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 Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 8:20 pm
Would he really....? Awen sat back down in her chair with a large sigh. "Alright, but I really mean I should be back in the water soonish. My biggest problem isn't itchy skin anymore after all...."
She gave the man another short glare before settling into a more pensive mode of thought. She was trying to word something from her mind that really she didn't want to upset him with. Treading on eggshells she couldn't just be blunt.
"I... well..." She spat out an exhale and shook her head. "I'm just... sick and tired of hearing about everyone's relationships." The manta girl rolled her shoulders self consciously. "I mean, mainland was bad enough, but with the limited populace of the island... not to mention the limited number of people who... well... I've been called a friend on so many occasions, and refered to as a sister a couple of times. I only know a few guys fairly well on the island, and now they've either..." She paused and was going to bring up the past events with Jamal but decided against it. "...gone insane, just want to be friends, or are bloody taken. I mean it's bad enough that I can never go to university, get a job and do something with my life, but on top of everything I just don't want to be alone!" Her eyes welled up unexpectidly as she realised she had crushed any eggs that had been under her fins. "I'm sick of hearing about other happy couples or about who is bloody doing who these days, I mean sure I try to see the bright side of things on the island but what does that get me? Enemies and 'just friends'. I know it's a stupid thing to worry about.... I'm young and have years left in me and whatnot... but I'm just afraid... because the island is so small... because I can't breathe air for much longer than two hours, I've clocked it, because I'm...well look at me Richard... I'm a fish... I smell like a fish... and just. Bah!" She laughed a little weakly. "Never mind. I'm just being self conscious and dumb. I've got legs, I can breathe under water, and I've kept more human looks than a couple other gals I can name. So, I'm lucky. I shouldn't be thinking I'm not...."
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Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 8:49 pm
Richard almost regretted pushing the issue but hopefully a good vent would help. It had been a long time since he had have to worry about that particular issue. Fear of being alone was one he had conquered long ago. Out of the people he was friendly with the only one that came to mind was Tommy that was male and single. With him not being to even swim a relationship didn't seem likely.
Richard looked sympathetic, "Hey, try not to think about that too much. If you look to hard you'll miss it. I'm sure there will be new people here." Although he really wished that would be turn it didn't look like the Moreau kidnaping machine was going to be stopping anytime soon. Although it did appear to be in a lull lately. "Besides this won't last forever." That last bit was quieter than the rest.
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Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 9:18 pm
The manta laughed at herself and shook her head. "I know Richard, I know. And curse me for laying all of that on you really." She wiped a stray tear from her eye before just shaking her head yet again. "It's just a passing thing, I normally don't dwell on it. Just with... the whole Jamal thing, and I haven't talked to Sabin in forever so.. the crush I had is fading and I'm trying to think realistic here, and a few of the newer islanders have recently said how they've already found someone yadda yadda.... It's just gotten to me. It'll pass, I mean, it's not that big of a deal to be honest. Time fixes all they say. I don't really look very hard, I'm mostly alone in the lake to be honest, but that I suppose is one of the problems." With a slight wave of her hand the manta cut herself off before going down that road right now. "Anyway, just think of this as a little insecure rant of youth. You don't have to worry about it, eh pops?"
She leaned in a little bit and raised an eyebrow dropping her voice low. "But what do you mean this won't last forever...?"
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Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 9:27 pm
"Ah youth," He smiled but there was calculating look in his eye. There had to be some one compatible with Awen on the island. Maybe he could play matchmaker. That might be fun. He chuckled to himself but gave no indication why.
To her second question he just shook his head and rolled his eyes toward where he had found a camera in the ceiling. He didn't want to say anymore about his own hope and ideas this close the cameras.
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Posted: Wed Feb 07, 2007 9:51 pm
Sighing as though she didn't get the gesture Awen sat back. "Fine, old man, I know I know I'm an impatient young whipper snapper and all this will fade away into the years. Jargon the lot of it, but I'll trust you this time."
Standing up again Awen started for the door but paused as she got to Richard in his chair. She smiled and bent down to give the man a hug. "Thanks..." She said softly before adding quieter still. "But you'll have to explain the thing some other time."
Letting go of the older man Awen smiled. "I'll see you some other time. We really shouldn't stay away as often as we do. I'll try to write something for you on aquatic life sometime for the next letter. Hah, no promises though I'm not much of a writer...."
Turning once more to the door Awen opened it and stepped out into the sunlight. Squinting the girl took a laboured breath. "Damn... cutting it close..."
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Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2007 5:21 pm
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Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2007 5:24 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 6:41 am
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Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 6:42 am
Hangovers and History
Richard is patient and understanding for once
When morning came again, Newt still lay huddled in a tight, froggy ball in the middle of the upside down mattress on the ground outside his and Cody's conjoined duplex. His gallivanting with Liamh had left him stinking of various alcoholic beverages and fruity drinks, and perhaps it was for the best his head hadn't found consciousness yet. There was a pile of bug-dappled sick off to the side in the grass, and his sack of belongings had caught a gust of wind during the night, sending his letters to his father scattered about the lawn. He still wore the faded, muddy swim trunks, his green and yellow stripes across his back standing out obviously against the stained mattress.
With pain from the tussle with finally on the edge of disappearing and a daily dose of the incurably positive Colche Richard was in a far better mood than he had been. The newsletter had finally been started and was progressing well so Richard was feeling accomplished this morning. The daily lesson had just ended and he was en route to the cafe for a bite of something before his noonday nap. That was when noticed some papers spread near the duplexes, the envelopes swaying back and forth in the wind. Curious he picked one up.
Hrrm C. Filinas?
Return address: Newton Filinas...
Was this from Newt? The timid little frog man? He was sorely tempted to open the letter and read it but glanced around before doing so. He spied Newt passed out form 50 feet away. Finding this very odd, he ambled over for a closer look.
Newt didn't move, murmuring softly under his breath as he gave a ribbiting snore that ended in a whimper. He didn't even notice the cat creature as he made his way closer, which was peculiar considering how jumpy the frog man was, both literally and figuratively. The letters concentrated around the oddly tossed mattress.
Richard looked down at the sleeping frog man, barely aware that he pocketed the letter he picked up. Remembering how the ex-janitor had catapulted himself into a wall the first time they met, which later he had felt guilty about he poked the frog man with a sandaled foot. He should at least be moved into a duplex Richard figured.
"M's-s-sorry, Da..." Newt chirped instinctively at the prodding, arms moving to cover his large fat-necked head, "M's-s-sorry d-don't..."
Subtle poking failing Richard tried vocalization. "Hey Newt, wake up!" "NEWT!"
That indeed made the frog jump with a terrified "KrrKIT!" only to land again with a bounce on the mattress, clutching his head with a terrible pained groan.
Richard knew that particular groan and a sniff at the air confirmed it. He was looking at a hungover frog. He couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Hey there Newt. Have a wild party last night?"
"Aaaah.... h-hurts..." Newt kept his wide eyes clenched shut, his one still bruised from the guards gun barrel not too long ago, and when he opened it, it had puffed up even more. On the mends, of course, but wounds like this always got worse before they got better. The previous day was all a blur to him. He remembered Liamh and the beach bar and lots of fruity drinks he couldn't taste very well... and something about trying to eat the worm in the tequila bottle. "I... d-don't... it... aaah..." It hurt to talk. It hurt to think. Hell, it hurt to do anything. Even the scraggly hairs on his head hurt. "I... I...." There was a loud rumbling noise that evidentially had come from his round, speckled belly.
Richard grimaced a bit, he hadn't really wanted to take care of a sick frog today but the poor guy looked so pathetic. Sighing he squatted down to Newts level, his tail lashing with annoyance. "You going to need some water and to get out of the sunlight I'm guessing." He was going to need tylenol too, Richard just hoped he had taken care of the sick part last night. He'd seen what Newt ate.
"I th-think...." Newt began, swallowing thickly as his good eye cracked open, hairless brows furrowing, "I th-think I... I'm..." There was another gurgling and the frog keeled over between his knees, shoulders trembling as his body did it's best to try to rid itself of intoxicants.
s**t. Richard scrambled back at he first stuttered "I think." The last thing he needed was frog vomit on him. He gagged on the smell, "oh god.. KaHuff." Faning his nose as Newt finished dumping the contents of his stomach. He shook his head. "Newt if you can't handle your drink you shouldn't drink." He tried very hard not to look at the contents of Newts stomach on the grass.
"I... I... usually... I'm n-not... I d-don't... I'd ne-ne-never...." Newt whimpered, trembling as he finished and lay sprawled out across the mattress miserably. As the wind picked up, a letter scuttled across the grass to hit him in the shoulder and he blinked down at it with a slow, bleary sort of realization, "Ah... m-my...!"
Richard looked down at the bag that it appeared the letters had escaped from. He shrugged, not quite sure what to say. "Yup. they're all over." He gestured at the spread even as the sea breeze blew them further away.
"Aaah n-no! N-no I... th-those are m-mine!" He squeaked, scrambling to grab as many as he could before he gave a miserable groan and grabbed his head once again.
With a roll of his eyes and a suppressed chuckled Richard bent down and picked up a few letter. "Easy there Newt. Your not going to want to make any sudden movements today. He held out the couple letters he had picked up to him.
"Th-they're... th-they're im-im-important...!" Newt moaned, tears building in his eyes from the hangover-induced agony and panic as he took them and quickly pushed them back itno his sack. He swallowed, wobbling terribly as he half crawled, half hopped from the mattress to chase after the closer letters.
Richard sighed, "Alright, alright. Stay there I'll get them." He huffed and hurried off to collect the scattered letters. He should have left well enough alone, oh well.
Newt calmed down slightly, although he couldn't stop the pained weeping as he huddled back beside his sack, clutching his head. If he stay very still, maybe he wouldn't be sick again.
Richard found that his tentacles were the best way to collect the occasionally fast moving letter, not necessarily the healthiest way for the letter but definitely beat bending over. He'd wap a letter with a tentacle and then peel it off the club. He grimaced as he did so, his mouth filled with the taste of the paper. It took a about ten minutes to gather all the letters he saw or at least thought Newt could see from his position. The tentacle's had developed a definite ache by that time, they had never gotten such a work out.
Newt quieted now, hugging his sack as he watched the man hurry about. He was uneasy- this had been the same old man who had stalked him down for the fun of it, after all, or had spooked him at the construction sight. What game was he playing, suddenly being so nice. Although Newt in general wasn't quite sure what to do about people actually giving him a helping hand.
Richard returned to Newt carrying the letters, peering at them curiously, flipping through the addresses. He noted that they were all addressed to C. Filnas. As he handed them back to Newt he couldn't help but ask, "C Filnas your Dad Newt?"
The frog took them back sharply, eyes lowered as he stuffed them back into his bag, clearly looking embarrassed as he tried to wipe the remnant sick from his front with the corner of the pillowcase, "M-maybe. Wh-why? D-does it m-make any d-duh-duh-difference? He woo-woo-wouldn't have r-read th-them... even if they h-had b-been sent..." He murmured moodily.
Richard raised an eyebrow at that. Why the heck would the man have so many unsent letters anyway? Richard knew nothing about Newt's history. "You use them as a diary or something?" The curling of his tail tip betraying his curiosity.
Newt didn't answer, working to try to tie the end of the pillow case in a knot, but it was too filled with clothes and paper. He groaned again once he gave up, clutching his temples. Maybe it was for the best he couldn't remember much of his later romp with his viney pal. "S-something like that," He answered.
Richard hmpfed at that but didn't press the issue. He looked down at the mattress, then up at Newt's duplex, then back at Newt. "What you doing out here anyway with a mattress?" Richard tried to construct a scenario that included the little frog and the mattress with a wild party and failed. Leaving him some what confused.
"I'm t-t-tuh-tuh-taking it," Newt replied gruffly, keeping his head down as he put the sack down on top of it and numbly crawled around to take a hold of one side and try to drag it. It only took a foot before the hangover kicked the frog in his over bitten teeth and he huddled down again with a fresh groan.
"Not with a hang over like that your not," Richard observed wryly. "You'll need water first."
Newt's skin was feeling dry, his upper lip still burning in a ring from the martini glass, and he stopped with a pained sigh. "Wh-wh-what do y-you care?" The words left his mouth far more bitterly than he had intended, but he felt sick, was depressed and still was ill at ease with everything.
Richard was taken back by the question and shot Newt a look. He was just trying to help, sort of. "Just trying to help. You were laying there passed out in your own vomit. Its not exactly a healthy position. I was just on my way to the cafe." Richard always felt the community needed to look after one another. It just happened to be a day where he wasn't absorbed in his own problems.
"M-m-m-maybe... m-maybe I d-don't n-need help," Newt answered in a shaky but stern voice, "M-maybe I'm d-done l-listening to other p-p-p-p-people."
Richard was beginning to wonder if this was the same frog, that he had frightened my smiling at. He hadn't flinched once since waking up and there was a determination in that stuttering voice that had not been there before. He crossed his arms and studied Newt for a moment. "Done listening to other people?" Having no idea what Newt had been through recently and was baffled by the comment.
Newt shifted, rubbing his head as he felt another wave of nacious depression wash over him and he wobbled, clutching his sack tightly. He'd leave the mattress for now and come back for it later. He didn't particularly feel like talking to anyone. Liamh had been one thing. He had been drunk and.... depressed. He wouldn't admit madness. He wasn't mad, if anything he had been knocked out of his delusion that something good could ever happen to him. It was partially uplifting, but on the other hand, did not improve his mood at all.
Richard was getting hungry and if the frog was going to give him the silent treatment then it really wasn't worth his time. "Look Newt, its simple if your hung over you'll need to drink water to make the head ache go away. If you want to get it yourself be my guest." Richard gave disappointed shake of his head. Hungover people were always so grumpy. Then he started to turn back towards the cafe.
Newt sniffed, rubbing his flat nose before he gave a sore, stumbling hop after him, "N-no... no, w-wait..."
Richard stopped and turned back to Newt, eyebrows raised.
Newt stopped, hugging his sack with a miserable look, "I've n-n-never b-been... hungover b-before."
A tiny growl of irritation escaped Richard, "Well then come on, it is pretty simple, first you drink water then you eat protein and then you go back to bed." He gestured for Newt to follow him to cafeteria. Inside his head a memory stirred, him holding his wife's hair out of the toilet, goading her to drink some water and making her eggs. He squashed it mentally, that was not a route he wanted to go down
Newt kept his head down. His father had drank quite frequently, after all. Maybe this was why he had been so irritable, if he felt like this every morning. It hurt to hop, and so ultimately, the frog rocked upright to stand at his full seven feet, knees bending to cut back some of the height at least as he hugged his sack tightly and limped along after him. "Wa-wa-wa-water and p-pr-pr-puh-protein," He repeated, committing it to memory.
Arriving in the Cafe, Richard directed Newt to have a seat and grabbed a tray. He gathered up a steak for himself and then filled three glasses of water. He then heaped a plate with sausages and scrambled eggs.
Newt sat, setting his sack on the seat beside him like a child would a stuffed animal companion before he rested his chin (such as it was) on the counter top with his arms up over his head, trying to shield his poor sensitive eyes from the halagen lights.
Richard sat down across from Newt. He put two glasses of water in front of him like lining up two massive shots. He smirked a bit at the frog's shading of his eyes. "Sunglasses also help." His eyes went to the glasses, "So drink up. Have to rehydrate first."
"D-d-don't know... if they'd ha-ha-ha-have any g-glasses in... m-m-my s-size," He chuckled miserably, but ultimately unwound his arms to pick up the first glass and quickly tipped it into his wide mouth.
Richard blinked with surprise as Newt emptied the glass into his wide maw. Well thats one way. "So what made you drink that heavily in the first place?" Richard slipped the question in, genuinely curious.
Newt swallowed, feeling a little better already as he reached for the second glass. He only emptied half of it in, though, dumping the rest overtop of his balding head, "L-l-lots of th-things..." He answered distantly, unsure of how to respond, exactly.
Richard nodded at that, "I can understand that. This place can get heavy," his own eyes flashing down to his chest. "Not to mention some people are particularly infuriating." He thought about Jordan but didn't say it. He pushed the plate of eggs at Newt. "Try not to eat it too fast or it might come back."' Lifting his own knife he started at his own meal.
Newt sat quietly, staring at the plate of eggs and sausage quietly. He hadn't eaten them in a long time. He had been convinced after his first few changes that bugs would be it for him, but recently he'd braved trying other things. Fruit had gone down well enough... maybe eggs and sausage too? They weren't that different from bugs, were they? After a moment thinking, his tongue shot out to snatch up a sausage and he swallowed it immediately, whole. So much for not eating too quickly.
Richard let Newt eat in peace, to busy carving into his own rare steak to hold a conversation. His tail lashed with pleasure at his meal, it was particularly good today. He was so glad to be able to eat at normal hours again, nothing tastes as good reheated. After he had finished he looked back up at Newt. "Feeling better?"
The frog man was looking over his plate intently, as though trying to double check he hadn't forgotten anything. He smacked his lips, still feeling dehydrated, even with the water Richard had given him. "N-n-n-not es-es-especially," He grumped, although in truth he had improved at least enough to be tolerable. Somewhat. Maybe with some aspirin. He was certain he'd change his mind once he stood up again, though, and therefor remained very still.
"Thats where the sleep part comes in or at least a bit of Tylenol." Richard nodded. "You might need more water give the nature of your.... uh nature?" Richard smile sheepishly he was sure there where better ways of handling it but they weren't coming to him.
The corners of Newt's mouth twitched up into a weak sort of smile, but were quick to fall back down again as he stared at the table miserably.
Richard looked at the sullen frog, wishing he had words of wisdom but doubting generic advice would work. Shrugging he leaned back as far as he could without squishing a tentacle. "You want to tell me what happened?"
He shifted, glancing up at him and then down again. Did he want to? He didn't even know this man. What did he need Newt dumping his troubles on him, when he wasn't even sure what the gray-haired... person was even becoming. Some sort of experimental something, that was for sure. His grip on the edge of the table tightened as he continued to stare at his plate intently, until the bottled up anxiety leaked out with a, "KrrKIT!"
Richard eyebrows raised at the... ribbit? Then down again. His eyes clearly questioning, waiting. His tail swayed lazily behind him. In truth Richard was collecting information now, he didn't know what type but there was something clearly different about Newt since the last time they had met. Richard wanted to know what had happened. Not particularly because he cared for Newt as a person but more out of an abstract need to know what went on in the community. More he knew, the more in controll he felt.
Maybe it was his romp with Liamh last night that had jostled something loose that needed to be jostled. The damb had been cracked and wasn't as strong as it was before. "I.... " He didn't know where to begin. Finally, he managed, "I... I. I w-was fuh-fuh-fired." That was as good a place as any, he supposed, although it barely scratched the surface of the real issue.
"Fired? Fired from the labs? You worked in the labs?" Richard was careful to keep any accusation out of his voice, he was offering the question like a stepping stone to bridge the conversation. He face was neutral and sympathetic as the predatory features of him face allowed.
Newt shifted, eyes lifting to dart about the black structures of the ceiling cameras before he nodded. Would he get in trouble for saying? Would he get punished further? Who was this guy and why did he want to know? Was he someone like Thom, or one of the ones the labs kept a sharp eye on? A trouble maker? He didn't know many people, he was a timid man- er... frog. He was lucky for what few friends he had made, but still, as always felt like an outcast. "KrrKIT!" He added, rubbing his long toes together in a fidgeting manner under the table.
Richard saw where Newt's eyes glanced at, they were so large it was easy. The cameras. Richard nodded in return, grinning a little. "I did too about ten years ago. Some retirement plan eh?" He pointed at one of his tentacles hovering over his shoulder. "It was for Tristian, not Nicholas Moreau. Before this insanity."
"Ah... re-re-really?" Newt knew who Tristian was, but he was surprised anyone else did. No one seemed to know anything about the place they now lived in beyond what they saw or were told, which was very little. How could they expect any sort of revolution or escape if they didn't know the full extent of what they were up against? He wondered if this fact had occurred to the labs as well, but he figured not since they had given him back his letters. Or maybe this was another test. Would he give up this information or keep it safe? It might have been an over sight. It could have been an oversight. Newt knew what he had written there, though. His hand subconsciously moved to pull the sack over so he could hug it as though simply upset and needing a comforting pillow. "I... er... well, I... only f-for... m-maybe a y-year before... ah... his... his s-son..." He stopped himself, fidgeting further.
Richard cocked his head to the side, realization striking that this little man had been in the labs for a very long time, most of the years he hadn't been. "Six years?" Richard whispered between them. If he recalled correctly Nicolas had been in control the last five.
"S-s-s-since I wuh-wuh-was... n-nineteen. Th-they... th-they..." He floundered for a moment, eyes flinching back to the cameras again in his nervous habit and he shivered. He pulled his knees up in a much more froggish crouch, looking more comfortable hunched over, "Were ver-ver-very k-kind to me."
"Uh huh." Richard didn't look like he believed that one bit. One does not huddle in fear while saying something like that. "So what about recently?" Trying to refocus on the more recent change in Newt.
He looked down, shifting back and forth as he lifted a webbed hand to rub at his scraggly hair, "I.... I d-d-did som-som-something... re-re-really b-bad."
Richard doubted that. "Really? How bad?" His look somewhat challenging, perhaps daring Newt to go on.
But Newt knew better than to step out of his place. He kept his eyes down, swallowing thickly, "I... I h-have a p-pond I f-found now... it's r-r-re-really ver-ver-very n-nice..."
RIchard nodded, Maybe he'd learn the story, later but not here, not under their eyes. "A pond eh? Had enough of duplex liveing?"
"I.. I sup-sup-suppose so, y-yes," He replied, shifting uncomfortably, "Th-that's... th-that's why I'm t-t-t-taking the m-m-mm-mattress."
"Ooookay." Richard smiled a bit. The imagine of Newt in a bed in the middle of a swamp was somewhat amusing, his tail lashed back and forth behind him. "Maybe I'll come by sometime to talk about the old days eh?"
"M-m-maybe...." Newt replied. He didn't want the bed so much as he wanted the springs inside. There was a lot of energy that could be harnessed in a bedspring. It was a sharp hunk of strong wire as well. It could be useful if he could get them free. He had to find some rocks. He could probably tear the thing open with his screwdriver at least, and pondered where he could store the inner stuffing and fabric to keep it out of the rain. Maybe one of those old caves until he could build a storage space closer to his pond. "J-just... t-tread c-carefully," He glanced up at Richard, looking him in the eyes although it was difficult to see where he was focusing, exactly. Perhaps it was a spot three inches behind and above him.
Nodding slowly but not really sure what Newt meant by that. He'd have to be cautious. "Alright I will see you later then. Feel better." He smiled and picked up his tray. And a letter to read of course.
Newt was shaken from his thoughts by the pounding of his hangover, and was soon forced to seek the aid of Delia with an aspirin and he leaned up the mattress against his staircase to huddle in the shade underneath and sleep the rest off.
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Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 8:11 am
Jamal was the exterior redecorator
Richard checks up on Ambrose
Frustrated would be an understatement to how Ambrose was feeling. The jeep crashing into the wall of his duplex... chased by Annie... and the wreck that was now the inside of his room set the wolfman on edge. Despite all the s**t that had been happening, at least Ambrose had been able to make the environment of HIS territory home clean, organized, and to his satisfaction. It was a way to control an aspect of his life. Even with his appearance beyond salvation, it was something. Now, even that had been messed with, and Ambrose was on edge. He had even snapped at Delia when he had taken a break from picking up the room when he found that they had run out of steaks earlier in the day. He felt bad about that in retrospect... But it didn't help his mood any. And even besides everything that had been happening, Ambrose had already been feeling off recently. Not wanting to leave the duplex as often, wanting to cling to Angelina's side, and being snippy in general.
So Ambrose was growling and muttering under his breath as he continued to try to clean and reclean parts of the duplex, pick and situate things that had been knocked off the shelves, and glaring at the big, obtrusive crack in the wall. The remnants of the jeep had been removed quite quickly, but they had yet to repair all the damage that had been done to his duplex. He wished that they would hurry the ******** up, but he suspected that their low priority might have something to do with Jamal's presence, and the animosity that he had openly displayed to Ambrose... and the threat that he might return. It went without saying that Ambrose had been keeping his duplex door locked.
Richard had been wandering the village after his noonday nap. The sun was just beginning to touch the trees. On a whim he was walking down the duplex row, inspecting the duplexes of the people he knew. Some people were out, heading to towards the cafe and he said hello to a few people. How ever as he drew closer to the beginning he saw less and less activity or signs of use. Many of the older islanders had long since disappeared into the jungle or in a couple cases, disappeared all together.
When he came to the end of the row, he stopped and stared. Duplex number one, Ambrose's duplex had sustained some major damage. What on earth had done this? The baloncy supports had been smashed, there was a crack in the wall where something very large had smashed it.
Concerned and curious Richard creeped up to the wall to inspect the duplex's damage. He stared at the crack for a bit, running his claws along its length. Eventually he knocked on the door. "Ambrose?" He called through it.
His ears pricked and Ambrose turned quickly, hackles immediately raised at the knock and the voice by his door. It only took a second to place the voice, however, and he took a breath, calming himself before padding over. running a hand through his hair to attempt to smooth it somewhat, he looked reproachfully at the cleaning still remaining to be done. He had been working on it since the day before when the damage had occurred, and it really wasn't that bad any more, but Ambrose had been obsessing, and in his mind, the room was still a wreck.
Finally, a click could be heard as the deadbolt was undone, and the door cracked open, only really wide enough to show Ambrose's head and thick, furry frame. He was shirtless, dressed in just a pair of khaki shorts, one ear pricked forward, the other flicked back, a small tick that stemmed from his less-than-stellar mood.
"Richard." He forced a smile. It had been a while since he had seen the older man - since the Halloween party as a matter of fact. He had obviously changed again - his features (and his scent) giving off a distint feline cast.... the extra arms appeared slightly larger. He was certainly one of the stranger serums that Ambrose had seen...
Richard flashed a smile, "I noticed your home looks like its been forcablily redecorated. Are you and Angelina alright?" There was genuine concern in his voice. He wasn't able to read Ambrose's animalistic facial expression to detect the stress that he was under.
Ambrose gave a lupine huff as he glanced back inside again for a moment. "That ... is an understatement." He said with a clear note of exasperation. "But... yes... at least we're physically alright. Neither of us were inside when it happened."
"Thats a relief," His gaze passed over the mess of the front porch, frowned and should his head. "Things appear to be getting... something I suppose." He was going to say interesting but thought that might not be wise. The wolf man was clearly out of sorts. "What happened? If you don't mind me asking."
His hand ran through his hair again, and he withdrew a band from his pants, tying it back out of his face.
"Jamal happened." He growled. "Somehow... got a hold of a damn jeep. Killed another guard and crashed it into the side of my duplex." His ears were pinned back and his eyes scanned the trees in the distance before glancing back at the 'mess' inside.
"Here... why don't you come inside...?" As loathe as he was to have company inside given the state of things, it was preferable over standing and talking in the doorway.
Richard nodded at the suggestion, "Yes thank you." He followed Ambrose inside, looking around. Minus the crack in the wall it looked pretty good. "Not bad considering it was a jeep," he said more to himself. He was recalling newspaper stories where cars generally went through a wall or two when they crashed into buildings.
Ambrose nodded, scratching the side of his neck. He was antsy, and despite inviting Richard in, he felt vaguely unsettled at having him inside... in his room.
Just nerves...
"I know... I am surprised myself that it didn't go all the way through, not that I am not thankful... but then again I think that these buildings are built of pretty stern stuff. During the lockout none of us could get back inside - here or anywhere else." He paced between the bed and the desk, reshuffling some papers around.
Ambrose hadn't offered him a chair so Richard took a seat on the bed, his diseased looking tail stretching out over the surface of the sheets. As Ambrose pace both Richard's eyes and tentacles's followed him, the tip of the tail twitched.
Richard snorted, "Jamal mmmm? That makes two guards and now he's going after villagers. I can't say I'm surprised." Richard recalled that encounter with Jamal, perhaps a month or two ago.
"The lockout?" That was new, he hadn't heard of that.
Ambrose nodded, his lip curled. But it felt good to rant at someone. He glanced briefly at the strange, naked tail on his bed, and ear flicked and he looked away.
"I thought... thought that perhaps Jamal was getting better. The last I saw him was a few months ago when a group of us were drinking by a bonfire out in the jungle. That's also the last time I have forayed very far into the jungle since... well... Annie attacked the lot of us. Jamal actually helped me stand up to her and hold her back off of some of the more vulnerable islanders. He had hung out and talked, and even participated in drinking games. Then, he apparently goes batshit and kills and drives a damn jeep into the side of my duplex - and threatens my life!" Ambrose waved his hands around to emphasize his point. "What in the HELL! We perhaps never got off on the right foot since an argument we had in the cafeteria over a year ago, and we come from very different lifestyles... but I honestly do not understand why he carries hatred towards me most of the time! And then Amaya defended him." He shook his head, and eventually stopped his pacing, plopping down onto the blue chair that Gaius had left for him at Christmas.
"The lockout? You haven't...? I guess... it shouldn't really be a surprise... it happened a year ago... but it's still hard to think that so many of the people here never went through it... everything shut down for about three months. The duplexes locked, the labs locked, and to all apearences there was no power to anything, and no one could get in any of the buildings. We had to live off the land. The most changed of us were perhaps two changes in. No one knew what happened. There was a crashed helicopter... no sign of the staff.... as it turned out it was a damn setup. The helicopter crash was meant as an 'excuse' for us to think that it might be the end of things. It was a damn experiment. Some people were never quite the same after that.... Emelyn decided to live off the land for about a year after that... she only relatively recently came back to the duplexes... Some people I haven't seen since then... I... they aren't on the gravestones... so maybe they're still out there. Hargun... Greer...." He steepled his fingers, looking down at his claws. "And a lot of us had to recognize some of the animal in us to help us live. It... was difficult going... and once you bring it out, it's not like a toy that you can put back on the shelf. And... admittedly, it was frightening... showing how much we do take from the labs.
Richard listened intently to Ambrose's retelling of the event with interest. He exhaled, puffing out his cheeks after Ambrose had finished. "Damn, I knew he was crazy when I met him, he was an animal that happened to have the ability to speak. I had hoped his campaign would stay directed at the labs but now..." He shook his head.
Then a thought occurred to him. "Wait, Annie also is going after villagers? Jesus Christ." So much for heroic vigilantes.
Ambrose fidgeted with the hem of his pants. "She attacked us when we were in the jungle after Antony tried to run. And.... I had.... a very different sort of run in with her very recently." His hackles rose and he shook his head quickly.
Richard's eyes narrowed at the mention of the squirrel woman's name but he didn't comment, she'd get hers once the next newsletter was published. At the second part Richard's eyebrows shot up and he cocked his head ever so slightly to the right. The tip of the tail curled. "A different sort?"
Ambrose shook his head again. "I don't want to talk about it." He grumbled. "Suffice to say... there is very little left of the girl she once was."
Richard sighed and the tail relaxed, he wasn't about to press the wolfman about anything after such a close call, but didn't try to hide a flash of disapointment washing over his face.
"Well sounds like you've had a difficult week. Any good news? The newsletter has reached its quota for bad I think. Not that it ever pays attention to that." Richard smirked a bit, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
"You can certainly say that again." Ambrose agreed at the analysis of his week. "Good news...? Well... nothing in particular unfortunately.... still waiting on the wedding supplies from the labs... I believe that the issues up there have likely delayed things." He sighed, still fidgeting. "There certainly seems to be plenty of sources of bad news here, though. Well... I know Emerwyn is writing a play for the theater that Gaius is building... I will likely help her with that... and help coordinate some stagefighting if not try to play a role myself in the production. I have yet to read what she has of the script, however." He leaned back a bit in the chair. "I've been meaning to help Gaius with the construction since I read about it in the paper, but the man can be surprisingly difficult to track down."
"Ah so your aware the paper exists then?" Richard grins, always happy to hear that some one reads his work. "I'm beginning to think most people around here are illiterate sometimes. You know you could put in a wedding anouncement if you'd like. As for the theater thats something else I have to go help with again, haven't been back since I met Antony there." He self coniusionly rubbed his jaw when he mentioned her name. "Been busy with Colche, lately."
Ambrose nodded. "Yes.. it led me to Billy and his auditions..." Ambrose commented. "I think it's great... trying to build some semblance of community... make the best of things."
Ambrose smiled at the offer. "That would be wonderful! I don't have a date yet, however. But I can certainly let you know." His tail wagged for a moment through the specially-designed hole in the back of the chair.
Ambrose cocked his head at the gesture. He had only run into Antony a couple of times himself, but it seemed Richard had not had a very pleasant run-in. "Colche? Really! I haven't seen her... in far too long. How is she doing?"
"Ah yes, Billy's theater's, good idea. I just wish somebody else had thought of it." He failed to suppress a growl, thinking about Billy, he crossed his arms self coniously and looked away from Ambrose. He nodded at the bit about the community, "Yeah, community keeps people sane and human."
" Well let me know when you have a date. Also if you'd like to write anything for the newletter feel free to submit it. I wish it was more of a community effort." He stared at Ambrose's wagging tail, envious of the chair.
"Ah Colche's still sunny but she's not quite as well as one would hope. She broke her leg trying to bring down a boar a month or so ago. She was trying to be wild." Richard bit his lip, lightly. "Cody had his own scrap in the wilds too.
Ambrose chuckled at Richard's reaction. "Billy isn't exactly the most pleasant of individuals.... but at least he seems to be turning around and making an effort with the lot of us." He leaned back in the chair. "Our current situation nonwithstanding... there really is such a wide variety of people here... such a strange grouping to build a community... people of all walks of life, nationalities..."
He rolled his shoulders. "I was never much for writing, really. I mean, sure, I had papers for classes but..." He made a face. "It was never my intention to become a great writer."
He listened as Richard described Colche, nodding. "I'm sorry to hear that she got hurt... and Colche..? Wild..?" The mental image seemed to jar with him and he shook his head. "I'm sorry to hear that... hopefully she's doing better now."
"And all of us have a common bond of bitterness to hold us together." Richard chuckled. "Well its what we have right? Endure, at least for now." Richard tried very hard not to let his mindslip and think of what he was probably going to endure in about two weeks. A shudder run through him and his face lost some color. Regardless of the face he put on it. He was still terrified.
Recovering to talk about Colche he smiled. "Yeah both the young ones tried to live au natural. They have no structure here not parents so they're turning to they're feral inclinations. I'm trying to help Colche, we have 'class' two hours every morning but Cody is convinced that learning is boring and bad." Richard sighed.
Ambrose nodded. "At least we're not alone here.... but that is both a blessing and a curse. I wouldn't wish this life on my enemies... and yet when they do bring... people who don't fit well with the outside world, like Jamal, it makes it hell on the rest of us. But if it were not for the good people here, I do not think I would have made it through all of this sane." He glanced down at his furry feet. "Well... though I suppose sane is all relative... I like to think I am at least."
His brow creased and his ears pressed back. "That... is sad to hear... but I suppose it makes sense... I am glad that you're helping them, or at least trying to. I know Colche loves to learn, which is good. I'm sorry Cody is giving you problems. But even here... I think children should be educated."
Sanity and the peservation of it was a very sore topic for Richard, who could only manage a weak chuckle and a nod at Ambrose's comments. It was easy for him to say, he was done. Richard still had two more sanity breaking changes to go. Ambrose's acceptance was beginning to bother Richard a little bit, while he got the feeling that Ambrose didn't approve of the lab it appeared that he had given up all hope of this situation ending. Richard could accept that but he found it disconcerting.
Ah but the children was a much safer topic. "Colche is a good and most importantly eager student. Although I'd be the first to admit I wouldn't be completely upset if a qualified teacher was the next on the island. Colche's got a long way to go and I'm a reporter and was lab manager, never a teacher. I've got no clue what I'm doing. Despite the stack of books I've got." He indicates a stack about half a foot high. "Cody on the other hand needs structure or at least an authority figure. I can't make him come to school." Richard huffed, Cody frustrated him.
Ambrose nodded. "I remember her talking about a teacher once..... Josh... I think she said his name was. But I can't say I ever met the fellow myself. And if you're teaching Colche, then I assume that he isn't any longer. She said he was helping her to read, though..." He shook his head with a befuddled look.
Ambrose couldn't help but chuckle at the description of Cody. "Well, you're not his father, and he doesn't have parents here or any sort of enforcement of rules other than the same ones we all have to abide by here. Which can't be good for helping him with necessary life skills.... assuming they're even necessary here." He added bitterly. "I understand that they chose him because of his condition... but there are more negative sides to bringing someone so young here than merely sympathy that his life was just starting... I can't say that many kids really enjoy school when faced with the alternative of a neverending summer vacation... but I know that at least I had a sense of the bigger scheme of things... and wanting to make my parents proud of me..." Ambrose didn't seem to realize where his words were taking him until he ended the sentance, trailing off into an uncomfortable silence. That was a subject he tried to keep himself from dwelling on. Even after finally having that last argument and setting off on his own, Ambrose still wished to someday make his parents proud of him... coming to the island... after what had happened... His ears drooped and he looked down again with a plainly audible sigh.
At Ambrose's rant Richard's eyebrows steadily crept ever higher on his forhead. When it ended and he could ask was a lame, "Are you okay?"
"You'll see them again." Richard said it with a surprising amount of conviction. "Family runs deeper than this. You've still got your speach, its all you need." Richard had no family left, his partents were long dead and Cathy's family had been completely alienated. There was no one to recognize him, the tentacle's drooped at the thought.
Ambrose snorted skeptically. "You don't need to placate me... I know that there is probably about an equivalent chance of it snowing here as it is that I'll ever see them again. And... yes, I can't express how thankful I am that I can still speak... I can still stand and use my hands... but I am not the man I once was.." His eyes strayed over to a framed photo that sat on the bedside table. A young man with piercing blue eyes, blonde hair, and trendy clothing stood with his arms around a pretty brunette girl.
"And they could never accept me like this. Even if they believed it was me... I would be too much of an embarrassment."
"Family acceptance or not, this isn't going to last forever," His eyes drifted to the crack in the wall. "One way or another." His voice was low. "I believe that." In Richard's mind there was simply no way a madman like Moreau could keep on top of his organization forever. Sooner or later something was going to break.
"well... for all our sakes... I do hope that you are right. But forgive me if I have my doubts."
Richard gave a half defeated nod. Such a collapse wouldn't come in time to save him that was sure. "Well it was good talking to you Ambrose. Its been too long." He stood and offered his hand
Ambrose shook himself from his dark musings and rose to his feet, his hand clasping Richard's. "Yes, it has. Please don't be a stranger... and thank you for listening." Something about the older man made it easy to talk to him. Perhaps it was that there were so few other older individuals on the island and his ingrained respect for authority figures and the need to please them.
"Take care of yourself, old man." He gave him a small teasing smile, trying to end the conversation on a lighter note.
Richard chuckled and shook the hand vigorously. "Stop by sometime. Colche's usually around in the morning if you'd like to help out." Richard tried to ignore a little voice in his head that informed him that old man might not be accurate for too much longer. And if Ambrose paid carefull attention to his scent he might find some confusing things.
With that Richard headed out the door.
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Posted: Wed Feb 21, 2007 7:36 pm
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Posted: Wed Feb 21, 2007 7:37 pm
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Posted: Sat Feb 24, 2007 12:56 pm
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Posted: Sun Feb 25, 2007 6:48 am
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Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Feb 28, 2007 3:13 pm
For the past week or so, Richard's impending change has been haging over him like a looming threat. He knew it was coming, and soon, and feared what it would give - or take - from him as he took one step further into his irrevocable transformation into some bizarre feline... creature. When Richard wakes up after a horrid nightmare to a throbbing, itchy spot on the back of his arm.. he knows that his wait is over... for better, or most likely for worse. All day, Richard is sweaty, achy and feverish. And that final stretch of "wait" probably does nothing to help Richard's existing symptoms, accentuating them if nothing else. Then... without further ado... your changes begin swiftly and suddenly. Your whole body jibbles Thinly distrubuted, short fur begins growing in areas where your body hair was already naturally, and spreading over your feet and your tail. But unlike many of the island residents, the hair is very sparce and harly more than dark hair than true fur. Your feet continue to reshape, your previously underdeveloped extra arms aching and pulsing and grwoing larger... the digits separating more until they resemble fully formed, but dwarfed hands. The claws on your fingers and toes begin to move in the digits as your digits alter, the last bone bending strangely and pulling back finally giving you the retractable claws of your feline DNA. Then... your face. Even more of your human visage is pulled away as your face pushes out into more of a muzzle, the bones of your cheeks and eyebrows reshaping, becoming heavier, and distinctly more feline. Your hair darkens even more, and your eyes take on more of the luminous green... not that you're aware as other changes begin... Your form slenderizes minutely, taking on a heavy curve, the bones of your hips widening marginally... and your ... breasts becoming more feminine. And then... the changes... down below. As emasculating and horrible as the connotations are, and the sensations are FAR from pleasant, at least this time you are spared the full internal organ changes that will likely eventually occur. However, to all basic inspections, you appear to be fully female. Although for the moment, you will be spared the monthly headaches that full women experience. In effect, you're about as female as a post-op transexual. 
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