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Island of Moreau Vice Captain
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 Posted: Sun Oct 15, 2006 1:32 am
Emelyn, luckily for her, is unconscious from the moment she was buzzed out in the duplexes. She is not mentally privvy to the extensive testing run following her last change, the tests, and the warning flags that proceeded to crop up in the computer systems regarding her genetic stability. A similar instance had happened before that was able to be amended before it was too late with Joliette. It was for this reason that the labs had carefully monitered all of the subjects that had reached the final stage. It was the most crucial moment after all - here is when the processes was supposed to stabilize out, leave the subject physically and mentally stable in a new form; as self-reliant as they were before they came. It had been a fantastic success with all of the subjects up to this point... at least as far as stability. Some had gone further than anticipated: Cassidy and Pyroth in particular, but they were still viable subjects, still retained their intelligence. Emelyn, on the other hand, was in dire need of immediate stabilization. The process had not only not stabilized, but was starting to rapidly degenerate. The mental side effects were flashing indicators that there were deeper problems. Finally, after intensive work, and building on some earlier successes with Joli, a 'remedy' of sorts was administered. A restabilization, as it were. Her body shifted, form altering minutely, the quills setting up into thicker needles, her muzzle shifting, her skull changing shape... and through it all, Emelyn slept. The transformation also brought with it the costly gift of rapid tissue regeneration. Much of the self-inflicted damage to her cheeks and snout repaired. Then, ultimately.... the blesed stabilization. Tests checked out, and congradulations were exchanged amongst the lab techs, and Emelyn was returned to her duplex, left in her bed, and to wake up under her own devices. 
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Posted: Sun Oct 15, 2006 10:28 am
 Good MorningEmelyn awoke to a world unburdened by madness. Like most things, the nature of existance has a second, darker side- a gritty underworld where sense and reason have fallen through to cruelty and viciousness. Insanity was such an underworld- and it had tainted the hedgehog-woman's last change. Her duplex was still destroyed- the labs had gifted her by putting in place her body- her most direct 'domicile'... rather than the one she had so long forsaken. There were bloodstains in the closet, long, raking scrapes down the walls that had been drawn into the paint with her claws, and shards of glass where a mirror had previously hung. The bedding she had also ripped apart, the pillow clawed in half and tossed against the wall. It was this nest of shreds that she woke upon, spread out on her stomach with her cheek pressed to a minced sheet. She blinked herself awake, only realizing after a long moment where she was. The recall of the past few days was... fuzzy, at best- a clouded blur of memories that she half-assigned to the world of dreams. She crawled back up onto her knees, and then turned to look at the room around her. It dawned on Emelyn that the destruction was her own fault- that there must be at least some truth to the dreams that were even now slipping away from her. "Wow." It was a breathy word, spoken with a voice coarse from so long a disuse. The hedgehog woman cleared her throat, but even as she did, realized that something had been...different about the way she'd formed the word. It had come from lips that she could practically see- more motion had occured beneath her eyes than seemed possible. I must have changed.She stepped off the bed to her full length- and bent her head back to look down on herself- the soft, tawny fur, the clawed nails on the end of furred hands.. and the spines. They were, by now, old familiar friends. ...What a difference of opinion from her earlier craze. Any more would have to be left to Emelyn's imagination- she had seen the mirror in its... less than pristine shape. But, surprisingly, she did not fear what else was left. The idea of what her face would show, though she wondered with a keen sense of anxiety- there was none of the soul-sucking fear that she almost recalled... from a memory that seemed so much more a dream than reality. The island that Doctor Moreau had built was one of terror. Were a tome to be created to the nature that was the islanders and their new lives... it would be unquestionably shelved amidst its fellow horror stories. Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein- tales of vicious transformations, and of something more- or less- than human. In even the most dire setting of horror, however- there is the eyelet of possibility for some peace. Sometimes, it is the moment of calm before an even more terrible storm- of the monster of Frankenstein's creation finding some happiness on his own and with his learning before being persecuted all the more cruelly. Other times, it is merely the peace given to a vicious character at the start- the blessing of unfair happiness that is often bequeathed to a villain in a tale of woe. But once in a great while, amidst true terror... a moment of acceptance is to be had. They are rare... but without them, there would be no balance. Even in a terrible world, there must be some good. Emelyn had lived in the wild for nigh on eight months. She had done it first on principle, and then (though her original ideals were a constant underpinning- perhaps even desperately so), as an excuse to avoid everything ...she couldn't bear to face. There's really no simpler way to put it than to say her "wild life" had been her salvation... then denial... and then, her undoing. It had taken an attack, several feverish nights- and madness brought upon by raw mutation... coupled with the crippling loneliness and self-doubt she'd had in the wild- to finally seed the idea of returning into the hedgehog woman's mind. Emelyn went to the window and looked outside. As it so often was- the sun was shining- though a brisk wind had picked up some dark smudges of clouds where they hung on the horizon and was bringing them closer. She did not look over to the mountain. Somehow, the cave that she knew waited there... did not seem to be her home anymore. With a brusque look about her at the shambled assemblage... she knew the duplex wasn't that home, either. None of them were. She would have to find her place again- a footing she hoped was not so frightening as the twist of anxiety in her stomach told her it would be.
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Posted: Mon Oct 30, 2006 7:05 am
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Posted: Thu Nov 09, 2006 6:42 pm
 Halloween Horrors-----+----- Emelyn She had only begrudgingly followed the trail, traipsing along unforgiving ground, her slitted nocturnal eyes turning the red lights into four-pointed stars- the edges stretching up into the Halloween Night Sky. There was wonder in her- and fear... but a thick curiousity had settled in her stomach, not unlike a bile too curdled to be ignored. Emelyn had not been able to ignore the rats- not when they'd swarmed upon them, or the onslaught of other terrors that graced the trail. She'd never seen such ferocious beasts in her time out in the wild: even those large black river rats that could be seen slinking along the shores at night- they were nothing like these rabid creatures that seemed to have a thirst for half-human, half-animal blood. It was not a natural thirst, this she knew- but on this island, who could discount what was natural... with what was possible? She'd fought them off as best as she knew how, wishing for more than a moment that she had not long discarded her steel-toed behemoth boots: one fair kick to one of the scruffy fiends would have sent it flying through the dark underbrush. As it were, she could contend only with clawed kicks and scratches- and a fierce run down the path as she struggled to keep up with the others who were already dealing with the appearance of the ersatz Annie. Em would, thankfully, be spared from that debacle- though it would mean little to her compared to the others. She had never met the woman, and had not heard word yet of Fiona's demise. Instead, she would come into the presence of the graves well behind the others- her arms and legs peppered with red dots of blood from bites. She had been used to taking care of herself, in the wild- but a hedgehog is a defensive creature at best. She was not to remain unscathed. ...In more ways than physically. As she stepped out of the presence of the path lights, Emelyn's eyes shifted and she blinked away the red swirling clouds that lingered there, burned onto her eyes for moments more. The blue-white lights that remained added to the cacophony of color, but they were much dimmer, and the hedgehog-woman found that the subtleties of her night vision were returning- not in spades, but well enough that the hauntingly, achingly beautiful picture of death unfolded before her. A small fence- more decor than true deterrant- ringed a small but perfectly arranged collection of smooth, fine stones. On their faces, dates and names carved in an exquisite story of the macabre: this was death. And upon seeing it, Emelyn felt a chill unrelated to the cold air on her fur run a race up her spine. To imagine the depth of this effect- see yourself not with flesh that can raise in goosebumps, or even fur that can heckle up at the first sign of chilled expectancy: but instead, a menagerie of spines- over 7,000, which, upon warning of fear, can raise up into a sharp, impenetrable fortress. Emelyn stepped forward, just far enough to the fence that the names became visible, carved forever in stone that would unforgivingly live past those whose names they bore. Those around her- shouting, crying- almost unbelievably- those she could not bring herself to regard. Not when those names stared up at her. Her spines remained at level. How ironic- that a creature... so impenetrable- could be so vulnerable, and so lost. People were walking back up the path- but there Emelyn stood, her palms gripped too tightly on the low fence. "Sean." It was not to betray Fiona- whose name she also saw, and grieved for, almost instantly- that the first word out of her mouth was her long-missing friend. The word had come unbidden, and in a low, pleading tone- as if to call him would be to summon him, to bring him back to life, or to draw him away from some hiding spot amongst the graves. But when nothing but a whistle of the wind answered, she swallowed back a lump that had crawled its way into her throat. Then, the girl who believed that life was essentially fair... no matter what had happened to her- fell to her knees before the fence, gripping the slats with the futility of one imprisoned. She felt as if she were barely put together- as if the pieces of her body were ill-matched, and hashed together with a faulty glue that could barely contain her. If any were to move her, she did not wonder that she might fall apart. ...What she had felt for Sean- it hadn't been love. But it had been something. It had been... something. Now, what would it ever be? What had they all ever been... Fiona. ...Sean. ...Grandpa John. .... Mizzie. It seemed all she had left in her were no feelings... or the worst possible ones. When you feel nothing- when you can kneel at a fence in the midst of a cold Halloween midnight, without a single thought as the time stretches on, it's hard to feel your grief. In fact, it's damn near impossible. And that, in a way, is a 'feeling by omission'. And to any who have known that, it is worse than awful. It's as if you've never existed, she never existed, nothing in life matters. It's beyond depression- it's nihilism. Her hands were bloodied, and dirtied. But all she wanted to do was kneel there- and feel nothing. Miller Milano Miller turned again noticeing another girl, part of his mind was amused, dye her blue and it would be the perfect sonic. However in the light of current events that hardly mattered.
He walked over nealing beside Em frowning, "I... I don't mean to be rude... but who are these people..." He felt bad asking such things of her but no one was left really to ask, except a bunch of psychos trying to kill each other. Carefully he reached out to place a hand on her shoulder trying to comfort the strange girl. Emelyn Though the boy's words preceded the touch on her shoulder, in some strange process of her mind, Emelyn became aware of the contact before the words ever solidified as having meaning. The hedgehog woman turned her face- her muzzle apart ever so slightly as a soft pant emanated into a wispy cloud of breath on the night air- to the young man with a look of dazed, sad surprise. "Who?" The word came out low and raspy, almost completely degraded except for a gravelly vowel. Her question asked- which 'people' did he mean- those around her, whose presence she was only starting to allow feisance in her mind, or those who lay buried beyond the fence? Miller Milano Miller felt his mind shatter again, between the words of Thom and Nita, You may only have a week... the way Thom's leg was deformed, everything happening now and on top of it all the look on the Hedgehog girls face, life was a cruel joke on this island.
"Any of them... I... I want to know." He paused his stomch turning over again at the thought, "I want to know... incase it happens to me..." He pointed at the graves, "Where they... the ones in the clearing?" Emelyn "...No. I- no. I don't know many of these names. But some of them were islanders. Friends." It was hard to come up with words, and her head buzzed. Any other time, Emelyn would have rushed to comfort this newcomer- to tell them not to worry, that they would be enveloped and protected by this island 'family', and that even if he would go through his own transformations, what mattered in his humanity would remain. But right now, she was still in this nihilistic mourning for not only her friends, but for her own safety. Emelyn had no living family, and death tainting the memory of the two people she had ever been closest to. Then, she had found herself on Fate's ill fortunes, upon the shores of this Hell Island. She'd found some brief happiness with those earliest friendships, and with the fleeting joys which had followed. But Ambrose had turned her away for his true love- The Dude had chosen Greer, and then, both those dear friends had disappeared. Moreau had betrayed her, and left her in the wild to fend on her own despite all his honeyed words that she would be favored... and then she had been preyed upon by her own friends as they transformed into terrible beasts of hunger and instinct. And now- Sean too, was dead- and her long absence from the village had been unacknowledged. As she knelt in the clearing facing the graves- the only one to come upon her was a boy... seeking help. It killed her a little inside to know that she was so alone. All she was... was a candle. Lighting the way for others, while consuming herself. What a vile little thing, bitter and sad, is a martyr. Despite the meaning of their martyrdom, so few of them are useful to anyone. Too many degenerate into something dark, and sad. Miller Milano Miller frowned, so then that would explain why so many people where upset. All of the names around him, held little meaning to him self other then a warning, but to others they where worth much more.
He squeezed her shoulder gently trying to find something to comfort her knowing that he had little to offer other then a few simple words. "I'm sorry... they must have been good people. It's all wrong... everythings wrong..." His voice trailed off. He was lied too, used and soon to be left alone on an island where he would surely loose his mind. Emelyn "It seems like it... sometimes. It seems so." She answered his words- that everything was wrong. Emelyn found it difficult to summon optomism in the face of ...this. Miller Milano Miller sat down now beside Em, "They lied... they never told me what they where really testing, I could be at home right now. I could be in a collage too makeing something of my life..." He looked at the tomb stone. "And now I could end up like that..." Emelyn Emelyn blinked her eyes as if to push away tears- but there were none, and no moisture had collected there amongst her still so human eyelashes. Were she in the state to do so, she might've made a silent blessing, then, that she even still had eyelashes, and still had, if not completely human eyes, at least that color she had shared with her sister. It was the one thing they still had in common. ...If you can have anything, that is, in common with the dead. But Emelyn was not in the state to appreciate this small thanksgiving- and really, she wasn't even in a place to be able to help Miller. All she could offer him were scraps of advice- frayed bits of concern and hope that seemed to have been torn off something used... discarded. "So few of those are subjects. ...Many of us are still here. Still..." she didn't say alive, but the unspoken word hung in the night air, dangling like an insect on a long line of webbing between them in the pause that separated her words. "...I'm sorry that you're here. For your sake. But I think... I think you might be okay." She put a tentative, furred hand out to touch the boy's shoulder, but her eyes did not focus on his face. They looked beyond him- over the tombstones, and into the sky. Miller Milano Miller looked down at his hands, okay? How long would the term okay apply? He wasn't even aware of what he was to become let alone if it would even go over well.
"Well... so long as every one here isn't like that squirrle women or Sabin, then things can't be all that bad..." He remembered faintly a strange old man, Nita, and a lizard like girl all helping him, and the rather comical rat kicking dance he shared with F on the way through this hell hole. For the first time all night he almost smiled. "We should proably get back, it's late and where the only ones left here..." Emelyn A small smile which held no mirth at all turned up the edges of the line that halved her hedgehog-muzzle. "Thanks for the concern... but I think I'll be a while longer... here." The thought of moving, returning to 'the party' tightened her gut. She didn't bother to tell the boy that she was used to being out 'late'- and that she actually felt more comfortable there in the 'wild', than at the village- even with the emotional turmoil her self-imposed isolation had caused her, she still felt more at ease there than in Moreau's mock civilization. Thomas Brinley The greater majority of the group had headed back down the path towards the tent, possibly to return to the party, possibly to return to their duplexes. Thom wasn't sure, nor did he particularly care. Going back to the party would likely only have Newt clinging to him again, and, well... He had no intention of going near the duplexes again for a good long while, if ever. For the time he had lingered near the graveyard, pacing back and forth along the first few feet of the path, contemplating the messages on the graves. Complications. Complications like what? What had those islanders been turning in to? What should they expect? He had died once already, he most certainly didn't want to do so again. Complications. It could happen to any of them. How long until his next change? Maybe they wouldn't be able to find him for it if he stuck in the jungle? No, they could track him with the chip. But the ghost had said it could be removed... Miller Milano Miller's own half smile faultered at the hedgehog girls response, he didn't want to be alone on his way back, nor did he wish to stay here for the night. Still he respected her choice, she knew some of these people and that alone could justify anything she did right now. "Umm alright... I'll be here incase you need something..." he mumbled softly.
At this moment he heard somthing paceing not to far down the path. Instinct took over and Miller grabed the closest rock before sneaking over towards Thom, it wasn't till a few moments latter that he realized it was the same snake man from the party. "Jesus Thom... I thought me and her where the only ones still here..." Emelyn When Miller stood and made to leave, Emelyn dropped her head down with a sigh, and it hung there, her muzzle touching her chest and the air from her nostrils blowing a cloudy blur into the tawny fur. Her arms too- those she dropped and her hands lay on the thin material that rested on her thighs. She seemed to be deflated- and though a cold gripped her, she did not shudder. Just sighed. Thomas Brinley Lost in thought, Thom completely failed to notice Miller's approach until the younger man spoke. Jumping visably, he spun around to face Miller, relaxing once he recognized the 'normie'. "Can't sneak up on people after that hike, lad." He paused, craning his head to peek past Miller towards the woman. "...S'that Emelyn? Why 'aven't you two 'eaded back to th' tent? Everyone else left a while ago." Miller Milano Miller quickly hid the rock behind his back as Thom noticed him before finally tossing it aside, just Thom, just Thom, he wasn't a bad guy or another surprise in the woods. "Didn't mean to sneak up on you, if I had known it was you I heard I wouldn't have."Emelyn? I guess so, she showed up after everyone started to leave. She seem's to be takeing it hard, I want to go back, but I'm lost and scared half to death." He sighed, "Maybe you can convince her to come along back with us?"
He turned now waveing Thom to follow takeing his spot by Emelyn's side again, "Hey... Thom's here too, every one's gone. But it's not safe to be out here like this." He wasn't completly asking Em to come with him for her own good, part of it was for him self. To know that he wasn't alone and that just maybe, he would get out of this whole nightmare okay. Emelyn Emelyn huffed another breath through her nostrils. They were moistening to the chilled night air- tensing in preparation for what might be a keen time for foraging. "I'm fine on my own." It was not easy to annoy the woman- but in a way, she was- though the emotion registered deep beneath sadness, and her voice cracked in the middle. It was as if she meant more by her words than simply tonight. Thomas Brinley He followed Miller towards the hedgehog woman, but, upon hearing Emelyn's words, stepped past the teen, waving him back towards the path. "Give 'er a minute. Follow th' path back, we'll catch up." Without waiting for a reply and ignoring any protests, he limped over and dropped to sit on the ground beside the hedgehog woman, nudging her with an elbow. "'Ere now, cheer up. If I 'ave t' wear a dress, you 'ave t' laugh at me." Emelyn Emelyn lifted her head with great effort, and looked- not beyond the man who spoke to her, as she'd done with Miller- but directly into Thom's eyes. She was not laughing. "You're wearing a dress because they glued you into it. ...And he's laying in that grave because they put him there." Her voice croaked in and out of a hoarse whisper. Thomas Brinley His smile faltered ay her reproving tone and, with some effort, he pulled his eyes free of her pained gaze. For a long moment he was silent, mulling over her words and summoning an argument in retaliation. This wasn't the Em he wanted to hear. They needed the old Emelyn back. "So they did," he finally mumbled, lifting his head back to hers. "Subjects're dead, I'm in a dress, an' by their little spectacle t'night they've ruined th' party. But th' labs didn't aim to kill those people--they lost 'oo knows 'ow much when those poor people passed, an' th' people 'ad their little revenge. I'm sure Sabin stuck me in this with the intention of makin' me furious an' ruinin' my evenin'. An', mind, I'm a tad drunker for wearin' it, but I managed t' come out grinnin', so I win." He paused, casting a glance around the clearing. "Now your turn. They've set y' on this hike, dump y' in this graveyard to upset you. Th' dead are dead, an' no amount of tears'll bring 'em back. Are you goin' t' let them win?" Emelyn "Let them win..." it was less of a statement than a whispered echo of Thom's words. She looked again, then, through the slats in the low fence at the dark stones shining with a blue-white pallor from the high-settled lights. "No. Maybe they're the only ones who haven't let them win. ...Little revenge." Thomas Brinley He sighed, lifting a hand to rub his temples. This wasn't quite the effect he had been aiming for. "Tell me somethin', Emelyn," he attempted once more, letting his hand fall. "Say you're the next t' land in one of these graves, an' by your own will at that. Two days from now, a week from now, it doesn't matter. What good will it bring? Th' labs'll be furious, but they'll manage. Th' ones you've left be'ind..." Thom shrugged, nodding towards the graves. "You knew one of them? More than one? Imagine 'ow you felt when you realized they were gone. Set yourself in their place, set me in yours. An' even worse, I'll 'ave t'say I wasn't able t' stop you." He paused once more, turning his eyes towards her and quirking a brow. "I hate t' say it, Em, b'cause I 'ardly think it's what y'need right now, but you're bein' terribly selfish." Emelyn Two emotions spiked in Emelyn then. One was embarassment- a hot feverish altar of humility that she sacrificed herself upon in an instant at the thought that she was being seen as selfish, or wrong- that she was acting the martyr and the fool. The other emotion which rose up was anger. Indignation- how dare he call upon her feelings and everything that had happened to her, and belittle her pain by calling her selfish. Was her purpose always to be that of sacrificing herself for others, for putting others emotions and needs beyond her own? There was no reconciliation between the two feelings- and so, her words were equally tainted with both. "I'm leaving no one behind. You've known me for a few months. They've known me for over a year. How many noticed that I'd come back to the village? ...How many missed me when I left?" Her eyes, though she willed them to go steely- could not move from their sad position. Thomas Brinley Ah-ha, he had struck a nerve! Winning a biting reply from her was certainly better than enduging another apathetic sigh. However, her words were just sharp enough to summon a swell of irritation from the cobra man. He didn't much mind. This 'discussion' would either result in a much happier or much angrier Em. Either was an improvement, and he would respond as needed to be sure at least one stuck around. "No one behind?" he exclaimed bitterly, gracing her with a dry laugh. "Lovely, if anyone cares that you'd be gone, you're leaving them be'ind. You sound like a spoiled child! D'you honestly think just b'cause no one rushed t' greet you that no one was glad t' see you back? You were living in th' jungle when I arrived 'ere, an', unless I'm mistaken, I was livin' in th' jungle when you came back to th' village. Even on this island, people 'ave lives, people 'ave problems, and everyone can't be expected t' gather in welcome of dear Emelyn if Emelyn doesn't let them know she's returned." "If it means anythin'," he added after a beat, grinning wryly, "No one's come t' see me in th' jungle. Includin' you." Emelyn Emelyn's face was paused in shock. His words had not been kind- and her heart was not eased by their harshness. But, in a turn of a small blessing- she was distracted from the ache which, for a time, was no longer buoyed at the surface of her emotions. With the harshness of his words, and his accusations- she was 'selfish', and 'chilidsh'- the nihilistic bubble of mourning sank below, if only for a while. "Why are you being... so mean?" A child's voice came through her lips, and she looked shocked, pinned to the earth with a sad little frown in her eyes. She honestly didn't understand how she truly was being selfish, at least in the way that humans so often are. They want someone to hold them, to comfort them and take care of them... to know that she was loved. But of course, everyone wants those things, and are seeking them as well. She was not unique in her needs- nor was she the only one who felt them unmet. But recently, having lived so solitary a life- Emelyn White had fallen prey to the almost unrealized belief that she was the only one suffering thus. She did not have a monopoly on pain, on loss... or on heartbreak. But in the past few months as her emotional state had crumbled... she had forgotten this, and her world had become as centered around her own existance as surely as if she had anchored an emotional lightning rod to her forehead in place of her well-worn goggles. Thomas Brinley The words weren't meant to be kind. They were meant to serve as a distraction and, with a bit of tweaking, to make her realize that her situation was not as unique and she seemed to believe it. "I'm not bein' mean," he assured her, voice softening somewhat as he offered a more genuine smile for her benefit now that he had gotten her attention. "But you're not th' only person on this island 'oo's lonely, Emelyn, an' you seem to've forgotten that." Emelyn She blinked- slowly. "Are you lonely, Thom?" Thomas Brinley He raised a brow, cocking his head to the side. "I 'ardly think that's relevant, Emelyn." Emelyn "You're the one that brought it up." Despite herself- despite all the crazy, selfish, childish, lonely emotions that made up 'herself'- a small smile came to her face. Thomas Brinley "Not once did I claim t' be lonely," he retorted, chuckling. "I merely pointed out that you quite clearly are, an' that no one's seemed t' notice that I 'aven't been in my duplex." Emelyn "You moved...into the jungle?" Her words were cautious to return to more normal speech- and yet- after the rawness of her emotions had been pulled so viciously to the surface, she didn't dare remain wholly committed to her 'funk'. "How are you doing out there?" Thomas Brinley Thom nodded in reply, pleased that the conversation seemed to be safely away from the subject of those buried in the graves and Emelyn's momentary desire to join them. "Been managin' fairly well... Well enough, anyway. I'm a bit more...wayward than you were, I'd imagine. I sleep in th' trees unless it rains, an' eat whatever I catch when I catch it. It's not terribly difficult..." He trailed off, shrugging. "Th' cobra prefers it. But rain's murder." Emelyn "I imagine the cave is too far up for your... tastes, then." She said it more of an aside than an actual question. She didn't know much about cobras- but she had a hard time believing one would care to scale a mountain daily to get out of the rain. Thomas Brinley "Trees are easy t' climb." Pausing, Thom glanced pointedly down to his cane and stub leg. "Mountains are not." Emelyn "Well, I'd offer you the use of the things I set up outdoors- but I don't think many would help you." She sniffed- the air was getting colder, but her hedgehog fur accommodated by bristling up against the sensation. "You don't... eat fish, do you?" Thomas Brinley "I appreciate the offer, but I move around too often t' lug it about with me, I b'lieve. I wouldn't rule out fish," he added after a moment, mulling over the idea. "I 'aven't tried catchin' any yet. Lizards are easier." He paused, grimacing at the images his own words summoned, then climbed to his feet with the aid of his cane, turning to offer Em a hand up and nod towards the path. "Whatsay we start back? I'm sure neither of us want to spend th' rest of th' night 'ere." Emelyn Emelyn started to explain that no, she didn't mean things that he'd need to carry- but rather, implements like her drying rack and fishcatch that were stationary- but at the sight of him crawling to his feet and offering her a hand changed her thought direction. She debated for a moment then which was worse- not accepting someone's hand once they've offered it to you for aid, or letting someone who uses a cane pull you up to your feet when you could have done it yourself. In the end, she decided his pride must be hurt if she looked at him as one disabled- so she took his hand and let him help her to her feet. "Thank you. ...I wouldn't mind some company back through... that" she jerked her muzzle at that 'path of horrors' they'd come up through. Thomas Brinley Thom had a tendancy to forget he was 'disabled'. Mind, it had changed a great deal of his life and habits; he couldn't play soccer anymore, couldn't run at all, couldn't manage half of the things that had occupied his time before his changes without a great deal of effort. But he could stand without the cane if need required it, and he could walk, if only slowly and over flat ground. He had as used to having one leg as anyone could, and was simply grateful that he was still standing on his own. He could manage just as well as the next person...for the most part. He nodded his agreement at her fitting 'description' of the path, grimacing faintly at the idea of passing back through it. Mind, most of the scenes were bound to be done with... But there were some that would be disgusting regardless. He would rather not pass through the grove of skinned experiments if he could avoid it. "If I knew where we were, I'd suggest just takin' th' jungle... Can't be 'ard t' find th' duplexes, eh? Or will y' be returnin' to th' party?" Emelyn "I'm not going back to the... party." She didn't say anything more about it- hoping he wouldn't call her childish again, or selfish. "How is your nightvision? If you want, we can cut through the jungle." Emelyn wasn't keenly familiar with this section of the island's foliage- but her long stint as a 'wild child', coupled with her now innate animal instincts suggested she'd not have a problem bypassing the 'path'. Thomas Brinley "I didn't expect y' would," he replied, sending her a smile to show he meant no offense. He wasn't going back either. Shrugging, he gestured her forward, not towards the path, but into the jungle where there seemed to be the least ground growth. "'Ardly better than it was b'fore, sadly. But we'll brave it, eh? It's an island. Sooner or later we'll run into somethin' recognizable. No rush, is there?" He sent her a half-grin, then started along his chosen path at her side.
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Posted: Thu Nov 09, 2006 6:47 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 09, 2006 7:12 pm
Jungle Host Emelyn The jungle had a familiar feel to them- the rocks, the ground still somewhat moist though the rains had past several days before, thanks to the cool shelter of the canopy's shade. The regular jungle rustlings kept Emelyn alert, but not on edge- the hedgehog in her had long since accepted that, despite its own personal preference, the human entity with which it shared a body would continue to have them go forth in the daytime. All it could do was keep its hearing and sense of smell keen, compensating all the while for what the harsh sunlight did to their eyes. Emelyn kept them as open as she could, which was the regular 'squint' she had become so accustomed to in the wild. She was looking for someone- hoping that her visit itself would be... an apology, of sorts. Thomas Brinley Thom had never quite settled to life in the jungle. Oh, he could live comfortably enough. The ocean kept him clean enough, the trees made for a perfectly comfortable bed once one grew used to them, and there was plenty of small game to be found near the river. But he had never picked one location for his own as many of other islanders who had experienced spells in the jungle had. The cobra grew restless if it remained in one area for long, and the exploration gave the man something to fill his days. It was a comfortable living, and a pattern they had grown used to, but it meant the cobra could be difficult to find on any one day. Not so since Halloween. Thom had forgotten one minor detail upon leaving Emelyn at the edge of the village that night--he had no pants to change into, nor did he have the means of obtaining some. He had done what he could with what he did have, tearing and tying the garment to end up with something between a deformed skirt and modest loin cloth, but the resulting clothing left him feeling extremely awkward. He was not about to climb a tree wearing such a thing, nor was he going to wander around and risk tearing what little clothing there was. And so he had remained nearer to the village than he would have otherwise, hoping that someone would happen by, and hoping that he would be on good enough terms with said someone that they would agree to retrieve some clothes for him. Emelyn Emelyn was surprised how shallow her trip into the great jungle that canvassed this Hell Island was before she came across a familiar figure. Hedgehog vision is a peculiar thing- though it is sublime at night, picking through the darkness with an ability wholly unknown to anyone human, in the day- it is no better than a regular woman or man's. In fact, it is even somewhat hindered by its dislike of the sun. And so, Emelyn would be practically upon the cobra man before she would realize that it was him, and not some other collection of colors against the jungle brush. "Hello you." She said, startled to have come across him as early as she did- but not utterly surprised. He was, after all, the reason she had traipsed into the jungle. Or, rather, his words at the Halloween party were the cause. Thomas Brinley Boredom had long since taken hold, and Thom was in the process of counting the leaves on a branch nearby when the hedgehog girl arrived. Engrossed in his task as he was, he failed to so much as hear the woman's approach until she spoke, else he probably would have said something to nab her attention earlier on. As it was, he immediately forgot what number he us and, momentarily irritated, glanced towards her, brightening up once he recognized the girl and realized he could probably persuade a pair of pants out of her. "'Ello t'you too. What brings you 'ere, then?" Emelyn "You told me you were out in the jungle, didn't you? Well, I have come," she picked a leaf off a nearby tree and let it fall to the ground, a soft smile on her face as it billowed down, "to visit you." Thomas Brinley That had quite possibly been the last thing Thom expected to hear. He graced Em with a long, confused stare, as if trying to decide whether her words were genuine. Then, apparently deciding they were, he grinned sheepishly, pushing himself off of the ground to climb to his feet. "I'm afraid I 'aven't much to offer t' guests. But th' company is most welcome, thank you." After pausing to clear his throat, he changed the subject. "You've been feelin' better since we last spoke, I 'ope?" Emelyn "Mnn," she said, pulling a strained smile across her muzzle and raising both her eyebrows to give her face a wide-open expression for a moment. Then her face dropped to normal and she waved her hand in the air, as if to literally push the question away. She hoped she was obvious about not wanting to talk about it. "Don't worry- living out here makes you concerned with yourself. Hard to accommodate for anyone else." The statement was intended to brush off his apology for a lack of 'hospitality', but also, as soon as it had cleared her muzzle, she realized that it also somewhat explained her emotions, and her actions- of late. Thomas Brinley He wisely dropped the subject, instead turning to her assurances that he need not worry about the poor accomodations. The parallel the simple sentance had to their conversation back in the graveyard did not escape him, but he carefully avoided mention of it, instead focusing on the more literal meaning. "I rarely stay in one place for more than a night at a time, but..." He grimaced, rolling his eyes upward. "T' be honest, I've been 'opin' I could convince someone t' retrieve some pants for me. I wasn't fond of th' dress." Emelyn "And you're also not fond of the... er... loincloth?" Her smile was less strained, now- as she purposefully kept her eyes matched to his. She was glad Thom refrained from mentioning their last conversation- or pressed her too far on gauging her emotional state. It was- precarious, at best, and knowing how he felt about the situation, Emelyn was already guilty that she'd been unable to shake the 'funk'. The best she could hope to do right now was push it away, and realize that she did not have a monopoly on pain- that others would be suffering, too. Thomas Brinley "Should I be?" he pressed, hiding his own grin while attempting to draw out hers. His first few meetings with the woman had set her in his mind not as someone who never frowned, but someone who mostly smiled. That smile had been far too scarce of late, and, selfish as he was, he wanted it back. Even after all four injections, Emelyn had a lovely smile. Not for the first time, Thom found himself wondering what she had looked like before the island. Emelyn She could not read the cobra man's mind- nor would she have guessed the nature of his current thoughts. And yet, even so, her smile spread into something wide and genuine- a sight that seemed so out of place, so human, amongst her animalistic features. "If you're fishing for a compliment, you'll have to use better bait than that." Thomas Brinley Success as its finest, he thought smugly as the smile appeared. He echoed it with a grin of his own at he retort, laughing aloud and taking a small step towards her. He could manage that much without his crutch. "Pity th' poor disabled 'alf snake? I'm sure you've won compliments left 'an right since arrivin'. Humor me." Emelyn "Awww..." she said, making no small exaggeration with the word as she batted her eyelashes and mimicked his small step. "Well then, I think that the loincloth suits you. Very... SnakeBoy.. er... man," she said, bowing slightly to accommodate for the slight, "SnakeMAN on the prowl. ...Although of course I'll get you some pants, if you'd like." She pinned that one note of seriousness onto her reply, though the smile remained on her face throughout. Thomas Brinley "SnakeMan on the prowl," he laughed, clapping his hands in sarcastic applause. "Brilliant," he praised, gracing her with another step forward. "An' I'll take you up on that offer. But not just yet. You came t' visit me, not to 'ave me send to you off on errands." Emelyn Emelyn wondered why they were moving even closer to one another- but by now, it had become a game, of sorts, and she wasn't apt to relinquish her 'turn'. She stepped forward once more, and gave a belated curtsy to his sarcastic clap. "Psh." It was a joking, dismissing nose that came out easily despite the hindrance of her changed hedgehog muzzle. "Who said I was leaving already?" Thomas Brinley "No one," he quickly assured her, shrugging his shoulders. Apparently their game had ended, for he remained where he was, even turning and reaching back towards the tree for his cane. "Tell me somethin', Emelyn." Turning back to face her, he quirked a brow. "Why did you really come t'day? Because if it's out of pity, or out of guilt, I don't want you 'ere." Emelyn The smile fell from Emelyn's face, and she, too, stopped in her tracks. Game over. She crossed her furred arms before her chest, mostly covering the green bikini top she'd donned that morning in the process. "Correct me if I'm wrong," her voice was even-toned- almost unassuming, "but that doesn't seem to be the sort of thing that one says to a friend. ...I figured we were friends, Thom. Are friends." She did not speak to guilt- nor did she allow any condescention or hurt to creep into her voice. Instead, it was just a gentle statement, intended to answer Thom's statement in the best way she knew how. A quick assertion to negate his suspicions would doubtfully clear them from his mind... and it would do him no good to accuse him or to allow anger or hurt emotion to dance through her words. Emelyn had always been sensitive to the way she dealt with other's emotions (even if her intentions sometimes translated badly to those she spoke with)- it was only with her own feelings that she was so cavalier and cruel. Thomas Brinley His smile returned, but it may not have been entirely genuine. He nodded in something of a half bow, shifting his weight off his tail to the cane. "Of course we are. Just as we would be if you 'adn't come, just as you are with those friends who 'aven't come t'visit you in th' village. Your timing seemed...questionable." He paused, then offered a sheepish grin in apology, voicing it aloud meanwhile. "I apologize. I could've worded that better. Let's walk? I've been 'ere for three days and am rather sick of th' place." Emelyn She nodded at the offer of a walk, and hope he didn't mind that she headed off in a southward direction. It was filled with a darker sort of jungle than on the sparser northern half- and it was easier on her eyes, especially to be facing away from the glare of the sun as it clamored its way through the canopy. "If there's a question about my timing," she said, "it's only to question why I didn't come earlier. ...Even if I didn't know you were out here then." It was a soft joke, and came with an equally gentle smile... and an unspoken apology. Thomas Brinley One direction was as good as another. He had no particular destination in mind, except that they stay within an easy walk of the village. He would have shorts, dammit. For now, however, he could make due, and a walk would be most welcome. With the aid of the cane he managed to keep pace fairly easily. "I'm as guilty as you are, then." Chuckling softly, he glanced over to her. "Though, no offense intended, I wouldn't 'ave come back to th' village t' visit even if I 'ad known you were back." Emelyn "None taken. I didn't exactly make any housecalls in the past few months." She picked gingerly through the underbrush, though the heavy pads on the bottom of her hedgehog feet didn't warrant the extra care. The cautious steps were half for the sake of having a stalling technique for Thom's need to walk with a cane, and the other half from an old affectation: walking slowly while Reuben bounded about her with a puppy-like enthusiasm. "So why are you out here, Thom?" The question hadn't really been asked during their last conversation- it hadn't been the time for it, or the place. Thomas Brinley "True. You 'ad me walkin' all th' way out to th' beach if I wanted t' see you. At least I've 'ad th' consideration t' stay near th' village." Briefly, anyway. If he gleaned the reason for her careful steps, he said nothing, possibly torn on how react to such treatment. One side was thankful for her attempt to make things easier on him, but the other argued that he should be able to keep up even if she walked properly. Pride demanded it. "Apparently," he offered after a long moment, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground ahead, "I offended a certain someone enough that he asked th' labs for retribution. I was imprisoned in my duplex for a few days, attempted to kill th' cause of my punishment once freed, an' was susequently granted a short stay in th' labs." Pausing briefly, he shrugged, continuing with forced brightness. "That's th' shorted version, any'ow. I 'aven't been able t' return t' my duplex. It..." It terrified him. But he wasn't about to admit that aloud. Emelyn "Wow." It seemed an inappropriate summation to his explanation, but even so, it was the first thing to clear Emelyn's lips. (If they could rightly be called that, anyway.) "I'm sorry to hear that. All of it." She debated offering him a place to stay in her duplex- but something in the tone of his voice suggested that it was not a case of physically not having a place to stay... so much as not having one, emotionally. He was out in the jungle for more reasons than one, Emelyn thought to herself. True- she also berated herself for imposing a 'greater meaning' on what could be a simple, temporary outing from the village for Thom- she was always looking too deeply into things, or assuming that there was an underlying purpose to everything. More often than not, it made her life more difficult than it needed to be. Even so, it was difficult- if not damn near impossible- for her to go against her nature, at least when it came to herself. She would spare Thom her assumptions, however, and simply nodded. "It's not... too bad out here. It gets lonely, after a time." She looked over at her walking companion- her eyes would tell him that she was being frank, and not suggesting anything one way or another. "I know that's not a very casual thing to say to someone. But it's true. And I wish someone had told me that when I decided to impose the solitude upon myself. Sometimes you'll go weeks without seeing anyone. It's refreshing, at first. For a long while, even, if you can live with yourself that long. I don't know." She didn't allow him to answer right away- hers seemed to be a rhetorical conversation. She kicked at a rock and watched it skitter away. "Maybe it's only if you drag yourself through the coals all the time do you find that living alone will get to you after a while." Thomas Brinley Wow, perhaps, was fitting given the brief explanation he had granted Emelyn. Had he gone into detail, had he delved into his memories to dredge up words of endless black, of clicking legs and crunching bodies, of knowing with complete certaintly that there would be no change the next day, or the next day, or the next day... Had he spoken of the sheer madness and fury that inspired one to hunt down and murder a target in whatever way possible without fear of retaliation, or to wake up hours afterwards thinking you had just taken a life... Or had he spoken of the opressive heat of the red room, of the ghost-like faces that had materiaized into the shadow that still followed him, of the hunger that had pressed him to kill and eat something still warm and bleeding... Then, perhaps, he would have warranted more than a 'Wow'. As it was, the entire stretch of memories went through his head in a matter of seconds, leaving him with a mild headache and a slightly apprehensive feeling. He lifted his free hand to rub his, forcing a smile for Emelyn's benefit as he replied. "I'm already sick of it. Even th' duplex was bad, but not as much so knowin' someone was right upstairs. I've never lived alone," he admitted with a soft laugh. "Until the island an', worse, th' jungle. I don't know 'ow you managed it f' so long." Emelyn "Textbook narcissist," she said, her voice rounded with a gentle self-mocking tone to let Thom know she was kidding, "It's easy to spend company with yourself." The truth was, she knew that she hasn't 'successfully' lived on her own for as long as it had seemed: by the middle-months, she was already beginning to feel the strain of the emotional breakdown that eventually left her nearly useless to herself or anyone else. Though no one had yet chanced to ask her how she had 'thwarted' her morals to return to the village, she still dreaded the day that someone asked her why, and she knew that it would eventually come. She would have no better answer than the near-humiliating response of "I was beginning to lose everything I was." "But I'm assuming you're not pulling an entire-village embargo?" Like I did She left out, though her meaning was clear. Thomas Brinley Her self-mocking words provoked a grin from the snake man, a look that soon faded with her question. Rather than answer with a flat out yes or now, he edged around her words, only half explaining. "I feel...uncomfortable indoors," he offered, letting his hand fall back to his side. "But I go indoors when it rains, if I 'appen t'be nearby." And only if there was no other alternative. He had been able to stand the tent on Halloween because it was open and airy. Buildings typically were far too constricting for the cobra man. Emelyn "If the village still makes you uncomfortable, though... have you considered building any freestanding structures out here? Something to let you get out of the rain without really being 'indoors'?" She didn't suggest the caves- he didn't seem to be the sort- man or animal- to be cavorting around in those dank holes in the ground that peppered the base of the great mountain. Thomas Brinley "Considered. Attempted with mild success," he admitted, then grimaced. "Th' cobra doesn't like stayin' anywhere for long. If I 'ave enough warnin' b'fore th' rain, I try t' get to th' beach bar an' 'ole up there until it passes. It's not perfect, but th' beach isn't too far from any one point in this area, an' it's open enough that it doesn't suffocate me." Emelyn She stopped walking for a moment, and turned to Thom. "I could help you. I'm not the best with bigger tools- in fact, it took me forever to just put together my drying rack- but we could get others to help, too. I'm sure it would be beneficial to more than just you." She couldn't believe that the jungle wouldn't become more populated with islanders- not when so many were changing, saying goodbye to that which had made them wholly human. Thomas Brinley "We could..." he agreed somewhat warily, pausing in step as well. "It's an excellent idea, and would undoubtably be 'elpful. My point is, I doubt I would use it. I can't be sure I would be anywhere near it, or that I could find it, or that it would be empty. I, ah...get a tad...antsy when it rains." He paused a moment longer, then started walking once more. "B'sides, we 'aven't any tools or supplies, an' I'm not about to ask th' labs." Emelyn She beamed. "I've got a makeshift knife that... you know, if you want it, you can have it. I don't think I'll be needing it anymore. We could use that to strip smaller branches. I've never done anything on a bigger scale- but you could fashion something between a network of trees." She shrugged, but was obviously excited. "I'll have to think about it. But don't worry- I'll talk to some of the other villagers, not the labs." She'd still not gotten past that particular stigma. Thomas Brinley Chuckling, he again paused, turning back to face her. "You're really set on this, aren't you?" Emelyn She put up her hands in a somewhat less than hapless shrug, and left the smile on her face. "What else do we have to do on Hell Island, neh?" Thomas Brinley "A good point," he admitted thoughtfully, then, grinning, shrugged. "Very well. You plan it, I'll 'elp you make it. No askin' th' labs for anythin', only other islanders. An' they can 'elp if they want to." He sighed in mock exasperation, shaking his head. "It'll keep me occupied, at th' very least." Emelyn "It sounds like a scavenger hunt, when you put it like that. But don't worry. I'll be true to both of our high moral standards." She said it with a smile, and reached out at the same time to touch his hand where it rested on his cane. She had been walking along his left side, and so, it was readily accessible. Thomas Brinley "Per'aps it is a scavenger 'unt." A touch. Friendly, reassuring, an understanding link from one person to the other. But just that. Friendship. He smiled. "'Huntin' down th' components we need t' build this shelter. No cheatin'. It might take a bit longer, but we'll get it done." Emelyn "Good." She smiled, and tucked both her hands into the frayed pockets of her jean shorts. There was something comforting about having her hands pinned down- even when she slept, she usually put one hand in a gentle fist tucked against the slope of her chest, and the other flat against the knot of her hipbone. Then, her stomach against the ground, there was no other way Emelyn could sleep. "We'll get you settled yet." She continued walking again, glad at the thought that Thom might have something to do with his time, now- something to aim for. She would never tell him so- but she felt sorry for him. There was little to him that Emelyn could really understand: at the core of him, he seemed flustered. His reactions were stilted, and mostly unpredictable to the woman. But even so, he was friendly, and Emelyn wondered if he might one day loosen up- if this tight, controlled demeanor was more of an act than a personality.
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Posted: Sun Nov 12, 2006 4:50 pm
Who they were... and who they are An old love affair was born again in Emelyn- she had not thought that it would happen- true, she had given so little thought to it recently... that it seemed like the lack of it had been so much longer than those numbered months. Emelyn's smile was soft, creasing the lines that ran off her muzzle into the more valley-like expansions of her cheeks... as it all came flooding back to her. She tripped her clawed fingers so gently over the bindings, as if afraid to mar them even slightly. Emelyn had missed books, and reading- she even missed that her own survival had taken so much effort and care that she'd not actively missed them. It is likened- though much more dampered- to anything you mourn the loss of. At first, the ache is steady and constant, and you can't imagine ever not thinking about it- the loss being so poignant and obvious that there might as well be a black hole drawn onto the pages of your life. But then, gradually, the loss begins to... if not fade away, at least sink down to where your recall of it becomes... patchy. You can go for days, weeks- even months, as time goes by, without thinking on it- and then, when a reminder bobs its head above the surface, it all comes flooding back, and you find yourself not only missing it once more... but also pining that the ache of it has gone. It doesn't feel right to forget- and yet- it is impossible not to. There were more than books on the Entertainment room shelves- there were also videos, seamlessly joining their literary brethren as if they could hope to sneak into the same family. Emelyn passed over these as well with, if not the same loving devotion to the collection of books, at least a fond smile. It faltered only once- when her eyes hit the Disney Robin Hood. Then, she touched it with one clawed finger, her other hand going up to similarly graze her muzzle. Her thoughts, though contained, gave way to a soft sigh- and she returned to the section of books, poring over the bindings again as if to find an old friend. Ambrose had only freshly been relinquished from the confines of a hospital bed at the laboratories, but had become stir crazy long before that. His injuries, thank God, were ultimately not that severe but still left him peppered with stitches where Annie's claws had gouged into his flesh, shaved to reveal the wounds and keep his fur from getting into them. A fresh bandage was wrapped around his thick neck where Angharad had latched onto it.
But, despite the pains and twinges, Ambrose was more than happy to be back in the village and on his feet again, though a trepidation and embarrasing cowardice - or perhaps he could pass it off as common sense - kept him from setting foot outside of the village. At least.... until his injuries were healed. That was a sound enough excuse, at least.
So after a filling meal of food from the cafeteria, Ambrose meandered towards the entertainment room to see if anything of interest might catch his attention. Perhaps a good movie was in order. If he couldn't roam the island perhaps his imagination could take an even more adventurous romp with an old favorite or a new one with potential.
What Ambrose wasn't expecting was a fresh, familiar smell that immediatly brought to the surface a number of emotions and mental flags. Walking quietly inside, the smell was matched to the unmistakable spiny silhouette poring over the available novels.
While he had seen her in passing at the Halloween party, and the embarrassing timing at the Truth or Dare game that had gone horribly awry, it had been a very long time since he had had any sort of meaningful conversation with Emelyn. And as awkward as some of the subjects might be, or as difficult as the task to explain away months of absence to an old friend, it was not a task so unsurmountable as to write off any contact whatsoever. Besides, the island was only so large... and the last time they had spoken, it had been on quite friendly terms.
So, making his decision, Ambrose padded forward, a small wag in his tail. He cleared his throat so as to hopefully not startle her if she hadn't already sensed his presence, and initiated the conversation with an irritatingly shaky, "Emelyn.... hello."
Many islanders upon Moreau's Hell Island, as their change into an animalistic amalgam occured, found themselves gifted with certain abilities that they wouldn't have dreamed of, prior to the veritable rape of their DNA. Heightened senses were among the most common of these abilities- impressive, almost unbelievable eyesight, night vision, a sense of smell that could create vivid pictures- the list was nearly endless. Though their new abilities were little to be thankful for, considering the circumstances, there was hardly an islander that did not marvel at their power. Humans, for the most part, have seen themselves as superior for so long- the 'master species', not even qualified to be called animals... that the islanders were mostly amazed to realize that there was more raw power in an animal than they could have imagined- more ability, more sense- that it wasn't long before the islanders that Moreau had created... realized that as far as fundamentals go- humans are... average. And that's being kind. Life atop the evolutionary ladder had, in a way, weakened them, and certainly left them without the need for such additional accoutrements as their survivalist cousins.
Emelyn, though her night vision was impeccable, and her animal instincts keen- was one of the few who did not boast a heightened sense of smell. Her nose was privvy only to the closest, most hedgehog-pertinent information, and even then, it was not so much better than a humans. Just different. So she did not smell Ambrose's approach- nor did her ears alert her to the wolfman's presence before he spoke. Only his words turned her eyes to meet him- startled.
"Ambrose..." it was a question and yet- absurdly rhetorical.
Now that he had garnished her attention, Ambrose felt at a loss with what precisely to do with it. So he put on a small smile and his tail made a socially-appropriate wag (or so a part of his mind assured him). But the awkwardness and utter lack of a plan on what precisely he was out to say was evident by the pregnant pause in the air and the overlong delay of the smile - which changed from polite to sheepish based on its duration.
Finally, his brain seemed to kick over after a manual restart and he once again was reuinted with his powers of speach. "I'm glad to see you're alright.... after the attack and all.... and back in the village even.." He seemed to realize only after he opened his mouth that her return to the village might very well have something to do with Annie's presence in the jungle. Perhaps her being here wasn't even really a choice so much as a necessity.
Only when he'd spoken did she realize that the smile she'd had on her face before his entrance had fallen off; she replaced it then.
"Oh, you expressed concern over my welfare before I could do it for yooouu..." she drawled softly, patting a fist on her chest over her heart with a gentle thump, as if to show herself wounded. "That makes you the better person, you realize." She was always surprised how easily conversation with Ambrose came- how effortlessly they slipped back into the track of their friendship, despite how often their lives skewed apart- sometimes for months at a time. She'd never known anyone that could walk into her life again so smoothly after long absences, as if they'd never left... except Mizzie.
"I'm glad you're alright," she said, the joking tone softened into concern, "when you fell on the beach, I thought the worst."
And with a simple ice breaker, the smile on his face doubled in its genuinity and a healthy laugh echoed from his chest.
"Early bird gets the worm, so they say."
His eyes swept over her features, now exposed in the artificial light of the entertainment room and their proximity. Was she now complete, like he? She had been there nearly as long, and her collection of animalistic traits certainly seemed to speak to such a conclusion. But despite how much he changed, he could still see the nostalgic brunette that he knew was still there underneat the muzzle and quills. After speaking with people like Jamal and Pyroth who had allowed themselves to stray so far from their human conditions from time to time, seeing someone so self-possessed of humanity behind those eyes was a relief. Especially that she make it through so apparently unscathed. Of course, Ambrose was not privvy to the incidents that had nearly rended Emelyn from her sanity, or how the routine nature of survival in the jungle could very much border on instinct..... but through it all, with her posture and the friendly smile in her eyes Ambrose could feel that she was very much the same woman that he had met so long ago.
With a shrug and a subconscious touch to the bandage around his neck Ambrose nodded. "I can only imagine how it looked from an outside vantage. The timing of the buzz from the labs was horrendous. But Angelina told me what happened afterwards, at least until she too went under. I'm just glad that .... she decided to drop me after I went limp." For some reason, it felt strange to use the woman's name to refer to the beast that remained.
Emelyn went to cover her mouth with her hand- less from a drastic outpour of emotion than as the follow-through to an old affectation. It was a subconscious way she had of letting others know she was listening- that her mouth would remain closed until they had finished their words. She was unused to the muzzle in its newness though, even yet... and she was startled to realize how soon her hand met a part of her body. Since she did not quite know why that was a default position for her hand, being made aware of its movements unsettled her, somewhat, and she dropped it to her side, not knowing why she'd bothered to move it in the first place. She was more rattled, however, by Ambrose's words. She still did not know who the attacker had been- others had cried 'Annie', and Emelyn had some very vague recall of that name being spoken somewhere on the island before, but her memory did not serve to connect from where or whom. She also didn't know why the animal (or was she a woman? could she even be called so, anymore...) had not been buzzed herself. All those questions were too much for her all in that moment, and, overwhelmed, she turned instead to something lighter.
"Mm.." she said, agreeing with Ambrose's mention of ill-timing, "And... you're heavier than you look." She smiled, giving him a moment to realize what she meant, but then figured he might think that she was still referring to Annie, so she clarified. "There was an islander I'd not met- he ran in and started to drag you away. I went in after him... after he'd already gotten you several feet."
Ambrose gave her an apologetic smile. "Well, my diet has gone completely out the window since the changes began." He waved his hands. "Mostly joking. I never exactly dieted, but I did watch what I ate. Now... now I can eat three or more peoples' shares of meat in a sitting and still feel like I'm holding myself back. But I blame the last change mostly for the majority of my mass gain. So much for my fencer's build."
He rolled his shoulders, a bit awkwardly, and took a more comfortable seat on the arm of the couch in front of the television.
He smiled. "Thank you .... and whoever else assisted as well."
Emelyn leaned against the bookshelves, though she knew it would only be a matter of time before she joined him on the couches. "Anyone would have done the same. ...People were getting buzzed out left and right around me after you. But I'm glad you're alright, and that you didn't have to stay in the labs long." The stigma of the labs, and finding yourself ensconsed in their horror, was nearly as bad as the wounding itself, or so Emelyn felt. Many, she would imagine, would agree with her.
Ambrose nodded. "Me too.. at least they patched me up there and I didn't have to stay any longer than I had to. And Angelina coming to visit and staying with me really helped." His tail wiggled over the side of the couch where it had been hanging.
"I'm glad you made it out alright as well. When I blacked out.... I was scared that I'd failed everyone."
Although a spark of something came into Em's eyes when Angelina's name was mentioned, and the other- non attack- events of that night resurfaced in her memory, she stifled them when Ambrose spoke of failing people. She would be joining him in comfort sooner than she'd thought.
She settled gently into the same couch whose arm he was perching on- making sure her back didn't touch the upholstered fabric, and keeping her posture straight so as not to press too hard on her wealth of spines. She wasn't especially close to Ambrose- it was a wide couch- but what she wanted to say (and he needed to hear) didn't translate well to her being stand-offish.
"I wish I knew what it is in you that gives you such a need to be strong for everyone. You blame yourself even when you know it's not your fault." She smiled, a soft, happy thing that spoke less to mirth than to express how genuine her words were. "You were a hero that night- no one thinks any less. If you hadn't gone after... her..." she followed Ambrose's example with the near-euphemism pronoun, "who knows what would have happened."
Ambrose leaned forward as Emelyn approached and broke the large personal space bubble that had kept the two apart from eachother earlier in the encounter.
"Thank you... again. And, well, I suppose I would have felt more the hero if I had lasted more than a few seconds before the labs knocked me out. I'm... surprised - but in a good way - that Jamal assisted as well. I need to try to find him and thank him."
Emelyn dropped her hands to her lap "I was surprised to see him on the beach." She left it unsaid that it was the first time she had seen him... since the attack.
"I was surprised to see him there as well. The last I saw him was right after my last change in the jungle. He was.... only barely clinging to cognizance, it seemed. I felt as if I made a wrong step he might have gone for my throat. Maybe he's getting better. It would be reassuring to hear that even those who are drifting away from their humanity have hope."
He paused, thinking of Annie. "Well... for some perhaps, it's too late."
The pronoun euphemism would not do any longer. It was too evident to Emelyn that there was no way to wish this into nonexistance- that the sake of this feral islander that the labs were apparantly unable to subdue would not disappear. "...Who is she, Ambrose?"
Ambrose looked genuinely surprised, and then awkward as he whet his lips and pondered how to respond. "You... don't know? I had assumed the rumors had been traveling. Her name is Angharad.... I can't remember her surname. She was a young woman who arrived with her friend Fiona several months ago. I... I had met them shortly after their arrival. They were PETA activists or some similar organization. They got caught freeing lab animals back on the mainland and were sent here."
He picked at one of the smaller bandages on his arm. It felt strange to talk about her as a person. The creature that Ambrose had tried to.... to kill.
"I.. I heard that they had a sort of experimental serum. Something that sped the process up.... and it didnt' work. She went crazy during her last change and..... attacked her friend. Aubrey says that she ripped her chip out that night and the labs have been unable to bring her down."
"She's the one... that killed all those people then? The names on the stones..." she slumped down in her seat, feeling the pressure of the lowest level of her spines, which let her know that they were being trampled, but not caring. "And no. No rumors spread out to where I was. I only happened back into the village recently." If she hadn't been so occupied- so consumed with the thought of this feral islander, this 'Annie'- she wouldn't have brought up her return to the village so soon, or nearly so casually.
Emelyn's lack of recognition of the name save for the writing on the stones was a relief to Ambrose. At least she hadn't known her before she went mad. "I was wondering when you had returned. I'm glad to see you back here, though. It is simply not safe out there."
"And yes.... I never followed the path all the way to the graveyard.... but Angelina told me what she found there. She.... she told me that she found names of people that I knew... that we knew out there.... Nathan - I told him of the island.... and Sean..." He swallowed, eyes drawn back to the cushions of the couch instead of Emelyn.
Emelyn was a strong woman, and not for any sake of a need to overcome a tumultuous past or to try and prove anything to anyone. This New England girl had been raised in- if not a conventional family dynamic- certainly the most loving, caring household she could have imagined. No, this woman's strength came from the same place that her need for travel and change had originated: deep inside... perhaps even her soul, if such a thing existed. She hated seeming lost, alone, or even afraid. She would go out of her way to hide her emotions, bury her own troubles for fear that she would dislike hersef, even punish herself for the sake of them. It was only on those rare moments- like the near breakdown that she had endured after so many long months in the wild, or that day that Ambrose had come to her and told her that they were over... that Emelyn let her emotions free. Even seeing the names on the tombstones on Halloween- even then, with all her morose talk with Thom- she did not cry. Then Ambrose said Sean's name.
Her eyes bled tears at that very moment. It started as a gentle, viciously unwanted upwelling, then tipped over the edge of her eyelids and caught in her fur.
Ambrose's voice caught in his throat. Hearing of Sean's death had been a slap in the face and a cold splash of guilt for never even going to try to find the funloving man that had quickly become a very good friend of Ambrose. Hell, after the detachment from his superficial friends in High School, The Dude had been Ambrose's first genuine male friend that he felt he could talk to about things deeper than upcoming competitions.
But he hadn't seen the heavy stone with his name chiseled into it, and since hearing the news, he hadn't seen anyone else that had also known him.
Desite the reason, Ambrose always felt guity to see a woman cry, let alone the fact that it was his words that brought the tears. "Emelyn... I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said.... I just.... so few other people knew him at this point. I haven't seen Greer in.... in God knows how long. The Dude - Sean... he was a great person... a ray of sunshine and yet realistic all the while. He wasn't afraid to slap you in the face if you were being selfish.... or an idiot." He sighed heavily and fiddled with his fingers.
"It feels.... wrong.... that he's been gone for so long..... missing for longer... and we never knew.... "
Emelyn's tears didn't stop- though she rushed to wipe them away, and rubbed at her eyes as if to rip the moisture away, though more sprang to fill every void she created. It was more for the sake of her strength, now, but also for Ambrose's obvious discomfort. "I can't believe it's been so long. We've been here so long. He was... I didn't even know him that well, really. None of us did. But it..." hurts. She didn't say it, though the word rang in her mind.
He nodded, as if understanding her unspoken sentiment. His own chest tightened, her turbulent emotions visable to not only the eye but obvious to his sense of smell as well. He had never been half as empathic before his changes. But it would never do to cry himself in front of her.
So he clenched his hands together tighter, his ears drooping as he watched the emotions play over Emelyn and wanting to join her - to somehow express the grief he himself felt but didn't know what to do with. He had never... lost anyone in his life before. His parents still lived, his grandparents, though distant, were also still alive. It felt so unreal to him that a friend, a compatriot... was truly gone. And that the same thing that wrested his life away from him was still a threat to almost every other incomplete islander.
"I don't know.... the longer I"m here the more distant my old life feels sometime. So separate. Everythign here is so different - not just what has happened to us, but the lifestyle, the people.... I think one of my few comforts was the amazing friendships that I've made here. Despite it all... I didn't think that the procedure was such a risk if we completed it. I never thought that I'd lose anyone..."
While he spoke, Emelyn moved closer to him- a shuffling motion that seemed punctuated by her tears- it was not graceful or beautiful at all, but rather, as scared and turbulant as her emotions. He spoke of loss, and she made herself not think of Mizzie, and of her grandfather- and in doing so, their faces screamed in her mind. She put her hands, then, on him- on his fur, along side his flank, then over his fisted, pawed hands. They did not seem to have a direction, and they did not stay in one place long enough to be seen as a comforting gesture. They had purpose, however, and even as she cried, she explained- and also apologized, in a way, as they continued to move.
"I... I can't be hugged... anymore." A small, simple sentence. It was unlike Emelyn- but it was all she could think to say to explain that this was the only way she knew how to express that sort of human connection that came during sorrow. The touch of a furred hedgehog hand against the fisted paw of a wolf... did not nearly afford the sort of compassion and bonding that a hug could afford- and yet- it was all she had left.
While he spoke, Emelyn moved closer to him- a shuffling motion that seemed punctuated by her tears- it was not graceful or beautiful at all, but rather, as scared and turbulant as her emotions. He spoke of loss, and she made herself not think of Mizzie, and of her grandfather- and in doing so, their faces screamed in her mind. She put her hands, then, on him- on his fur, along side his flank, then over his fisted, pawed hands. They did not seem to have a direction, and they did not stay in one place long enough to be seen as a comforting gesture. They had purpose, however, and even as she cried, she explained- and also apologized, in a way, as they continued to move.
"I... I can't be hugged... anymore." A small, simple sentence. It was unlike Emelyn- but it was all she could think to say to explain that this was the only way she knew how to express that sort of human connection that came during sorrow. The touch of a furred hedgehog hand against the fisted paw of a wolf... did not nearly afford the sort of compassion and bonding that a hug could afford- and yet- it was all she had left.
"They're not as sharp as... everyone seems to think they... are." Her emotion peppered her words with unnecessary pauses, "But... I don't have the benefit of having a hedgehog-like ... um... physique." A hideous sniffle followed, and she was all at once embarrassed for it and also accepting of its necessity, "So the length of the spines lay at different levels- and they don't lay down... entirely flat. Some always poke through."
"I'm sorry." Ambrose said unnecessarily. "I am certainly not one with any eperience... but can you mvoe them consciously? Can you... train them like some people train their hair to fall a certain way?"
He smiled, and reached over, smoothing the quills - carefully, back away from her face. It was a friendly gesture, and one that Ambrose didn't even realize he was happy to be able to make without feeling awkward about it.
"I can sort of move them consciously...all at once, not individually," she said, "unless under... duress, and then they do what they please." Her tears were drying up, and thankfully, few to none were coming in their place. His gentle gesture almost incited them again, however. She had been so long in the wild- and so long without even the benefit of contact. Apparently, the need for another was an instinct that crossed the divide between man and animal. Sometimes she felt the hedgehog she had become desire the sight, the feel of another- not nearly as much as her humanity, but even still, that longing for even a kernel of connection was there.
Ambrose ran his hand along her head a few more times. The quills weren't that bad at all when layed down. Almost like overly thick pieces of fur.
"I supose... perhaps despite the hardships... you say that they've saved your life before. Maybe something with time... lord knows we have more than we will ever need and hardly anything to fill it with."
Emelyn found herself closing her eyes, as if they were burdened by the weight of his gestures. When she opened her eyes, he was speaking again- and Emelyn knew that, if he could let himself go... Ambrose would likely have cried, himself. Enough emotion waited there, torn between some sort of sense of propriety and self-faulting... at least, that was what Emelyn saw.
"I didn't ever think... that it would be forever. Not until recently. I think a part of me always thought something would happen, something would change. But nothing has... except us. Look at us now." He was not the man he had been... and when she looked in the mirror, Emelyn certainly did not see the girl she had once known- but instead, a woman. And not nearly the woman she'd thought she'd become.
Emelyn found herself closing her eyes, as if they were burdened by the weight of his gestures. When she opened her eyes, he was speaking again- and Emelyn knew that, if he could let himself go... Ambrose would likely have cried, himself. Enough emotion waited there, torn between some sort of sense of propriety and self-faulting... at least, that was what Emelyn saw.
"I didn't ever think... that it would be forever. Not until recently. I think a part of me always thought something would happen, something would change. But nothing has... except us. Look at us now." He was not the man he had been... and when she looked in the mirror, Emelyn certainly did not see the girl she had once known- but instead, a woman. And not nearly the woman she'd thought she'd become.
And Emelyn was right to a very high degree. He spoke, he comforted and he distracted himself from the emotions that he felt. Sean's loss, the very real danger that was posed to the rest of them.
"I know what you mean. It always seemed like it would be impossible to go further, that something would bring us back to the 'real world'. But.... we're beyond the point of no return now. I look more beast than man." He frowned. Yes, he had grown accustomed to the wolf in the mirror to a degree, but there was still always the shudder in the back of his mind, the knowledge that it was wrong, that the face on the dresser in the photoframe was the real him. Not the animal.
"You're still more man than beast." Then, she was startled by her own words, or rather, what was behind them, and a realization that hadn't yet washed over her in all the time on Hell Island, came on like a light. "Is that how we're quantifying... worth, now? By how much humanity we still have?"
That brought a smile to his face. "On the inside perhaps. But I think that my form has more than compensated for the man that remains within. While I may not be as far gone as Pyroth, I'm further than even others that have finished their change.. You, Colche. But.... I still have what matters methinks."
He pondered her observation. "For us? Perhaps. For others, I think they have other measures of worth."
"I feel so wrong, sometimes- for being glad that I'm... still a mammal. I mean, from what I've read of hedgehogs- they have so much in common with humans. I should feel lucky that for whatever reason Aubrey picked the hedgehog serum off the shelf... I should feel lucky. But I don't." She hated herself for being so raw.
"Belive me... I know what you mean. As much as I regret becoming an animal at all, I know I have no room to complain. And my .... 'condition' has prompted research and wolves are actually some rather fascinating creatures. And their social natures make them fairly similar to humans as well. And despite the risks, I am glad to be a predator. Call it pride or concern about image or manliness.... but honestly, were i forced to choose an animal, I do not think that a wolf would be very far from a handpicked list. And.... for some reason, I think the hedgehog suits you."
She was reminded then, of similar words from another friend- now it seemed so long ago. She supposed it was. Sean had been the first person she'd told what she would be becoming... and he had said that it would suit her, and that for all her friendliness, she was... prickly. It had put doubts in Emelyn about herself, and now a concentrated lump began to form in her throat at both the thought of Sean- and at it happening once again. "Suits me?”
Ambrose shrugged. "I don't know... you still look like Emelyn to me. I can't put my finger on it precisely. Perhaps that your eyes haven't really changed.... perhaps that you're still very mammalian and ... I don't know... the spines as they frame your face." He shrugged, looking a bit self conscious.
Despite the gravity of all they had talked about- Emelyn beamed. She hadn't been expecting that at all. "...Thank you. I was expecting... well, never mind what I was expecting." She put a hand up to wipe away tears that had long since dried. "I'm sure you know that the wolf suits you- well... it ...amplifies what you already were. Or- wanted." Her words weren't eloquent, but they were heartfelt, and she struggled not to have them sound trite or to have any negative meaning where she didn't intend for it to be, "You always seemed the sort to want a family one day... you made surrogate brothers and sisters out of so many people. One day I wouldn't be surprised if you and... Angie decided to start a family." She smiled a small peace offering of a smile with her name.
Her smile was infectuous, and it seemed to chase away the morose atmosphere from a few moments before. "Thank you. I.... it means a lot that you think that it suits me. I have tried to establish a family here.... and yes. Someday... I would like to start a family. But... I want to marry her first. And ... we're hoping that the labs will cooperate with us like they insinuated..."
Emelyn nodded. "That seems like you, too. The... marrying bit, I mean." She smiled- no need to go into her own tirade about that particular institution. He did seem suited to it, and she doubted he would ever go into the bonds of family life without that particular honorable gesture. "And that's a long way off, too, of course. It'll all happen one day, though."
"Well.. not that long off, I Hope at least. I proposed to her. I got the labs to purchase a ring for me. After all, the "medical experiment" I signed up for promised me five thousand dollars. We're just waiting now... I don't think Aubrey wants us to marry before she weds the madman..."
Emelyn blinked, but it could not stop the clot of surprise that congealed there. "You... proposed?"
His smile widened, though his eyes dropped modestly. "I did... It was.. it was really lovely."
She didn't want to hear about it. ...Why didn't she want to hear about it? She didn't know, and that alone almost made her frown. She didn't have any romantic notions of her and Ambrose together- and there was no spark other than the gentle flame of friendship between them. So why did this bother her so? "Congratulations." She said, glad that the full force of her confusion did not translate to the word. She hoped.
Something almost seemed off about the way she said the words. They were friends... they had made up long ago and both of them had their own futures. Their friendship was intact and for that Ambrose was glad. Was it something about the tone in the voice, or the subtle change in her scent...
Did she stil harbor feelings..? No.... no that didn't seem like her.... but perhaps, perhaps it was just that he did have someone...
"Thank you..... I'm glad that you're back in the village... you've been too removed from everyone. We've had... admittedly unfortunately for the poor souls snared here.... but we've had so many newcomers...." It was probably not nearly as subtle as he intended.
Emelyn didn't pick up on the cue, as seemingly obvious as it was. Instead, she was embarrassed again at the sake of the mention of her return to the village. She did not... regret what she had done- either the choice to remain in the wild, or the one to live in the village again- living in the wild had done things to her psyche that she hadn't imagined would occur, and the loneliness and lack of purpose had eaten away at her. It was this that she tried to convey- more as an apology than an explanation of her return.
"A part of me wanted to stay out there forever, just so that I wasn't breaking my word. But as important as my ideals are... god, Ambrose," her voice broke- not in emotion, but in tone, the propriety stripping clear from her words as if they had been shucked with a knife, "it was so ...alone out there." It was the wrong word- but lonely was far too raw.
"I know.... I mean... that's why I'm glad you've come back... I respect your ideals, and ... I don't think anyone thinks less of you for returning. If anything, I am glad that you are so that I can see you more often... and so your life isn't in danger. And.... again... there are so many new people here... new faces... it almost feels like a different community than it was a year ago when everyone knew everyone else. It's almost like a small town now."
"A town... wouldn't that be a kick? I can't imagine there being an actual society here- something that's not pinned down by this big ...Moreau hypocritical ...atmosphere...type...thing..." she laughed at her own lack of words, then was surprised to hear the sound come out of her mouth. It seemed alien, like it belonged to someone else- to some other situation not befitted to two mostly animal folk conversing.
He chuckled, smiling as Emelyn became uncharacteristically tongue tied. Likely an aftermath of the emotions... "Hunh... wouldn't it thought. There's hardly a structure yet that the labs haven't worked into the system. But.... maybe there could be."
"I think I'd just like something to do, at least. You were right when you said we had so much time and not much to fill it up with. At least out there," she indicated the door with a nod as if the wild lay just beyond it, "I was occupied with taking care of myself and Reuben. Now, I find I don't have a damn thing to do. I feel useless."
Ambrose cocked his head for a moment. "Reuben? I thought that you were alone out there. I didn't know someone else was living out there with you."
"But you should... regardless. Why not you start something... projects are wonderful things."
"Oh! Reuben is my dog." Her smile came out again at the thought of the lovable mutt. "After I found Aubrey during... well.. her attack, she wanted to do something to repay me, but I couldn't think of anything that I would accept from her. But she seemed to really want to do something, so I thought- well, I can save a lab dog. So... Reuben." She put up her hands in a shrug then dropped them to the couch where they made a satisfying, even happy smack.
"Ahhhhhh." Ambrose said as understanding finally dawned upon him. "That's excellent. And it sounds like he was a wonderful companion. Is.... is he still with you
The smile faltered somewhat. "He... I think he's still with Lucas. Well, I hope he is. I haven't been able to find them in the past few days. I don't know if you've met Lucas, but- ugh. It's a long story. Suffice it to say... Joliette attacked me, Lucas found me, and decided I wouldn't want to go back to the labs, so he took me to his duplex for a while. Then I guess I ended up in the labs anyway, because that's where I woke up eventually. With no Reuben."
"Lucas... Lucas... Oh! yes! I met him.... well.... he witnessed my last change... on his first day here. Thought I was a werewolf. Some sort of paranormal enthusiast, right? I haven't seen him since then, though. But then, I haven't really been out much until the Halloween party."
He shook his head. "But Joli attacked you? I'm sorry... I remember she went a bit... crazy... during the lockout. I'm sorry to hear that that's not something that was just spawned from the lack of food. But between her and Jamal.... perhaps there is other advantages to being a predator."
She shook her head. "True. At this point, I can't imagine being more in danger even if I'd been born with a target-shaped tattoo."
"Risk the madness that seems to set upon some of us.... but on the other hand, you're not a target..... unless it's Annie." He sighed and shrugged. "There is no win, I suppose, just a different set of challenges. But I've yet to meet a prey species that has gone feral."
"Really? That surprises me. I would think that the prey instincts to survive- that frantic need to protect yourself... would be just as strong as a predator instinct. I mean, I don't know if it's just the changes, or if living out in the wild put me in touch with that side of me, but I know there were times it was all I could do not to dig me a hole somwhere and stick my head in it." Emelyn knew, again, that she was lucky, however. A hedgehog had few natural enemies- and excepting those rare foxes that had learned to roll hedgehogs into a lake and capture them there, while their underbellies were exposed as they swam away- they had little to fear. Perhaps, the text Emelyn had read so long ago on the peculiar species had said, that was a reason why they were so prone to disease- it was nature's way of weeding out a creature that, for all intents and purposes, did not fit seamlessly into the food chain. But if she could feel the hedgehog need to survive and have to bend away from it, however slight it was- she could only imagine what other 'prey' animals must feel.
"It sound like you might be speaking from experience. But dont' all animals, humans included, have that need to survive? Perhaps some of the prey might be a bit skittish around the predators...." Ambrose paused, reminded of Anatoli. "But... I think that's an exaggeration of personalities to begin with. And it hasn't driven them from civilization... or at least as much as you can call this civilization."
"If that's what you're calling it." She still wasn't happy about being in the village. She wondered how much was going to change- new people coming in, Ambrose getting married. Emelyn seized on one of her musings- and stayed far away from the other. "How many new people have arrived? ...I've met a few, those who wandered out into my foraging path- but there must be more. There are so many new duplexes."
Ambrose nodded. "They built a whole expansion on the other side of the cafeteria, nearly doubling the current duplexes. I had harbored the naieve notion that perhaps the fifty original duplexes would be an indication of the total number of lives Moreau would ruin. Now.... I believe I've heard that the duplexes well into the seventies are occupied."
"Doubling... seventies..." She echoed his words, "What is he building, an army?"
Ambrose's jaw clenched. "I sincerely hope not."
"Can it still be a nightmare?" She was close enough to him that she touched her forehead down to his leg and rest it there, sighing. "I think I still expect to wake up. I don't know how that's possible."
Ambrose shook his head. "I.. don't think so. I harbored that notion for a long time... but This is too real. The sensations.... the scents that bring images to my mind that I couldn't even imagine before..." He shrugged.
She picked herself up. "I'm a yo yo. First I say I'm starting to accept it, then I wonder if it's all a nightmare. You see, Ambrose... this is why you should only come across me every few months. Save your sanity." A soft smile said that she wasn't giving herself over wholly to self-deprication.
He chuckled. "You're a woman. They made a song about the variety of your emotions, didn't they?" He stuck his tongue out playfully.
"But I hope that you have more positive days than otherwise."
"Recently? Not so much. But that's mostly circumstancial." She drew her legs up onto the couch and tucked them beneath her. "It sounds like you've had some joyous times recently, though." It was as close as she could come to mentioning the engagement again.
"Well.... from here on out then. " He gave her a smile and a wag of his tail. He noddd. "For the most part... as good as can be expected with a few notable exceptions."
"Here's hoping. I'll have to find some sort of project, I think, like you said. Let me know if you can think of anything. Because I'm ...bankrupt as far as ideas go."
Ambrose rolled his shoulder. He knew that despite their renewed frienship, asking for her participation somewhere in the wedding plans would be gouche. That and those decisions mostly rested with Angelina.
"I know Gaius had talked about making chairs better suited to our anatomy, but I don't know if he needs help or not. Beyond that..." He shook his head. "Maybe other islanders would be interested in pets..? Or some sort of organization to amke this a real community."
"There's someone making custom chairs?" Her eyes widened, "Tell me where I can find him." She put her hand out to grab his shoulder in a mock super-serious way. "I've been dyyyying since I got back to the village. I never had this problem in the wild."
His expression turned playful, eyes smiling. "Yes, Ah.... I am afraid I don't recall his duplex number, but it should be on the list in the cafeteria. Gaius... I wonder if the two of you could come up with a good design for your physique that doesn't involve spinning it around backwards."
She planted her face in her hands. "Ohhh, I didn't even think of that..."
"Really?" His ears perked. "I've been doing it.. damn... for over a year now to keep from crushing my tail."
She kept her hands over her face, but parted her fingers to peer between the slats. "I will pretend that I would have thought of it, had I experienced my changes in a place where there were chairs."
Ambrose grinned conspiratorily. "I won't tell anyone."
She groaned. "Oh, I'm not worried. I've got enough blackmail on you to feel safe." She dropped her hands into her lap in a very prim, exaggerated way, and grinned.
A mock scowl crossed his face. "Evil woman."
He couln't keep the expression forever, eventually it broke into a snicker.
"Speeeeaaking of blackmail..." she hummed the familiar striptease music, and her grin widened- she wondered if he would connect it to the incident on the beach that night.
He cocked his head, confusion on his face for a good few moments before the spark hit his eyes and his hands swallowed up his face as well. "Oh my.."
She wasn't letting him off that easily- no other words that would give him a chance to slink away from the moment. She grinned, and waited to see if he would comment on his fiance's actions.
"You have the worst timing in the world sometimes, you know? It... it was a dare... there was alcohol involved.... I'm sure you can undersatnd.... right?" He added
"I prefer to think of it as... perfect timing." It was wicked how much she was enjoying this.
"Or something." He shook his head with a sigh, looking thoroughly embarrassed.
"Oh, don't be like that. I'm just teasing." She clapped her hands on her thighs with a sort of delight.
He chuckled, trying to shake off the embarrassment and put up a better face. It has been embarrassing, but perhaps not as much as the previous truth or dare where the intracacies of his anatomy were reavealed.
"This last truth or dare...session... was insane. It was like.. sex or dare."
"No kidding... I don't think anyone had the courage to push the bill like that until .... what was his name... the new kid? Was dared to strip naked and sing his national anthem. It just went to hell from there."
"Thank god I didn't get picked. And all those new people... anyway." She pushed it back away out of the realm of negativity- no focusing on the fact that there were so many new faces.
He nodded. "I don't think I knew half of the people there."
"We're going in circles, my friend." She said it sweetly, with a matching winsome smile.
"You are correct. I suppose we've caught up on eachother and the goings on around us. It's been good seeing you again.... which I've also already said. But hopefully this won't be as rare of an occurence from here out."
"I've missed you, too." She hoped she wasn't being presumptious, reading between the lines- but in the time of her self-imposed isolation, all she'd had were those blank spots, the white void between her few and far between encounters. She was familiar with them- almost used to them- and so now, Emelyn found herself responding to that... nonspeech.
The small smile confirmed her assumptions. "Don't go running off again, ya hear?"
She smiled. "Is there a date for the wedding?" Emelyn did not know whether her evasion was purposeful or not. How strange, to not even know your own mind- and yet, it was so.
He shook his head. "Not yet. But... I can keep you posted, if you like?"
"Mm." It was neither a yes nor a no.
An ear flicked back and he nodded, an equally noncommital response. "Well.. regardless... It was good running into you." He put a hand over hers in a friendly manner, peering towards her face with a smile before getting to his feet.
"You too. I hope I didn't sidetrack you from what you came in here to do. But I..." she stood, and the bones in her legs popped like corn kernels over a flame, "was just going to fetch a book or two." She pointed back to the bookshelf, but postponed her beeline over the impending final goodbyes.
"Well, I wish you good reading." He said with an overdramaticized bow. "And don't hesitate to come calling if boredom seizes you."
"As always, Ambrose. It has been a pleasure."
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 11:42 am
Mothering Instinct... & Being Reunited with the Foundling Rachel opened the door partway and peeked her head outside, checking to make sure no one was around, before stepping out and closing the door quietly behind her. The predawn air was cool, and Rachel wrapped her arms around herself, chilled despite the oversized sweatshirt and running pants she wore. She had woken up early hoping to ensure that her workout wouldn't be disturbed by any of the medical staff who might get it in their head to stop her.
Silently, she crept down the stairs, having decided that this morning she would go jogging. She didn't know where the gym was yet (assuming they had one) and then this way she could do a little exploring at the same time. Rachel stood at the base of the stairs for a moment, while she stretched and warmed herself up.Tommy was on his way back to his duplex. The sun is going to be up in about an hour or so and that means it's time for Tommy to get some sleep. Staying up all night to watch old 50's sci-fi movies had drained him somewhat. The bat-man takes the long way back, still trying to get used to walking on his strange feet, when he spots Rachel off in the distance near her duplex. He frowns somewhat, not sure what to think. He just shakes his head and keeps on walking to his duplex which would include walking past her.Running ahead, Reuben sniffed another bush, then another, then located the right spot and left his mark. Walking slowly behind him was a still rather tired Lucas. The dog had been so demanding, all Lucas had time to throw on were a pair of pants and slipped into his shoes before running outside. It was suppose to be a quick walk around the village, have Reuben do his thing, then head back to bed. However, the more he walked around the more the feeling of the morning air and smells started to wake him.
Ears perking, Reuben caught sight of the female and darted toward her. Lucas, of course, without his glasses couldn't make heads or tails at first of what Reuben was running towards. However, when he caught sight of movement he realized it was another person. Great.
"Reuben, no!" he gave chase.
Ignoring Lucas, Reuben ran up to Rachel, jumping up on her, hoping for some attention.Rachel didn't notice either Tommy or Lucas, until the little dog came running up to her and she looked up. Surprised to see a dog wandering around, she immediately searched the vicinity for it's owner, her eyes falling on two figures.
Great...I'm already caught, she thought to herself, while reaching down to pet the dog. Maybe she could just pretend that she couldn't sleep? That was unlikely, considering her attire if that was indeed what they were doing there. In the dim early morning light, Rachel didn't immediately notice anything different about the two figures, and she called out to the one who was in the direction the dog appeared to have come from.
"He yours?" she asked, trying not to look suspicious or guilty, in case he was there to stop her early morning jog.Tommy just continues to walk toward Rachel but pauses as he sees the dog...and recognizes him. "...hey..." he mutters out and looks around quickly for the hedgehog lady. All he sees though is a rather skinny girl and another changed islander he hasn't met before.
The completely human girl didn't seem to be freaking out...so...huh...he just nods to them in as friendly way he can manage, "Mornin'" he says to the two of them.As Lucas draws closer he begins to make the girl out better. Another human, at least it looked that way. "Sorry about that. Um, no, he's not mine." He stepped forward and placed a hand on Reuben. "I wish you wouldn't jump on people. Or run away." He let out an exasperated sigh, then looked down at Rachel and smiled pleasantly. However, for someone not familiar with the Island, the smile might seem somewhat unsettling since he was showing off some of his pointed teeth and fangs.
Looking over his shoulder Lucas spotted another Islander approaching and waved. Not exactly what he'd been expecting on his short walk. He wished he'd worn a shirt. "Good morning."As the two people came near, Rachel noticed that there was something....off....about the two of them. One of them seemed to have extrodinarily long fingers, and a rather strange looking face. Maybe he was here for medical treatment of some rare birth defect? She didn't know the labs dealt with other types of medical cases.
She turned to look at the second person, as he reached her and the dog, and her eyes opened wider, even as he smiled at her. Was that....fur all over his face and chest? Ok something definitelty wasn't right here. Maybe she was still asleep and this was a freaky sort of dream?
"Morning..." she managed, blinking and shaking her head, trying to make the strange things she was seeing go away. Of course, it didn't work, and she instinctively stood up and took a step back, not quite sure what she was dealing with here.
"Who...who are you?" Rachel asked, grabbing onto the stair railing, prepared to run up the stairs and lock herself in her room if needed.Tommy looks between the two of them for a moment before he notices something strange about Rachel...Oh s**t...not again... He looks panicked for a brief moment before taking a deep to cool his nerves.
"Hey um...guy...I don't think she knows...wanna bolt?" he asks as slyly as he can toward Lucas.Oblivious to Rachel's rising panic, Lucas introduced himself. "My name is Lucas Wickham. And this," he gestured toward the dog, "is Reuben." Almost in rhythm with Reuben's wagging, Lucas' tail was also swaying back and forth without him realizing it.
"Bolt?" It takes the more experienced and observant Tommy to point things out for him and his tail comes to a stop. Eyeing the bat-man for a moment, he looked back at Rachel. "You...really don't know?" Well...they didn't seem like they would hurt her, for the moment at least. She kept a hand on the railing though, just in case. The furry man(?) who had called himself Lucas had spoken to her as if there was nothing unusual about the situation at hand, and appeared to be wagging a tail? That was at least until the long-fingered guy spoke up. He apparently had no problem with the appearance of Lucas, which she found a little unnerving. Then the very furry Lucas addressed her again, with a question.
"Know what?" she asked cautiously, her body posture tense. She was beginning to wish she hadn't left her room that morning."Ah...s**t...um...you wanna take this one...Luke...I mean, Lucas. Last time I did...well it didn't end too well," he says as he gives a nervous grin.
"Oh...name's Tommy by the way," he says to both of them, "Tommy Christian...and...Vampire bat in case you're wondering...but I'm sure Lucas'll explain it better than I can."Now he was reading her body language. The tenseness in her shoudlers and the This was the first time Lucas had encountered an Islander who did not know the truth. And...was she scared of him?
"Take this one?" Lucas turned to Tommy, giving him an alarmed look. What was he to say? What made Tommy think Lucas could handle this better than he could? 'Oh hey, um, geez... yeah, you're going to turn into an animal. So say goodbye to humanity!'
He thought better of getting into an arguement with the Vampire bat about who was better suited to give this girl the bad news. The last thing she needed to see was the Wolfman and Dracula fighting.
"Um... I know I look weird. Him, too," he jerked a thumb at Tommy. "We're harmless, though. I mean... I know we look weird, but we're really human." He sighed, raking fingers through his brown hair. "We didn't use to look like this. Moreau, the guy who owns this place? He did this to us. He is turning us into animals. Vampire bats and...I guess a dog. We're experiments." He gestured toward himself and Tommy. This wasn't going well. Would she even believe anything he's saying? He looked to other man, clearly searching for some help."Tommy Christian...and...Vampire bat..." she had heard the long-fingered man say. Vampire Bat? What on earth does he mean by that? she thought, but didn't have to wait long before Lucas began attempting to explain.
Rachel listened silently as Lucas laid things out before her, the only indication she was listening were her eyes that were growing slowly wider. Moreau? The damn CEO doctor that had dragged her here? He was doing experiments on people, turning them into animals? No...there was no way...
"I must still be asleep," Rachel said to herself, when Lucas paused, pinching the bridge of her nose where it met her forehead, and closing her eyes as if she had a headache.
"This all has to be some crazy dream..." "Well...I can see how you'd think that...I mean, I've got gigantic ears and hands...and fido over there's got tail to match his furry little friend...hell, I know what you mean. When I first got here I thought I was dead...but...uh...yeah, that's a long story. Anyway... Yeah... the short of it is that you're not dreaming and everything Lucas said right there is more or less completely true." He grins big, a nervous habit. How's she going to take this? Oh God...dont' scream...or run...Jesus, I don't think my ego can another hit like that.First Luke, now Fido. He gave Tommy an unamused look before returning his attention to Rachel.
"It's not a dream. As much as I would love to tell you to wake up.... As much as I would love to wake up back in my home with no fur, no tail..." he held out his arm to her, "I can't. This is real. See for yourself."There was a small assemblage of people there, standing in a not-so-tight clump in the village proper... but Emelyn, though she saw them, did not register their identities- or even give them a great deal of thought... not until after a certain canine caught her eye- and vice versa.
The brown and white spaniel mix, though he had not been with Emelyn since before her last change- recognized her as surely as the smell permeated his canid nostrils. He went into a spasm of joy, running with abandon towards the woman.
"Reuben!" Em called out, taking a few striding steps forward then kneeling down on the earth to welcome the beast with a great hug, which also had the purpose of slightly holding his insistant wiggles and tongue at bay. The dog was so excited he looked as if he might shake himself to pieces. Rachel opened her eyes again and dropped her hand, staring at the two. Are they really serious? she asked herself, trying to absorb the information. Lucas offered his arm to her to confirm the truth of their statements, and Rachel found herself struggling with whether or not to touch it, when the puppy went bounding away.
In the time they had been talking, dawn was coming ever nearer, and the village was slowly becoming more lit. Rachel's gaze followed the small dog to...
What on earth? Is...was....that a person? Rachel's grip on the bannister grew tighter, her knuckles turning white as she took in the sight of Emelyn.Tommy frowns as he sees the dog bound off. Is that...? Damn, it's been a while...she looks different. He just smiles softly in Em's direction and nods. "Heya..." he says quietly before looking down at the ground in embarrassment. For what, he couldn't say...he just felt it. It was then he noticed Rachel's expression, "Oh...s**t, hey...um...lady...you alright? I uh...I think you should sit down. I know how much of a shock this is. Hell, we all do." His arm remained outstretched for her to inspect in anyway she wanted. But as he waited there for any kind of reaction, any movement, he wondered if he should say more. "I know it's a lot to take in-"
When Reuben took off again, he was cut short. Pulling back his arm, he was about to call the dog back when he caught sight of a familiar figure. There was no mistaking the spines.
"Emelyn!" He hurried over to her, stopping a step away from her. It had been a while since she disappeared. He had recently heard she was back in the village. He felt bad for not going to see her. However, he hadn't been sure if he should. She must have known Reuben was still with him, and yet she hadn't come by to retrieve him. "I'm glad you are out and okay.""Lucas!" She looked up at the sound of his voice, only to be met with a face that was both familiar and completely different, all at once. The exclamation was half surprise at his new form- and at seeing him at all- and half joy at seeing her friend. She would have said more- but Tommy's voice drew her to what was happening, and the sight of a girl who looked likely to drop to the ground at any moment.
"Are you...alright?" Em said, not thinking for even a moment through all the excitement that the girl might not be familiarized with the island yet. It was then that she noticed that the figure that the banister supported was a veritable waif of a person- a sickly sprite that might blow away at any moment. Rachel barely heard Tommy and Emelyn through the fog of her brain that was quickly turning to blackness. Her brain and body couldn't take all of this. She felt her knees start to buckle and her grip loosened on the rail as the darkness consumed her and body crumpled beneath her. Tommy being the noble soul (at least in his own mind) that he is, quickly attempts to catch the falling woman. "******** hell!" he yelps out as he lunges for her.He noted her surprised and scratched beind his ear, feeling a little uncomfortable. Emelyn's own change did not come as a surprise to him. The labtech he spoke to had already informed him. To him, not much had changed about the woman. More spines, longer muzzle, she looked like a half-woman, half-hedgehog before and still did. He had never seen or known her as anything else.
Ear flickering, Lucas turned in time to see Rachel start to collapse. "Oh man..." he started to run, but knew he would never get there in time to stop her fall. Fortunately Tommy lunged forward at the same time to catch her. "Is she okay?" Emelyn stood, her eyes wide as time slowed down for a moment... as it always seemed to do in such situations- but before she could move forward to try and attend to the girl, Reuben... somewhat less than gallantly... beat her to it.
The dog bounded over to where the frighteningly thin woman lay crumpled in Tommy's arms. He sniffed at her and barked, wagging his tail with the excitement that was caused by all the fuss. The quick motion had drawn his attention, and now he tried to jump up to put his paws on her, or Tommy.Rachel would have fallen to the ground, but was rescued by Tommy's quick reaction. As he felt her weight fall into his arms, he would probably notice how very light she was for her height and should have no trouble supporting her. Reuben's barking was not enough for the time being to bring her back, although her breathing and heartrate were steady.Tommy breathes a sigh of relief as he catches and supports Rachel. For the slightest of moments there is an intense hunger in his eyes but it is blinked away as soon as it came into being. "Christ...that's the second goddamn time that's happened..." he mutters out. It's at this point the cute bundle of fur (no, not Lucas) came bounding toward them and pawed for attention on Tommy's jeans. "Calm down boy, I got her alright..." he says softly as he looks over the unconscious woman. "Goddamn...she's light as a feather...hey...miss, you alright?" he says to Rachel even though he was positive she wouldn't hear him. At least he knew she was still breathing and had a heart rate. Even without the clear sign of her chest slowly inhaling and exhaling, his ears pick up the steady rhythm of her heart at this close. Joining Tommy, Lucas knelt down beside him and pulled Reuben away. "Calm down, boy." While scratching behind the dog's ear, he looked over Rachel, then up at Tommy. "Well... it didn't go that bad. She didn't get out the torch and pitchfork or run away screaming." He gave the bat a weak smile.
That could have gone better.
"What should we do with her?""Ohh..." Emelyn breathed a sound of realization that was born from Lucas' statement. The girl was new to the island, and likely her fall was due to the shock. She stepped forward and clapped once, then issued a sharp whistle. It was the 'get behind me' signal, created mostly for the possibility of danger arising in the jungle and Emelyn hoped that the dog would recognize it. It had been a long time since she'd used it with the animal, or even spent much time with him, so she didn't know how well he'd respond. Her doubts were unfounded, however- the canine returned to the earth on all four feet and scurried around behind the hedgehog woman, his tail wagging. With Reuben thusly occupied, if only for a moment, she was free to see the situation.
"Erm... I'd say just take her back to her duplex- I think it's just shock that she fainted from..." she sighed, "but with someone as slight as her, I don't think we should take any chances. ...Who wants to take her to the labs?" It was a rueful word, and she didn't like saying it. Tommy looks over to Em and then back to Rachel, "The...the labs? I uh...s**t...I mean, I'm sure they would've sent someone if she was in real danger...right?" he trails off as he looks over the skinny girl, "I...*sigh* yeah...you're right...I've never been there before though..."The dog-man lifted his head at Emelyn's whistle and watched as Reuben walked around and waited behind the hedgehog. He laughed, shaking his head. "How I wish I had known about that little trick." And here he had been under the impression that the dog had no training whatsover.
He stood up, brushing off the dirt from his pants. "Question is, which is her duplex?" He hadn't seen her leave any of them. It was possible the one in front of them was her's, but it wasn't certain. The idea of going around the Village trying doors and potentially scaring other Islanders from their sleep didn't really appeal to him. There was a little surprise when Emelyn suggested the labs, but he understood her thinking.
"I know the way to the labs. I can take her." Her smile was apologetic as she realized how much work Reuben must have been for Lucas. Now was not the forum for her thank you's- but she seized on his latest statement as an opportunity to do so.
"I'll come with you." Rachel heard voices through the fog in her mind, she even thought she heard one of them asking her if she was alright. The voices continued talking and started to mention laps....labs? Her brain struggled to make a connection she knew was there, as she started to work her way towards semi-conciousness. Rachel's eyelids fluttered, and she turned her head slightly as she started to come around. Tommy felt movement in his arms and looks down to see Rachel start to stir. He lets out a sigh of relief and grins at her. "Hey there...how're you feeling?" he asks newly conscious woman, not thinking about how the look of his half-bat face so close to her own would affect her. He's just thankful that maybe he won't have to go near the labs...ever. Before Lucas could respond to Emelyn, Rachel began to stir. "Hey, welcome back. You okay?" he spoke softly, but did not bend down again. He didn't want to crowd her and left her with plenty of space to stand, or even flee if she wanted. Though, he hoped she didn't. Just having a girl looking at him fearfully had already taken his self-esteem down a notch. And it was already pretty low since his change.
At least he wouldn't have to carry her all the way to the labs.Emelyn stood back out of respect for the girl's nerves. She was glad to see her waking up, but still looked down on the thin form with concern; it was hard not too, with such a visage. Reuben came alongside Emelyn with a happy sniff, but didn't venture past the hedgehog woman's legs.Rachel blinked several times more, trying to get her eyes into focus, to see who was talking to her, only to have them focus on Tommy's face. She took in a startled breath, but immediately regained control, groaning slightly as she put a hand to her head.
"I'll...be fine," she replied to the queries after a moment, shifting her weight from Tommy to her own feet, still using his support to help herself balance.
"So...I didn't dream it all then?" she asked, letting herself look at the three people next to her, the reality of it all begining to set in. She allowed herself to wonder a moment what these people must have looked like before, but pushed it from her mind, knowing better than to dwell on things like that.Tommy just smiles sadly as he lets her get back to her feet, "Oh God I wish I could say you were, ma'am...but sadly, it's just not in the cards." He looks back over to Em and then Lucas, "I...*sigh* I'll catch you guys later...it's getting light out soon and I need to get some sleep."
He looks back to Rachel once more, "It can be scary out here sometimes...if you need anything, just remember...the name's Tommy. Duplex 54." He then turns to head back to what he sadly calls his home. He echoed Tommy. "I'm sorry, but it's not a dream." He slipped his hands into his pockets. Had she put two and two together? Should he tell her that she, too, was now a subject and would change just like them? He really didn't want to be the one to do it. What if she fainted again?
"Good-er... See you later, Tommy." He nodded to the bat, as he turned to leave."I'm afraid not, sweetheart," Emelyn said, surprised to hear an almost motherly tone come out of her muzzle at the girl's words. She still hadn't stepped forward, but rather, dropped down and wrapped her arms around the dog, partially because she'd missed the furry beast, and partially because a part of her realized it might make her look a little less like an animal herself.
"I'm Emelyn," she said. She looked up at Lucas. "I'm sure the... red man has introduced himself." A slight smile crossed her muzzle's 'lips' for Lucas' sake. "What's your name?" "Thank you Tommy," Rachel said quietly, offering a smile for the first time since she woke up this morning. The incident had taken her usual anti-social hostility out of her for the moment. She watched as he wandered off to his own room, before turning back to the other two. She seated herself on the nearby stairs, not quite trusting her legs to hold her for long periods yet, nodding at their answer to her question. The dark haired girl wasn't quite sure whether the confirmation made her feel better or worse.
"Hi Emelyn. I'm Rachel" she said, cracking another small smile, before nodding to Lucas. "Yes, Lucas introduced himself."
Her expression turned sour after a moment as the realization hit her. "So...I'm going to be like you guys, aren't I?" The corner of his mouth curled into a smile. Red man, huh? At least she didn't call him 'Fido'.
After Rachel spoke and asked her question, Lucas glanced toward Emelyn, then crouched down. He decided to come right out and say it. "Yes." He sighed. "Everyone who comes to the Island is the next test subject for Moreau's experiments. They adminster a shot to you, which is the first injection in the process, then leave you here in the Village." He sent another look toward Emelyn. This young girl had to have family waiting for her on the mainland. How could he tell her she'd never see them again?
One thing at a time. "I'm sorry sweetheart. None of us are here by our own will, no." She couldn't think to say much else. "I guess this is the 'treatment' I came here for," she said grimly, leaning forward and resting her head and arms on her knees. She didn't need Lucas to tell her she'd never see her family again. It was written all over their faces and it didn't make sense that the doctor would let people free, showing exactly what he'd been doing.
Rachel glanced over at Emelyn for a moment, a thought crossing her mind. That was the second time she had been called "sweetheart" by the woman who had turned into a....hedgehog? porcupine? How old did they think she was? Rachel didn't exactly mind, she was just wondering why Emelyn seemed to like the term when speaking to her. After a short period of silence, Rachel spoke again.
"So....how do we know.....? What we're turning into I mean," she amended quickly.
"And how soon?" her brow creased in thought. She wanted to know how much time she had, before... "I've been told you have the option of asking what you are turning into. Just call the labs on the intercom in your duplex." He fidgeted, his arms first being crossed over his chest, then he would let them rest limply at his sides, eventually his hands found their way into his pockets. Then it would start all over again, all the while his tail would occasionally flick behind him.
Her second question he wasn't sure on. "I don't know. It took three weeks for me." He looked to Emelyn. "I don't remember," she said lamely when Lucas looked at her to answer. "It's been a while. But it's not...especially long, if I can recall." She nodded at Lucas again. "A few weeks sounds about right."
It was hard to look at Rachel. She was so small, so frail- at any moment, Emelyn half expected the gumball bones that were her wrists, and the knobs of her knuckes to pop free from her dark skin and roll across the packed dirt ground of the village proper. It brought out the mothering instinct in Emelyn- or at least, some other such instinct that could be housed under the heading of 'Want to tie her down and feed her'."Hmm....maybe I'll have to ask them..." she said quietly, mainly to herself. She didn't really like surprises, let alone unpleasant ones. At least the two people sitting in front of her didn't seem to be turning anything too bad...
If you have to turn into anything at all, she thought darkly. Whatever she had expected for her 'treatment,' it certainly hadn't been this. And a few weeks was so little time...That's all she had left to be herself? Would she be able to gymnastics anymore? All the information was finally starting to get to her, and it was almost too much to take in.
"It seems so impossible...." she finally said, rubbing her temples lightly. "It's going to take me a while to get used to the idea..."Lucas debated for a moment stepping over to her and placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but decided against it. It was difficult to say how she'd react to it. He didn't want to frighten her or cause her to faint for a second time. Rachel was so far the youngest person on the Island he had come across. And she also looked like she was possibly ill. What were the labs thinking? This bothered him.
"If you ever need anything you can contact me. I'm in duplex 57." "And I'm in Duplex 8. And really... take all the time you need to 'get used to the idea'." She would be on the island all her life, Emelyn knew- and the longer period of denial she allowed herself, the longer she might grasp onto her previous life. Though, how wonderful was her life, that she martyred herself to live in this shruken skeleton of a body? Em only bit the lip on her muzzle, not knowing either way- how wrong Moreau was to bring her here. "Thank you, both of you. I'm at the one at the top of the stairs...I think it's 76." Rachel sighed resignedly, not really wanting to think about it anymore. Normally, she would have gone ahead on the jog she had been planning on, to clear her head, but she knew better than that after having fainted.
Maybe later today, her obsessive mind told her as she pushed on the railing and stood herself up, planning on heading back up the stairs to her room, when she noticed Emelyn's expression.
"Is something wrong? I mean...besides what we've been talking about?" Rachel asked her.The dhole watched her stand, ready to give his goodbyes so she could return to her room when Rachel stopped and asked her question. He turned to Emelyn."Nothing's wrong. I just don't like to see newcomers here. Under the circumstances, I wish we'd never met... Rachel." she chewed the word sweetheart, and its close companion, darling, in her mouth before she allowed them escape into the sentence. "No kidding," Rachel said sourly, in response to Emelyn's comment, before sighing again. She thought she sensed that there was more that Emelyn wasn't telling her, or maybe she was just being paranoid. It wouldn't have been the first time.
"Well...thank you for filling me in on my future, guys. I'm gonna go try and straighten my brain out, and think about asking what animal they've chosen for me...Maybe I'll run into you guys around here some time?" She tried to make herself mean it, but Rachel knew that there was a good chance there would be a while before they saw each other again. This chat was an exception for her, prefering more often to keep to herself. "Take care of yourself." He raised his hand a little in a small goodbye.
He also hoped that whatever animal she got was one she could live with.Emelyn nodded, mirroring Lucas' statement, "Yes, take care of yourself. I'm sure I'll see you about. And really- we meant it when we said you can come to us any time." Rachel smiled slightly at their well-wishes, giving a small wave in return. Maybe she would make herself go see them. She decided to extend an invitation to them as well, so they could come see her, just in case.
"Thanks, and you guys can drop by whenever, as well. I can't imagine I'll be a great many other places. Not until I know my way around a little better at least."
With a final wave, she headed the rest of the way up the stairs and opened the door to let herself in, calling back to the pair.
"Have a good day," she gave them a small smile before stepping inside and closing the door."You, too," he called after her, but she had already retreated into her room. However, after what they just had to tell her, somehow he couldn't imagine her having a good day now. At least it couldn't get any worse? Turning to Emelyn, he smiled a little. "Good to see you out and about." "Mm," she smiled, agreeing. "It's nice to be vertical. And to see this mutt again." She reached down and gave the beast, who was leaning against her leg with his tongue lolling from between his canine lips, a loving pat. Then she looked up again, and hardly knew how to begin. "Thank you... for everything. I don't remember a lot of what happened- the labs said that something about Joli's... well, the Komodo, anyway- made me mostly delirious. But I do remember what you did for me. So thank you." "You're welcome, Emelyn. I was glad I could be of some help to someone." He rubbed his neck. It was dawning on him now that things were dying down that Emelyn would be taking Reuben back now. He had know this from the beginning, and had told himself not to get attached, but it seems that, despite his efforts, he had grown fond of the dog. He stared down at Reuben smiling a little wider, then he lifted his head to Emelyn. "And don't worry about Reuben. He might have been a handful, but he was good company. It was fun to take care of him." "He really must have been a handful. Nasty mutt hasn't been inside since his lab days." She dropped down to her knees and took his ruff in her hands, moving it and scratching it as she spoke to him in that patented 'baby talk' way that she'd never used on an actual infant, only animals. "Were you a naughty puppy? Were you? Were you a big bad puppy for Lucas?" The tone of voice was thick with gobs of sweetness- though Em found it startlingly difficult to baby talk without being able to purse out her lips like a human's. The dog, in turn, only heard the tone- there were no recognizable words that he had learned to mind- and so, rattled his tail back and forth and struggled to lick Em's furry face. "Oi, Reu, quit it," she said, laughing and stretching her neck back. "...What was he like when you... changed? ...Reu, leave my muzzle alone." He laughed a little at her baby talk. "I tried to housetrain him. Not sure if he gets the idea completely. At least most of the time he scratches the door or complains if he wants out. At the question of his change, Lucas became quiet, the smile fading. He thought back and it didn't take long for him to recall what all had gone on. It only happened a short time ago, the memories still fresh, but he had tried pushing them from his thoughts since. "My change lasted for several hours. He was agitated the entire time and wouldn't come near me. Almost like he didn't know who I was or he was disturbed by the change. Maybe he sensed something I couldn't." There was a small shrug of the shoulders. "But once it was all over he seemed to calm down." There was a pause. "Why do you ask?" "Well," she explained, looking up from her position with her arms wrapped around the dog's neck, "it's just that you look rather canine to me. He's never met another canine, as far as I know. Well, maybe the labs. But not out here. So I was wondering how he'd reacted." It was also a way for her to know how the change had affected Lucas, and how he was holding up- in a way that would cause the man to talk about the transformation without feeling entirely self-conscious, or the need to put up a front. He winced a little, looking off to the side. "Yeah, I guess I'm some kind of canine. I don't know... I don't think he reacted differently toward me since the change. Just two dogs, hanging out together." He tried to laugh, but it came out more like an odd-sounding whistle, causing him to clamp a hand over his mouth. The sound struck her as the canine equivalent of those snorts you find yourself huffing out in the middle of an impromptu laugh, and it made Emelyn smile. "Well, I'm glad you two got along. And I'm sorry I didn't come to get him earlier. I was only released from the labs right before Halloween, and then the few times I stopped by you were out." What kind of sound was that? It was completely new to him. And he was more than a little embarassed doing it in front of someone else. He already didn't like letting animal sounds pass his lips when he was alone. It was part of his efforts to deny any of the new instincts or behaviors that were forming inside of him. He would just look like an animal. He wouldn't be one. "I'm sorry I missed you. I still have your things back at my duplex." And scratched his arm before he finally voiced his question. "Are you okay?" Her things. The diaries, the notebooks... Mizzie. Emelyn loosed her hold on the dog after giving him one final squeeze, and stood, her knees popping as she did. "I've been better. But I've been a hell of a lot worse, too." A self-depreciating grin crept onto her muzzle and she shrugged apologetically- after all, he had seen her 'a hell of a lot worse'. "But it's getting better. ..How about you?" "I'm glad things are getting better." He was still concerned, but he didn't doubt what she said. "Me? Oh, I'm fine. Just bored. Even with all the facilities here there's not a whole lot to do in this place. I've always wanted time to do things, but now that I'm here, the things I wanted time to do can't really be done anymore. Or there's really no point. I almost miss working at my jobs back home." He folded his arms over his chest. "God, I know what you mean. Sometimes I think that if I just had something reasonable to do I'd feel better. I mean... I don't want to go back out there," she cocked her chin in the direction of the jungle, "but at least there I always had something to worry about, something to take care of." Hearing that gave Lucas some relief to know that she wasn't still planning on returning to the jungle. The thought of anyone living out there worried him. "You've got him," he gestured toward Reuben. "But yes. Here we really have only one purpose, and that's to unwillingly help in advancing Moreau's research. Food and shelter is about all he probably thinks we need." Lucas sighed and spoke the rest under his breath. "I need more than that." She wasn't able to discern the exact sound of the words that he'd attached to the underbelly of his breath- but the sentiment was clear enough, and Emelyn nodded. "Me, too. I think we all need something to stir us up. Something positive," she corrected quickly. "I wish I could come up with something. With all this time on my hands you'd think..." He let his words hang in the air for a moment before simply shrugging. "Ah well." He looked up at Emelyn, then down at Reuben. "So you live in duplex 8? Should I drop your things by there sometime?" She nodded at his mention of her duplex number. "Are you headed somewhere now? I could come pick them up. ...I'm sorry to leave everything with you. I don't remember a lot about it, but if anything I did in my dreams really happened- I certainly owe you an apology." Emelyn thought about the torn up mattress, the blood on the walls, the torn nest of bedclothes and blankets in the closet, and the utterly destroyed mirror. She didn't recall that only the last of the destructive crimes was committed in Lucas' duplex. "Not really. I was just walking Reuben so he could...mark his territory. If you want to pick them up that's fine, but bringing them by is no trouble." He himself had assumed that Emelyn was on her way somewhere since she was out so early. "And don't worry about it." He waved away the apology. He wondered what exactly she did recall. "Dreams?" She looked down at Reuben, who had since run around her legs and nearer to Lucas. The dog seemed to flit between them- torn with the need for both of their affection in the most angst-free way possible. Emelyn didn't know whether to call the spaniel-mix closer to her, or to let him continue to pester Lucas- but in the end, the red, canine-like man's words drew her attention away from the dog. "Mm," she said, finally, leaving Reuben to his own devices, "The delusional part... what the labs said," she said, making light note of her earlier, brief foray into what had happened in her life the past few weeks. "And no, it would be trouble- you've done enough, really." She laughed. "Above and beyond the call of duty. ...I can pick them up whenever." Noting Reuben near his leg, Lucas reached down and scratched the dog on the top of his head. He had hoped that his question about her dreams might lead into what they had been, but he took her brief reply as a hint that she did not want to talk about it. "We can go and collect them now, if you aren't on your way somewhere." She smiled- a gesture that her muzzle was only yet getting the hang of. "Great. That'd be great. I was just out to try and find something to do." "Okay, it's this way," he pointed in the direction of his duplex. Emelyn was unaccustomed to walking in silence- however, Reuben's antics almost demanded a lack of conversation as the dog dipped and ran in between them, then ran ahead at several paces at a time, chasing imaginary dust motes about the village proper. All Emelyn could muster was an intent watch of the dog, and short, almost huffing laughs that punctuated his canine insanity. As they walked towards his duplex, Em managed only a few smiles at her walking companion, a silent thank you again for taking care of Reu. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the mutt.
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Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 12:42 pm
Moving On... She leaned against her dresser, elbows up atop the sturdy, undecorated wood: the piece of furniture was not terribly tall- it needn't be, for Emelyn White had always been a small-to-average woman. Ironically, though she was now the largest hedgehog that had ever lived... she was still a small-to-average woman, at best. Joining her elbows atop the dresser, a small collection of treasures sat- expecting nothing, but giving off a faint, golden-grey glow of memories. The wooden jewelry box had been through the salty ocean waters, storms, and every element upon Hell Island, in one way or another. The outside showed the wear, but inside, after Emelyn had pulled up the water-soaked velvet and thrown it away, the contents had been protected. There was a pair of gold-washed hoop earrings and a matched pair of manmade emeralds, both of which were rather useless now, since the holes in Emelyn's ears had filled in after her second change. The only other thing in the box was the most important- a string of small, salty pearls: a beautiful reminder of a woman she had never known. Wilhemina White was the rare sort who could project love and allegiance beyond the grave: Emelyn had grown up with the presence of the portrait of the woman above the mantle always in her life. Perhaps it was Grandpa John's refusal to forget the love of his life, keeping her eclectic, mismatched furniture about the house and quoting her words and remarking on the trifles of her life as if she were in the next room, rather than long buried. After her death, Grandpa John had taken in the essense of his wife- adding everything that she was to his life, particularly in raising the two little girls that his son had left behind. More than once, Em or Mizz would ask for something or do something wrong, and they could almost see the argument going on within him: he'd juxtapose what he knew his wife would have said with his own reservations- and more often than not, allow her voice of sweet, carefree reason to prevail. That, too, was why the granddaughters she had never known loved her so: she was always on 'their side'. Both girls had received something of their grandmother at a young age: for Emelyn, the oldest, her pearls, a sign of ageless beauty and maturity, and for Mizzie, a teardrop sapphire ring the color of a Siamese's eye- simple, beautiful, and pure. Emelyn reached out with a clawed, furred finger, and touched the edge of the rope of pearls, tugging it gently. Her reminder was here. Mizzie's... was with her. Buried, forever wrapped around her finger where she lay- only two plots away from the woman whose ring it had been, originally. They were all there- a row of buried Whites. Her parents were buried in Wisconsin. Emelyn had never given any thought to where she may one day... end up. But now, it was almost a terrible realization to know she would never lay with Mizzie again. The last White had been buried in Rhode Island- the next... would she find herself nearer to Sean, and Fiona? Emelyn found her eyes, now away from the dresser... fixed upon the picture at her bedside. Mizzie: everything she missed, everything she longed for- now, she seemed so far away, that Emelyn wondered if she was still in mourning, or if she had... if not accepted her death, at least lived with it for long enough that now it seemed far away- inevitable. Maybe it was enough... that she loved Mizzie, and always would. She looked back to the jewelry box- to what she had of Grandma Wilhemina, then back at Mizzie. She stood then, for a moment, until she realized that something was missing- both in her heart, and in this silent reminder of everything that had passed. Emelyn White took from her forehead a pair of aviator goggles- the brown, weathered leather straps barely clinging to the metal eyes. She ran a clawed finger over them- ever so gently. They were more than what they were; she kissed them. Then she placed them in the open jewelry box, next to the pearls. For they were also less than they were... and all that they were. These quiet, grey-gold memories of the three people in her life now gone: Mizzie, Grandma Wilhemina, and Grandpa John- watched the girl with a loving silence as she called her dog to her side from where he'd sat next to the door, and walked from the duplex... leaving them behind. 
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Posted: Wed Dec 20, 2006 3:57 pm
Emelyn White does always have good days. Some mornings she wakes up and looks in the mirror and does not see herself, despite the kindness of her serum in comparison to so many of the others that had been forcibly peddled to the islanders. Some mornings the sun comes through the window of her duplex and startles the hedgehog awake, and she opens her eyes and thinks "I will hate this day". Sometimes a bad day is brought about by the circumstances that perpetrate it. Other times it takes only those split-seconds and sunbeams in the morning minutes that somehow suggest the invisible but inevitable: it will be a bad day. The morning five days before Christmas on Hell Island was one of those days. When Emelyn woke up with her legs roasting in the heat from the dog that had prostrated himself over them and a strange frown already on her face, she knew it was going to be a bad day. She didn't stay in bed for long- that sort of lingering respite was only for sweet mornings. "Get off, Reuben." She kicked her legs and jostled the mutt from his warm spot, and continued to groan and shift her legs until the dog leapt from the bed. "Good god." She held her forehead, squeezing it with her palm as if tugging a headache (which she did not have) free. Her hedgehog-like hand remained there as she sloughed herself free of the sheets and stood, wavering, on the duplex floor. Then she occupied herself with getting dressed and kicking her legs out idly at the dog as he leaned against her shins, hungry for affection. He was hungry for food, also- and that irritated Emelyn too, this day; she would have to go outside to feed him, and even if she did not feel like lingering in bed, somehow in this mood she managed to chalk the need to leave the duplex to being Reuben's fault. So although the purpose of getting dressed and heading outside was for him, she felt a strange, shallow bitterness take hold and keep her from paying the dog any mind- as if to punish him. It was in this mood that she left her duplex. The goggles she had worn so lovingly the past year were left on the dresser; she had not worn them since that day a week or so prior. Before her birthday. She was 22. She had been for three days. Emelyn slammed the door behind her, startling the dog but pretending not to notice as they headed down the stairs.
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Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 1:38 pm
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Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 10:50 pm
((*hopes it's okay to post*)) Left outside your door is a small package, which appears to be a white trash bag and some red ribbon tied around it. Inside are two new bikini tops, similar to the one she already wears, but both are colored different shades of blue. There is also a pair of blue shorts inside with a place for her small tail to poke through. Underneath that is a pillow with different colors that might remind someone of the sea. There are also a few pieces of chocolate and hard fruit candy, along with a box of milkbones that are for Reuben. There is also a note in the bag. Quote: Sorry for the lousy wrapping. I wasn't sure what to get or make for you. I hope these are okay and that they fit you. Take care of yourself and Reuben and have a Merry Christmas.
-Lucas
PS. If any adjustments need to be made let me know.
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Posted: Mon Dec 25, 2006 11:27 pm
A decent-sized geode half has been left by the door of your duplex. It appears to have been cleaned off very recently, and the crystals have distinct color even when not being held up to light. There is no note.
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Posted: Tue Dec 26, 2006 12:03 am
Another box left on Em's doorstep:
Inside is a dress, specal ordered obviously. From the front it's rather normal, slinky and with a slit up on leg. Navy blue, with a tasteful amount of beadwork to give it a glimmer. The back, however, is nothing but an intricate matrix of strings, meant to fit between her spines to allow her to wear the dress without distorting in the front.
There's also a fine leather collar with a silver plate that says "Reuben" in big letters, with "Duplex 8 " engraved in smaller block letters underneith.
There's no note, just a simple "From A. Lockheart" on a gift tag.
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Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 6:50 am
Cody Archer In front of the door of your duplex lies a small gift wrapped in regular paper by a string. There are some words scribbled with ordinary pen, saying: "Merry Xmas. From Cody"
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