step. Emelyn... He had just been thinking about her earlier.... Some part of him was intrigued by her - there seemed to be a lot more to her than he had revealed through his few casual conversations. Part of him was eager to learn more... another part of him said that it was becuase of the all-too-familiar deep blue eyes under the mop of brown hair.

The sound of feet on the sand made Emelyn roll onto her stomach, her suited torso supported by a protective arm, and peer up at who was coming up behind her. She almost swallowed her breath at the sight of the wolfen man- and his name was breathed in her mind, and on her lips. "Ambrose," she said, wondering if her voice had carried up through the sea breeze- for it had sounded too soft in her head to be real. "I didn't know anyone was here." She wondered if he'd heard her talking to herself... or heard his own name.


Ambrose's hearing did indeed pick up on her startled whisper, and after his hestitation, he continued walking towards her as he spoke.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt you if you wanted to be alone." He murmured, tucking his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. This was the first time he had warn them since his change, exposing the furriness of his shins. "I just... well... the beach seems to have become a popular place and I was seeing if anyone might be out here on such a fine night as this." He finished, stopping about ten paces from her, not wanting to bother her if she did want to be alone. "I just arrived, though - I haven't been here long at all."

She noted his tentative steps- and wondered if he was just trying to give her space- or if he didn't want her to see the fur on his legs. She didn't bother telling him that she had a similar, although lighter outcropping on her own- or that her nocturnal senses were starting to develop into fine vision. It was why she could see the russet grey clouds in the night sky, and distinguish their shapes as they drifted along. "No, you're not disturbing me." She let herself drop back onto the sand and rolled back onto her back, supporting her torso up from the back this time, her arm stretched out. "And if it's company you were after, company you've got. Sit down." She patted the sand at her side.

He smiled, taking a seat next to her on the sand that still held the warmpth of the day as the air was cooling to a more tolerable temperature. "Thanks, Emelyn." He smiled, looking over her face again. As strange as it was, maybe the subtle mix of animal features on her face helped him... distinguish her. This was a wholly different person despite resemblances, someone new who was also stuck in a very similar situation as he. And he really did feel something of a connection to the mysterious woman.... or at least a healthy dose of curiousity. Or was that the Dude's influence and his own imagination that her appearance initially hooked.

Well, even if he wasn't looking for a relationship... he was certainly looking for friends here. "How have you been doing...? I... I am truly sorry if our conversation last time disturbed you. I know how delicate of a position we're all in."

She shook her head, smiling as she did so as she looked out at the ocean. "Well, it did disturb me." Emelyn believed in being honest, "But you don't have to aplogize. I'd rather a disturbing life than a sheltered one. It gave me a lot to think about." She wiped the quills up off her forehead with a flick- they were always getting in the way these days, and then put the hand back down on the sand- realizing that it was painfully close to the man... but not wanting to move it for fear of seeming timid with it.

Ambrose's eye was drawn to the movement of the hand, and laid to rest on it as she placed it close to his on the sand.
"I know how you feel." he said quietly. "My own mind has been rather overactive as of recent. Probably too much so. I guess this is what happens when you're put somewhere out of context of everything that was normal to you before and you completely break the routine of your old life. I kind of feel like I'm floundering here sometimes. Even with things to occupy my time like helping Greer with the butterfly house, or practicing and teaching fencing... it's still... I don't know... it almost seems shallow as mean as that might sound." He winced. "I'm sorry - please stop me if I sound like I'm whining." He shook his head. "See - too much thinking. My mouth starts running."

"Oh no," She said, turning her head from the sea to look at him, instead. His voice drew her to his eyes- wondering if the pain that she could hear... was visible, as well. "It's not whining. I understand what you mean exactly." She sighed, letting her chest rise and fall with the weight of all the things she'd been thinking in one heavy huff. "It feels like I've been completely cut off from the pace of my life. ...I've not been in one place this long since I was twelve." She didn't add that she'd realized... that she was totally alone, and that there was no one even pining her absence. There would never be a search party for her. Never a teary funeral. It was what ate at her, more than the disrupted pattern of her life.

"Really?" He asked, "I couldn't imagine that... always on the move, never some place to really call home?"

He shrugged, wrapping his arms around his knees as he gazed out at the water that reflected the amazing violets and magentas of the setting sun. "I've traveled a lot, but I've always had a home to return to. My parents lived in the same place all my life... and I lived there until I moved away to college. But even then I really didn't move that far away. Even stayed in teh same state as sad as that might be. But... since I moved out, I knew exactly what I wanted to do... I had a pattern, you know? And... while it had its share of difficulties, I never expected to be so... derailed. That... that's how I feel now." He looked down to his bare feet half-burried in the sand. "And I guess part of me is thinking that it is just a setback. That... somehow... things will get back on course. And I'd really like to believe that. But... it's hard. I've never exactly had a great deal of 'faith' if you catch my drift. Always been more of a realist. But here..." He snorted. "Neither 'option' seems all that realistic. This whole scenario is something out of a bad made-for-TV movie." He looked back over to her, and part of him thought about how pretty her face looked in the play of colors from the sunset.

"Why have you moved around so much..?" He asked, realizing he was selfishly focusing on himself again.

She'd kept silent as he spoke, watching his eyes, and his lips as the words formed on them- nodding at certain junctions- quite often, because she understood what he meant, and she could feel that there was a lot stewing beneath the surface of this man. When he spoke of faith- and how he'd never really found any, Emelyn saw a cruel mirror of herself, and she wanted to tell him, like the old Em would, that there was faith in yourself- and faith to be had in the people and circumstances around you. She used to believe that the world was essentially fair. ...But ever since Mizzie's death- she'd become just like Ambrose. Faith... didn't hold much place in her heart, these days.

"Well," she said, answering his question, "I used to do it because it was my passion." She paused, and pulled the aviators goggles off her head, and dropped them gingerly in his lap. "...My Grandpa John gave me those when I was 11. I used to love Amelia Earhart. She was my idol. He even took me up in a plane- a Lockheed, like she flew. I was petrified, but the goggles made me feel better." She laughed at how absurd it sounded. "The strappers fell apart years ago- but I keep those with me. ...Probably to remember why I started travelling in the first place. Now, I think I just do it- to... try and get away." The pause that followed was immense- and for some reason, she found herself telling Ambrose willingly what she'd never told any other islander without prompting. "Ever since my sister died. Last year."

He smiled as she recounted her story, picking up the goggles with a gentle care, turning them over in his hands. He could smell the memory of leather on the straps... and they seemed to really be heavy with the weight of sentiment. He listened to her story as well, smiling. Like Greer, it seemed that Emelyn held passions in her chest - a curiousity that was refreshing compared to the people that he was often surrounded by in the New England socials and school systems.

"I'm sorry" He spoke quietly, recognizing the weight in her voice as a signal that she must have been very close to her sister. Ambrose had never reallly lost a family member that close to him, and always felt a little uncomfortable when someone spoke of teh death of a loved one. How could he truly relate to that. "It sounds like the two of you were very close." He finally said. "That must have been very hard." He looked to her as he handed her the goggles back, his hand lingering a bit on hers as she took them.

She couldn't answer him- not for a few moments, for somehow a burst of heat had touched her as his fingers did, and she didn't entirely understand it. She focused instead on replacing the goggles amidst the mass of quills, and catching a breath she didn't realize she'd lost. "We were close," she said, stretching her neck out as if it would dissolve the quickly forming lump therein, "but not close enough, I guess, that I was home with her when she was diagnosed with cancer. I was in Poland at the time." Her voice was suddenly soft. "I flew back immediately- to New England, actually. Connecticutt, is where she lived with Grandpa John- before he died. Year before. And I was with her for the treatment. But it wasn't enough." She pressed at a point on her forehead, shaking her head slowly. "I'm sorry. Now I'm rambling."

He shook his head. "No... don't apologize. Sometimes burdens can run around in your head forever until you let them out through words." He winced. "That's something Angelina told me at least..." He sighed. "I have a bad habit of bottling things up as well." He scratched his arm.

"But I have to admit... sometimes it's too much for one person alone."

"I'm so sorry about your sister." He swallowed with a wince, remembering back to the talk about cancer. "I... dear lord, I really didn't have much tact last we spoke, did I?"

Rather than answer his question, Emelyn suddenly broke out in a spontaneous smile- despite it all. "Dear Lord... oh, I thought I'd never hear a phrase like that again." She laughed despie herself. "You really are from New England, aren't you?"

Ambrose barked a laugh, feeling the mood lighten again. "Yes" He said amidst chuckles. "It's that obvious, huh?"

He shook his head, still grinning, the expression bringing out the boyishness of his features.

"So... you've been doing a lot of thinking as well? Have you reached any conclusions?"

"Thinking thinking... ooooh, I do a lot of thinking." She drew her knees up to her chest- it was getting a little chilly out here on the beach with the sand cooling and the sea breeze still rolling in off the tide. "Conclusions though- not so much. I'd only just convinced myself that I was to blame for everything that happened to me, when I decided... that it needed further revisiting. I figured that Moreau was doing the right thing, and that I was right to become some sort of martyr for the cause. ...But now I'm not so sure." She sighed again, speaking almost matter-of-factly. "Right now, the only thing I'm sure of... is that I'm alone. I don't know if I really ever need to get off this island- because there's no one waiting for me."

His brows were heavy over his eyes as he listened, shaking his head a little bit. "Not to sound presumptuous.... but how can you be blamed for your sister's cancer? For ending up here - as werent you shipwrecked? I know... that blaming yourself can often be the easiest way to try to deal with pain.... to shoulder that burden as opposed to choking it up to just the way things are... but it's not usually true."

He shook his head. "And... while I think that it's wonderful that you have found perhaps a reasoning to being here - some purpose... I honestly can't agree with it myself. There are better ways to do what he claims he is doing I would think. And certainly better ways that pulling people from their lives unwittingly - whether or not they give consent after the fact. If what he was doing was truly that moral... he wouldn't have to be doing it on a secluded Island outside of the US." He shook his head.

"And I say that you're lucky." He looked out to the horizon as the sun was swallowed by the ocean, unphased by the changing temperature. "I feel... cut off here. There was no closure to anything. I .... I haven't told many people, but I essentially ran away from home. I was furious with my parents and we hadn't spoken in over a year. And now I feel horrible about that. I... I really do love them... and I wish that they reciprocated. And Angelina..." He sighed. "I mean.... what am I supposed to do? That's what's burdening me the most. We're still together... well... were.... If we had broken up... if it really was life and death that separated us, then I could move on. I would know that there really was nothing still binding us. But that's not the case. I DO still love her, and I know that she still loves me. And I know she's alive out there, maybe even looking for me - or maybe she thinks I'm dead. I have no idea... and I don't want to give up hope."

He breathed in a lungfull of air. "The closest I've settled on is that I still look human enough to pass for normal.... maybe with a few alterations. I could still go home and live my life. If the experiment really doesn't do more to me than this... or whatever.... and so I still have hope. And I am trying not to think about the alternative that is trying so damndably hard to close in on me. Especially after seeing Greer change again." He kicked at the sand, realizing that he was opening a can full of worms on top of this nice woman whom he barely knew. He usually wasn't this forthright with his emotions at all - he bottled them up inside. Why was he telling his life story to her? His mind proferred two options that he didn't much care for - she reminded him of angelina... or it was the lupine side of him that sought companionship.

"Oh Ambrose," she said, feeling something more than pity as she placed her hand across his, her fingers grazing the sand at its edges, "It sounds like you actually do have faith. Or maybe hope is different from faith. ...I don't know. ...It's such a fragile thing- I don't want to crush that faith... but you have to know that you can never go back." The words stung in her mouth, an left a bad taste in the back of her throat- it felt like her words were poisoned daggers, and she hated every thrust. But another part of her egged the words on- as painful as it was, she couldn't abide by him from... moving on. Living his life here, as well as he could. "If you go back, I believe it that you won't last long. Moreau may be a liar... but I don't think that a human body can put up with this..." she held up a nearly-clawed hand, "for very long without upkeep. If you go back- you'll die. ...If you could even go back."

The next words were whispers, and they stung in the night through her lips. "I don't want to take away your hope," she said again, "but I don't want you living a life of regret. That's not a life. You have to start living here." Something compelled her... and she put her hand up against his face, turning his eyes to meet her with a gentle touch. "It's all we have left." The words echoed in the moonlight.



Ambrose's eyes stung with the harsh reality of her words. As much as he was trying to disbelieve it... he knew, deep down, that it WAS true. The fragile hope he had been building was just cleverly-disguised denial.. and he knew it.
But still, he tried to protest. "But they said the procedure was unpredictable. What if it doesn't change some of us as much as others... or further treatments just cements the changes that have occurred..." Those were the flimsy notions that he had tried to use to cement his optimism. "My humanity... your humanity... I believe that we still have it. I mean... truly... look at us... it's not that bad yet..."

He swallowed, his words catching is his throat as she directed his face towards hers with her warm hands, he saw the emotion in her eyes and the emptiness in his chest reached for it. The moment seemed to linger on the cool beach, the newly risen moon glimmering off the glass of her goggles, catching in the pools of her eyes. And a whisper in his ear asked if perhaps this was an answer... of sorts....

"I believe we still have our humanity, too. But not because it can be reversed. But because he can't change who we are." Her hand hadn't left his face while he spoke, and she now took it off- and the release was almost a jolt of its own, as she touched the mass of quills that built up past her hairline. "They may give me these- and these..." her claw-like fingernails ran across her cheek, "but this will always be me." She laid her hand across her heart, not aware she had so much feeling- she'd thought it had all died... and she was so overwhelmed that she was actually feeling something so strongly... that wasn't guilt, or fear... that tears ran down her cheeks. "And it doesn't matter where I am."

His face crinkled as he saw the strength of her emotions, and he chewed hard on his inner lip instinctually to keep it from pouring forth in front of someone else.
"I don't think that a reversal is realistic either... but even with where we are now... it can be disguised, shaved, and so forth. If they don't progress further... we could live normal lives back home."

"But... on the other hand.... if we do change further... if our faces become those of animals... how mcuh of who we are is what we present to the world? What other people think of us when they see us? They say if you wear a mask for long enough than you become that facade...."

He sighed and shook his head. "Things are so complicated." He gave a half-smile to her. "Welcome to a segment of the turbulent thoughts that have been playing through my mind lately."

She smiled. "I think we wouldn't be human, if we weren't so conflicted." She turned her claws over in the moonlight, examining them- and wondering how long until they really looked like an animal's. "So long as we agonize, we know we are human." She gave him a wry smile. "And yes, we could hide what we are from now- but how long until you think Moreau is going to change us? Not long enough to escape." She was tired of the pregnant pauses, so she just continued, letting the words that had been in her mind since their last conversation roll off her tongue. She was being so open- why stop now? "I... saw your transformation. I thought I should let you know. Moreau showed it to us-the tape... that girl, Thorn, and I. I don't know how he thought it would convince us- but I saw it. ...I'm sorry."

He couldn't help but give a small chuckle at that. "I suppose that much is true.... and the Doctor did say that he was pretty certain that we would, at the very least, retain our minds and our memories. Which I don't think I could bear knowing otherwise."

He shook his head. "I didn't mean try to hide out from further injections. I am pretty certain that he administers them in our sleep as it is. I just mean that maybe the experiment doesn't work the same on all of us. That the changes won't be as sweeping as the Doctor hopes. Or maybe since Greer's already changed, that I've already received my third injection as well and haven't changed any further. Because she changed for the first time after I did..." He shook his head. The hopes that he was describing were getting thinner and thinner.

He looked seriously to her as she admitted the fact. "You... saw that?" He squirmed a bit, as the memories of that night were vividly called to his memory. The pain.... the crying, and suddenly he had a hard time meeting her eyes, his face burning. "You must think me a child..."

"No. Pain is pain. No one is immune to what it does to us. ...When you're in pain, you forget that anything outside of yourself exists. Your world shrinks." She was speaking from an experience of emotional pain, and how her existance had shrunk to the size of her own fear- tight and controlled around herself, and how that feeling didn't go away until the pain had subsided. "I actually thought you were very brave. If I'd had such a hard transformation- I might have thrown myself over the cliffs."

He shrugged, feeling a little bit better at least. "Thanks... and... yeah, it's true. I guess I didnt' really think about the fact that people would have been watching me during that." he shuddered again. He didn't want to think about a repeat performance of that episode... especially as any further changes could only get more painful.

"I hope that you don't have to experience anything like that." He said sincerely. "Hell, I wish that no one here did."

"Well, I think people have had an easier time with it thus far... but it's only going to get worse." She let some of her own fear shine through, and her breath came out as a shudder. "The quills that have come out so far... have transformed from the normal hair follicles. But when they start cropping up along my back... those will have to come free on their own. I've looked it up in the library. Hedgehogs have over 7,000 spines. ....I can just imagine them coing through in a matter of hours. Like a cavalcade of daggers in..." her breath abandoned her, and she was unable to finish the sentence.

His mouth hung open for a moment before he shook his head quickly to right it. "Dear lord.... and I thought the thick fur was bad... growing hair from where there were no follicles before.... but quills?? You have to ask the Doctor if he can give you some morphine before he injects you... I heard that the Dude was able to get some..." He shook his head.
"But with the surprise injections that they seem to be resorting to.." Ambrose trailed off. "By the time most of the people have found out they'd been injected, it was too late - especially to run to the town center to get drugs."


"Moreau... told me I couldn't have painkillers. That it would disturb the transformation," Em said quietly, trying to regain her voice from where it had dropped, seemingly into the depths of the sea.

Ambrose looked confused. "That doesn't seem to make any sense. Why did he let the Dude have them then...?" He thought on how the Dude and Moreau didn't get along. "Unless that's the point... but I didn't think that Moreau would risk the health of his 'experiments.'"

She looked up at Ambrose- engaging in another one of the pauses she hated so much in their.. unpredictability. "So... he lied to me," she said, her eyebrows furrowing into a level line above her still so blue eyes.

He opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, in light of her take on leveling with him as far as the reality of the situation he responded. "Unless he was purposely risking the Dude's safety... which doesn't seem like him, as much as I detest the man... then it sounds like it."

"I see," she said softly, the calmness of her words betraying the shock beneath the surface- the tumultuous, chewing sensation that ate at her from the inside. "So... it was probably all a lie. I thought I was doing something noble," she whispered to him, desperation tinging her voice. "I thought I had a new purpose to my life." Then... inexplicably, she laughed, and returned to his earlier question. "So have I made any conclusions? Only one. I have no idea what I'm going to do."

He winced, hating to be the bearer of bad news - a role that he had unfortunately found for himself more times than he could count since his arrival here. That, certainly, was not the purpose that he wanted.
"I'm sorry... I seem to be doing a miserable job in making you feel better, here." He gave her a lop-sided smile. "I hate to be the one to pull the sheet from your eyes, especially when I hardly know any more than the next person here. I really don't know what Moreau's be-all and end-all goal is here. All I know is that turning us in to animals seems a far cry to me to curing cancer."

He smiled to her softly. "And it's hard finding your purpose here.... I had just thought barely a year ago that I had finally found my purpose in life. That I was ready to risk it and move forward with what I wanted to do instead of what my parentes wanted me to do." He scoffed at himself and shook his head. "And look where it landed me. Maybe I should have never tried it in the first place. Now not only have I shattered my olympic-dreams, but I've also lost Angelina - never knowing closure. Not to mention transforming into a wolf. It would have been better to go to med school and broken up with Angelina - it would have saved everyone involved a lot of pain and heartache."

"...I'm sorry about Angelina. I know how important closure is. It's painful- but it's the only thing that helps you say goodbye." She recalled the picture sitting by her bed- the frame encrusted with dried out barnacles, and the glass cloudy from seawater damage.. but the same smiling face- with those same blue eyes that now stared into Ambrose's soul- shining back at her. She missed Mizzie more than anything in the world. But somehow, with that picture, shining back at her- she knew that she'd eventually be able to move on. Ambrose didn't even have that.

He nodded silently, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

"exactly.." He whispered.

He just sat there, beside her side, feeling the warmpth radiating off her.... and it felt nice.

"Thank you for talking with me, Emelyn.... I really do appreaciate it. And I apologize again for laying this burden on you.... I feel like I've been kind of unfair in that respect." He shook his head. Back home, he had gotten used to the luxury of being able to talk to Angelina.

Here, the Dude wasn't exactly a very sympathetic ear... and with Greer, things had become just a little bit awkward since she had become involved with the Dude. Was he looking too hard.... was she familiar.... or was there some sort of click? Or perhaps that was just her willingness to listen, and someone to commiserate with.

"No really- any time," she said, a smile spread warmly across her face. "It felt good to talk. And you just... know how to upset me just the right way, Ambrose Maurlias." She patted his hand and shrugged. "We may not have faith, but apparently we have... well, I don't know what we have." She laughed- very gently, "But it feels better than I thought it would." She stood finally, and sand fell from her pale body fringed with small edges of brown fur as she did.


He smiled sincerely as he rose with her, tentatively patting her on the shoulder a few times in an awkward gesture of appreaciation. "Thank you.." He said a bit wryly. "We have something." He concurred. "Maybe it doesn't matter quite what - as long as it is something." He brushed some of the sand that had clung to the fur on his bare legs. "And if you ever wish to talk more to me, well, I'm not exactly going anywhere." He smiled.

Thinking of one more thing quickly before parting, he spoke up. "Did you get the invitation to the Halloween party...?"

"Yes," she said, aware that this was the end of their conversation... and regretting it. She'd been so long without a real friend on the island- one that she didn't feel uncomfortable around, or like she was being appraised for being on "Moreau's side"... something that will undoubtedly change, she thought. "I've been working on my costume all month." She laughed, a little embarrassed. "You'd laugh. So you'll just have to find out on the day, when I get up the gumption to actually wear it. ...Are you going?"


His smile widened. "Really?" He was thankful for a pleasant turn for the end of their conversation. "I'm going as well - even if it is 'officially sanctioned', it should be a chance to enjoy myself a little bit. The last get-together we had involved alcohol and ended up in a rather amusing bout of truth or dare." He grinned. "So I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Now I feel bad" he teased. "I'm just having them order mine. But I'll leave that as a surprise as well." He commented.

He shuffled his feet in the sand. "would you like anyone to... er... walk there with?"
Why did he say that? Potentially ruin a good evening's talk. And apparently something in him was rebelling against the conscious decision that he had made to hold onto hope until he at least changed again.... but then again, he had also gotten a rather healthy shot of reality this evening....

She stopped in her tracks- for she'd already started to walk along the sandbar to the path that led to the village. His words froze her feet- and caused her eyes to fix on his. "...I can walk just fine alone," she said, carefully choosing her words. "But if you mean... a date?" She paused, as if appraising him- but really, appraising herself in the reflection of his eyes. "...Then yes." She took a step forward- her feet moved as if unbidden, and she rested one hand against his chest- it was nearly crushed there by how close they were... and she leaned up and left one soft kiss on his bottom lip- like the brush of a birds wing... and then it was gone, and she was standing back, several paces away from him. "...Goodnight Ambrose." She said simply... and turned and walked into the forest.


Ambrose's voice caught in his chest as the suspense of her reply nearly stole the wind from him. Then, slowly, too slowly, it dawned on him that not only did she realize what he was eluding (in his mind) very subtly to... but she also accepted - even after that!

His eyes lit up as her lips brushed his, his face immediatetly rushing with blood as a blush settled onto his cheeks. His fingertips raised to brush the spot where his lips were still tingling as he watched, in stunned, but happy silence as she took steps away from him. Then, as the realization of what just happened hit him, and it was good! His nub of a tail began wagging forcefully and audibly against the cloth of his shorts. "G... Goodnight to you as well... Emelyn~!" He echoed, firmly rooted into place for a good few minutes before finally returning to the village and his duplex.. on cloud nine.

It was late afternoon when Vasile came to knock on Ambrose's door. Vasile had little else to do on the island besides work out, so he looked amazing. If it weren't for the crazy gleam of stir-crazy shining in his eyes. He paced a bit in front of Ambrose's door.

Ambrose, meanwhile, had recently gotten back from Amaya's recent fencing lesson on the beach and showered off to rid himself of the sweat and the sand that regardless of how little contact he actually had with the beach, managed to somehow get into his fur, his hair, and everywhere else.

He had just settled down after dressing and was staring down the books that sat on his desk stuck determinedly under the lamp when he heard the knock at the door.

Thankful for an excuse to delay himself from going down that path, he opened the door with a curious expression. "Hi Vasile!" He smiled. "I haven't seen you about in a while. How have you been doing?"

"BORED" he said and let himself in. "Take me out, buddy, I'm begging you." Vasile plopped down on Ambrose's bed. "I'm going crazy, I swear. I need something to do. Have you seen Cass recently? Has she said anything about me?"

Ambrose couldn't help but smile in amusement as he strolled into his room. Surprisingly, Vasile was a virtual breath of fresh air in response to everything else that had been happening recently. Especially considerin that, after looking him over to confirm it, Vasile was still furless (or featherless or scaleless).

That was until he asked the loaded question. Given that Vasile hadn't barged in with bad news, Ambrose presumed that Vasile was still in his state of denial. "Ermm..." Ambrose hesitated, thinking back to his encounter with Cassidy that afternoon. "I hadn't seen her sice the party on the beach... until earlier this afternoon. And... uhm... honestly I think she had a few other things on her mind..." Ambrose put it delicatedly, scratching the back of his head as he closed the door behind Vasile.

Vasile looked stunned. "She didn't say anything?" He looked comptemplative. "Well damn. I was trying to give her her space. Guess that didn't work. Maybe I should go see her?"

Ambrose put a hand on Vasile's shoulder to hold him back. "That.... may not be the best idea right now..." He winced. "Honestly, I don't know what she's feeling as far as you're concerned... but she's had other... biiig.... issues come up." Ambrose fidgeted, knowing that this might very well lead to probing questions.

Vasile sighed. "Like what?"

Ambrose winced. He knew that that question was going to follow. For Vasile's sanity, he didn't want to tell him, but for the sake of their frienship which had already hit a few rocks, he didn't want to lie either.

"I... well.. I think the Island's starting to get to her. She's really not enjoying herself here... nothing to do with you. More... mroe like the staff." Ambrose answered truthfully.

"Well... maybe I could help, ya know? Take her out.. do something special for her? C'mon man, she's still a red-blooded woman. No one can be that icey." He ran a hand through his hair.

Ambrose bit back on the question floating through his head as to whether or not she would still technically qualify as a 'red blooded woman' and the pun about iciness and cold-bloodness on the sake of both discretion and politeness.

"Maybe..." Ambrose started. "She might need a little bit of space for a few days, though, at least." How to help him - he really did think that Vasile and Cassidy could be good together... and still felt guilty about the whole Timothy thing... "But I bet you anything she won't miss out on the Halloween dance." Ambrose smiled.

"Yeah, you've said that before," he mumbled. "How m uch space does she need. I haven't talked ot her in what seems like forever. And wouldn't that make me look uncaring?"

Ambrose paused on this thought. "I'm not sure..." He admitted. "I do think that you shouldn't lose track of her." He smiled. "I really can tell that you care about her." He gave Vasile a wry smile, as if this were some sort of secret.

"Maybe try to get her over the intercom? Talk with her first?"

Vasile looked like someone had hit him upside the head with a bag of bricks at Ambrose's statement. He tried to think of something to say, but it just came out, "Huh?"

Ambrose looked over to him in surprise. "What? I mean... you DO like her, right? I mean, you say that you've never been in love or anything like that before, but she certainly appears to be monopolizing your thoughts." He smiled.

Vasile scratched the back of her head. "Yeah, I like her," Vasile said, looking a bit uncomfortable. "But I don't... ya know, I mean. I don't really know her that well..."

Ambrose shrugged, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and gesturing to the chair for Vasile. "Well, you've spoken with her at least as much as I have, I believe." Ambrose commented. "You said you seemed to hit it off pretty well?"

"Yeah, I suppose," Vasile said, taking a seat. "You know its weird. There's like.. no pressure, right? I mean, I don't have to worry about talking to her and then our picture showing up on the cover of PEOPLE magazine with some headline like "DiRossi Going Hometown" or some s**t like that. But on the other hand.. I feel like there's more pressuire on me...because she honestly doesn't care that I've been on the cover of PEOPLE Magazine at all, ya know?"

Ambrose nodded slowly. "Not that I have ever personally had the problem of being in the eye of the nation... but I can see what you mean. Here you're alone..." He let that linger on the air for just a moment before continuing. "It's just us out here - no press, no phones, no nothing. No one telling you what you should do."

"I guess so. You know. On one hand its liberating. But on the other... I'm scared to death. I mean, I've never really -had- a problem getting a girl before."

Ambrose gave a small smile. "welcome to the real word, Mr. DiRossi." He chuckled. "But seroiusly - I think it should be good. Who do you want a girl to go out with, YOU, or your name?"

"Of course I'd rather them go out for me," he said, looking almost like he was pouting. "But Cass doesn't seem interested in me. Or my name. I don't get it."

Ambrose shrugged. "Wellllll...." He pondered on this. "Have you really discussed this wtih her? I mean, other than at the beach party? Maybe it's not that she isn't interested in you - maybe she's just having a hard time believing that a real movie star is truly interested in HER."

"I guess I thought I was being kind of.. obvious," he said. "I mean, anytime I get close to her, she freezes up."

Ambrose thought on this. "Maybe you're moving too fast? You say you don't know her too well. Try getting to know her first? Be her friend. Maybe she hasn't had that much experience with men before."

Vasile seemed to actually turn a bit red as a certain thought entered his mind, but he quickly shook it off. "I mean, I haven't tried to kiss her or anything. Just... show her she doesn't repulse me. Isn't that what I was suppose to do?"

"Well, you said that she shies away from you... which means you're being touchy. Which isn't bad! But sometimes if a girl isn't, well, that comfrotable with the whole dating thing in general, you have to move slower. If you're grabby they might think that you want to get them into bed. So just talk to her - listen to her, and be friendly. Don't make it look like you're not interested, but sometimes they don't want your arm around them just yet."

Vasile shrugged, not really understanding. "Yeah I guess so," he said, slumping his shoulders a bit. "I'm surpised I even...care so much. To be honest...s'not like me."

Ambrose quirked an eyebrow. "It's not like you? Maybe, it's not like the you that is in the limelight and is used to girls throwing themselves at him."

"I guess..." Vasile picked at the the arm of the chair. "I mean.. I'm not really as bad as the tabloids would want you to believe. I mean.." He hesitated, but shrugged. "I don't take advantage of women. Its just I treat them the way they want to be treated. When you have girls throwing themselves at you, I don't really see what I'm hurting? Ya know?"

Ambrose held up his hands. "I never said you were. Hell, I don't exactly read tabloids, despite what the tabloids would like to have you believe that every red-blooded American does. I'm just saying that here, away from the glitz and glamour of Hollywood you're maybe exploring aspects of yourself that you didn't have the opportunity to do so before. Hell, as odd as this Island is, it is more normal than Hollywood."

"But Hollywood is normal for me." Vasile leaned back in the chair, brooding. "I don't like not knowing what to do."

" can't help you there." He sighed, a small smile on the corner of his mouth. "Well, I mean I could tell you what to do, but I don't think you'd take too kindly to that."

Vasile just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, you know what I mean." He shrugged.

"So...what have you been up to?"

Ambrose chuckled. "Doing a lot of thinking honestly... which can be dangerous here... or depressing... And... well... I got to know a woman named Emelyn a bit better.." A small blush rose on his cheeks.

Vasile leaned forward, digging for more. "Oh yeah?"

"Well!" Ambrose leand back, a bit defensively out of embarrassment. "I mean, I dont' even know what to think, really. I mean, I just finished telling myself I'm not over Angelina, that I'm not going to give up hope on never seeing her again... And out of left field... I get to talking with Emelyn about everything.. and she gives me this big reality check... except with her it seems gentle... despite the bluntness.... and... we talk... and next thing I know I'm asking her if she wants me to walk her to the Halloween party... and then it's a date and she gives me a kiss..." Ambrose speaks quickly, his face reddening as he continues.

Vasile glanced over at the happy couple staring back at him from a frame on the dresser. "Reality check, eh?" He stood and walked over, picking the picture up. "So thats it for her, huh?" He felt sad for some reason, looking at how happy they looked. If Ambrose could toss love aside so easily - out of anyone - that didn't really give him much desire to pursue it for himself.

Ambrose's face paled as his eye was drawn to the picture on the bedside table. "No..." He whispered, scared. "I ... I don't know what's going on with me and Emelyn..." Ambrose said, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. "I DO love Angelina... very much so..." He felt miserable all over again, suddenly wrested down from his positive mood. "I just hurts so badly, Vasile.... and... I know you don't like to think about it... hell, I don't either, and htat's part of the problem - but I don't think I'm ever leaving this damned island... even if I don't change any more." He felt a cold chill go down his spine, setting his fur on edge. He shook it off and continued. "And that had been my hopeline... but the more I see and the longer I'm hear the more I realize that that is more denial than anything solid."

Vasile set the picture down, suddenly sorry he said anything. "I guess... I don't know. Its hard for me to wrap my mind around... that situation."

Ambrose's eyes hadn't left the picture. "I know." He said quietly. "And I hate to be a downer, but it will hit you sometime." And probably soon considering how long you've been here.... I'm surprised you haven't changed yet.

Vasile just shrugged and sat back back down. "Wanna go grab a drink?"

Ambrose didn't even have to think about that very hard at all. "That sounds wonderful." He said, getting to his feet. "I fear this Island is going to turn me into an alcoholic." He said half-jokingly.

Vasile: Post transformation

Several hours later, Vasile slowly began to stir. His new tail still was throbbing, and his ears felt stretched and tender. The way the bed sheet rubbed on the fur trailing down from his belly-button made his stomach itch. He slowly rolled over, grimacing at the feel of his tail pressed under him, and slowly blinked and wiped the hair out of his eyes.

Ambrose had managed to fall back asleep sitting in the chair by the bed, his feet propped up on the edge of the mattress. His hands were in his lap, and his head was lolling to the side.

There was a large tray of food sitting nearby on the bedside table, laden primarily with various types of meats, with a few rolls and eggs as well - no telling how long it had been there, but it still smelled good.

Vasile felt his stomach growl as the smell of the food entered his nostrils. Frowning upon see his hands - now complete with thick points at the end of the nails, he reached over and took a roll and a few chicken nuggets. His gums felt sore as he chewed, feeling his new, longer canine teeth rubbing on the inside of his lips. He looked over at Ambrose, not wanting to wake him up, but not wanting to be alone. He nudged him gently, seeing if he stirred.

Ambrose's brow furrowed as he moved a bit and made a noise, slowly consciousness returning to him as he groaned, remembering what had happened, his eyes opening hesitantly to confirm his memory.

"How are you doing...?" Ambrose asked gently.

Vasile shrugged, not really knowing how to respond. "Hungry," he settled for, and scooted closer to the tray of food. He looked sullen, his mind racing in a thousands directions, trying to think of something to say.

Ambrose nodded, removing his feet from the bed and leaning forward, snagging a piece of bacon from the tray and chewing on it thoughtfully himself.

"And sore, I would imagine." He commented. "I was at least.... and in some regards, you've been through more than even I went through.." He said, eyeing the length of Vasile's tail.

Vasile reluctantly looked behind him, having avoided it until now. He blinked, and turned pale. Morbid curiosity forced him to get up and pad over to Ambrose's mirror. He licked his lips nervously, looking over himself head-to-toe from the first time. He was already shirtless, and he kicked off his shoes. His feet were topped in silver fur, and had the same blunt claws tipped at the end of the toenails. He eyes his feet for several moments, then raised his eyes to the mirror. Face-to-face with his own reflection, the first thing he noticed was his hair. It was now considerably longer, and wavier than it had yet to be. But his eyes widened and he strepped nose-close to the mirror, examining the roots of his hair. "WHAT THE ********?!" he exclaimed, pulling out several strands and holding them up to his vision. "GREY HAIRS?"

Ambrose swallowed and shook his head in bewilderment as to why Vasile's hair might be changing colors. "Maybe... because of the fur.." He commented.

He slowly followed after him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's okay... .most of the rest of the islanders have changed now as well.... no one is going to think you're strange... at least everyone I have met at least knows what's going on now." he said quietly.

Vasile glanced over to Ambrose as he came over and put his hand on him. He tried to force a thankful smile, then went back to observing himself in the mirror. There was a thick pelt forming from the mantle of his shoulders that ran down the base of his spine until it connected at the tail. "What...what do you think I'm...?"

Ambrose looked him over again. Mammalian... bushy tail... gray... carnivorous - or at least omnivorous. "I... I don't know that well.... well, hrmm" Ambrose paused, thinking about some of the information that he had been looking at in the wild canines book before he had banished it to beneath the lamp. "Just a moment"

Ambrose headed over to the desk and pulled out the large book that was full of big, glossy images, flipping through it until he got to the fox section - and a particular specimin of a gray fox. "A... fox, maybe? You're a mammal, probably a carnivore with those teeth... and a big fluffy silver tail." Ambrose tried to think logically about it, maybe it would help Vasile to cling to the facts.

Vasile's tongue darted out and wet his chapping lips. "A .. a fox..." he tried to keep his mind focused on this fact first, before wading into how this was possible, why he was brought here, or if he's ever seen anyone he knew ever again. "I guess... maybe..." he took the took and paced back and forth a few times, studying the glossy photos. "That's... that's not to bad... right?"

Ambrose shook his head. "I don't think that's bad at all. Especially compared to the fate of some of the other islanders. I mean, I don't see you being too happy about being a sealion... or a skunk.." Ambrose smiled. "I consider myself pretty lucky as well, all things considered."

Vasile just nodded and closed the book, handing it back to Amrbrose with unsteady hands. "Why am I here...?"

Confusion answered Vasile's question. "Why?" He shook his head. "What do you mean? Er... I mean the doctor pulled us all here via various excuses... people he thought he could 'disappear' essentially.. or would make good subjects." He looked at Vasile and thought about this. Why DID he choose a movie star? .... And why had no one come looking for him yet. "But for you... I mean... I don't know. I don't think the doctor would have brought you here unless he knew he could get away with it. As much as I wish that helicopters would show up here searching for you and rescue us all..."

"But the script... this was a set-up... someone like me doesn't just... dissapear. I mean... people will come looking for me, right? THey have to! I have... jobs booked up for the next two years!"

Ambrose sat down to think on this. He nodded, remembering the script. "Not just that... btu the way the script was worded -I mean DAMN, someone really did their research to keep you in the dark for as long as they could. Even to the point of "people are trying to convince you that it's all real" being a part of the movie plot." He shook his head. "And I have olympic training that I was doing. This was supposed to be just a two week 'vacation' of a study. Now I've been here over two months. Vasile. I really, really hate to break it to you, but unless something unforseen happens, we're stuck here. For good." He swallowed, looking rather distraught himself.

Vasile sank down on the bed, looking away as a tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it away quickly, but never before had the suave movie start looked so much like a scared little boy. "Why would they do that? To people with families.. and futures...?"

Ambrose felt really bad for the guy, hating Moreau all the more as he put an arm around him. "I don't know" he said quietly. "I wish that they would have the decency to do more research on who they're brining here before they ruined more lives." Ambrose winced. "There are some people here who don't mind it that much - Lauren... Colche... and a few others... I don't see why they not only are keeping us here, doing THIS to us.... but taking people that have lives, goals... dreams... People they love... all back home."

Vasile ran shaking hands through his hair and leaned into Amrbose's touch a bit. Though he wouldn't admit it, having a friend there to comfort him made all a bit easier to take in. "you... they really did take you away.. from her...Angelina, was it?"

Ambrose felt a lump forming in his throat, his eyes stinging a bit. Tring to swallow the lump down before it emerged, he nodded. "...yes... Yes... the bastards did..."

Vasile blinked back more tears of his own and just sat there in silence. "What...what do I do now?"

Ambrose shook his head. "That's what we're all trying to figure out. Find something to hang on to. Survive. Try to see a silver lining?" He sighed. "If you figure it out, let me know. Greer's building a butterfly house." He gave a bitter smile.

"Build a buttefly house? You're serious?" Vasile felt his cheek sting from anger, but he knew it wasn't Ambrose's fault. It was Moreau he should be mad at. He took a calming breath and rubbed his temples.

Ambrose shook his head. "We've been here months with the realization of what's happening to us. We've tried railing against the staff. We've talked of escape plans, but nothing has bourne fruit. Moreau's got the funds of a small government and I am willing to bet invested a great deal in security. There are cameras everywhere. And, to make things worse, even if we DID somehow manage to esacpe, it's likely that our cells will mutate and become cancerous because of the what he's done to us unless he finishes his damnedable experiment and our transformations are complete. Because they're not yet." Ambrose stared at the floor bitterly, a curl on his lips.

Vasile sneered. "I can afford the best ******** doctors on the planet. I'm s ure they could fix whatever the hell happened to us."

"Fix us?!" Ambrose asked incredulously. "We're not injured. We're not sick - he's rewriting our ******** DNA. No one has ever done anything LIKE this before - not even with animals - or we would have heard of it! It would take years to figure out what he's even done well enough to try to help us, by which point it might very well be too late."

Vasile stood up defensively, crossing his arms. "I don't care if he ******** Einstein - he didn't do all this on his damn own. Medical science is ALL abuot building off of other's work. Did you ever think about that? No other crazed scientist has DONE this before because its ILLEGAL. Doesn't mean doctors couldn't look at us and find a way to at least stop it from getting worse. Its easier to find a question when you have the answer."

Vasile paced a few times, just spouting anything that was coming to mind. "And if they couldn't they would sure as hell do eveyrthing they could. I'd rather die out there with them TRYING."

Ambrose shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't want to die. But he also didn't want to be a wolf. "I don't know. I'm not sure if I'd be willing to risk my life on doctors being able to reverse engineering this. I mean, we can treat cancer, but if our whole body starts to shut down.... breaking apart at the cellular level... I don't think people can exactly fix that. And belive me... I want to go home - I want to see Angelina again, tell her I'm not dead. Tell her I love her. But I don't want to die."

Vasile chewed on his bottom lip. "I think I'd rather take the risk. Than be stuck never knowing what could have happened had he tried."

Ambrose pondered on this. "Maybe we should talk to Matthew... I think he's some sort of scientist. Maybe he'd know what people know back home. If it would even be possible." he shuddered. "I don't know.... I agree with you - and the hope. My biggest hope for the longest time was that it physically wouldn't be possible to change us more than he already has. I mean, I'm with you in this seeming like a badly scripted sci-fi movie. People can't turn into animals. DNA can't change you THIS much when you're already grown, right? But..." he took a breath. "Then I saw some of the other islanders... change again..."

Vasile shrugged. "Are they changing us... all the way? I mean.. TO animals?"

Ambrose swallowed. "No one knows... exactly how far they're changing us. Aubrey has said that they think that we'll still be able to speak... still have hands... but they're not sure. Maybe we'll still stand up, be human-sized... I don't see us being able to gain or lose that much mass.... but then again, I didn't see us growing tails either. Well, maybe gaining mass would be possible, but not losing, right?"

Vasile was just kind of gawking at Ambrose, not really listening to what he was saying, or having the ability to understand it at the moment... mass and tails and DNA... what was the point of having hands if you marooned on some islands for te rest of your life anyway. Vasile finally just shook his head and turned his back. His brain felt like it just wanted to shut down.

Ambrose sighed. "I'm sorry." He picked up the plate of food, taking a bite of hot dog as he did, and then passed it to him. "here. Eat, you need it."

Vasile took a hot dog and ate it - he was indeed hungry. He went back over the plate and grabbed a few more things. "Have you.. lost your taste for certain stuff?"

Ambrose squirmed a bit nervously. "To be honest... yeah. I don't much care for most vegetables anymore. Fruit... fruit's okay, but meat appeals to me above all else, really. IT's more that than anything else. Bread and stuff is still good, but not AS good by comparison, you know?"

Vasile carefully chewed things over in his mouth, and focused on what foods sounded appetising. To be honest, fruits and veggies - at least cooked, didn't seem unappealing to him. At least by memory. The bread and cheese and meat all tasted fine. But it was an interesting thought.

Picking up the silverware, Ambrose cut a slice of the steak for himself. "we can go to the actual cafeteria if you like. They have a much broader seleection."

Vasile just shrugged. "Maybe later." He glanced to the door and frowned. No way he wanted people to see him like this.

Ambrose nodded. "I understand. But remember, no one here is going to hold this against you. Not that I know of at least."

"I feel like a fool," he admitted.

Ambrose frowned. "I don't blame you. Hell, if I was in your position, I'd want to believe anything possible other than what was actually going on. It would have been much easier to deal with. Besides, the story they fed you was actually plausible."

The sneer came back to Vasile's lips. "Those bastards.." he mumbled. He peered out the window, staying close to the curtains incase someone came by. "I can't face her now."

"her...?" Ambrose paused for a moment before it clicked. "You mean Cassidy? Why? She's going through the same thing. Hell, she's having an even harder time..." Ambrose swallowed, thinking about the last time he saw her.

"But that one time we fought was because.. .my god, no wonder she thinks I'm an idiot..."

A frown tugged at his mouth. "Well.... now you know at least, that you like her for the real her, right? And you can tell her that."

Vasile frowned himself as an unsettling thought came over him. He looked down at his hands and sighed. "A snake? Really..?"

Ambrose nodded. "So we figure... except... ah... recent developments have been rather... odd." Ambrose looked off to the window, feeling uncomfortable. Should he tell him? He believed it all now at least.

Vasile's mind didn't seem to get that far. He swallowed, trying to comprehend that those scales over her body were... real

Ambrose looked over to him, concerned. "Is... everything alright?"

"I don't know," he said honestly.

"What's going through your mind...?" Ambrose asked hesitantly.

"I just.... I mean.. those scales.. you're fur... they're all... ..real."

Ambrose nodded slowly, taking in a breath. It really was a lot to take in when you thought about it. He looked at the fur growing over his legs, running his hand along it, feeling it. And it would only get worse....
"Yes..." Ambrose responded finally. "It is. Fur, scales, tails...." he shook his head. "even vocal capabilities for some of us."

"Vocal capacities?" He looked scared for a moment. "We won't be able to ..talk?"

Ambrose looked over, alarmed. "Nono! That's not what I meant.... I hope!" Ambrose looked scared for a moment, thinking about his own growling and howling... and only after his first change. "I mean... I can growl...." he winced. "And howl. But I mean, I can talk too!"

"Oh...."

Ambrose scratched at his arm again. "is there anything else... you want to know? That I can do..?"

Vasile sighed. "I... I don't know."

Ambrose nodded, mind seeking a change in topic. "So... how's Brutus doing...?"

Vasile shrugged. "Afraid to go outside thanks to that Red Devil."

"Red Devil... Oh! You mean Captain Morgan? " Ambrose winced. "I'm sorry about that."

"I guess. Its not your fault."

"Well... I do think, anyway, that you should talk to Cassidy. At the very least, there are the intercoms. Come to the halloween part with us next week. It's not much... but it's something. We can't just lie here and rot for the rest of our lives."

Vasile nodded. "I suppose so. I.. I guess I do owe her an apology."

Ambrose nodded. "She'll appreaciate that. And... maybe that's one reason that she's been cold?"

"We can hope..." he said, forcing a smile.

Ambrose nodded, patting him on the back. "There you go. And we're all here for eachother. We'll make it through. Really." He forced the smile.

"Thanks" he said, his smile a bit more genuine. "Thank you for.. you know. Being here for me and all that..."

Ambrose nodded. "Of course. what are friends for?" he gave a small chuckle. "Welcome to the club." He said wiht a note of sarcasm, gesturing to their mutual fur.

Vasile gave a snort and nodded back at him. "Talk about exclusive."

Ambrose actually laughed at that. "No kidding."

The Halloween Party
What a night! LOTS happened, but don't take MY word for it:
http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=1518268

Recap:

• Ambrose took Emelyn to the party, she dressed most sexily as a Playboy Hedgehog
  
• Ambrose met up with the Dude and Greer, and had a dance/friendly chat with Greer
  
• Vasile also arrives, and pulls Ambrose aside, giving him a condom, "just in case". Ambrose is MOST embarrassed, but ends up taking it as he knows he's here for quite some time....
  
• Ambrose shows Colche how to use the music selector
  
• Moreau shows up, and the s**t hits the fan. Dude decks Moreau, The Dude speaks a vocal command, putting the Dude under! Aubrey disregards a direct order and they help get the Dude back to his duplex.
  

It was morning, and all that remained of Emelyn's Halloween costume was a pile of black material and torn tights on the floor of her duplex. This morning, she was back in her jeans, work boots, and a large floppy shirt with the sleeves rolled up to allow her arms the joy of some island air. ...The village was quiet, as it had been all morning. Emelyn didn't know if the denizens were recuperating from the Halloween party... or from the terrible realization of Moreau's power.

She'd been writing all morning- but something about enduring such a doldrum of dead quiet after the previous evening of companionship caused her to crave some company other than her own thoughts. So when brunch rolled around, she made her way to Ambrose's duplex.

"Ambrose?" She asked the door, knocking on it with a soft force of her knuckles. "Are you home?"

"Oh, you poor thing." ...You poor bedraggled thing, she thought, additionally, still hanging in the doorway. "Are you sure you want company right now? Is there anything I can do? I didn't mean to wake you up."

She beamed, and accepted both the invitation into the room and the seat in the offered chair.

"I know- everything went so fast, I didn't get to see as much of you as I would have wanted, either."

If Ambrose didn't look like he was experiencing the worst hangover of his life, Em would have brought up what had happened at the end of the evening- and the terrible meaning behind it... but instead, her focus was just to not feel any better.

"Could I get you anything? Like... a glass of water? How are you feeling?"