Welcome to Gaia! ::

He immediately went down to collect his two valuable possessions. Without his eyes on her, it seemed easier to talk to her. He was going to be apologizing for years on this island. The lizard tongues were getting to him.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I mean it was my fault - you didn't do anything. I'll be used to you in no time. Don't mind me."

Learn some ******** self control, he thought to himself. He could seriously use it. It always disappeared when he needed it most. That sad look in her eyes practically killed him. He knew exactly how she felt, and it was so callous of him to be reacting like he did...

He looked up again as he rose, pen and notebook in hand again, and shifted his arm to hold them against his chest.

"Yyeah... I'm new here. It's not... pleasant. I know what's going on here, I just... well... it's still a shock to see people that are..."

Oh, why didn't he shut himself up?

"Oh no, it's okay, I can get some myself." He didn't want her to trip if she got too agitated while walking on those legs. "I'll just grab some food myself. I'm really sorry to have interrupted you."

He was reminded, somehow, of disease. This whole transformation issue... a terrible epidemic on the island. It seemed sort of like leprosy. He was happy he had yet to actually touch another islander.

Zach put his things down on a tray and grabbed a hamburger almost unconsciously. Why...? He didn't like meat. Realizing he couldn't put it back, he decided to live with it. It was only once. He also took some water, at her suggestion.

He followed her to where she sat, setting his stuff down across from her. He'd just befriend as many crea- people as he could here. He didn't want to end up in another situation like he had with the first islander he encountered, Antony. That lady would kill him. He tried the questions the scaled girl wou'd be able to answer most easily.

"So what's your name? And what is it that you're... becoming?" There were so many blunter ways to phrase that question.

"Pleased to meet you, Cass. I'm Zachary." He smiled weakly.

Sabin was definitely doing an abundance of injections here, if the census Zach had was anything to go by. Sabin injected him, too, which made him wary of what kind of simpleminded choice the doctor had made for him. His mind slid away from the question of what he'd become. Again. He didn't like to think of it as an absolute. It was, but he carefully kept it from being one in his mind. It was the only way to psychologically survive.

"A python..." Snakes were creepy-looking. Her fear was justifiable, but he said nothing about that. "So your legs... were there to begin with?" Certainly seemed so. If she was becoming a snake, then it would stand to reason she'd have to look like one in every way. "God, that man is a sadist."

Feathers sounded like, if anything, an even more stressful burden for the girl. He didn't want to comment - they were beautiful feathers, but still - what the hell was Sabin thinking?? These were feathers growing right out of Cass's SKIN.

"I don't know what I'm going to be... I don't want to ask, either. I just... I can't even think about it. The whole thing seems surreal." And if anyone actually tried to tell him what he would be, he'd never believe them. I'm not going to change... I'm not going to change...

Cass suddenly shook herself. "I'm sorry. I'd nearly forgotten, after so long... the air conditioning in here really gets to me, sometimes. It's the cold-bloodedness, you know." She didn't look straight at him, rather embarassed about it. "I'll leave you to your burger."

She stood, wobbling slightly as she found her balance, and picked up her plate. "I'll see you around, maybe."

Ambrose, finally, after a truly wonderous sleep on a nice, clean bed, after a even more wonderous shower, was finally begining to feel like his old self again or... at least as closest of an approximation he could muster being half wolf.

He yawned, stretched and took his time getting up. He had no idea how long he had been out. And he didn't care. It's not like he was exaclty on a schedule.

Lazily he grabbed some of his clean clothes - a nice loose polo shirt and shorts, changed in the bathroom, and put on a pair of flipflops on his way out the door.

Even the weather seemed to be more pleasant than he could remember it being when he was out in 'the wilds.' It wasn't even technically spring yet, so in the middle of the Carribbean, it was actually pleasant.

Breathing in a deep nosefull of air - the comforting smell of the cafeteria - now open again and open whenever he so decied to get food - no hunting, no worrying about 'accidentally' sinking his elongated teeth into the uncooked flesh of a small animal.

With a whistle and a small wag on his tail, Ambrose strolled casually into the cafeteria, mentally planning what foods he would load his plate up with.

As he entered the cafeteria, he took a quick inventory of the other individuals there and nearly paused. One... someone unrecognizable and unchanged. His ears flicked back anxiously. Hopefully at least he knew. Then.... just taking a seat... Jamal.

Ambrose had no idea how upset Jamal still was at him. The last time he had made any gesture to Jamal had been Christmas, when he had left him a gift. He had heard tell of him from Antony, heard that he had changed and wasn't very pleased with it - he had even gone to the level of hurting her and Awen. He had been advised to steer clear... and so he had. But it had been weeks since then.... and Jamal didn't appear to upset just.... eating there. Maybe he was feeling better. At least to all appearances, the changes hand't been too unkind on him - he was still quite human-looking in Ambrose's opinion.

Regardless, Ambrose wasn't about to let cowardice or anxiety get between him and a meal, so striding purposely forward, he got his own tray, licked his chops with equal enthusiasm as Jamal had shown over the steaks, and speared a few for himself before heading back to the seating area, a pregnant pause as he glanced near the empty seats near the only individual he recognized.

"Jamal...?" He asked, trying to judge the man's atitude.

Jamal flopped down at the nearest table...not the same one as Zach, but more or less facing him...and picked up his silverware, casting the stranger another dubious look and snorting.

"Who da ******** are you?" he snapped bluntly as he sawed off a generous portion of steak and then jammed it into his mouth, chewing carefully to keep his elongated eyeteeth from cutting his tongue. The black man was not much into the social standard of politeness. "'Nother poor ********, ain't ya?...did ya get da shot?" Jamal gave a crackling sort of growl before tearing into another piece of steak, whiskers crinkling back as he did so. Mmm....

But it appeared his semi-decent mood wasn't meant to last, for he heard the cafeteria doors open and his gaze automatically lifted from his food and he saw Ambrose sauntering in. Oh ******** LOVELY. Jamal had privately hoped that the stint in the wilderness might have cleansed the island of the wolf man, but apparently that was wistful thinking. The acute, natural glare to Jamal's eyes sharpened and he diverted his attention back to his food. Maybe Ambrose would get his meal and leave. He focused back on his steak, eventually abandoning his silverware to picking it up in his clawed hands and tearing it off with his front teeth.

"Jamal...?"

The black man growled in the back of his throat and glanced back up to see Ambrose standing here. He stared at the wolf man for a moment, slowly moving his hand away from his maw so a piece of steak dangled from his mouth as though he forgot it was there. It hung there for a second before he threw his head back, engulfed it in one motion, and swallowed, then lifted his lips in a sneer.

"What do -you- want?"

Jamal retained his cool, narrowed glare, but he turned it away to his plate again as though Ambrose wasn't worth the trouble. He carefully dug his claws into a fresh slab of meat, doing so in a very pointed, mechanical fashion as though to send a insinuated message to the blonde man standing there by his table. Something along the lines of "Have sharp claws and know how to use them".

Ambrose's stammering brought the slightest bit of pleasure to the black man as he pulled his hand away from his plate and licked the juice from the tips of his claws. He passed the blonde a careless glance.

"How should I be doin'?" he retorted with a waspish tone. "Jus' fine 'n' ********' wonda'ful, I 'spose. Ain't dat how it 'sposed ta be?"

He snorted and speared a portion of steak on the tip of his index finger, then contemplated Ambrose's last question as juice dripped down his hand and wrist as he more or less waved the meat-laden hand about absently before his mouth. What -had- he done with that stupid present anyway?...

Oh yeah...he threw it somewhere. Not in the garbage, for some reason, but it had to be lurking in one of his massive junk piles in a corner.

"I got it," he grunted in an answer, but didn't elaborate because he didn't care to. He answered the question...what else did Ambrose want?