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Welcome To The Island

A helicopter. He’d had to take a helicopter to go all the way to some island, just to discuss this whole mess with some higher-up. Leaning against a crisp white wall, sitting on a crisp metal stool, Brian ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing his temples with a muffled groan. He had a nasty headache, and there were dark circles under his eyes. Too many sleepless nights because of this thing, too many unanswered questions. This couldn’t be real. This had to be some sort of mistake.

He still didn’t understand why they couldn’t have just sent him a bloody email to explain!

It was crazy that they had gone to the effort of carrying him over an ocean to some distant headquarters. Crazy, and very, very suspicious. If this really was no big deal, a misunderstanding like he’d been assured by one official after another, then it wouldn’t need to be addressed in such an over-the-top manner. But then, he had threatened to go to the government with his fears.

God, and if they were testing on humans? Using animal DNA for God knows what vile purpose? Possibilities raced through his mind, possibilities he’d already mulled over for the two weeks it’d taken them to finally arrange this meeting. Chemical warfare. Pre-natal alteration. Manipulation of the basest of human instincts, maybe the removal of it? Brian shuddered, his mind flickering through pages of novels where science strove to control the populace. It could be one of a number of things.

But he couldn’t jump to conclusions. He was just being stupid. He had to give them a chance to explain what the bizarre requests were for, what the insistent questions meant, and above all, what the ambiguous words on the back of a misplaced sheet of paper signified. Oh but damn, did his head hurt! Too much to think about, too much to worry about.

How many people were silenced so that big corporations could continue to rake in profits by exploiting nature and humankind? Would he become just another statistic? Another forgotten martyr? And most importantly, would they happen to have any Advil in this extravagant doctor’s office they’d plunked him in?? Nervously, he ran his calloused fingers over the worn handle of his leather briefcase, as if to reassure himself that it was still there at his feet.

Brian, luckily enough for him (in a very small scheme of things), wasn't kept waiting long on the sterile stool in the room. The click of the doorhandle across from him signalled the entrance of a rather eccentric-looking individual. A man donned in a very oldfashioned dark suit and tophat and shock-white hair tied back in a ponytail stepped into the room with a formal smile. Clashing with the somber suit of a bygone day was a very modern white labcoat worn overtop the clothing, and reminding Brian that above all, he was at a research facility.

"I apologize for the wait, Mr. Grant. Usually, I see to the arrival of our guests personally, but I was held up this afternoon with some... projects." He said with a subtle French accent as he extended his hand. "My name is Dr. Sabin Duvert, and I'm a senior project head here at the facilities."

If Brian had had any expectations of just what would come through that door, they were nothing like this Dr. Duvert. The French name (and accent) peaked his interest, and for a moment he wondered if he’d somehow missed that Feral Labs was a French-owned company? But no, he knew it wasn’t. It was another big United States company. They just happened to have one guy working the labs who was French, possibly French-Canadian. This notion warmed him, and in the second it took for all of these thoughts to dance between his ears, Brian stood to shake the proffered hand. His grip was firm and solid, rather opposite of his state of mind at that moment.

“Mr. Duvert,” he said, clearing his throat, “Thank you for meeting me. I’m sure you’ve been told that I’m really rather concerned over this-” Nonsense? Confusion? Mess? “…ordeal.”

Sabin nodded, a warm smile on his face and a firm reply to Brian's handshake.

"Yes, I'm glad to be able to get this sorted out in person. I know that your mind must have been ill at ease with the... note was it? That made it to your hands." He commented as he took a seat across from him on the other side of the table.

"Now... just for clarification.. you say that you received a handwritten note from our offices that was forwarded to you from your central office? Do you bychance have the note on you?"

Click! Went the briefcase. Keeping his eyes trained across the desk, Brian opened his single piece of luggage with a smooth familiarity and gave him little comfort. The paper was out in a moment and sat innocently glaring at him from between his hands. It seemed, in the face of this whole thing, insignificant, small, and terribly, terribly impish. That single piece of paper had caused him more stress than he’d encountered since 1989 when Shiva, the alpha of a wolf pack he’d been tracking, was struck by a transport truck in the prime of her life.

“Here it is,” he said, and wished he could say something stronger to that damn sheet. Here is the criminal, he longed to declare, the perpetrator of this heinous crime. Take it away, bailiff! “It’s a little creased,” Brian muttered instead, apology in his tone. “I didn’t want to leave it out of my sight.”

Sabin nodded emphatically, though his eyes remained glued to the offending slip of paper. Taking it carefully, his eyes scanned the line of text as a crease formed between his brows.

He recognised the handwriting. How could he not? He was one of the few individuals at the labs who preferred to keep handwritten notes as opposed to notetaking on laptops or PDAs. He remembered the troubling fact that was written for all to see on this paper, but not troubling in the way that it vexed Brian. The canine serums on the island DID seem to be taking a firmer hold of the subjects, at the very least physically, than many of the other - frequently more bizarre serums. Was it because the mammals were not all that different from humans? Or was it something else about the animals that seemed to overprint their DNA so ... thoroughly on the test subjects. Ignatius and Maurlias had progressed much further than anticipated. And DiRossi was as far along at 75% as most subjects were expected to be in the end. But at least the problems weren't like those for the felines, almost all of whom had developed at least some psychological ... "eccentricity" at best.

He had sent this along, to be transcribed and relayed to the research team that they were funding on the canid studies.... NOT to be sent in its entirety. Who had made such a glaring oversight? How had this made it out of the mail check? This was entirely unacceptable. While to many it might be treated as a joke, considering the lack of evidence present, to people like Brian who had enough information to piece together some troubling facts, it could be damning.

He shook his head. First thing to try... "I don't know how this got to you, to be perfectly honest, Mr. Grant. I'm sorry, is it Doctor?" He raised his eyes from the paper for the first time since it was handed to him, feigning innocence. It made the situation less creepy. "Perhaps this is some staffmember's idea of a joke... I hope that this wasn't blown out of proportion back home." He began, trying to sound unconcerned. "Have a lot of people seen the note?"

The question immediately set Brian into a defensive state of mind. It was of some significance to the company, then. "A joke?" He repeated, incredulity laced thickly in just the two words. "Doctor, nobody sends transcontinental mail from the headquarters of a professional institute, especially not one with a reputation for hiring only the most competent of staff," the biologist asserted. He remembered all too well the thrill with which he learned these things doing research on the company after the job offer. From what he knew, it was not the sort of company that would look twice at someone who engaged in practical jokes, let alone hire such a person. "Doctor Duvert, if you intend for me to take you seriously, you had better start taking me seriously." He was edgy. He was tired. He'd had way too much time to imagine the nasty things rich companies could do with his research if they really tried. Think happy thoughts! This couldn't be as bad as it looked. He inhaled slowly, noisily, to calm himself, and waited for this doctor to answer him.

Sabin figured that that poor excuse wouldn't fly with the man, but it was worth the effort. Equally flimsy excuses had held in the past with some indivduals, and it was always at least somewhat interesting to gauge peoples' reactions to such statements. Many clung to the fervent hope that everything was going to be 'okay' and 'normal', and would believe the excuses even if they were transparent over a darker truth.

Sabin spread his hands and nodded. "I see that you are a man of intelligence, and I will not patronize you or try to ease your obviously troubled thoughts with placations. You can probably surmise that this facility is conducting some highly confidential experiments, and the letter you received is nothing less than a severe breach of our security. You must understand my concern for how many individuals are privy to the content of that letter."

It was everything Brian anticipated hearing, everything he loathed to hear. He didn't want to be there that second, he wanted to be crouching in some bush with a pair of binoculars glued to his eyes and gnats buzzing in his ears, trying to catch sight of something other than a top-secret illegal experiment. But he couldn't escape it. So he would have to face it. Fight or flight? Flight was no longer an option.

"I took it to my superior, Julia Locke. She read it a few times, swore, and ran to the next office dialling her cellphone," the calm, dry quality of voice that he chose to deliver this information with clearly said, 'So don't worry, she's on your team.' "She arranged for me to get in contact with one of her superiors, who referred me to one of their superiors, and so on and so forth until I ended up here, Mr.- forgive me- Dr. Duvert. Locke is the only person besides me who's actually seen it. That I know of."

Sabin nodded curtly once, absorbing this information with a slight narrowing of his eyes. He'd relay the information to the spin artists at the company and make sure that everything else was smoothed over, but from the sounds of it, the threat had been contained already.

"No one likes to hear that they have not been privvy to all that is going on, Brian." Sabin began, choosing his first name and speaking carefully to him. "Especially when they have been participating in legally ambiguous research. I understand that you are concerned about what has been done with the research and samples that you have so diligently procured for us. And I can't begin to express how it has helped our own projects just as we have helped yours."

Just spit it out, he desperately wanted to say. Instead, unwillingly, his thoughts drifted to all the experiences he'd had in his job with Feral Labs. The encounters, the knowledge, and the research he needed for his book. Not to mention the paychecks. Still… "If anything illegal is going on in these facilities," he said, a hint of waver in his tone as he became less sure of himself, "I'm going to have to resign from my position." And tell the authorities, his eyes declared. He glanced quickly at the piece of paper, which suddenly switched from the role of tormentor to saviour. How would he prove anything was going on if his only evidence (besides the awful feeling in his gut) was in the hands of the company?

Sabin bit down slightly on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from rolling his eyes. Ah, the 'normal legal procedures'. How quaint.

He slid his hands down to his lap and shifted his position in the chair to one that seemed more relaxed and less formal. "Technically speaking, Brian, we're out of the US on a privately owned island. We're out of the United States' jurisdiction. And you must understand that many of the legal restrictions back on mainland are antiquated or misguided. Progress that could be healing millions; stem cell research, genetic altercations... there is so much potential that is squanched by such regulations."

"If this is all I was brought here for," the man said, his knees trembling slightly from both mental and physical exhaustion, "Then can it wait until I've had a while to sleep and get some food? Otherwise, I urge you to be more concise, doctor. Helicopter rides don't tend to be conducive to rest or relaxation, especially not those that last eight hours, or what seemed like it. I'm not in the state of mind for this moral debate, and I came here to get answers." He took a breath, steadied himself, and ran his thumb across the curve of his briefcase handle. He could do this. "Just what exactly has the purpose of all my research been? Will you at least tell me what the last three years of my life have gone towards?"

The smile that settled across Sabin's mouth was anything but reassuring. "I will do you one better, Mr. Grant. I will show you what your research has gone towards. What it has brought forth." The gleam in his eye changed quickly from bemusemed to malignant.

There was the sound of a muted shot fired from under the table and immediately afterwards, a jabbing pain in Brian's leg. He would have enough time to look under the table to see a tufted tranquilizer dart protruding from his leg - very similar to the ones used in the field with large animals... and then his vision swam... and darkness.

It was with a groan that Brian lifted his head from the starchy pillow, a miserable grunt shortly following. What the... hell? The wildlife biologist blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up, cracking his back in fifteen places with sequential pop-pop-pops. Ngh. His awakening-ritual completed, Brian set about exploring his habitat. How on earth had he gotten here? Last he checked, he was in a research facility on a jungle island in the middle of the ocean.

Momentary panic clasped his chest. His briefcase. Where was it??

Oh, right there. Getting to his feet and ignoring the urge to kick off his shoes (oh, but his toes were clammy in his socks), he went to the desk and opened his briefcase. With a sigh, he realised everything was still there. Everything but the paper. Fingering his worn and loved paperback copy of Howls of August, he took a second look around and saw the piece of stationary waiting for him on the nightstand.

Setting the book back down, he reached across to snatch the note. He read quickly, his mouth creasing into a thin line. This could mean anything. Maybe he would just have to tolerate a week or so appraising whatever breakthroughs they'd discovered, sign a contract promising he wouldn't tell anyone, and then go home. Maybe he could go back to school and take up medicine and become a vetrinarian. It'd be infinately less perilous than working for these people.

He spent an hour or so exploring his residence, starting with the bathroom. Brian took a few minutes to inspect himself in the mirror after the shower he so desperately needed; something about not remembering just when the conversation had ended and how he got to this room unnerved him. He felt violated, somehow, and he couldn't put his finger on it. Then he bumped his arm against the towel rack, and with a loud expletive of pain, he realised what it was. The mark of an injection.

He'd had far too many vaccinations in his travels and field-work to not recognise it. A cold fear ran rampant through him, and he sat down on the cold lid of the toilet so suddenly that it stung. Just what had they injected him with...?

Brian had retreated to his room after his initial encounter with Zachary, thinking long and hard. He'd somehow managed to completely miss a halloween party of some sort- or at least, that's what he gathered from the tent being taken down. Oh well, he wasn't big on parties anyways. Brian had more important things to think about, though- the experiments they were doing on this island, for one. The 'dragon' he'd encountered was thrilling and exciting, at first- human-created sentience in an animal! Magnificent! Wondrous! But... did it really serve a purpose? How many animals like him had failed and been culled? How much pain and suffering did these labs put animals through? And more importantly, how on earth was his research linked to all of it??

Too much to think about, really. He forced himself outside to explore the immediate area, to get his bearings in the case that they'd want him to stay more than a few days. It struck him as rather odd that no guide was provided for him, no tour or explanation from a lower-ranking official. Strange indeed. It was with these thoughts swirling around in his head that the field biologist found himself in the 'entertainment room' (although he'd no idea that was its given title) and poring through the DVD titles on the shelves, not really reading them so much as wasting time and trying to make himself feel busy.

Richard was looking to relax. His encounter with Billy had continued to replay itself in his head. The octopus' territoral instincts had clearly overpower the man's rational thoughts and Richard was concerned with his own mental health. Had he been doing anything he wouldn't do ordinarily? He didn't think so, besides that incident at the halloween party. He was still himself as far as he could tell.

Still, his mind was beginning to feel like a hamester wheel. With the memorial project dead, and he couldn't find Gaius anyway, Richard was out of ideas.

So like before, Richard decided to take the day off. Try not to worry about anything for a day. He would have gone fishing but it didn't seem like a good idea with his arm in a sling. So a couple movies might do instead.

He walked into the entertianment room wearing one of his modified suits, holes for his little arms and tentacles. His cane in his left hand, the right arm in a sling.

Having spent years in an occupation where most of what he did was sitting and watching, Brian had picked up the habit of checking over his shoulder on a rather regular basis. He did so a short moment after Richard entered (perhaps triggered by the vague recognition of the sound of a door being opened). Only getting a brief glance- clearly not enough of one to see extra limbs or even tentacles of a most outragous sort- the redhead turned back to the shelves. This person was human, and so had to be one of the researchers- Brian didn't want to bother him, or get in his way. If the elder man intended to speak with him, he'd let him initiate the conversation.

Richard stopped and studied the man standing by the DVD's for a moment. He was human, and one Richard hadn't seen at the Halloween party. Predictably he could just see the tips of his tentacles out of the corner of his eyes as they lowered into a striking pose. He mentally clicked on the "safety" He didn't need another accident.

The thought of ignoring the man crossed his mind but he quickly crushed it. Someone normal and rational would be refreshing after the octopus man. Did he have any letters? No. Well he could point the man out in the direction of the bulletin board if he needed to.

Richard moved in the direction of the DVD collection where Brian stood. He smiled that gentle smile of his although he didn't really feel it. "Hello there." Really, Richard just looked tired at the moment.

Brian turned, the beginnings of the faint smile he would have forced on his face trickling away at the sight of the man's bizarre... growths. He immediately began to wonder how hot it was in the room, what he'd eaten that day, and how much sleep he'd had- because really, he simply had to be hallucinating.

He rubbed his eyes, and smiled a small, nervous smile, if only to return the man's favour. "Hi," he said, rather simply, and quickly added more to it so that he didn't sound so dense. "You're one of the scientists working here, I assume?"

So he didn't know. Damn. Richard shook his head sadly. "I was a scientist before I retired. That was a long time ago though." He extended his left hand after a breif twing of pain shot up his right arm when he attempted to move it. "I'm Richard. Retired Physiologist, captured reporter and now..." He shrugged. "An experiment of Dr. Moreau's. Just like everyone else."

Richard watched Brian closely.

What Richard would see was a quick furrowing of the brows, a slight involuntary flaring of the nostrils, and the parting of lips in preparation for speech which never came. The pause was long, and Brian took this time to solidly consider what was going on. He decided that he didn't really know, and did the first thing that came to mind. "...what... what do you mean?"

No panic. That was good. Although there was some temptation to just hit him with the tentacles to smash the wall of denial that he could see Brian summoning up. The tentacles danced at the thought, straining againist the "safety" muscle.

No... the man didn't deserve that... yet. RIchard closed his eyes and visably exhaled. Then he smiled sadly this time and let his hand fall. "Son, I suggest you have a seat for a moment. Listen to what I just said. Then I'll explain further." Make him process it a little. Otherwise this would get no where.

Part of Brian's mind (the one minescule fraction that wasn't doing a magnificent metaphorical impression of a seagull in a typhoon) objected to being called 'son', on the grounds that he was, first and foremost, an adult, and secondly that he didn't know this man well enough to endure such friendly reference. But then that silly, unimportant thought was quashed. Something far bigger was going on.

Listening to Richard's suggestion, the biologist straightened and went to a sofa, sitting down and looking expectantly at him. "What do you mean, you're his experiment?" 'Human testing. Ohgodohgod they're doing human testing.'

Richard could almost see the gears grinding through Brian's head. He turned away to inspect the DVD collection, giving the man a very good look at the tentacles sprouting from his back.

As he searched for a good Bond flick, he spoke. "Techinically my "serum" was developed by a man named Sabin Durvert. A underling of Moreau's. Most of the people here are being their DNA blended with that of an animal or several animals, in my case." Richard was trying very hard to act non chalant about it, but could not keep an angry terseness from creeping into his voice. He plucked a DVD from the shelf. His tentacles writhed in the air, wanting to strike something, anything!

He turned to pop the DVD in the player. "Did you get an injection?" He grinned a bit, revealing his enlarged canines.

"Yes, I did," Brian answered warily. He didn't remember getting it, but he certainly saw the mark. "Blending DNA? That's not possible. It can't be." But it all seemed to make a little too much sense- collecting all those samples, all that data, answering the bizarre questions that the main office would spout at random. DNA? But what about- "Zachary," Brian muttered, and then asked more loudly, "The creature that's called Zachary. He claims to be a dragon, when clearly there's no such thing as dragon DNA."

He scoffed at the very notion. "This must be some kind of joke. I'm sure the labs are just producing some highly intelligent test-tube animals, that's all." But still... all the human mannerisms, and how would he explain away the disfigurement of the man right in front of him? It was all too much. He paused, and suddenly asked, "Who's in room number-" (he hadn't yet been conditioned to call them duplexes) "-one, and five?" Off the top of his head, those two were the only ones he remembered. He'd left the little note safe back in the desk drawer.

Impossible? No it wasn't impossible. The quicker the man learned that, the better. Richard actual beared his teeth at Brian for a brief moment and then looked away, down on the coffee table infront of Brian. Richard's eyes fell on a DVD case that someone hadn't put away. The "safety" and the tentacle's sprung and slammed into the case stretching about twice its length to do so. Both tentacles adhered, and the case rocketed toward's Richard's face. Richard wasn't quite fast enough to catch it with his left hand but was able to block it. The tentacle ripped from the plastic surface with an audible pop and the case fell to the ground.

"Immpossible doesn't exist on this island." He stated, breathing slightly heavy.

Then he remembers the duplex questions. "Duplexes 1 and 5? That's Ambrose and Pyroth. Why?"

Brian stood. The strange display was more than enough to convince him that even if people weren't being experimented on, something seriously wrong was going on on this island. "Nevermind," he muttered in reply to Richard's answer about the duplex residents. Two names. What good were they to him? Regardless, he made a mental note to himself to jot them down later. 'Room 1 and 5 - Ambrose, Pyroth'.

Rubbing the side of his temple with two fingers, he scowled darkly. "I... I'm not sure what to say. I'd better be going." And without so much as a goodbye, Brian turned and headed for his duplex at a brisk pace. He needed a nap, pronto.

Guess that had been a little to much for the man. He watched Brian begin to stand and his face turned to sympathy. He wasn't being very tolerant. "Look, I know its alot to process, go read the welcome letter on the bulletin board." He Frowned as Brian seemed to ignore him and head for the door. He called after him, "Oh if you see Ambrose, tell him hi for me, He's the wolf man!"

Then Brian was gone. Richard was alone again. Pity.

He picked up the remote and the TV flickered to life.

Brian sat in the cafeteria, alone at a distant table off towards a corner. At his elbow sat a tray, on it a carton of milk, some cutlery, a napkin, and a plate of roast chicken. He'd picked at the chicken, apparently, and still did so every little while. The man's main attention, however, was on the notebook he had in front of him. The ballpoint pen scratched and scrawled quietly as quick words spouted from its end. Brian paused every one in a while to chew on either some food or the end of his writing instrument, and then went back to whatever he was doing. He seemed immersed in his own thoughts.

Sid would have been perfectly content to just sleep through the day, but hunger pangs woke up him and refused to let him go back to bed. He hadn't been eating as much as he should, granted, but after all that had happened he had a lot negative associations with the cafeteria. Without the benefit of room service, or anyone he felt he could talk into getting something for him, he just had to bite the bullet and go out- in the sun- to eat.

Of course, someone had to be there... someone normal by the looks of it. He moved inside as quietly as he could, but his feet weren't helping. With every step his webbed toes slapped loudly (to him, anyway) on the tile. Casting a wary glance at the man, Sid moved to grab a plate.

The biologist looked up from his writing upon hearing the unfamiliar footsteps. He gave Sid a quick glance, mentally digested his rather frightening appearance, and flipped over the page of his notebook. The chicken caught his attention again, as did the milk. Brian set his precious treasure aside for the moment and attempted to resume eating. Alas, the milk was warm... and the chicken was cold.

He glanced a second time, briefly, at the stranger, but made no move to invite him over. Surely, the stranger would take it as an insult. Brian didn't want to rub his humanity in the other guy's face. So he reasoned as he allowed his frame of mind to slip back into timid introversion.

Fish, fish, and more fish... Screw that. Sid moved further down the line and grabbed a piece of chicken. It was worth a shot. Once his plate was full he took a bottle of water and turned to look over all the empty space he could put between himself and the other guy. Since he hadn't immediately freaked out or stood to leave was a little encouraging, so why not be sociable?

He moved over to Brian's table slowly, trying to make himself appear as nonthreatening as possible, despite the teeth.

"So I guess you're new."

Brian was no expert in marine life, but the outrageous teeth that the approaching man sported reminded him of a book he'd had in his childhood about various sorts of deep-sea critters. 'An angler-fish?' He wondered, but made no comment. It probably wouldn't, Brian mused, be polite.

"Yeah, you could say that. I've been here a couple weeks now. Brian Grant," he introduced, extending his hand fearlessly. He'd driven away in a panic from an angry rhino, handled dozens of samples of feces to try to determine eating habits, and spent hours in freezing cold and broiling hot tempteratures. He could handle one rather webby, possibly slimy handshake. (At least, he hoped he could.)

Sid raised an eyebrow at the offered hand. He laid the water bottle down to awkwardly curl his fingers around Brian's.

"Sid Eisley," he said, watching for his reaction. He didn't exactly shake, but the contact was probably bad enough as it was. When he withdrew his hand he nodded at the closest empty seat. "Do you mind if I sit?"

He had to remind himself he was trying to be nice sociable, not see how much the guy could take. It's not as though he was that vindictive yet... Was it?

Brian simply smiled genially (if not a touch hesitantly) at the handshake. "Go right ahead." He left his notepad where it was so as not to draw attention to it. He'd already made sure the visible page was a blank one.

He glanced at the fishy-man's selection and, struggling to incite conversation, commented, "The chicken is good. Until you let it get cold." The redhead sent a disparaging look at his own meal, half-eaten and looking rather forlorn.

"I prefer it cold, actually." Sid eased into a seat, mindful of his tail. After a little shifting, he worked into a more or less comfortable position. He picked up the chicken, which despite what he said was still warm, and tried eating it. Just as he thought, it wasn't quite to his tastes anymore. "Problem is viperfish don't seem to care for it."

He unscrewed the bottlecap and tilted his head back to try and get the taste out of his mouth. "Well, now I know."

"Viperfish, eh?" Brian asked, the curosity plain on his voice. "So the... the changes also effect what tastes good to you?" The notion jarred him. It was more, then, than just a physical change. More than just sprouting a tail or some fangs and looking like the animal- the animal behaviour came along with it too?

Fascinating, that would prove beyond a doubt that behavioural patters were imprinted in DNA itself, not simply learned from observing others of the same species. It was the eternal nature vs. nurture debate, unravelled with the help of... of... sick scientific testing on human captives. Fasinating, yes, but no better than the 'experiments' performed in concentration camps during World War II, no better than the complete destruction of Hiroshima during the testing stages of the atom bomb. Brian was no longer hungry, and pushed his tray to the side. Ugh.

"Tastes are the least of it, man." Sid blithely popped a piece of fish in his mouth and swallowed it without much pretense of chewing. He couldn't think of a polite way to go about the process, but since Brian had pushed his plate away before he started eating he felt safe. Once he swallowed he continued.

"Some people get overwhelmed sometimes. Like, a few weeks back, this guy stabbed himself right here in the cafeteria- don't ask me why- and this leopard girl freaked out at the sight of blood and latched on to him. Me and a few other people tried to get her off, but she got zapped before it went too far. God, how that boy shrieked... He was okay though, walked away from the ordeal and everything."

He threw another piece of fish into his mouth, unaware that he was talking about a vicious attack as casually as if he was discussing the weather or a football game.

"Christ," he muttered, although he was no church-goer. "Just like that, no warning?" Brian's fingertips itched for his pen, his notepad. He should've been writing it all down. Instead, his brows furrowed and he listened more carefully to what was being said, trying to remember more details for the second he had a moment to himself. The biologist pursed his lips and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his chin in the cradle of his palms. "And what do you mean, zapped?"


"Heh... Y'know it was weeks before someone told me about the chips, too?" Sid couldn't quite understand it, but he was enjoying rambling on about the subject, unpleasant as he was. He pulled a piece of fish into two smaller, easier to swallow parts. "They have this failsafe, right? These chips implanted so that if you ever get out of hand it shocks you unconscious." He popped one of the pieces into his mouth and after he swallowed he added, "Maybe 'buzzed' is a better word for it. But... I dunno about warning. I think it's something there has to be a trigger to get your animal side going. Never happened to me, as far as I'm aware."

But it would, and he thought about that as he continued to eat. Food was only the first part of it, just like he said.

Watching this fellow eat was a rather gruesome sight. Not because of the teeth, not because of the nature of the food, not because of the strangeness of the sight. Rather, it was the very human way in which Sid performed a very inhuman task that set Brian's stomach flip-flopping. He'd seen fat, greasy children chowing down on burgers. He'd seen wild predators voraciously devoring a kill, faces pink with blood. Never before had he seen something that looked so very animal in face and food pick up and pop fish into its mouth like a potato chip. It was unnerving, this anthropomorphic nightmare he'd stumbled into. Brian tried not to let it show.

As Sid talked in more detail about what was meant by 'zapping', Brian recalled a selection of Richard's introductory letter which he had skimmed over quickly in favour of the explanation of the impending transformations. He did, in fact, remember having learned something along those lines, and nodded his understanding. "So what happens, other than the phsyical changes?" A piece of paper could only tell him so much about the mental state of the 'changed' islanders, and how much they experienced in terms of a sudden difference in behavioural patterns. "Do the people who're infused with herbivore DNA get along with those of carnivorous DNA?"

"Well..." Sid hestitate. It all came back to the murder, didn't it? But that was a freak accident, it had to have been. He wasn't sober enough to go through that story again, so he continued picking his fish apart as he stalled for time. "There's some tension sometime, but most people strike out a balance." He swallowed yet another piece of fish. "You know what's funny? I've never really thought about it in terms of DNA getting ******** around with before... I guess it makes sense." He continued eating, a thoughtful look in his oversized eyes. "Actually, none of it makes sense to me... but here we are."

The biologist gave a wry smile at Sid's coarse language. It rather accurately described his sentiments. "Doesn't make much more sense to me than it does to you," Brian muttered, lifing his chin and weaving his fingers together before settling back down. "What gets me the most, though-" he started softly, looking at the table's surface and pausing uncertainly before going on, "-is not the how... but the why."

Sid snorted with laughter. "So why don't you ask them?"

He split the remaining peices of fish into smaller and smaller pieces, just because it was something to do with his hands. His pen and notepad were wedged in one of his pockets, but pen dancing was out of the question with the webbing.

"Personally, I don't want to know. I just assume the people in charge get off on it, and have the money for it, so... Yeah." He resumed eating. "People with money do really ******** up things with it."

Ask them, indeed. Maybe one day. For the moment, maybe Sid was right. Maybe it was better just not to know.

Brian rose. He picked up his notebook, his pen, his tray. As an afterthought, he replaced the tray on the table so that he'd have both hands to stick his favourite implements into his pockets. How useful, to have hands. Would he still have them within a year? A month? Brian brushed aside the melodramatic, pessimistic thoughts with the quick flourishing of a mental broom. "Well, I'll see you around." Damn. He'd forgotten the guy's name already. Something that started with M? Or K? S, perhaps? Oh well.

Studying animals was much easier, Brian noted in the back of his mind, than attempting to socialize with people. For one, you could give them any name you wanted, and if you forgot it and gave them a new name, they wouldn't get offended.

The young man picked up his tray again and, after waiting to hear any departing remarks from his pointy-mouth acquaintence, deposited it and then went on his way.

Awen sighed as she stood infront of the duplex listing where it was posted. She ran her finger down the list. "Gone..." She mumbled softly. "Gone....Gone....Gone..."

Her brow creased and she covered her face with a webed hand. "Why had I never noticed before....?"

Awen had spent most of the day before, after returning home from the graveyard with Richard, at the bottom of the lake trying to just sulking in her solitude. Were she in a better mood she would have noticed her old duplex had been filled by a new islander, but as of the moment, she didn't care.

Brian was just on his way back from the cafeteria, wearing a pair of flip-flops now that his old shoes no longer fit. The flat strips of foamy plastic slapped loudly against his heels as he walked, his hands in the pockets of his rolled-up pants. He looked about himself in a slow, casual way, and as he approached the blue creature standing in front of the duplex listing allowed himself a curious visual exploration. Another fish? He really needed to brush up on his knowledge of marine animals; Brian couldn't identify what exactly this person was supposed to be, and that irked him. The redhead made no comment, no greeting as he walked by, feeling that whoever it was would have no interest in talking to him.

Awen heard the flip flops smacking against the ground as the man approched. She didn't really look from the listing until the man was just passing her. An eyebrow raised glancing at the patches of fur around his body, from what she can see. It was odd to her that an islander didn't say hi or hardly aknowledge the presence of another even if they hadn't met. In the manta's less than happy mood she'd be more than happy to just let the strange islander walk by, but sadly he was walking in the same direction she was going to be going.

As she started walking back, not bothering to catch up, her feet made a similar sound as the man's flip-flops as they hit the ground. She didn't notice, as she was used to it. All the thoughts in her mind at the moment were swirling around the lost islanders.

Brian, too, continued walking. He had to try hard to supress the shocked laughter that bubbled up in his chest when he realised this poor person's feet made the same noise as his awkward footwear. Pushing his mirth back down, he remained silent and mulled over what sort of animals the once-human population of the island were being merged with. And, as he always did, Brian struggled to understand why Feral Labs was doing this. Was it a government secret? A conspiracy? Were they making 'the ultimate soldier'? Or was this to discover a way to use animal DNA to create new vaccines? He hoped it was something like the latter. He prayed that in some way, this place did something good.

Awen slowly started to feel uncomfortable with walking in silence behind a strange islander. Strange in the sense of stranger, because really he seemed very normal by comparison to some. She knit her hands together for some time trying to figure out what to say. Her ears caught the distinct slap against ground and she smiled a little.

"Hah... Never noticed how much like flip flops my fins are..." She said outloud to the man.

Brian had to glance over his shoulder to make sure she'd been talking to him and not some other person. It looked like nobody else was around- she must have been. But what was he supposed to say to that? He struggled, for a moment, socially awkward. After a moment, he managed to say,

"Yeah..." a pause, "Those look like they'd be difficult to walk with." The redhead turned around, walking backwards so that he could face her. He hadn't been sure what the gender of this islander was when he'd first gone by, but now it was fairly easy to identify her as female. He hadn't noticed many females around, but that was probably because he always saw animals as male, and many of the people milling about this place looked more animal than human.

She felt the awkward pause and started to bow her head. When he spoke up again she smiled and looked up. "Just a little.... I've gotten used to them. Oh, um.." She held out a hand. "I'm Awen. Sort of... new to the island are you? Not very but...you don't seem to be very far along..."

Brian shook her hand, his grim firm and even, confident and professional. His insides didn't squirm, thankfully, at the bizarre texture his palm was met with. Goodness, his own hand wasn't even completely human anymore. He wasn't really one to talk about bizarre texture.

"Brian Grant. I've been here a little more than a month... but I guess that's not long compared the amount of time you've been here."

Awen gave a self conscience laugh. "You'd guess right. I've been here.... a little more than a year." She grinned softly as she took her hand back. The dog pads reminded Awen of Avery, that poor boy. She wondered how he was doing. At least she still saw his name on the duplex listing.

"If you don't mind.... why did you come here? Originally?" A question she'd been neglecting to ask islanders for some time, it usually didn't help matters. But the manta girl was grasping at straws at the moment and the question just blurted itself out. She hadn't been this awkward with anyone for a long time actually...

Brian felt rooted to the spot. Suddenly the spotlight was on him, on everything he'd done, on his participation in the creation of this hell. What was he supposed to say? It was one thing to talk about what he'd done before he got here... those details were easy to fudge. But she'd directly asked why. He couldn't just... lie about it.

"I... I'd rather not talk about it, actually," he stuttered, smiling sheepishly- a tacit apology. "I'd really... rather forget." That was the truth. He could just say that. Yes. Good. Hopefully she'd leave it at that.

Awen raised and eyebrow at the man. He had something to hide, did he? She shook her head slowly. "Don't worry about it Brian. I've seen people get to the island because they shot people, got chased by police, ran what is essentially a bordello and everything nasty like that. I won't judge you, I know that even some of the staff were probably duped and tricked here. I mean... Moreau isn't exactly going public with this, he's taking people and subjects were he can get them, whatever you do, seriously, it's no big deal. But if you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. I just don't want you to think I'd be judging you."

His blood ran cold. "There are murderers here?" This thought overwhelmed the slightest urge he might have had to trust this girl with his secret. If there were people with violent tendences, he didn't want it getting out that he'd helped the labs with this, even if he hadn't meant to, even if he too had been deceived. He valued his life, thankyouverymuch.

Awen tensed instantly and cursed herself. Should she tell the man about Annie? He may be afriad...but he deservedto know, didn't he? "W-well.... only one. And... it was an accident..." Althought Billy trying to kill her wasn't an accident.... nor was Jamal trying to kill Aubrey.... how many other instances has Awen heard about since she arrived? Too many, that she could remember properly.

He muttered something-or-other, rubbing his arm and scratching absently at his furry elbow. "Still," he murmured, "Not the most comforting of thoughts." He'd have to be even more wary of trusting people from now on.

Deciding to change the topic, Brian scrutinized Awen's strange hands and arms and... membranes? "So... what exactly... what DNA were you injected with?"

She sighed softly and winced. She was just putting everyone on edge wasn't she? The manta was thankful that the man was continuing the convorsation and starting passed the awkwardness. But his wording was sort of... off. A thin eyebrow raised at the question. Most islanders asked about what she was changing into...but not 'what DNA were you injected with' most people probably didn't know what was happening, as so many just awoke and changed--at least Awen had.

"Manta ray..." She said a little cautiously as she held up her arms to let him look over the large wing-like fins growing from her wrists to under her arms. "And... you? Some kind of dog right? Your pads feel like a friend of mine's...."

Manta ray! He should have known that. Especially from the protrusions on her head. "African wild dog," he supplied, with a small, ironic grin. "I... I used to study them," he explained, so that she wouldn't think him bizarre for finding this so funny. "I'm a behavioural biologist." I am. Not was.

Awen smiled and remembered Ivy, didn't she want to be some kind of biologist? Awen's eyes barely widened as she remembered the enthusiastic girl. Didn't Sabin say she was becoming a fish too? How far was she... was she okay? Awen pushed these thoughts away.

Again, another strange set of wording on Brian's part. Am? She supposed a lot of people do that at first on the island... he may not be... "You are? That's pretty interesting actually. And... I'm not surprised that you studied them. The labs are.... funny like that."

"I've heard they've got... an interesting sense of humour," he snorted softly, crossing his arms. Brian glances at his toes somewhat guiltily. "I mean, I guess I'm not one anymore, but... it wasn't just my job, it was my passion. It's part of who I am." 'That sounded really dumb,' he told himself. Very corny. Cheesy, even.

"Someone mentioned to me once, actually, that they like to do that. They injected a girl who was afraid of snakes with snake DNA?"

"Yeah..." She said with a shake of her head. "And I was afraid of water, with no other aquatic on the island yet to help me out." She chuckled a bit. "Though I did ask for it.... Moreau got me to come by saying that I'd be so good with water I'd be able to swim as thought I were born to it."

"But why do you keep saying injecting islanders with DNA and the likes. Most people don't really know how the labs pull this off. I mean, lots-after awhile- could probably guess... but you sound very confident in your wording." There it was in the open, and Awen had been quite blunt.

Brian blinked. He certainly hadn't been expecting that. "That's what the letter Richard wrote said was going on. I'm a scientist- I won't call it "transforming" or whatever, because that's not what it is. That makes it sound like you're the one doing it, like you're in control. You're not. Besides," his eyebrow twitched, his fingers pondered his scruffy chin, "Transformation is so cliche'd, so mystical and ambiguous. It implies something magical, or something. Like werewolves or something. It just doesn't sound right for me to say. But... that's just me."

"Well, I disagree.... it is 'transforming'." The girl looked down at herself and then back up at him with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, we may be injected with the serums and DNA and whatnot, but physically we are transforming--regardless of the technicalities of why and how. Even Sabin calls it transforming, or changing, which really, are synonimous."

She sighed. "Most transformations I've heard in books and movies are not self controlled. Werewolves, in most mythology, do not have the choice. Neither do we. And like anything we are transforming, after we get injected with DNA."

He began to feel uncomfortable, as though he were being slowly backed into a corner by this new aquaintence of his. Brian shrugged, pushing down his nervousness. "It's... just a personal preference. To each his own, I suppose."

She grinned a little bit as she studied him. Perhaps a little Sabin had worn off on her but she saw the awkwardness and the look of a cornered animal in his eyes. It was... funny? Interesting? "I suppose...." She said slowly. "But that sounds like lab talk to me." She shrugged and glanceds coyly away.

He began to sweat. Was she a plant? Had that damn doctor Duvert been spreading knowledge of his past? No, no, he was just being paranoid. "W-well I am a biologist. It's just the terminology that's been trained into me over the years, I suppose."

She narrowed her eyes, but not in a threatening manner at all, just letting him know she didn't believe the dog-man. "Alright, alright Brian.... But just so you know- I don't care. Whatever your past, you're one of us now. I didn't look down to Lilly or Newt, Maryke or Jamal, I won't look down to any labbie or islander, unless of course they give me reason to." Awen gave thought of a certain tattooed woman she'd met during her time on the island.

"Labbie?" His eyebrows shot up. "You think I worked in the labs?" Brian hated lying. He wasn't good at it. But he was going to try. "I've set foot in that building once in my life, and I regret it to this day," he said lowly, clenching his teeth. The only way to do this was to tell the truth... the bits of the truth that didn't give away the part he played in making this place. "I spent the last year of my life in Africa, driving around in a jeep with a trank gun and radio-collars. I've never worked in a lab. I'm a feild biologist." Brian was tempted to fish around for his wallet and show her some pictures, but he feared too strong of a denial would be all the evidence she needed.

She chuckled and shook her head. "A little defensive, aren't you Brian?" She sighed heavily and then dropped the smug act, to a genuine look that was more...sincere on her face. "I was just saying whatever your past, and whatever you've done... it doesn't matter. I'm friends with a labbie, I know that they can be good people. The only one I blame is Moreau.... and his god-playing ancestors."

A slow smile came to her lips, not a coy or accusing one, just a simple smile. "But that life sounds really neat. I'd always wanted to visit Africa. Is it as beautiful as people say?"

Brian didn't say anything more on the subject of 'labbies'. He relaxed visibly, however, when Awen brought up Africa. "It's amazing. There's always something amazing about everywhere I've been, but Africa... the serengetti is one of the most fantastic places you could ever go. I spent some time at Ngorongoro, too... I just, I can't describe it. I'm not the best with words. But it really is beautiful." His expression became wistful, nostalgic. "I wonder what they told my teammates. Probably that I got another transfer. It wouldn't be so strange." A gentle sigh escaped between his teeth.

Awen nodded slowly and smiled. "I guess not. I'm still not sure what my friends are thinking. Maybe that I left for therapy, and then moved on from them. I don't know if I'm dead or alive mainland." She chuckled, usually she didn't try to think of her friends, but... it was a moment of weakness. "Ever been to Canada? You really should have seen the great lakes around falltime if you hadn't. Used to go up to the lookout tower and just stare out at the reds and oragnes and yellows...." She sighed softly and smiled.

Brian's eyes glistened with some vague emotion. Sadness? Happiness? "I'm from Canada, actually. The great lakes are nice, but I really loved the smaller ones, up in Algonquin Park. I spent some time there doing research. That was when I was much younger, though, it was mostly lackey-work. But on the weekends when I wasn't working, I'd drive out late at night near where I knew the cloests rendezvous sites were, and howl back and forth with the wolves." He grinned. "Once I scared a deer witless. I'd walked quietly along the road for a bit, and neither of us knew the other was there until I let loose a long howl- and then she came exploding out of the underbrush from the other side of the road and ran a few yards along the ditch and then was gone again. I nearly peed myself, I was so startled."

Awen laughed at the man's story. "Oh that poor deer! And you for that matter, I remember being scared out of my wits once by a huge buck. And Algonquin Park is beautiful too.... I lived only a few hours from there..." She grinned a little. "And glad to see another Canadian! Honestly this island is too American heavy if you ask me. "

He gave a wry chuckle. "I just assumed everyone here would be. Isn't the company running this place American?" Of course it is. He knows it is. But playing dumb might just be another way to clear his name.

"Besides, I'd rather they left my home alone. Not that I'd wish this place on anybody, but..."

She shook her head slowly. "Yeah but like I said, they're taking subjects where they can get them. I hate feeling so out of place, I mean thanksgiving is in October not November. But no one else gets this." She shook her head slowly. "Yeah I know I'd rather it be left alone. But... it's nice to know that I'm not alone too, eh?"

"True," he said, remembering Gaius's mention of Thanksgiving having thrown him for a loop. "We should get together on Victoria Day and paint our faces red and white," he joked, grinning a little. "Demand we be given igloos and dogsleds, and Canadian beer." It was fun to think about something not-so-serious. It was not fun, however, to think that he'd still be here on this island by the time Victoria Day rolled around.

"Oh god yes I missed Molson....and Waterloo Dark..." She grinned a little bit and shook her head. Not much of a drinker, but she did have her tastes. "We should so get together on Victoria Day and hang maple leaf cutouts everwhere." She laughed, but was serious.

"Maybe," he chuckled. Awen didn't seem so bad, once she'd let go of the whole 'I won't judge you' thing. "I was just heading back to my room. Is that where you were going?" He nodded his head down the path. Brian wanted to do a bit of writing to calm his nerves.

"Ah, my room too." She laughed a little. "What a coincedence, eh? But I should probably let you go.... sorry for bothering you."

"Not at all. Pleasure meeting you." And with that, Brian turned and went on his way. Slip-slap, slip-slap. His footware continued to amuse.

"You too." Awen nodded and vered a little bit more towards the long way to the lake.

Brian wandered through the village, restless, anxious, craving social interaction. He asked himself it was an effect of the serum or if it was simply his lack of friends and his inability to approach strangers for converation that had caused this longing, but he found no answer. The man walked about aimlessly for a long time, glancing at strange, deformed, animalistic people as they walked by him, knew he was one of them, kept walking. Finally he steeled himself and went to the duplex of the one person in this hell-hole he considered his friend- Aislinn. He remembered, vaguely, where she resided, and took the quickest route in order to find himself at her door. He knocked.

The woman had been sulking. The day before had been her second transformation, and she'd spent the night in tears and tossing and turning with nightmares for the little time she did manage to keep herself asleep. At this point, however, she had acquired the walker that would help her get about, but had taken to lounging on the couch anyhow. Her hair was slightly disheveled, but given its texture, not particularly tangled. Her eyes, however, were wrinkled with distress and a little on the bloodshot side. She heard the knock and pulled a blanket over herself. She wasn't ready for anyone else to see her like this, just yet. Particularly not with the tiny hooves...those were simply disturbing to look at. "Come in," she managed to say.

The redhead opened the door and stuck his head inside, looking around for Aislinn. Half of him hadn't expected her to be in her room. "It's just Brian. I- I hope I haven't come at a bad time," she had sounded somewhat upset... maybe she was feeling bad about being trapped? But she hadn't seemed that morose of a person when he'd met her. "Just, ah... dropping by. Are you alright?" He set eyes on her and, resting a hand against the doorframe and leaning his weight in that direction, didn't bother to hide the concern that crept into his face.

He was awfully sweet. And she couldn't help but smile just a little at seeing the familiar face. She wanted to run her hands through his hair again. It was such a brilliant natural orange-y red. "I'm...okay." It was obvious even with the blanket covering the majority of her body that she'd changed again. Her hair was longer, and significantly more of it was gray. And her ears were more equine in appearance, though they didn't quite have the swivel capacity yet.

Her small smile made something squeeze tightly inside of Brian's chest. His friend was in pain, it seemed to tell him, and he had to do something to fix it. But that might annoy her. Maybe she was one of those people who hated when others intervened and tried to cheer them up. What should he say? 'You've changed'? That would be fairly obvious- redundant, even. Words escaped him for what felt like the longest time. He stood, feeling stupid, in her doorway and chewed his lower lip. Finally, he mumbled, "As long as you're okay... I can leave, if you'd rather be alone. It's... never pleasant when..." he trailed off. She probably wouldn't want to hear it.

She shook her head, motioning towards the chair next to the couch, as she seemed to be taking up the entirety of the couch itself, "Oh, no, of course not. I couldn't pass up an opportunity..." she let it trail off. An opportunity for what? What the hell was she talking about, and why was her mind suddenly feeling a little fuzzy. A slight blush came to her cheeks, and for a second she forgot about her change. She remembered quickly enough, though, "Yes...it's...horrible, so I'm going to stay like this, but I do want to see you."

"Alright," he said gently, also wondering what she'd meant by 'opportunity'. Brian stepped inside and out of his shoes, carefully closing the door behind himself before making his way to the indicated chair. "...how are you feeling?" He asked, noticing her slightly bloodshot eyes.

She shrugged, "To be honest, pretty awful. I can't sleep for the nightmares, half the time." She motioned to the coffee table in front of her, which had a tea set and pot of tea on it, "It's a little cool now, but if you want some, you can help yourself." she'd have gotten it for him if it weren't such a hassle to get off the couch and if it wouldn't mean him seeing her..changed.

Brian's brows knitted together, worry more than evident in his expression. "I... I wish there was something I could do. How about the... the physical-? Does it hurt? I can go get some aspirin, painkillers or something...?" He could tell that it was more than just grey hair- something big had happened to this poor girl, and it was clear she didn't want to talk about that. But if it was hurting her, the least he could do was try to solve that problem.

She shook her head. He was such a doll, "I already took something. It's sort of a lingering pain, but it's getting better." It was more psychological than physical at this point, she just hated being as hideous as she was, and having to depend on not a cane anymore, but a -walker-, like some old lady. She glanced at it momentarily, by the side of the couch, then back at the pot of tea, "Not a tea-drinker, then?" she managed a more brilliant smile than the weak one she'd had before.

"Oh, I like it now and then," he said, smiling back at her, "and I happen to have a weakness for apple tea. Just wanted to be certain I couldn't do anything for you. Wait, that came out wrong. I mean, rather, that you're alright- I wouldn't have wanted to pour myself a cup and then disappear." His smile became sheepish. Brian served himself some and settled it on his knee, two hands wrapped carefully around the cup to make sure it didn't fall. He tried to think of something to say. He couldn't, and instead tried not to look at the walker, knowing what it probably meant.

Aislinn laughed, "Oh, I could think of a few things...." she teased, pushing the locks of gray behind one ear thoughtfully, then pulling the blankets closer around her. What would he -think- if he saw what she looked like now? Perhaps he wouldn't dare come back here again. She was such a -freak-. She missed being attractive. Then she'd have been able to get any g...why was she even thinking about that? This nice man comes to say hello and is all sweet to her, and all she can think about is...well, anyhow. She picked up the cup she'd been sipping from, "There is some apple in the kitchen. I'm afraid this is just apricot." She had a fondness for the flavoured teas as of late. And the mention of the word apple had her desperately craving one. Maybe tomorrow, if she was feeling braver.

"Well, I'll help you polish this off and if we're still in the mood for tea, I'll make a pot of apple. I can't promise you it'll be very good though- it was usually the other guys who made the tea, since I managed to be teamed up the two people on the planet who wake up earlier than I do. It wasn't always tea, though," he said, taking a sip and pausing as he swallowed, "We'd get sick of it pretty fast, so we switched week-by-week from tea to coffee. Anything that didn't taste like dirt and helped to keep our eyes open did the trick." Brian realised, with a measure of discomfort, that he was being chatty again. He only hoped his mindless anecdotes were cheer Aislinn up a little, if at all. Maybe he'd just hope they didn't annoy her? Too much? He peered into his cup self-conciously.

She smiled, reaching over to run her hands through his hair again, just like before. There was a visible relaxation of her entire body from this action, and she closed her eyes briefly, smiling warmly this time, "Well, if you need help just bring it over here. I know how to use the infuser and all that jazz, so I can make sure it's beautiful before you take it over to the stove if we need it." Gods, but apple did sound good right now. She sipped at the apricot tea thoughtfully. Perhaps she'd get up after Brian left and go to the cafeteria for one or something. "My school was more about echinacea and stuff. Everybody in Davis is an environmentalist, it seems."

"That so?" His eyes and tone spoke of genuine interest, and he shifted in the chair slightly to allow her to reach more easily. If it helped her feel better, he'd be more than happy to help in any way he could. "Mm, speaking of environmentalists- I've had some interesting concoctions made of bark and leaves and hot water forced upon me that went by the name of tea and were... not what I was expecting. Interesting, I suppose, but not something I could drink every day." He grinned a little.

She laughed, "Yeah, some require a little more getting used to than others," she set the teacup back down on the table and continued playing with his hair, "Well, we're all health freaks if not environmentalists, but there are a lot of environmental activists there too." She stretched out her legs unconsciously, one hoof peeking out from under the blanket, and yawned as though waking up, "Maybe we'll make apple martinis instead of apple tea," she grinned.

"That can be just as fun- if not more so," he mumbled behind a smile, noticing the hoof out of the corner of his eye. How dramatic her second change had to have been, he thought, for her to seem so... ashamed. At least her face hadn't changed, other than her ears and hair; Brian allowed himself a brief moment to gaze at her eyes under the internal pretense of checking if they'd changed in any way.

The eyes were the same almond-shaped deep brown they'd always been, other than the bloodshot look in them from a lack of sleep the past couple of days. "Of course. And sometimes it's needed," her smile wavered just a bit, but then she started running her fingers through his hair again and it returned. She noticed his gaze and looked back, noting that his were a cool blue. He looked about as Irish as her mother, come to think of it. "I don't suppose you do have Irish blood in you, do you? You definitely sound American, though."

"Canadian," he corrected gently, smiling a smile that clearly said he'd had to make the distinction many times before. "I might, a few generations back. I think I'm more Scottish than Irish, but it's been a while since I had a good look at my geneology." Here he looked away, eyes going to the floor, then to his tea, and he took another drink. "What makes you ask?"

She smiled, "Ah. Not much of the french accent most Canadians have, then." she shook her head, pulling her hair back and then realizing she didn't have a hairband to keep it out of her eyes with anyhow and letting it fall again, "My mum and da are both Irish. Second generation from the motherland itself," she smiled, "And you look Irish. Red hair, blue eyes, light skin..." she brushed his cheek gently. "Even if you are outside a lot, you can't tan. Liam, my brother, he's the same way, though he was adopted straight from Ireland itself."

He told himself that he was tolerating her need to be touchy and physical to help her to feel better after the change. He told himself he was just being altruistic and casting aside his discomfort. But he did, secretly, enjoy the way her fingers ghosted across his face, weaved through his hair. Brian placed an elbow on the arm of the chair closest Aislinn and rested his chin in his palm, still holding his cup of tea in the other hand. "Most Canadians don't have an accent. Well, I've heard some Americans claim we do. Something about the way we pronounce vowels. But Quebec is the only entirely-French province. Some of the eastern maritime provinces are bilingual, but even then, the majority don't take French beyond the grade nine level that's required to graduate highschool."

Aislinn grinned, "I guess the ones I showed against were from Quebec or something, though, because I definitely remember a couple of them with some heavy french accents," she let her hand go back to his hair, gently weaving her fingers through it. She couldn't help it. He was just so...touchable. Cuddly, really. She wished she could curl up with him again like before, but she was really too big to do anything of the sort anymore. She leaned in closer, whispering, "Though, to be honest, they might've just been French. I didn't always get a good idea of where the competition was from."

"C'est possible," he teased gently, grinning. His eyes wandered of their own accord, much of it simply habit after years of needing to note subtle changes, straining the eyes to see a blotchy pattern under a thick canopy, to see something white on a background of snow or tan in an ocean of yellowed grass. It looked to him as though her spine had, without warning, completely changed direction. Clearly her legs had bulked up some... he was curious as to just what had happened to his poor friend underneath that blanket, but he knew it would be painfully insensitive to inquire. Brian's eyes returned to her face, and he strove yet again to think of something to say. His inability to find the words made his gaze drop again, almost nervously.

She followed his gaze, looking at the blanket and then back at him, sighing softly. She tilted her head to the side, nearly resting it on his shoulder, "I could...well, I could show you the changes, but...I'm scared to." she admitted. She hated admitting fear, but it was the only way to explain it to him, "I just...look awful..and...I hate it."

Brian set his cup of tea on the table and looked back up at her again. "I'm sure you don't look awful. You can't control what's happening, and it's not as though you ever asked for this. Besides..." he trailed off, unsure of whether or not he ought to say what he was thinking, and decided to go for it, hating to see her so unsure of herself, "...your face is still... just as lovely as it was before." There, he'd said it. No taking it back now.

She blushed a little bit, "Even with the gray?" she asked, her voice attempting to be teasing, but more seeking consolation. Her hands lingered over the blanket, and she sighed, "I know...I can't control it...but...I've always worked so hard to be...attractive. And now, I'm not and there's nothing I can do about it."

"Even with the gray," he asserted, sitting up straight again. "And aren't lighter colours easier to dye?" Brian was no hairdresser, but he knew this much from simple logic. "And you are! A-attractive, that is. Like I said, your face hasn't changed, and, well- I think, ah, well, this is just me personally, but I think someone's face is far more important than their body." He struggled to keep his gaze from being drawn to the floor, the legs of the coffee table, his feet, the corners of the room. At his conclusion, he managed to scrounge the courage it took to look up at her and face her reaction to this. It would be much too easy for this to become awkward.

She blinked away tears that were trying to come. She didn't want to cry in front of him-- it'd just upset him. And she really didn't want that. He might leave, then, and she wanted him to stay. She really wanted him to stay. Softly, she leaned over to kiss his cheek, "You're really about the sweetest person I've ever met." She sighed, slowly pulling the blanket up so that he could see the damage, "Shenzi...she thinks I might be turning into a centaur, since only the bottom half's changed really."

Brian smiled timidly at the compliment, but puzzled over her response. Centaur? His attention went to where the blanket was pulled aside, and he noted with mild astonishment how quickly they'd become equine. It must have hurt a lot, he surmised, and then flushed when it struck him that she was unable to wear any pants, or...! Brian averted his eyes politely, careful not to make it look like he was disgusted or any such thing. "That's... probably a fair guess. This'll certainly make life difficult for you for the next little while, won't it? I... I'm sorry."

She pulled the blanket back over herself, not daring to look at him afterwards, "I..well, yeah. I have to use the walker for one thing, as my back's at a weird angle now." She pulled the covers close to her chin, feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

Her reaction made him feel suddenly guilty, and he got up from the chair and crouched in front of the couch at eye level with her. Without really thinking, he took ahold of the hand of hers that drew those blankets so closely around herself. He tried to imagine what she must have been like, before the island, before her accident, spunky, full of energy, full of confidence. Brian hoped that part of her could come back some day; it was still there, but that second she just seemed so... vulnerable. "It's alright," he said, not sure he believed it but knowing he wanted to. "You can get through this, no problem. You've already lived through so much... and you're not alone, here... everyone is in the same boat, and if you ever need someone to talk to, someone who can just listen, I'm here."

She sniffled a little bit, fighting back tears again. How could he be so nice to her when she was so...awful to look at? She was half horse, and had little -legs- sticking out her -stomach-. She was hideous and...yet somehow he was still here for her. She clasped his hand with hers gently, "Thank...thank you," she said softly. She wasn't used to being like this. She -had- always been confident until the accident, and then this...and it was like life just liked taking her down a peg.

Brian smiled a little, out of comforting words, and instead squeezed her hand gently, in a way that he hoped was reassuring. "It's not so bad," he mumbled, referring to her changes, glancing at the blanket, "The scientists could have been cruel and injected you with something that made you half scorpion. Or all scorpion. Just as bad." He made a face.

The woman shivered, "That would definitely be awful." She looked up, and around the room, "Hey...would you...be willing to help me put up my Christmas tree, maybe?" she blushed lightly, "It's..my favourite holiday, and I don't think I can do it on my own. Maybe you can come by tomorrow or so?"

"Sure," Brian replied, smiling, "I'd be happy to. Give me something to do, really. Speaking of which- did you ever talk to the staff about that idea we had? The clinic sort of thing?" He balanced on the balls of his feet and leaned an elbow on the arm of the couch Aislinn was on, careful to respect her personal space but hesitant to return to 'his' chair.

She really wanted him to just sit on the couch with her...but there wasn't a whole lot of space for that. She'd need to get a bigger couch at some point. Perhaps something lower to the ground too. A futon, maybe, would do, tacky as that sounded. But really, there wasn't much space for one in the Duplex. What she really needed was a bigger place. "Seems like everybody's busy with the holidays," she shook her head, "I keep getting lab assistants who tell me no-one can talk to me right now. I'll keep trying, though...but a lot of people like the idea. I've asked a couple of my friends about it." Friends. Well, yeah. Aislinn had always made friends easily, but these seemed much deeper in some fashions than the type of friends she'd had before...other than Lise. She wondered for a moment if she would be allowed to consider Brian part of that, and decided she had to, whether he liked it or not.

He made a face as she described the inaccesibility of the staff, as if to say 'That sucks.' When she'd finished, Brian said, "So it wouldn't just be in vain, then? There's always the chance that the word wouldn't get around, or people would be uninterested, and we'd end up sitting at our desks all by our lonesome, day after day." But did that really sound so bad?

She smiled, "Well, at least I'd be assured of seeing you every day," her voice was only about halfway flirtatious. Not that she didn't want to flirt with him, but she didn't want to scare him either, and shy sweethearts often scared easily at that sort of thing, "But yeah, it'd be worth it, I think. People would be willing to take part."

"Good," he said, his voice warm and his smile promising. "It's definately something I'd like to try... something more to do than walk around, eat, and think myself into circles." Brian was completely oblivious to any double meaning his words might hold, and her mild flirtation seemed to have bounced right off of him.

She let her hand fall on his elbow, not sure whether to try flirting again or just give up. He probably wasn't interested in a freak like her anyhow, and why bother at this rate? Still, "Well, Zee was interested, and Oz seemed to think it'd be good. I just hope the labs do. I know they've got their own people at the clinic and stuff, but I think some of the islanders might prefer, y'know, one of their own. And the clinic can't help them the way that you can, by telling them about the creatures they're turning into."

The touch definately caught his attention, especially with the increased sensitivity provided by the fur creeping up that particular area of his arm. "I still need to do a lot of research on some of the more obscure animals, but I can probably tell any of the people with canine serums more than they ever wanted to know. I'm sure it's stressful to be changing on the inside as well as the outside... there are probably people with a few questions they're asking themselves, but probably would never put to the doctors working in the labs." He wanted to respond to her somehow, to confirm their friendship, strengthen their connection... something. Uncertainty lurked behind his expression.

She nodded, "And in the meantime, you can do research on other animals. What's big and gray, I wonder, besides elephants and rhinos?" she had been distracted by mentioning Oz mostly because she was still feeling a little perplexed at the man for getting so short with her suddenly. Her attention snapped back to Brian in a heartbeat, though, "Oh, you're such a love. I never even though of what you might be going through. I'm terribly selfish. What -is- it like turning into a dog?"

"Big and gray?" He pondered, but let the question settle into the back of his mind and brought her second one to the forefront. "Interesting. It's sometimes difficult to pick through what are my thoughts and urges, and which belong to a wild dog. Some of them aren't that different. The most noticable is the need to socialize, which is one of the prominent traits in wild dogs. And I've become more sensitive to physical cues that indicate social heirchy. It's more difficult for me to maintain eye contact. It's really quite fascinating. It proves many nature versus nurture theories, if nothing else."

She tilted her head thoughtfully, "Well, some of it. I still think there are some things that do have to be taught. How to hunt properly, for instance, has to be learned, I'd think." she leaned back against the head of the couch, tilting her head back thoughtfully, "Though, I'll agree that nature gives you certain instincts that aid a lot in all that."

"Oh, yes. That's definately a good point. Especially because hunting, for wild dogs, is mainly a group skill. A community event, if you will. So they need both the instinct and the learned ability to excel and survive. Thankfully I won't need to do any hunting. It's fascinating to watch but I would never do it myself; I'm too squeamish." He smirked, leaning forward a little bit.

She smiled, "Well, that's good. I wouldn't want you to decide hunting Clydesdales is a good idea, for instance," She tilted her head back down, beaming widely and snatching him as he leaned forward to pull him in for a hug.

He laughed, returning the hug with relaxed familiarity. "Hardly. Three dogs have almost no chance of taking down a zebra- what makes you think one would stand a chance against a monster of a horse like a Clydesdale?" A grin spread across his face and he basked, momentarily, in the feeling of her hair against his cheek.
Shandriz: She nuzzled him gently, sighing. He was so warm and snuggly..."Would you sit here, with me?" She adjusted a bit so that he could probably fit, though he couldn't lie down with her, but that was okay, "Just...for a moment?" His whole presence was comforting somehow.

"Of course," he replied, the words slipping from him like a contented sigh. He eased up onto the couch, releasing her from the hug and sitting beside her, angled so that his chest and shoulders could act as pillow or chair-back, whichever need arose first. Feeling that it was something she needed to hear, to be reminded of, he whispered, "They're not as bad as you seem to think... the changes. Dramatic, yes, but... not ugly in any way."

She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment, "You don't think so?" she whispered softly. It really was what she needed to hear, and she knew it, but she was reluctant to accept the idea, worried he was just saying it to make her happy and not because it was true. She let her arm fall across his back, snuggling close. She needed this more than anything else right now. Just...time..relaxation, and reassurance.

"I don't think so," he asserted gently, and it was true. He wasn't certain he could make her believe him, but he would try. Brian placed a comforting hand on her arm, and smiled a bit at himself. "It feels strange, doesn't it- the palm of my hand? It still surprises me when I'm not thinking about it." He paused, pursed his lips thoughtfully. "It's easier... for me... to accept these changes, accept that I'm never going to change back... if I talk about it, even if it's just writing it down, talking to my reflection... because it's impossible to pretend it's not there."

She smiled softly, gently brushing her fingers over the hand touching her other arm, "It's scratchy, but...I like it," she sighed, "I just...it's hard because it looks so awful. Especially the little legs..." she checked the blanket to make sure it was still covering the rest of her, "And...I don't know." She looked at him, "You really don't think it's that bad?"

He met her gaze, holding it and hoping she would read in his face how sincere he was being. "I think it's cruel and unfair that you were deceived into coming here, that it's vindictive and malicious of these scientists to make us the subjects of this sort of experimentation against our will, and to do it in such a way that makes us lose a part of ourselves. I'll never be at peace with what happens here, and what it does to people like you who never deserved this... but I can't change any of it." His shoulders became tense, his jaw tightened, his expression fixed. He looked away, and when he looked back at her face all of this anger had left him: at least, it was no longer visible in his body language. "But in light of what could have happened, and how you'll probably look once the changes are complete... I think it's not nearly as bad as it could be. If you are only partially changing, your upper body, your face, should be mostly unchanged. And horses really are beautiful, majestic creatures. No matter what this serum does to you... it won't change the sort of person you are, and it won't change what I think of you. And in my opinion, at least, it won't make you- and hasn't made you- any less attractive."

Aislinn smiled, nuzzling against his neck again when he looked away from her. She'd never had someone so sincere, so serious, and so intelligent say such wonderful things to her before, and she wasn't sure what to make of it, other than the idea that she definitely -liked- it a lot. She paused when he returned his gaze to her, for a moment looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I..."

He smiled a little bit, almost sheepish, but mostly calm and collected. It felt marvellous to finally say those words, and know that he meant them. It meant just as much to Brian to say as it did to Aislinn to hear. Possibly more. It was a burden from his shoulders. He never wanted a part of this, and never meant to, never knew he'd done anything to contribute to it. So it was, for him, a huge leap to fully come to the conclusion that despite all he'd done to aide this project, he never supported it and never condoned it, and deep in his heart felt how wrong it was.

Brian was relaxed, so very relaxed and at ease with this girl who made him open up and act without being in constant fear of offending, who he could speak to as an equal without having to explain himself or without seeming stuck-up or condescending. So at her expression, he merely gave this calm-yet-slightly-sheepish smile, and tilted his head to the side, prompting her to continue.

She closed her mouth abruptly, looking away. Then she turned back to him, smiling softly. She wasn't sure what to say to that. He was so open. And she had a feeling things like that didn't happen often with him. They didn't happen that often with her, really, either. And she'd opened up more than she'd ever thought. She wasn't scared anymore. She felt more at peace. Because she wasn't alone, "I'm just glad...you're here." she said softly, "and...I'm not alone...and that...that you don't care about what I look like, and you're not afraid of me because of it."

"Afraid of you?" He parroted, the words carrying an amused note. "Maybe if you were becoming a hippo, I'd be afraid of you. Those things have terrible tempers, as docile as they appear." Brian grinned at her and leaned into her gently. "Don't worry about it. I'm glad I can help, somehow, in any way I can. You're, really... the only person in this place that I'd call my friend."

The Asian woman actually blushed, leaning forward too. She couldn't help it. He was -inviting- her to. Asking for it. Softly, she kissed his cheek, then pressed hers against it, "I think you're the first person in the world I can really call friend," she said, "I've never met someone so..." she closed her eyes a moment, lashes brushing against his cheeks, "....understanding."

Silent shivers of excitement broke through his pool of calm, and his heartrate began to increase. Brian tried to ignore the romantic notions that danced through his mind and his loins. Now was not the time for it. That would be taking advantage of her emotional instability after her change. He would not do that to her. He would support her, be her friend, and nothing more. "I'm glad," he said a second time, his voice the tiniest bit unsteady. When he spoke again he was more collected. "I try to be understanding... I know sometimes it's the most important thing in the world to have someone you can go to who will just... listen."

She nodded, smiling as sleepiness started to get the best of her. She was feeling very relaxed now, she was so comfortable with him...she let her head fall to his chest, leaning against him and yawning, "And you'll come by often, won't you? I'd like to see you."

"Naturally," he replied, settling an arm around her, finding himself quite comfortable too. "Aren't I coming over tomorrow to help you with your Christmas tree? Which, by the way, I'm wondering where you're getting a pine tree from?" He chuckled and perked an eyebrow.

She shook her head, 'Oh, it's a fake tree. I ordered it a couple weeks ago. S'in the closet with the decorations 'n stuff." She'd figured there wouldn't be any real trees around here. Besides, they were often a pain to take care of and maintain. Afterall, you had to pick up the needles and keep it watered and all that jazz. "You could just stay the night, though."

"No," he said gently, "I wouldn't want to impose. Besides, I..." What would he say? 'I don't want to end up doing something that I can't take back and find out it only happened because you were feeling lonely and insecure'? But what if she needed help to do something? What if she just genuinely didn't want to be alone? "I snore like the offspring of a bear and a lawn mower. I wouldn't want to deprive you of your beauty-sleep." He grinned but kept his eyes trained on his knees as he said this.

She laughed, "Sleeping won't make the horse-hair go away. I'm about as beautiful as I get right here," she lifted her head again to look into those cool blues, "I...wouldn't mind the snoring. I'd like you to stay...but if it makes you uncomfortable.." she forgot about his shyness. He'd been so open with her.

"I... I'd rather not, Aislinn..." he said, eyes still trained away, somewhere, anywhere that wasn't meeting her gaze. "I simply..." here any eloquence he had earlier evaporated into thin air. "D-don't misunderstand. It's not that I- don't think that- I just don't want to... I fear that... that you may not... be yourself right now... and... it would be too easy for..." But he was probably just imagining things. She'd probably be insulted that he'd ever dreamed something could happen between them. Insulted that he feared she'd act and then regret it. "I'm sorry," he said, at last, bashfully.

She blinked, then shook her head, "In my condition? I couldn't do anything you'd regret," she smiled, "The lower half doesn't work for that, you know, when it's part equine." she was mostly teasing with those words, and it was evident in her tone. More seriously, though, she smiled, "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. But honestly...I...well, if you're not comfortable...but..I'd like you to." She kissed his cheek again, "It's not...impossible..that I feel..but...it's not just for that. It would be...just..to keep me company."

She'd hit closer to his concerns than she might have thought. But her appeal got through to him and he smiled helplessly. "It's more that I... I wouldn't want you to do anything you'd regret... anything you weren't sure about... but I'll stay, because I don't want you to be alone, and it's Christmas time, after all. I'm feeling a little lonesome myself..." he admit.

She had to laugh through another yawn, "Oh, you sweet. Don't worry about me doing anything I'd regret." she shook her head and set it on his shoulder once more, "I doubt anything I did here with you would be something I'd regret."

"Hnn," he murmured, letting his head rest on hers, "Still, it's easy to get overly emotional when you go through something overwhelming like... like a change." He closed his eyes.
Shandriz: She shook her head, her body relaxing visibly, "Ah, but I felt this before. When we first met..." she yawned, sleep working as well as alcohol to get her to loosen her tongue completely, "there's just something about you."

The thrill returned, although it was less physical this time. So he hadn't imagined it. But maybe it was just fleeting fancy on her part. He doubted he'd be able to hold her interest for long... not being the most exotic or exciting of people. But... what if...? "It was... a real miracle for me to find someone I could finally relate to. You have no idea how happy I was to hear the phrase 'veterinary textbooks'." He laughed at the sheer absurdity. "I never would have pegged you as the sort. Most of the beautiful young women I've met tend to avoid any profession involving blood, urine, and hypodermic needles."

Aislinn blushed again, "You still think 'm beautiful?" she asked, rubbing at an eye, "You're...different from the guys I usually like." he was more stable. The sort of guy you could stay with rather than just running about with for a while 'till their bad habits drove you crazy. She yawned again, "M. 've been getting dirty m' whole life. Mama was a vet and papa rode and had to clean up and stuff.."

"Is that so?" He smiled, eyes still closed, and nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head. "So you're a real down-to-earth, hands-on sort of woman?" He chuckled.

She grinned, "You have no idea," she stretched her arms a bit, then snuggled her way practically into his lap, "I had to work -hard- to look good with all the work I did," she informed him, pulling the blanket around the both of them, "Really ought to get a futon or something."

"Mmm, it'd make life much easier for you, I'm sure." 'And I'll bet you'd look good no matter what you're doing,' he thought, considered saying it out loud, and decided not to lay it on too thick so early on in their friendship. "We gonna sleep right here, then?" He asked, half joking, half serious.

She opened her eyes sleepily, "Well, unless you want to help me into bed, yes," she smiled, "I wish this thing folded out, at least. I want you to stay with me. You're so warm and snuggly," she said, "but I don't want you to be uncomfortable." She peered at the walker nearby, narrowing her eyes at it as though that would make everything go away, "The bed's a bit bigger, at least, but I don't know if I can get myself up on it." She hadn't even bothered trying that the night before, it was just too high and she'd had a tough enough time getting up onto the couch after Shenzi'd been nice enough to set her up with the pillows on the floor.

"Would you prefer to stay on the couch, or make the effort to get into bed? I'll help you, if you like. Although to be honest, it'll be tough forcing myself to get up. I'm pretty comfortable right now." He chuckled, the sound resonating in his chest, and nuzzled against Aislinn. What was it about her that made him feel so at east and open...?

She smiled, settling back against him as he said this, "If you're sure. If you get uncomfortable during the night, just wake me and we'll try to climb into bed. I need to get new furniture.." and a bigger place, really, but that'd have to wait. At least get the furniture for now. She leaned back, kissing his cheek again softly, "Thank you. I promise this won't become habitual."

He smiled and angled his face to return the gesture for once, placing a timid, fleeting kiss on her cheek. "It's fine. A small favour for a good friend." He paused thoughtfully. "Tomorrow we'll put up that tree... then maybe it'll feel a little more like Christmas, hmm?"

She grinned, "I think it's already feeling more like Christmas," she sighed softly, feeling hersel start to drift off. This time, hopefully, she wouldn't have nightmares or anything. Maybe she'd actually be able to sleep properly, though she doubted she'd be asleep as long as Brian. Still, she could turn on the tele or something when she woke-- if he snored, she doubted the noise would disturb him.

Brian allowed his eyes to droop shut, smiling still. He thought about everything- about her recent changes, about his impending changes, and about the possibilities for the two that were laid out in the open. There was a mutual interest. If it would ever go beyond just that was anybody's guess. And he knew that it would be different, vastly different from all his past relationships if they did. This particular woman having the hindquarters of a horse being no small part of it. He chewed his lip, wished he could take off his shirt for the night, leaned more heavily against the back of the couch, and slowly thought himself into sleep as he did every night.




December 22nd, 2006


She woke up only about six hours later. Short for most humans, but for her it was a long, langorous sleep. She was so warm and comfy. There'd been a bit of shifting around during the night, but mostly, she was snuggled comfortably against him. It'd been quite a while since she'd been in the arms of another, and she was loathe to wake him, that was for certain. He looked so adorably peaceful. Carefully, she reached over to the remote and turned the volume on the TV down before turning it on. It was a dull whisper, and she considered whether or not she ought to put it on silent with just captions, but she'd wait and see first. She'd put in one of those animal planet shows about veterinarians that she'd found in the entertainment room, and it was really quite fascinating. She did miss her practice.

Brian continued to sleep. His only reaction was, when Aislinn reached for the remote, to curl an arm around her abdomen and snuggle closer. He too had gone many, many months without having someone to hold at night.

She 'awww'd softly at his reaction, reaching down to briefly run her fingers through his hair and kiss his forehead gently. He was so cute, asleep like that. Puppy-like, almost. She hoped that he would not move too much and find his hands against those awful little legs sprouting from her abdomen. That would be an awful thing to wake up to.

Fortunately for Aislinn, Brian's breathing was gentle and even and the snoring he'd warned her about was pleasantly absent. He didn't seem to notice her gentle touch, and continued to doze. Here and there he shifted his legs or licked his lips or turned his head, but otherwise he was motionless but for the rise and fall of his chest.

The time passed quickly enough while she was watching the show. Whenever he would move, she'd gently brush her fingers along his cheek again in a sort of vain attempt to soothe him. It seemed, to her mind, to work well enough, as he continued sleeping peacefully. The DVD came to an end after a couple more hours, and she turned the thing off, as well as the TV. She would have started reading, but the bookshelf was too far for her to grab one. Instead, she watched him sleep a bit, peered about a bit, and thought a bit. This would have been much nicer if circumstances were a bit different, she mused. She could imagine what sort of possibilities they might have had if they were both completely human and normal in a normal world.

After a little while, Brian became quite still as he began to drift into conciousness. He didn't open his eyes right away, trying to remember why he felt so warm, why he was still wearing his clothes from the day before, and where was he? Finally he opened his eyes, slowly, regretfully, and remembered everything. He looked at Aislinn as he attempted to draw his mind away from those tempting edges of sleep, examining her face through the haze of drowsiness. He smiled stupidly.

She was still happily off in the land of thought, and so hadn't quite noticed his wakefulness yet. The Asian woman's gaze was directed at some far-off distance somewhere beyond the Duplex walls, and her ears were pricked forward a bit, giving her the look of some sort of fantastic statue. She pondered if, in all reality, she would have ever met Brian, or anyone as lovely as he was if she hadn't been forced on this place. Or if, even had she met one, she would have appreciated him as much as she did her newfound interest. Usually, he wouldn't have been interesting enough for her...but here, he was exactly what she needed.

With her head tilted in such a picturesque manner, it was impossible for him not to admire her. Brian found himself drawing invisible lines on her face with his eyes, tracing the gentle shadow below her cheekbone, the smooth arch of her eyebrow, the inviting curve of her lips. She was a rare thing, he thought to himself, gazing through half-lidded eyes, a rare thing indeed. Stunning, intelligent, and, miraculously, not a complete b***h. The combination was, at least in his experiences, a rare one. He found himself wanting to touch that face, that soft skin, but bade his arms lie still where they were.

She sighed softly, then turned to check on her snuggle partner and found him awake. A smile lit her face, "Merry Christmas, " she whispered, leaning in close to give him a very equine-esque nuzzle, "Good morning, as well."

"Right back at you," he purred, already in a rather good (if somewhat playful) mood. "It's strange," he rumbled, his voice somewhat coarse from having just awoken, "waking up with clothes on. I normally sleep in just my boxers." Brian was being uncharacteristically flirtateous that morning, for some reason. Perhaps the confidence fairy visited him as he slept.

The woman laughed, "I usually haven't even got that on," she confessed conspiratorily, "Though sometimes I'll put on an oversized shirt. Eric used to love it when I walked around in his..." she gently pressed her lips to his cheek. Take it slow. That was the way. Perhaps. She'd at least try, anyhow.

Brian exhaled heavily through his nose. On the inhale, his senses shouted 'Aislinn!' at him. There was no escaping it, escaping her. Not that he wanted to. Escape, that is. He did want her. Wanted to what, though? The natural answer to that one was definately not going to be happening. Augh! Thinking too fast. "Oohhh reaally?" The biologist teased, his imagination filling in the spaces between her relatively innocent words. That desire to touch became stronger, and he became rather aware of the fact that one of his arms was around her waist.

She smiled, "Oh, yes. He thought it was incredibly sexy." she shook her head, "at least, that's what he told me." She snuggled closer again, wanting to retain the warmth she'd had all night. She'd definitely missed having a sleeping partner the past few years, and it didn't hurt that the one she had now had more attachment, at least, on a deeper level, than her previous ones.

"I'm sure it would be," he murmured, and could think, then and there, of several other things involving her that would be described as 'incredibly sexy'. Ohh, it had been so long since... and she was so fantastic and... it was so difficult not to... Oh to hell with it! To hell with self-restraint! Pulling back only as much was necessary, Brian cupped her cheek with one hand and kissed her.

A bit of red hit Aislinn's cheeks, but she managed to catch her startlement in time to barely return the kiss. Tentatively, she put her arms around his neck, leaning into it. It was such a nice release, to finally do what she'd been trying -not- to since they'd met. But she certainly wasn't going to stop him if -he- wanted to start things..though there were limitations on what she was properly capable of.

Brian lost himself for a moment in the depths of happiness and then jumped back out into hesitation and self-doubt. He ended the kiss reluctantly, gazing at her like a man intoxicated before dropping his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled, his line of sight jumping from the carpet to her, back and forth, nervously. "I..." he trailed off. His assured attitude had fled at the first sign of danger. An imagined sign. An invented sign. But a sign nonetheless.

She released him from her hold, gently reaching up to brush her fingers against his cheek. She wanted -more-...but she made herself relax, calm down, despite the rush of ...whatever, coming over her. "No, it's okay," she managed a wobbly smile, "Really. I...you're not upset...are you?" he looked incredibly nervous, and she wondered if he regretted kissing her.

"No, not, it's not me, I just," he stumbled with the meaning he was attempting to convey. "You're okay with this?" He placed his own hand on top of the fingers that touched his cheek and held them there gently as he peered almost fearfully at her. There was no way she'd want to be doing something like this, with him, so soon. He was certain he'd gone too far too fast. He was quick to criticize himself.

She nodded, smiling, "I would've pulled back, not forward, if I weren't okay with it." Why did this have to happen now, with her half horse and in even worse shape for...well, really, did she want to jump into that yet anyhow? This wasn't like her previous flings. This was more. She could feel it. At least, communications were more open between herself and Brian than they'd ever been with her previous beaus. And she felt a much deeper connection to him through their situation as well. "No, I want...to try this..?" she wasn't sure she was making herself clear, but then again, she wasn't sure what she was saying. She wanted two very different things at the same time, and it was hard sorting how much of it was hormones overacting at their first opportunity in years and how much was really -her-.

"True," Brian said, smiling that sheepish smile of his, "that -would- make sense." He wanted to do that again, but he'd ruined the moment with his stupidity! Not the first time that had happened. Maybe he'd hold back, maybe it was better if they waited. But then he looked at her again, and he felt a jolt of something in his chest at the expression on her fact that looked to him like confusion, uncertainty, but something else, something good. He wanted to take that expression, those feelings. He wanted to give her something to smile about. And damn! He wanted to kiss her! Leaning forward, more carefully, tenderly this time, Brian brushed a strand of hair from her face, ran his fingers down her jaw and neck, and drew her towards him and kissed her a second time.

Aislinn let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as he pulled her forward again, finding herself the one struggling in surprise to keep up with him. It was interesting, how their roles had been reversed in this-- the usually shy man taking the incredibly outgoing woman off-guard. But she enjoyed it still, and leaned into the kiss again. Her arms slid about his waist, and she sighed softly, contentedly, pulling away after she felt it over and gently tracing small kisses along his jaw, "I wish..." but she decided not to ruin the moment with wishes, and left off that train of thought, returning her lips to his instead, and taking another kiss from him. No, there'd be time to worry about those things later. For now, she was going to enjoy what she had.

Brian wondered that he hadn't seen this coming. Then he just stopped thinking.

He indulged all his urges to explore her face, no place on it able to escape his soft, tender kisses, from chin to nose to eyelids. One of his hands took to stroking her long, silvery tresses of hair, and the other rested against the small of her back. It too longed to explore, but this he denied his curious fingers for the time being.

In seconds, she was laughing and returning his efforts, attempting to give kiss for kiss, but with his attempts finding herself more often close to bumping into him than anything else, and so gave up that effort and instead wrapped her arms about his neck and slid her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, laughing in delight. This was what made all the hurt go away. He didn't care that she was half horse, and she didn't mind the pawpads, and they could be happy like this, it seemed.

Grinning at her obvious entertainment, Brian ducked his head down and nuzzled into the crook of her neck, goatee tickling any skin it came into contact with. He felt an incredible happiness welling up inside, something so beautifully simple, something that was pure, innocent joy at having someone to be with and being able to make them laugh. His grin grew even wider, and Brian drew back to beam at Aislinn. "Rrr," he growled jokingly, baring his harmless human teeth in a goofy smile.

She laughed again, "You're ridiculous," she said, batting at his shoulder playfully. She was absolutely beaming and a little flushed from her excitement. "So....the christmas tree?" she asked, "Do you want to start setting that up now?"

"In a bit?" he said, eyes dancing with a light of previously tempered excitement. Brian leaned forward for another kiss, a short one, followed by a second longer one. The hand that rested on Aislinn's back travelled up, his fingertips making a slow pilgrimage along her spine towards her shoulderblades, stopping there to splay out and be at peace... for the moment. Brian was definately not sleepy anymore. Feelings that had long been dormant were beginning to sake the dust from themselves and surface in his brain, and he wasn't about to deny them some excersize.

She grinned, "Sounds good to me," she acquiesced, leaning in for another kiss when he finished his second and playing gently with his hair again. It was so -soft-, like fur. She loved it. She loved everything about him. In particular, though, she enjoyed the warmth reaching her cheeks and the fuzzyness her brain was quickly acquiring. Why had she even brought up the tree? This was so much better.

Brian decided then and there than he definately liked the feel of those fingers in his hair. Mmm, and the feel of those lips... in fact, there was quite a bit going on that he rather enjoyed. A lot. How had this happened? It all seemed so sudden and unexpected and warm and soft and... why bother thinking about it? Brian kissed her again, slowly. He didn't know what it was she was doing to him or how she did it, but this young woman had certainly worked her magic.

She sighed softly, stopping the kisses for a second to catch her breath and give him a playful smile, stretching her arms while keeping them on his shoulders, effectively pulling herself closer to him in the action and nuzzling his neck again, "I think Christmas came a bit early," she whispered, nibbling his ear softly and then tracing kisses along his jaw to his lips again.

He inhaled sharply and tilted his head back when her mouth found his ear. It would seem their new structure, after his first transformation, lent itself to extra sensitivity. In response to this delightful feeling, when her kisses returned to his lips he returned them with a greater level of passion than before, the one hand now trailing up and down her sides, his thumb caressing through the fabric of her shirt as it went.

Thrilled by this new intensity, she deepened the kiss, her fingers still playing through his hair. It was lovely and awful all at the same time. She wanted more, particularly with the level of excitement he seemed to be getting and her own escalating...but..it was impossible, in her shape.

Brian's body knew what it wanted, but his mind discarded that as an impossibility. There were, however, other ambitions he found his thoughts drifting to. Concerned still for her comfort level, he forced himself to slow down and stop for just a moment, stroking her hair as he spoke. "So where... where do we draw the line? How..." he became bashful and choked on the words for a bit, feeling like a fool for having to say them, "...how far is... too far, right now? I know, obviously, the... you... y'know," he looked away, "but that's... not something I would've... not right away, at least..."

She could have kissed him a thousand times more for his concern, "I...don't know," her voice was soft and a little breathy. She tried desperately to regain control over her own faculties, but there were a lot of hormones all acting up at once and it was difficult to do, "We can't...but...I could..." she blushed. She wasn't sure how to explain what she was offering, or even if it was appropriate to offer, but she did feel she wanted to do -something-. She just wasn't sure what.

He flushed as his mind played 'fill in the blank' with her sentence. She was suggesting...? "Well, ah, don't feel like you have to, I mean, what I'm really asking, I guess..." He felt selfish, that she assumed he wanted something for himself... if anything, he wished there were some way he could... but... she... augh! It was becoming more and more difficult for Brian to think properly. "If I... do something, anything... that you're uncomfortable with... you -will- tell me?" Here he looked at her again, losing himself in her eyes as he awaited her answer. It was simply too easy a thing to do, he found.

She laughed and pushed forward for another long kiss, "Oh, Brian. My sweet. I doubt anything you could do with me would make me uncomfortable. But if there were, I'd let you know." She hadn't thought of it all along, but at points the tiny hooves on her abdomen seemed to brush against him...and he hadn't seemed to notice. Something about that gave her even more strength, "The same goes for my part," she said softly, "Just say the word."

"Good," he murmured, smiling. He'd had girlfriends in the past who'd made the mistake of assuming he simply knew when he was doing something that made them uncomfortable. Those relationships had not been his best. He didn't want that to happen again, when it could be so easily prevented. Aislinn was hardly those diminutive, inexperienced girls he'd met in university, anyways. She struck him as someone who would speak her mind if something bothered her.

"So then," he whispered, eyes lowering slightly along with his voice, "...you wouldn't mind if I..." rather than finish the sentence, he brought his knuckles gently up her side and then lightly, cautiously, brushed his fingers across her breast.

She giggled at his touch, but leaned into it a bit too, "Just keep away from the -sides- there and you'll be fine," she leaned in to nuzzle his neck again, "I'm a bit ticklish, you see, and that's not very romantic."

He smirked a little. "Ticklish, hmm? I'll be sure to remember that." He was almost tempted to make their encounter into a tickle-war, but the childish notion was discarded in favour of a different sort of... fun. "Is this more romantic, then?" Rubbing the flat of his thumb in lazy circles, Brian treated her to a taste of her own delicious medicine and began to nibble on her ear.

She shivered in delight, planting kisses on his neck and nuzzling it again. She'd have been purring if she were more feline rather than equine, "mmm...yes." she sighed softly, relaxing comfortably against him and enjoying the shocks of excitement his actions brought her.

Pleased immensely to have earned the reaction he did, he continued his ministrations in the same manner for a little while and then began to bring his kisses progressively lower. At her collar, he ventured a gentle bite and quickly covered it again with a touch of his lips, exhaling over the slightly dampened skin.

Aislinn inhaled sharply at this, shivering again as shocks of pleasure ran through her, then, she pulled away. They shouldn't...she was getting too wound up, that was the problem. And he was too. This was too...beautiful to end with frustration. Gently, she kissed his lips, "No," she whispered, "We should wait." she didn't -want- to, but she did. She brushed his cheek with her fingers gently, "Okay?"

It stung a little to hear her say it, but he knew she was right. "Alright," he said back, quietly, and then, "Sorry." He should've known better. Got too carried away. What if he'd freaked her out? What if he left today and afterwards she avoided him, because he'd ruined a perfectly good friendship? Brian tried to force down the panic and keep his cool. He averted his eyes for the hundredth time.

She could see the panic in his body language and held him more tightly, "No, it's not that," she said, her eyes filling. She hadn't meant to upset him. The last thing she wanted was to lose him. "I mean...I do love you. I just don't want to go further and end up with both of us unhappy in the end."

"Love?" He repeated, perking his brows. "It... it seems a bit early to be using words like that." Love was an awfully strong word, and he knew without even having to ask himself that while he did feel strongly for her and wanted to pursue some manner of relationship, he wasn't in love with her... yet.

She blinked, colouring, "I didn't mean it like -that-..." she pulled away, and nearly fell off the couch for her efforts, "Augh!" she grabbed him again, pulling herself back up, and straightening out, "I meant...I don't know. In a close-friends with possibly more sort of fashion. I adore you. Is that better?"

He smiled, feeling silly for having contested her vocabulary, and waited for her to regain her balance before enveloping her in a hug. "That's a little more succinct, yes," Brian replied, an underlying laughter in his tone. "In any case... I adore you too." 'J'adore,' his mind randomly supplied, in what little French he remembered, 'Je t'aime.' "I understand. It's alright, it's always better to take it slow than to go too fast. You can always speed up if it's not working out, but you can't take back something once it's said and done."