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 Posted: Wed Jan 04, 2006 5:31 am
Pyroth's dreams that night were odd to say the least, restlessly he flitted in and out of sleep, accompanied all the while by strange nonsensical fragments of reality and a sort of greyed out non-dream state. Sometimes he would twitch and whine as he dreamt, actions all too reminicent of the creature he was becoming. At 3, when the explosion hit, Pyroth snapped awoke faster than he ever had done, his hackles raised, fangs bared. "What the hell?" he queried as he watched the only light in the room, the tiny one on the intercom, flicker and die.
Just as he reached the door and outstretched a clawed hand to see what was going on outside, he felt himself slump to the floor, his body unresponsive, everything fading to black.
-------
When he came to, it was no longer night, that much was clear. Bright daylight shone through his closed eyelids, turning everything a rich crimson. He remained that way for a time, lulled by that blissful ignorance that always accompanied waking, until, in a rush, last night's bizzare "dream" came back to him.
He opened his eyes, only to be met by a sea of lush green. The jungle? He sat up. Surely he could not have been sleep walking again? He looked around. No, no boar, no nothing. This certainly was odd. He got to his feet and stretched, not too unnerved by the state of things. This was not an uncommon event, Pyroth all too often these days woke to find himself a little ways into the jungle for one reason or another.
Of course, he didn't usually feel this ill on waking.
Well, there was nothing else for it, he would head back to the villiage, get a cool glass of water and go back to bed.
However, not everything seemed to be going to plan. The more Pyroth walked, the more it became clear that he was much deeper in the jungle than he usually ended up. His sense of direction wasn't really up to snuff either, the only thing he was using to lead him was his nose and the faint mostly human scent of the villiage was a golden thread of hope in a cacophony of scents. He almost lost the trail several times, having to wander blind for a while, the jungle feeling too pressing and intrusive to his mind.
"If only I was becoming a panther or something." Indeed, maybe then he wouldn't feel as awkward and slow in this place, his progress stilted by the thick, almost impermeable undergrowth. He battled his way ever onwards until he had to stop for a break. Sitting down in the humid heat, he let himself pant a bit. Sure, it was as undignified as things came, but he wasn't going to cool down any other way. His fur was drenched anyway with condensation, something which taught him new methods of discomfort.
"Rediculous place." he groaned, glowering at the many plants around him as if, yes it WAS their fault that he was stuck here. Well, at least in his current condition he was slightly better off than some people might be in his situation. Or not. They might all be out by now with him left messing around. This thought gave him renewed motivation, and, getting to his paws once again, he sought out that faint, so faint, but nevertheless essential scent. It took him the best part of 20 minutes to find it, but when he did, he was off again, forcing his way through the forest, his expression feral, his every sense cast aside in favour of the nose.
When he arrived at the villiage, it took him be surprise. He shouldered his way through some plant with waxy leaves with so much force that when he met with no more resistance than thin air, he hit the ground. He lay there for a moment or two, trying to get back the air he knocked out of his lungs before looking around him. It was quieter than usual and the smell of breakfast cooking was nowhere to be found on the air. What was going on?
He investigated his duplex, curious to see if last night's dream had been real and was shocked to find that his door was now firmly and undeniably locked.
"Well...Damn."
What to do now?
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Posted: Wed Feb 01, 2006 3:50 pm
The next time Pyroth is wandering about in the jungle area, his feral senses pick up a VERY strong scent - specifically, something that jives with his coyote instincts. It almost seems to scream prey to him - specifically 'deer'. The scent claws at your stomach, aggravating your hunger. Mixed with the time of isolation in the jungle. However, as you follow the trail... eventually you find yourself upon Emerwyn. The scent is unmistakably coming from her.
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Island of Moreau Vice Captain
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Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2006 5:20 pm
Pyroth hunts Emerwyn (to his own horror) only to somehow regain his composure and gain a travelling companion for a time. Pyroth Ignatius
As Pyroth stalked through the forest, hunched low to the ground, his now yellowed eyes focused entirely on his "prey" his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't smell the wondrous scent that led him ever onwards, instead he was merely a slightly bemused spectator of the feral thing he had allowed himself to become. He had been hungry and alone in the jungle, lost beyond aid When it had gotten too much he had taken a back seat to instinct and let himself hunt, scavenge, whatever he needed, to keep going. Every now and then he checked back at the duplexes, hopeful that somehow sanity would be restored, but it was all too often in vain.
Dining on living meat wasn't too bad, his sense of taste had altered enough to make it palatable, but still there was always that little niggling voice reminding him that no matter what happened, he was human, and by human standards, his behaviour was appaling.
Part of him didn't care, the other part did, so he was torn and tried to retreat into himself.
He had walked on after the fain scent through the night, ignoring fatigue, ignoring the complaints of his muscles and senses until finally he was surrounded by the irresistably sweet scent he had been tracking. Like something out of a nightmare he emerged from the undergrowth, hackles raised, fangs bared.
Only to be met by the sight of an islander, asleep not too far off.
It was enough to boot him from his place at the back of his head. What followed was a battle of will, human versus coyote. One side saw a meal, the other saw a potential murder. It didn't help that Pyroth's morals were already stretched by his past profession. Needing to do something, anything, he snarled, loudly.
Please wake up...but oh god, don't run. Don't run.Emerwyn The next day, Emerwyn was not in the same place. She couldn't have been. The bush she had curled up to sleep in had grown over her. All she saw was a tangle of green, covering her on all sides. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. Her voice was drained, her throat dry and scratched, no doubt still lined with traces of blood. She burst forth, breaking out in a sudden burst of movement. The bush gave way with almost no effort, and she sat up, breathing rapidly. All around her, the jungle seemed to be moving, breathing... laughing. The whole jungle had joined in the Cat's game. He was back, and he was stalking her again. She looked up, all about the trees. Her only concern was up in the trees. She crawled backwards, up against a trunk, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth had somehow managed to win part of the battle, just enough to keep him frozen in place, watching, waiting, his muscles still very tensed, but for now, under his own control. But the hunger, the claws that tore at his insides, the ones that urged him, like dark shadows, to give in to the instinct, were ever present. But it wouldn't hold forever.
He watched in a sort of mute facination as Em woke from her sleep, seemingly after a not too pleasant night.
The movement jarred him back into action and, with a low growl, he prowled around to a position in front of her, where he could see her face, perhaps being able to see clearly that indeed, it was a human he was up against would be enough to quell the viciousness in him. Also, if he was lucky, she would spot him. After all, his sandy fur was very stark against the greenery.
If not, he was in trouble himself.
He had never ever been in a situation like this before, where his body was vying with himself for control, for decisions, and it had to stop before he got himself into more trouble than he needed to.
Words were beyond him, his throat so strangled with the snarl that threatened to spill out even as he stood there, eyes fixed on Em, hackles raised. Emerwyn There was someone watching her now... She knew it; it was far more than the paranoia that had been haunting her the past few days... She began to get slowly to her feet. Her eyes trailed away from the high branches, closer to the earth. She could smell something on the air... Hear a faint, mencaing sound... And feel a pair of cold, hungry eyes upon her. She scanned the area, soon resting straight ahead. Something was there, still among the writhing, reaching trees. Her body froze up entirely. Fear prevented her from moving, making a sound. Her arms clung tightly to the tree. Her soft, brown eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open. The blood rushed in her face as her heart pounded, threatening to leak out of her unhealed cuts. Pyroth Ignatius You could have cut the air with a knife, it seemed to Pyroth right then, to him, everything had paled to insignificance in the face of the hunt. He had heard of being in two minds over something, but had never felt it like he did right now.
One voice pleaded sanity. Look look! She /is/ a human, lost like you were, and probably mortified beyond belief at this psychopath coming at her all fangs and fur! You are human, remember? You have control, you have a mind. Why aren't you listening to it?
And the other, wasn't really a voice at all. It was like a suppressed reflex, a knee-jerk reaction, barely under control. It smelled the blood, saw the fear, the freeze of all movement and instantly demanded the kill. It was much older than the rational mind, older than Pyroth, a command that ran in the blood. It had never hunted deer before, normally they were too large, but it could adapt, and Pyroth was bigger than it was used to, it evened out.
Pyroth wanted to listen to the sane voice, he really wanted to, but the other was so powerfully seductive that he couldn't help it. All he could do was slow himself to a walk as he stepped into veiw, fangs bared, fur bristled, his every muscle this time, tensed to pounce. He was growling like a maniac, the sound all at once sweet and terrible to him. Over it all, he managed to snarl a word or two.
"Can't help this, get out..of here...I'll hold it forrr as long as I can...."
It was almost painful to resist now, the scent of blood strengthening with the quickening of Em's heart.
"..which won't be very long...I'm afrrrraid."
Emerwyn Emerwyn was terrified. It was... another Islander... Just like her... no, a predator. And he was on the hunt. At first, she couldn't move. She wanted to speak to him, but couldn't find any voice. What would happen if she ran? The whole jungle was looming over her, poised to strike as the man? with the yellow eyes. He tried to warn her, but it was taking far too long for her to break away. Slowly, her hands removed themselves from the tree trunk. Her whole body was tensed; it did not tremble. Her animal instinct made her too frightened to tremble. Her first thought was if she stayed perfectly still, she would not be seen. But she soon realized this was rediculous, and she side-stepped, oh so slowly, away from the tree, never removing her eyes from the predator. Whether she wanted to or not. Pyroth Ignatius Slow movements were good thought Pyroth, they left him with time to grab the reins to constantly kick the image of Em as a deer out of his mind as preposterous, but his nose did much of the thinking in his current shape it seemed and it was insistent he was letting a good thing go to waste.
He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his hands-gone-paws into fists, nevertheless, his nose was paying attention, disregarding his eyes and after a moment or two, he could no longer fight the losing battle.
He just hoped that when he opened his eyes, it would be on an unharmed person.
A snarl and he lunged, fangs bared. Emerwyn She stumbled backward as he lunged, and tripped. A sharp pain shot through her spine as she landed, and it hurt to get up. But she got up as fast as she could; she had to. She wobbled around as she gained her footing again, and she turned and began to run, as fast as she could. ...But inside, she knew she could never outrun him. Pyroth Ignatius As Em ran, Pyroth seemed to lose himself, charging headlong through the jungle after her, the blood thrumming in his ears, shoving his way through the unfamiliar terrain like a thing possessed. "Thisisn'thappening" he told himself, but it was.
He ran and ran for what seemed like an eternity and moments at the same time, steered by his own thoughts. Always following the scent, the flashes of vision that met him here and then. Once or twice he even ventured a snap of his jaws, lamenting his lack of a decent muzzle.
Once he fell quite a distance into a dip in the tree roots, eliciting a sharp yip of pain as he knocked the wind out of himself, but then he was scrabbling to his feet again, and running, limping onwards.
However, the instinct that bayed for blood madly in his head was not used to this dense forest and struggled to maintain a single thread of scent, a single focus. It was too tight, too thick, he couldn't get up to a sprint, Em was always just out of reach, a fang's breadth away. Some part of Pyroth seemed to be treating this as a mission, in terms of assassination, he had never lost a quarry, this time he didn't want to be his first.
But thankfully for both of them, Pyroth was not fully transfomed, not fully out of control, and he was drastically underweight to begin with. Not cut out for exertion of this magnitude, he found his own muscles betraying him and failing, his body out of breath, and finally, as he slumped to the forest floor, his mind cleared of that horrid mist, leaving him in pain, panting and in a state of bottomless horror at himself.
"Oh god." Finally, the words were human, not a growl, but he couldn't trust himself any longer, this could just be a lapse in that feeling, that horrible loss of self. Emerwyn Emerwyn dashed along; her own two legs surprising her as she went. However, the panic-induced speed was rapidly wearing off. She could feel his ragged breath on her back, reminding her that she was so close to being killed. There was no other way to defend herself, but to run, and keep running. He fell back. He spoke. Emerwyn heard the human voice, and some emotion in her compelled her to stop running, a good twenty feet ahead of him. She leaned on a tree, panting for breath, looking at this creature created by a madman. There was sorrow in her eyes. Pyroth Ignatius To say Pyroth felt like a fool would be a massive understatement, he had actually gotten a thrill from the hunt, from the chase through the jungle. Now he was paying for it, of course, in his pain, lack of breath and sheer humiliation.
Flipping over onto his front he dragged himself over to a nearby tree and propped himself against it, panting like a canine. Only when he got his head together did he realise that Emerwyn was still there, she hadn't totally dissapeared when he fell, something that actually made him feel a little better, maybe she somehow understood that he hadn't been able to deal with the rush of emotions, of feelings.
He shifted his brilliant yellow gaze to the ground, unable to meet her gaze. "I'm so sorry about that. I couldn't control it, it was the scent..and the hunger out here. I mean, I ate a day or two ago" a horrible memory of an unfortunate rodent too slow to escape "But I'm /always/ hungry." He closed his eyes. "I wish it would stop."
Only now did he realise the magnitude of what was happenning, it was inevitable, he was falling deeper and deeper into places he didn't understand, he'd thought it would just be his body that was affected, fair enough, he'd abused it all his life.
But not his mind, that was sacred. Emerwyn Emerwyn looked still on at the man, sad for him, but as of yet too wary to get any closer. The trees still swirled, mocking her for her foolishness. But they were more threatening than he. They wanted to kill her. "I-I'm scared." But it wasn't just of him. That much was readable in her voice. What was Emerwyn scared of? He was suffering badly. She wanted to go to him, to comfort him.... But she didn't know what he might do. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth shook his head, trying to somehow shake out that side of him which had turned so swiftly negative. Just a moment before he had felt like he was drowning in himself, now it was nowhere to be found, he was alone in his head, for the most part.
He looked back at Emerwyn as she spoke, noting that there was something more than a fear of him there. He tilted his head slightly, a little confused. "Of what?" he asked simply. He hoped more than anything that it wasn't him and his stupidity that had put her in that state.
He wasn't scared here in the jungle, anxious, worried about his sanity but not scared. Some deep-seated confidence that he'd never really had before he came to the island seemed to flow with him.
Sighing again, he shook his head "I don't know what happened on the island with our duplexes, anything, all I know is that everything got more confusing." letting out a hearty sigh, he added "And I think I'm okay now, the feeling is gone again. I'm Pyroth, not some rabid psycho"
Damn. Emerwyn Emerwyn felt a little more relieved now, at Pyroth's now calm speech. Where to begin? Emerwyn's fears. "... Of what I've done..." she didn't go on. It was all so fresh, visible to her this very moment. Everything that haunted - and hunted - her now was all by her fault. "Confusing... yes." Emerwyn clung idly to a branch, looking down slightly. "So many things... " She looked up. "I'm Emerwyn." "Are you... sure?" She started to step toward him slowly, tentatively. Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth didn't quite understand what Emerwyn meant by what she had done, but he didn't pry at the moment, no doubt she was still shaken by the utter surrealness of moments ago, he certainly was. Pyroth had been alone since he last met Colche, which was a long time for someone who wasn't sre what shape they were meant to be.
He waved a paw "Yep, I'm as sure as you can be about anything in this godforsaken place. Besides, if I did decide to chase you again, I'd probably have a heart attack, I'm no long distance runner, I'll tell you that much."
A nod "Nice to meet you Emerwyn, I'm sorry it had to be under such...absurd, circumstances."
Emerwyn Emerwyn smiled. It was bizarre, the transition this once-monster had just made, so suddenly. Part of her screamed not to trust him, but the other side won over, and she made it over to him, and knelt down beside him. "Do not worry. Everything about this place is absurd..." she sighed. "I no longer know what to think, and when I do, I'm not even sure if my thoughts are my own..." She wondered about how much sense this made, but it truly was the only way to express how she was feeling right now. It was so easy to talk to someone who didn't know who you were, or what you'd done - Even if they had just tried to eat you alive. Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth was a deeply erratic character even before he came to this strange island. Snappy and sarcastic to those he knew well, he always put on an air of benevolance towards those he did not. Since his arrival here, he had gained another personality trait, one that blurred the lines, made him more likely to snap at others, to even be somewhat callous of their feelings. It was irritating him. Nevertheless, it was a relief to him to note that this nature did not flare up again as Emerwyn kneeled alongside him, still, just in case, he tried not to breathe through his nose.
Pyroth understood only too well what he was being told. "I know, it's the same with me. It's as if there is someone else in my head with me..not really someone else..something else, something old and primitive." he blinked once, trying to drive out the memory of that red hot rage that had lifted him irressistably into an all out run.
It worried him, not that he might kill someone because of this, he had done that all too many times in his old employment, but that he might end up harming or killing someone involuntarilyEmerwyn It was comforting to have someone to empathize with. For it was very lonely, what they were going through. Emerwyn thought about what Pyroth had described, and found that it was true. The strange feelings that she got, they didn't feel new.It felt like they were always there and somehow... awakening. "Something that we cannot overcome... Not alone, anyway." "We don't have to lose this battle." Emerwyn moved her hand to Pyroth's and took it. She ran her fingers over his palm. She felt a rush of fear go through her as she touched his hand. Here was a mortal foe - no, here was a fellow sufferer. She would fight her tempatation to run. He could fight his temptations... or he could give in. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth nodded. It was harsh to hear the truth said aloud, indeed he had tried to take on this bizzare new force on alone and failed, he, at least could not deal with it alone. He had always been a defeatist however, whatever was happening was going to happen anyway, no matter what he did. But still, you could always stand against it in the meantime, after all, if he let himself think like that again, he would start once again losing perspective and thinking that death was inevitable, so why delay it? Those times he never ever wanted to return to, not with the scars already being covered by fur, this was a second chance of sorts, one he couldn't let slide.
"You are right, you know." he conceded, it was a losing battle. However, as Em took his hand...paw..whatever the heck it was he did feel a sort of rebellion he had thought long gone bubble in him. Why should they concede to primal instincts? That was what the doctor probably wanted, and if one thing in this universe was certain that was that Pyroth didn't want to make this easy for that skewed man.
He gave Emerwyn's hand a breif squeeze and nodded, his copper gaze serious. "Exactly. Let's show these intrusive animals that /we/ run our own heads." And with that he too suppressed that nasty urge he had to use their proximity to launch another attack on Em. He was human, it was the only thing he had to hold onto out here and he wouldn't harm someone else who knew what it felt like. Emerwyn Emerwyn's heart soared. She didn't even believe her own words until she heard Pyroth. They were stronger than this... and maybe... there was still a chance. Hope. Something Emerwyn had always held so dear. Her greatest power was hope. Whenever things got bad, she knew that there was hope. Hope that her friends and loved ones were still there. Hope that there was someone out there who actually cared. But then, her hope failed. And it didn't all come back in that moment, but the spark was there. She smiled warmly at Pyroth. And there was a fire in that smile that had never existed before. She returned the squeeze, and nodded. There was nothing more to say. Pyroth had said it all. Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth didn't believe in hope, it had deserted him all too many times in his life, it wasn't to be trusted, if he wanted things done, he had to persevere through whatever darkness came his way, things always got better in the end, and if they didn't...well he'd die trying, a win-win situation.
He really was messed up, but it took a messed up person to be him, it evened out nicely.
"So, got any idea how we'd get into the duplexes? Say...the cafeteria? I'm sick of eating raw meat." he didn't mention how he'd commandeered said meat, assuming that was pretty evident.
Getting to his feet, Pyroth noted a lingering unsteadiness in his legs and a pain in his ribs, apparently his falls had taken their toll on him, it was just a slight delay in their protests. Nevertheless, he didn't complain, simply used his tail to get balance.
"Or do you have any idea where the others might be?"Emerwyn "I haven't found my way back to the village yet. But those I've seen told me they were all locked up - the cafeteria included." Emerwyn pointedly decided not to tell Pyroth that she'd been with Ian and Julian not that long ago. She had no desire to see either of them at the moment... or was, more accurately, fighting the desire to do so. "Th-the last person I came in contact with was Lauren. And that was a few days ago. And... I may have seen a couple of people by the river, too, pretty recently. Everyone seems to be scattered about. I suppose our best bet would be to try and find them, anyone. I feel we'd be better off in numbers." Pyroth Ignatius "Damn. I was back in the villiage a while ago and the same was true. I suppose it isn't likely we'd come across any stry crowbars out here either."
Pyroth nodded, they must be very scattered out here. How would Colche be doing? He hadn't seen her for ages.
"The last person I met was Colche and that was right back when all this bizarreness began, I can't even remember how long ago. And yep, safety in numbers, being out here on your own isn't much fun."
He hated the jungle so very much. It was constrictive, the wrong kind of warm and full of bizarre and unknown bugs and beasts.
"Shall we walk and talk then?" he said, encompassing the undergrowth with a single hand gesture.
Emerwyn Colche.... She hadn't seen Colche since... since she'd first arrived at the Island all together. Such a sweet, innocent girl. And how long had it been, since the lockdown... Since she woke up in Ian's arms... "Certainly. But which way shall we go? I know that the river leads generally back to town... Should we seek out the river first? It's one of the only scents I can pick up." Was she being too analytical? Maybe they should just let the jungle carry them. The jungle... It's view was still warped to Emerwyn. As long as they kept talking... Pyroth Ignatius
"The river sounds as good an idea as any to me right now, you can lead the way, my nose isn't particularly good at finding water out here.It gets too distracted." But yes, the river was an excellent idea
"At least following the river we won't end up walking in circles." Pyroth was actually surprised to be glad of some company in this clustraphobic greenery, lately he'd had no desire for company, so this was a promising change.
Emerwyn Emerwyn smiled, and took a few steps away from Pyroth. The trees laughed at her, trying to pull her farther away. To the lonely silence, in the purple and yellow gloom. A haze came about her eyes. But she shut them away from the visions, and breathed in deep through her nose. It was ever so faint, but it was there. "This way," she said, abruptly waking from her 'trance,' and pointing ahead, a little to the right. "If we keep on this general path, we should make it there within a day." She began to walk, more of a stroll, an actual, comfortable, stroll. Why was she feeling like this? The trees asked her, hissing in her ear. She tried to ignore them. Emerwyn Of course, Emerwyn was not under the influence of drugs. She did not know where these visions had come from; she hadn't given it much thought at all, shrugging it off for the moment as the effects of her extreme physical and emotional stress. Idle chat... Yes, that's all it was. It had been long enough. She didn't have to fall apart every time she thought of what had brought her here. "I was living in New York City, in an apartment above a bookshop. I was the co-owner. I lived with my... companion. In fact," she breathed deep. "He is what brought me here." She didn't go on; she'd wait to see if Pyroth was actually interested in what she was saying. Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth was interested in what she was saying, very much so. Hearing stories of the outside world reminded him that it did still exist out there, probably unaware of their plight. It was comforting and worrying all at once.
"MmmHmm" he nodded, subtly hinting that he was listening
"How was that, if you don't mind me prying?"
Emerwyn It actually felt good to talk about it. "Jerrick had gone to England, my homeland, to be with our friend - her mother had just passed - and I had to stay behind and mind the shop. It was only for three weeks." "Three weeks, I promise.""...But, then, he didn't come back. I didn't hear anything... until about a month after he'd gotten on the plane. One week late. Ketta called. She said, she said he never made it to England. Two more months we searched... I stayed in the U.S. She called me again. There was a lead; they couldn't say any more... I-I took a boat across the ocean. I never made it to England, either." Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth listened intently as they walked, his imagination drifting along with her words to England, a land he had only ever been to on assignments and whose atmosphere had been too often a blur to his all too often drug addled awareness.
So she had been left with an unanswered question here on the island? Was there any worse fate? At least he knew the only individual that mattered more than anything back there - Khan - was safe and probably still doing tattoos to this day.
"Damn, they caught you here before you could find him?"
He didn't ask if Em had suspicions of him setting up her arrival here, he didn't want to upset her.
"Surely the doctor could tell you if they found him? Then again, would that only make it worse?" he frowned, this damned island only made life more complicated than it needed to be. He missed being in his good old high don't-give-a-s**t mode, when he was normal, he thought too much, way too much. Emerwyn Emerwyn's voice trembled. "Yes. For all I know, he could be-" She stopped. She had never expressed out loud her one most terrible fear. "The Doctor," Emerwyn scoffed. "Even if he did tell me anything, how could I believe him? After what he's done... Everything he says is poison, everything he does a fresh act of cruelty." For only having spoken with the man twice, Moreau had become the epitemy of all that was evil in Emerwyn's world. She had to target someone, and who better than the one who had caused all... all of this? Pyroth Ignatius Emerwyn didn't have to say it, Pyroth heard the unspoken words all the clearer for their silence. He couldn't find words of comfort to offer her, all of them were equally cut off from the outside world, it was absolute.
"Yes, I guess in that respect you are right. You have to wonder what goes on inside his head though, to motivate all of this."
Pyroth himself found it hard to hate the doctor despite of all that had happened to him and the others, lives ruined, nature violated and all of that stuff. Despite all of that, he couldn't help but feel somewhere in his skewed reality, a little grateful. He might hate coyotes but he respected nature in it's entirety and was quite glad to note that with the transformations and bizzareness came a feeling of youthfulness, in truth, he was gradually feeling stronger than he had in a long time.
But still, Pyroth's personal feelings on the man didn't stop the empathy he felt for Em. It would be awful knowing that an untrustworthy individual held the truth that could put your mind at rest, but even if he did relinquish that knowledge, it remained of an untrustworthy source.
"I'm lucky, I suppose. I only left one person behind in this whole wide world. His name was Khan." he looked straight ahead, intent on the matter at hand, the travel through the jungle. Pyroth had no family left, no connections, all had been severed to set his career in motion.
"We co-owned a little tattoo parlour, it was a sort of cover for the work I typically did. He probably thinks I'm coming back still." Emerwyn This was healthy for Emerwyn, though. Somehow, it helped to direct anger towards one certain person. It helped to divert the anger from... other people. People who really didn't deserve it. A tattoo parlour. Emerwyn had respect for people who did art like that. And the people who bore the pain of getting that art. The work he typically did? Emerwyn decided not to ask. "Would he look for you?" Emerwyn wondered if Ketta and the others had given up on her yet. Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth shook his head "Nah, he wouldn't look for me. Not because he didn't care." he flicked his ears back slightly "But because I often had to dissapear for months at a stretch without telling him where I was going. He knew there was always a chance I wouldn't come back."
He swept a large leaf out of his way only to unveil another obtrusive plant. "We understood each other, lived for the moment that was there, enjoyed each other's company whenever life allowed us to. " Khan was always easy going though, took whatever Pyroth could throw at him, scathing remarks, secrets he couldn't divulge, anything, all with an easy grin. "He probably knows this time there is a chance he won't see me again, but that's the nature of the game I played. I'll remember him, he'll remember me."
It was tempting right then for Pyroth to touch his face, just to make sure his tattoo was still there, he could tell just by it's texture before. But now only fur would meet his touch, something which irked him. It was his reminder of the outside world and already it was being taken away from him by these changes.
"Though, damn, sometimes late at night, I really do miss having someone to get raging drunk with and to swear profusely at the TV." a wicked grin, it really had been too long.
He shook his head "Khan was the only person out there who would even give a damn about seeking me out. What about yourself? You have family or someone who would look for you?"
Emerwyn Emerwyn couldn't help but feel sad for Pyroth, however nonchalant he was about the situation. All she ever had after her books were the people who she shared them with. He seemed content enough simply to have the memories of his friend. I suppose it makes sense, after all. If that's all you have left to hold on to."It's both joyful and saddening to know there's someone worrying about you." "Well, my parents..." Her parents. She had never spoken about them... She never even thought of them. "They won't even know I'm gone. But, my friends... back from the bookshop. They were my real family. Them, and Jerrick. However, we recently went our separate ways." Until Jerrick disappeared. Then, they were reunited... "Maybe they linked Jerrick's disappearance with my own..." she thought aloud, not even aware that she did. Pyroth Ignatius The red haired man had learned never to believe anything was forever, everything in his life had a tendency to be taken away from him in the end. When he was younger he had blamed himself, hence the scars that even now remained vaguely visible beneath his fur, these days he just picked himself up after a while and kept right on going.
"Yeah, it is. Nice to know that someone out there still cares enough to toss a thought your way, sad that you have to be the cause of their sadness."
"Ah well, no use tearing ourselves apart over it, we have no more say in our fates than lab rats." Indeed, it was the helplessness that bothered him, once completely self sufficient, needing no one to survive, now he was trapped on an island by the whims of the doctor. At least he could still catch his meals, even if it meant using fangs and claws.
Pyroth was distracted by a faint sound nearby, a sort of rushing, bubbling sound. It had been growing in intensity for some time and only now proved loud enough to draw his attention.
He looked back over his shoulder and added "Seems we've found the river." Emerwyn To be the cause of their sadness... that's all she ever was. Somehow, Emerwyn always found a way to blame herself when things were going wrong. Emerwyn didn't like to hear others say there was no hope. She'd heard it too much from her own mind. It was so easy for her to console others; she saved the harsh truth for herself. "There - is always something we can do," she said lamely, mostly to herself, only half-convinced in her own words. Emerwyn didn't realize how close they had gotten to the river, she'd been so distracted. She inhaled the smell deeply. Past only a few more trees, surely enough, the river waited for them, a cool and refreshing release from the images that eternally haunted her. "So we have. A welcome change in scenery, to be sure." Pyroth Ignatius Continuation of the rp from the jungle.
Pyroth merely smiled wistfully as Em offered her words of hope. He appreciated the sentiment but had long ago given up whatever hope of escaoe he had cultivated. It took a unique kind of person to selectively set aside morality to kill for money and it was that uniqueness that let Pyroth persevere even when there really wasn't much hope in the future.
The red haired man could barely suppress his gladness at the sight of the river. He really liked the bubbling, flowing water, it slaked thirst and also, of late, had provided a good place to clean his fur and clothing. Any dust or whatever was just swept away on the current.
"Excellent. Now, at least, we know we won't wander in circles, or go thirsty." as if to state his point, he headed down to the pleasingly cool water, and, cupping his hands, took a deep drink of it. It felt like the best water he had drank in years to his parched throat and it really helped slake his thirst. Still, it bothered him that his instincts clashed once again in the simple act of drinking and it was all he could do not to lap the water like a canine.
Stepping back out of the shallows, he glanced over to Em, and, with a grin, stated "Good nose." his could never have picked out water from the clash of scents that came from the jungle around them. Emerwyn Emerwyn couldn't argue with the coyote-man's logic. She really needed the water now, too. And the food. The foliage was best around the river, too. She dropped to her knees hard, kneeling directly over the cool waters. Emerwyn flashed a genuine smile at him in thanks. Then, she turned back to her thirst, taking in huge handfuls. After a while, when she decided she wasn't getting enough, she plunged her whole face into the water, drinking and cleaning herself. Dirt cleared itself once more from her swollen wounds, opening them again, if only slightly. She brought her face up out of the water to shake her hair out. But she didn't come out. She was sitting up straight, but her head was still completely submerged. Emerwyn brought her hands up frantically to her face, and moved down to her throat. She choked, and bubbles came up, forming around her face. Farther away she moved from the river, but the water was all around her. She could see the trees through the depths. The entire jungle had become submerged, and she was being drowned! But where was Pyroth? Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth himself was only too content to get his fur cooled by the water, and he could care less that now his tattered denims weighed about three times what they had. Out here, they would dry in time, hopefully cooling him as they did so.
He didn't watch Em too closely, his own attention divided slightly, but when he did turn his gaze to her, she seemed to be slowly sliding into the claws of some terror. His hackles stood on end in anxiety as he watched her illogical terror. It was terrifying how swiftly tranquility turned wild once more in this place.
Pyroth was torn, he had no clue what to do, wether to see if her lapse in clarity passed on it's own, or to interfere. After a moment or two, he realised that it was most likely best to try and snap her out of it lest she walk into the coils of a snake or some venemous insect.
He cautiously made his way over to Emerwyn, tenatively tapping her shoulder. "Are you okay, Em?"
He had most likely guessed the answer to that. Emerwyn A swarm of red and brown emerged from the bluish-green depths that threatened to consume her. Emerwyn let out a strangled yell; more bubbles erupted in the water around them. Frantically, she reached out to Pyroth. Her arms moved slowly through the water in their warped, sickly way. His firey hair moved about him, floating, a beautiful, cloudy mass. Her hands reached his shoulders as she clung to him for support. She looked at him pleadingly. Swim me to safety; take me up. I cannot breathe. You can save me.He had to pull her back into reality. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth had encountered his share of bad trips in his time, that horrible feeling where logic frittered to worthlessness and reality turned on you, out to do you in. Khan had been the one to help him once on a particularly bad drive.
However he himself had never been in a situation where he had to help someone else. His life had generally been a self centered one, so Em's current state left him floundering.
Taking her arm reassuringly, he tried to lead her away from the river a ways, feeling that it somehow might be related to this, his manners assertive. there, he turned his full attention to her, speaking slowly and clearly in the hope she might hear him, his once deep red, now amber gaze fixed on her own.
"You are fine Em. I'm okay, and so are you. Come on." he flicked his ears back somewhat and added "Don't let it win, remember?"
It really was unusual for him to give a damn about the welfare of anyone, but he didn't want to be left alone in this jungle and he was enjoying Em's company. Still, it was hard to think what to do when part of him wanted to paw at her to see if she was alright. He was not a coyote, that sort of thing was just not mannered.
Emerwyn Pyroth's words drifted almost tangibly into Emerwyn's ear, burning her senses. Hearing sounds from a world you yourself were not currently dwelling in was a bizarre experience. But the burn was enough. Don't let it win...Slowly, she closed her eyes, and stopped fighting. It was the only way to win the battle. The water washed over her, and her ears cleared as she heard it splash away like a crashing wave on an abandoned beach. When she opened her eyes again, the water was gone. She couldn't even see the river anymore, and though she could still smell it, she was safe. Emerwyn turned to Pyroth, and whispered, "Thank you." The smell of water grew a little stronger in her nostrils, but it wasn't coming from the river... Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth couldn't articulate how glad he was to have Em come back into the land of the properly aware, he too had been hopelessly adrift, worried that he might lose the only company he had out here and slide back into the manic and feral state.
No, thank you. he almost said aloud, but halted himself before he did.
Instead he carefully let go of Em's arm which he was still holding onto, aware now that she could maintain herself.
"What was it?" he asked, not wanting to make her relive the experience but to garner how to help her again if it should reoccur.
He remained oblivious to the scent of water, his nose tuned for hunting rather than resource detection. Besides, his head was a jumble of instincts, he doubted he could make head nor tail of the strance scent-colour information that flooded his senses. Emerwyn Emerwyn blinked a few times more, to make sure she was indeed stable. That scent... It was going to rain. "I-I don't know... I've been... seeing... strange things lately. The past day or so. Ever since I left my - last companions. The whole jungle seemed to be coming to attack me. And just now... I was drowning. I couldn't escape the water. Until I heard you... I don't know how it happened." Emerwyn looked up. One patch of sky was discernable. It was dark and cloudy. "It looks like rain." Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth tilted his head slightly, a stray crimson bang getting in his veiw, he swept it aside and said, his tone curious "Really?" That wasn't how it had been for him, his vision hadn't been affected when he was overcome with instinct, he had distinctly felt the two sides of his mind competing. What Em described sounded more like a drug trip.
"Sounds kind of familiar, actually. Sure the doctor didn't slip you something to mess with your head?" he was tempted to ask to see her pupils and see if they were dialated, but for all he knew the doctor could have used a drug with other symptoms.
He looked heavenwards and sniffed, oh yes, there it was, strong enough to be smelled over the scents of the forest, a rolling grey sort of smell. "A /lot/ of rain." Emerwyn Drug-induced hallucinations? Emerwyn hadn't thought of that. She'd been so far from "normal" society or technology of any kind for so long... But, she hadn't felt the effects at all until so recently. If it was a drug of some kind, wouldn't it have to have been administered to her recently? They didn't start till she woke that day. Anyone could have approached her in the night. "Couldn't that mean..." she said, once more errupting out of her own thoughts. "that there could be staff members - doctors - wandering around, without our knowing?" The theory she'd been cooking up. "What if this is all a set-up?" Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth nodded, he hadn't actually thought of that, the implications of wandering staff, and worse still, possibly armed guards wandering the island put him on edge a little. He had somehow deluded himself a bit that he was out of reach of any further changes, that the lab was finished, but if this was a setup then there was every chance they were just being encouraged to flex their metaphorical muscle so to speak.
"Here, I'd say anything at all is possible, and if it /is/ a setup, they are testing us, trying to see if our survival capibilities are improved."
He snarled to himself, his hackles raising, his eyes narrowed at an invisible enemy "I swear, if that is true and some pallid lab aide tries to infect me with any more of that serum, I'll show him his jugular."
I'm good at that sort of thing.
He calmed himself again as he returned to the present, his hackles sinking, his expression returning to normal.
"It sounds like the kind of thing they'd do, doesn't it?" Emerwyn Emerwyn was immuned to being disgusted by the idea. It was probably one of the nicest things they'd done so far. "It's not unthinkable, no." When Pyroth's rage threatened to show again, Emerwyn made a small motion to protect her own jugular. She quickly held back, though. She didn't have to be afraid... Emerwyn tried to cover, and fidgeted a little with her hands. "I-it does. Using us as toys like this. There are so many of us, I'm sure they wouldn't even care if one of us got killed out here." Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth waved a paw dismissively. "They wouldn't even bury us I'd wager, just leave us to the jungle. Then again, I don't count on them for anything, I'll look after myself and defy those assholes all the way." He gave Em a reassuring grin
"And so long as we stick together till we find the others we should be okay, I've had to live in situations like this before, and you are no fool." this comment didn't really equate to the story he had given before about spending all his time in a tattoo parlour, but he didn't elaborate.
"Anyway, we'd better go find shelter before the rain starts, the last thing we need is pneumonia on a tropical island." Emerwyn Emerwyn had resigned herself to the doctor's cruelty, sure enough, but the casualty with which Pyroth spoke of it made her uncomfortable. On the other hand, his feelings against them were empowering. Sticking together. Good company. She'd missed it and longed for it so, she couldn't think of a better idea. "Let's. But... where can we go?" Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth walked on a little way ahead, sniffing the air instinctually, his tail waving as he considered where they could go. "I'm sure there could be somewhere along here, maybe a tree with broad leaves or something?"
He was busy seeking out said place, when, from above, the first flash of lightning and roll of thunder tore the sky in half.
It did not produce the usual Pyroth reaction which would be mild annoyance and wonder. Instead, instincts white hot in their intensity flashed across his mind, the coyote in him did NOT approve of the lightning. In fact, as his ears snapped back, tail tucked and hackles raised, he would have run away if some more residual memories hadn't chosen that moment to resurface, memories that he had been travelling all this time with an individual which should have, by all rights, been his lunch.
He stood there, frozen where he stood, his back to Em, his hackles evidently raised.
As the first rain began to fall, he let out a long, low snarl. Fear it seemed had been the key to losing control again. Emerwyn The crack of lightening made Emerwyn literally jump, her eyes widening and her heart pounding in all her veins. Her head darted around till it met Pyroth's face. And he did not do anything to quell her fear. The look in his face... She stumbled backwards, breathing restricted. "Pyroth," she whispered, not able to emit any sound greater than that. Her back met a tree hard. She felt her way around it, not able to take her eyes from the friend-turned-foe. All she could see were the cruel yellow eyes, standing out in the darker surroundings, and all she wanted to do was run as far away as she could. Pyroth Ignatius It was lucky that Pyroth was still fatigued from the first chase and their trek, otherwise his movements might have been faster, he sprang forward, once again jammed in instinct mode, but as he broke into a run his muscles screamed their protest, he wouldn't be able to pursue Em far, particularly not with the coyote in him so terrified beyond belief.
It was rediculous, he was gradually losing a battle with his own head and looked set to chase off for good one of the only people who had opted to accompany him.
I'm so sorry. he said inside his own head, feeling he had betrayed her.
And all the while, he was closing ground. Emerwyn Emerwyn's irregular breathing was not helping her flight. Her feet hit hard on the ground as this chase and the last merged together, their time between lost in the fear that consumed her. All that existed now was the hunter and the hunted, the predator and the prey. All that mattered was ensuring that she get as far away from him as possible, and never see him again. Somewhere in the reaches of her mind, she felt an overwhelming surge of sadness. After everything they'd done, one stroke of lightening undid it all. Maybe fighting wasn't worth it. She could hear his panting growl grow louder, ever so slowly. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth ran on despite his agonised muscles, decimated in his energy reserves. Still, he was gaining little by little and a sort of sadistic hope drove him. He could see no way that he would avert the surging emotion this time.
But for once, the lightning proved beneficial, as it snaked across the sky again, a boar charged from the undergrowth, terrified out of it's wits. Pyroth didn't hesitate in shifting his pursuit onto this prey, to the hunter, all food was alike, to Pyroth a pig was a more suitable quarry than a living being.
Doubling back with a snarl, he swung the pig out of the air as it lept past him, then, in an unfortunate demonstration of skills gleaned through his old career, powerfully snapped it's neck. Then, still in an instinctual state over logical humanity, he tucked in, hoping, somewhere in his mind that his distraction would afford Em's escape.
It was astonishing how one day the world could be at your feet an the next you were alone in a thunderstorm after driving off everyone else, eating raw pig.
He would never have believed anyone who told him it would happen to him. Emerwyn Emerwyn cried out loudly, urging her legs to keep moving. They groaned under the strain, pur adrenaline the only thing keeping her up. She could swear he was upon her, that any second all he had to do was reach out his claws and pull her down. But then, she ws alone. Or at least, there was no longer a hungry beast behind her. His presence simply disappeared. Gone with a flash of lightening and an odd sound. Against her instincts, Emerwyn slowed to a halt, and turned about, looking for Pyroth. He was gone. His path diverted. What could have happened? Could he have regained his senses, and fled, not wanting to endanger them any longer? Emerwyn didn't know. All she knew, was she was alone, again. She looked in the direction she'd been running. The river was far off, and it felt like this was the course to follow. She moved quickly at first, in case Pyroth was still on the prowl. But, in time, she felt secure, and found herself strolling along idly, almost humming to herself. Free finally from the awful visions that haunted her. At least for now. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth slid into a half dream as he allowed himself to sat the hunger that had been seething in him for a while, the raw boar tasting as sweet to him as any food he had ever eaten. He should have been worrying about his weight, he always had for as long as he could remember but now that obsession, that problem seemed paled. If there had been anything in this world he could have depended on, it was his own mind, now even that had been swept from under him. He was confused.
And Em, he hoped she would forgive him his fallibility but if she chose not to, he would just have to deal.
Apparently the most dangerous combination of all was the instincts of a wild animal and the ability to kill indescriminately that was something humans tended to call their own.
When he next came to his senses, the storm was past leaving only nightmares in it's wake. His paws and face were bloody and his muscles were claiming cash he didn't have.
With a groan he staggered to his feet and raised his nose to the air, it smelled like....civilisation.
He walked onwards.
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Posted: Sun Mar 05, 2006 11:14 am
Pyroth opened the door to his duplex with a paw that was still stained with blood, his mind freewheeling and out of control. It opened for once, reassuring Pyroth that yes, it had been warm food he had scented. What awaited inside was nothing more than a mundane scene, just the way he had left it. The coyote side of him shunned the room, prefering the wild, vivid jungle of sights and smells more real than this artificial construct, it receded. What was left was the old Pyroth, dishevelled, feeling like he had been on a massive drug and drink binge, the faintest of headaches starting to take hold on him.
The events of the previous days, the storm, the chase, the hunt, all of it, seemed like some bizarre trip compared to the slightly musty interior before him.
"Thank the gods." he sighed, making his way over to his bed, his claws clicking on the floor as usual. He sat himself down and looked about him, nothing had been moved or touched, all was as it had been at the start of the ordeal...mostly.
With the return of Pyroth's sense of control returned his sense of social awareness, he was dusty, muddy and a complete mess, what that required was a good bathe, his denims needed washed too. Stretching slightly, he tried to push everything that had gone on till now to the very back of his mind, there would be plenty of time to dwell on that later. For now, all that mattered was getting down to the supply room, getting shampoo and washing up powder and scrubbing himself back to his normal colour.
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Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2006 4:46 am
An interesting turn of events.
Page 129-130 of the beach.Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth always ended up at the beach it seemed. After heh ad had all he wanted to eat, scrubbed his fur till it gleamed, drew till he ran out of inspiration, slept till he wasn't tired. Times like these, when he just couldn't be bothered doing anything, he came down and sat on the sands, in the shadow of a palm tree, looking out at the water. It was an odd border between civilisation and here, to think that water lapping at the seashells and debris washed up could have been skirting new york harbour only a short time before. This was the closest he got to home.
Pyroth had always been deeply contemplative, often finding himself awkward in situations around other people. After all it was hard to be too confident when you were intolerably skinny and dressed like a lunatic.
But whatever. Right here on the beach, all those problems could go ******** themselves. He was a zen master in this spot, everything else was irrelevant. After all, he barely had a home to go back to, just a seedy tattoo parlour and Khan.
With a yawn, he stretched and swept some stray hair out of his sulphur eyes. It wasn't too bad here, he'd deal. Antoinette Devereux Antony had been further down the beach, simply relaxing and smoking a blunt under the shade of some trees. She was too pale to hang out in the sun for too long after her transformation. But the blunt ran out eventually, so the tattooed woman was soon walking back towards the duplexes. She didn't notice the furry man lounging despite the fact that he wasn't exactly hard to miss. She was just stoned, and quite cheery about it. Nothing like a good high to start the day out right. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth was stirred out of his reverie with a jolt from both of his senses seeming to decide to work in unison. There was an unmistakeable scent on the air, one which took him right back to late nights spent in uncontrollable laughter at pointless crap on the tv, of not really caring and spending the day in a pleasant haze. Of using that same haze to numb feeling when he had to.
It was like the smell of a warm cinnamon log fire to a man in the tundra.
He travelled his gaze along the beach, finally coming to rest on a somewhat unfamiliar islander, she didn't seem to notice him though, most likely a result of what she'd just been in possession of. She didn't have any on her at the moment though, he frowned. Ah well, it didn't hurt to investigate this turn of events, if someone on the island had pot, he wanted in on the supplier.
"Hey." he stated, basically checking to see if she would hear him. Antoinette Devereux Turning sharply at the voice, Antony started giggling when she was tripped up by the sand. She had seen him before, but only for a little while. Even in her stupor, she definately remembered the head do hicky with the bird fur things. Yeah. She gave him a long sweeping wave that caused her to lean to the side she finished on as she gave him a lopsided grin. "Hullo~ thar stranger." Wow he was mighty furry... Like a stuffed animal... With feathers... She, in fact, did have another blunt, as well as her usual pack of cigarettes and lighter. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth couldn't help but grin at the familiarity of the way Antony replied to his words. Granted Khan had normally fallen over the sofa by now, but there wasn't one here.
He replied. "Having a good morning?" he asked, quite aware that the answer was pretty self-evident, everything was good when you were high..well, when you weren't on some weird trip. This whole island was a trip of it's own though, so it was win win.
His eyes were drawn to the tattoos that wended across her upper arms, after all when you had been forced to work on the things for years, you looked for certain workmanship. Her's were, from what he could see, very well done. Pity they, like his own would probably end up covered by fur. What a waste.
"Nice tattoos you got there." Antoinette Devereux "Le wunnerful mornin'," Antony purred, tails swaying behind her while they poofed out and then relaxed. Oh she was so~ happy and oblivious to most everything... Including her toes, which she couldn't feel anymore. Regarding his compliment on her tattoos, she simply beamed, sauntering closer to where he was sitting. "Owl 'id 'em... But Owl's not hurr and that means no sex with Owl~." She gave him a pout that was entirely not an expression a sober Antony used when she was sober and being serious. Pyroth Ignatius Cheerfulness seemed contagious and Pyroth found his own mood being lifted by Antony's drug induced contentment. He was jealous to tell the truth.
He tilted his head slightly at her comment on Owl, but after a bit of guessing on his part, he came to the conclusion that owl must have been ******** that she knew. Possibly a partner though in the underground scene, you never could tell. His own grin broadened almost imperceptibly and he chuckled.
"Well, I'm sure when you meet Owl again there will be plenty of /that/ to go around. Afterwards tell him some hairy coyote guy thinks his linework is s**t hot, maybe he'll appreciate it."
With a mental shrug, he decided to try his luck, casually looking out at the sea again, he asked.
"Say, you wouldn't happen to have any green on you..would you?"
Antoinette Devereux "No!" She grumped, though not really staying irritable for long, "He's back home 'n married." Antony entirely forgot about Jamal at the moment. Huzzah for weed clouding the mind. "So alas," she said woefully, blinking when she forgot what she was going to say next. Feeling a bit floaty, the tattooed woman dropped onto the sand next to him, squealing as if she had just gone down some sort of rollercoaster. A really kick a** one too. Green? The tree's had green. OH! Pot! Antony gave him a cheshire-esque grin before nodding and tapping him in the chest with a clawed finger. "I do~ believe I do~," she drawled, looking absolutely peachy, "But what do ah get for sharin'?" Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth shrugged in as disarming a manner as he could. Since when had marriage meant anything? But certainly, if this man was back home then the sea barred the way.
He was about to say something more when the words he /hadn't/ been expecting to hear met his ears - which, being more canine now than human, perked that tiny bit- Okay, everything went right out the window, she had pot. It was tantamount to waving a beer under an alcoholic's nose. Pyroth told himself he wasn't addicted to the stuff, but months and months without it had been torture.
Just as his hopes fluttered upwards, they were dashed slightly, what did he have to give? Nothing. He had come to this island with nothing other than what he wore.
"For sharing? Anything. Anything at all." his tone was deadly serious, the elusive craving was just within his reach and the canine senses only intensified his sense of smell, taunting him with the scent which still hung faintly on the air. Antoinette Devereux Antony lazily trailed a fingertip along the tattoo on his chest, rolling over and swinging a leg over his hips so that she was sitting in his lap. The blunt was procurred from, among other places she liked to stash things, her cleavage. "Ta da!" She proclaimed triumphantly, wriggling the tightly rolled joint in the cayote man's face. Had she gotten his name? Didn't matter. The tattooed woman swayed somewhat from her perch, tails casually exploring things behind her. "Help a girl out," she murred, letting the blunt free hand comb through the fur on his chest. Gods she got horny when she was stoned. Pyroth Ignatius
Now this was something else he wasn't expecting. Definately not something he would have guessed would be going on in his day. In fact he'd predicted nothing more interesting than a stroll on the beach, now it was do as he was told or be refused access to weed. He was ready to show his righteous indignation when Antony made real her claim to possess further weed. His gaze jumped onto it and he could have sworn he wimpered.
Shee-it.
And the physical contact? Not helping. Not with fur.
He gulped faintly and met her gaze. Hell, he had killed people for less than what he would be getting here.
"Damn. You drive a hard bargain." Okay, he was an addict, he'd admit it . Here. Now. He'd craved the stuff since he'd got here, always at the back of his mind, tinting every memory of Khan green at the edges. Just one smoke, one intoxicating blur of the world.
"Anything." Antoinette Devereux The look in his eyes gave it all away; it was Antony who had the control of this situation. After watching him for a moment, the tattooed woman finally grinned wide and then offered the blunt to him. Once he took it, her zippo was procurred and then flicked open quickly so that a flame appeared. She held it out towards him, close enough so that he could simply lean in with the smoke in his mouth and light it. It was her zippo afterall. The lighter was put away after they were finished with it, and her now free hand joined the other one trailing along his chest. Her nails made it much easier to comb through the fur, which was surprisingly soft. "You straight?" She suddenly questioned, eyes widening in a paranoid fashion. This trade wasn't going to work if the man was a twink. Her orgasms were in jeopardy! Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth gladly took the blunt and lit it, expecting to be woken up at any moment, possibly to find himself in the jungle, looking more of a freak than he currently did. But that didn't happen. Which was odd, his luck was often shitty like that. However, he was used to authority and actually preferred being told what to do than to have to do anything himself.
He had taken one, satisfying draw on his little piece of heaven when Antony asked him his sexuality out of the blue. His head was already getting pleasantly clouded, to that point where logic was becoming a sort of square thing, with, like, edges and s**t. He blinked once and raised a brow at her. What a question to ask, just as he was enjoying the weed. His head managed to get itself in respectable order and he answered, half of his mind on her nails which were very distracting. Very distracting.
"Hrmmm...not really. Mainly guys. The ladies, never been a fan of the skinniness. My skininess that is. Not entirely against it though." he was telling the truth, Khan had been his main focus in recent years but there had been years before that..and years before that.
He took another puff of the precious blunt and gave her a slightly glazed grin "Why? Don't think you could match up to a guy?"
This s**t was /good/. Antoinette Devereux With his answer, Antony's expression changed from pleasantly confident to one of someone who had just gotten punched in the stomach. He was GAY?! Oh no no NO! This blunt was supposed to be traded for sex, not for NOTHING. Her tails began to, for lack of a better word, spasm. Twitching was too calm of a word for what they were doing right now. Now what was she going to do?! Panic. "You're GAY?!" She choked, sounding personally insulted by this information, eyes nearly bulging out of her head. His second question didn't even register in her mind, which felt like dust in a vacuum cleaner roaring on full power. When Antony finally managed to congeal her thoughts enough to utter something cohesive, it came out in a type of whimper, "But what about my orgasms?" Those were more addicting than pot. Pyroth Ignatius It was Pyroth's turn to grin and feel in control, he waved a hand vaguely, after taking another puff of artificial courage and grinned broadly.
"Words. I hate that word. No. I'm not gay. Just not picky. Khan was there, so, things go the way they go." he chuckled again, his own tail tempted to wag contentedly.
"As for your orgasms, m'dear, that's up to you." he took another puff on the blunt leaving his words hanging on the air like the smoke he breathed out, noting now that it was really beginning to kick in. He was himself again, not some wishy washy social reject, Pyroth when he was high was confident, invincible in his own mind, the coyote influence only added to it.
He shrugged and with a single claw, traced idly over one of Antony's shoulder tattoos, she was in close proximity, he was high now, otherwise he wouldn't have dared.
Antoinette Devereux A large sigh of relief wooshed from her lips as he 'saved her orgasms' and therefore, her day. She let herself relax, the three tails behind her relaxing to swish against his thigh, or what she thought was his thigh. As he continued talking, a low murr escaped her lips from deep within the squirrel woman's throat, which was only amplified into a shiver when his claw traced her flesh. In her pot induced haze, Antony was absolutely convinced that her orgasms were the only thing important in the world right now. Nevermind that they were in public, on the beach, and probably being watched by a camera. This was life or death! Kinda. Not really. "Well," she drawled, her own claws continuing their motions down his stomach, making sure to dole out extra attention to his lower hips. "Then I'd say we have an accord." Such soft fur too. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth was more content than he had been since he got onto this godforsaken island. The pot coursed through his all too willing veins like ambrosia, tinting everything pleasantly vivid. Normally inhibited by his worry around others, Pyroth was now in his element more than anything else. He grinned toothily and couldn't help but let out the very faintest of pleasured growls in response to her touch. He really had been a hermit in this place. And that wasn't him, not really.
"Fair's only fair."
This wasn't what he had expected when he woke up this morning.
Hell, he hadn't expected something like this EVER.
But, pot could do strange things to you.
When you couldn't say no to it.
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Posted: Mon Mar 13, 2006 1:31 pm
Waking up (132-133 of the beach) Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth's sleep was more contented than it had been in a very very long time. He wasn't in the jungle chasing some unknown precence, nor alone in the deserts of his youth with only the coyote for company. For once he managed to get some good, decent and moreover dreamless sleep. However, as time wore on, he found that a sound seemed to intrude upon his rest, threatening to wake him. He clung to unconciousness with all his might, not wanting to give in to the outside world and wake, but it was futile, the darkness ebbed away like sands through his fingers, leaving only waking.
He opened one eye, his pupil dialating in the light. His mind was still fuzzy, so the beach before him, it's waves lapping at the shore seemed an acceptable substitute for the grey walls that usually met him on waking. At least, it did for a bit, then little alarm bells started going off as his brain got it's reports in order, he wasn't going to like what it had to say, but hell if it knew how it got to this point. Apparently the beach was a bad place to wake up. It linked to the day before somehow..
Oh god.
And like a tsunami it all came back to him, blurred in places like a hazy dream but familiar in the way only being high could be. He could only but look on as the memories lined up. When he finally got his head together sufficiently to gauge that, yes he was on the beach, curled contentedly on the sands. He hadn't considered the lack of clothing yet, when you had fur you sometimes forgot that part of your mental checklist.
He lifted his head ever so slightly from the sand and spotted a form nearby, one that confirmed that yes, he wasn't just dreaming.
"Sweet holy hell" he said aloud, his tone more one of surprise than horror.
Antoinette Devereux Antony, like Pyroth, had also slept well despite the fact that she was not laying on her, or anyone else's bed for that matter. She had grown used to sleeping on the sand during the two months she and Jamal spent living on the beach. Either way, the naked, tattooed woman was quite content and still sleeping when the fuzzy man began to wake. She, per usual, was currently using the cayote man's furry chest as a makeshift pillow, an arm draped casually around his waist as well. It was only when the exclamation hit her ears did Antony's eyes shoot open in alarm. The light caused her to squint almost immediately as she attempted to get a grasp of her surroundings. "Whuappen'd?" She grunted, the sleep still quite prominant in her voice as she slurred the words together. Soon enough though her senses woke up. The smell of the ocean, pot, and ultimately sex. The feel of soft fur that definately wasn't hers against her pale flesh. The taste of salt water and pot, among other things she couldn't identify. The sounds of waves crashing around the pair and sea birds yacking to themselves where ever the ******** they were. And then finally, the sight of her very naked form sprawled on a rather furry naked man. It was cleared to her what had happened, but Antony didn't seem too surprised or shocked. Hell this s**t had happened before... Just not with a man halfway changed into a cayote... That's all. "Well," she started, voice clear of its sleep induced slur, "Good morning then." She didn't bother to cover herself up, and simply sat up somewhat and stretched before shifting to watch him respond. Her tails, mimicking her mood, lazily swished across the loose sand under her. What an interesting way to start the day. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth cringed at waking up Antony, as almost all people everywhere do when waking another on accident. He hadn't really meant to voice his thoughts aloud but some things you couldn't help. His initial wave of utter shock had passed however and he began to get a hold on what was going on outside his head, his nose confirming the scents Antony was aware of, multiplied by about 3 to his nose. Some of them were a little too familiar and made him raise an eyebrow as he constructed a mental image of their source.
A blink was the only response he could think of to Antony's frank dismissal of their current state. Hell, is she could be casual, so could he. Besides, normally he would have been dreadfully self concious of his skin bared to the world, revealing the cross hatching of scars that covered his body. However, fur made that more easy to bear, disregarding that the tattooed woman in front of him probably knew the location of every one of them by now.
He sat up and shook his head, if only to get the sand off his hair, stretching contented muscles. Only then did it actually dawn on him that Antony was naked too, her tattoos perfectly unobscured.
"Morning." he replied with a grin and a yawn, still somewhat dazed by the whole shock of waking, he wasn't fast to rouse in the morning and today was no different, had he not just had one of the best nights in ages, he'd probably be a little more panicky.
He cast his gaze about them for a sec before asking "Any idea where our clothes are?" he was even minus his feather headband, how or when that had happened, he couldn't recall. It wasn't an urgent request, simply a casual ponderance, he doubted many islanders came down to the beach this early anyway.
Antoinette Devereux Apparently, Antony had come to terms with the fact that she had just had sex with such a changed islander, and the fact it had obviously gone well probably helped. She was always cheery after good sex. His questioned caused her to look contimplative for a moment before slowly peering around them for signs of clothes. They were all over the place. This didn't surprise Antony, and she merely pushed herself to her feet, pausing to brush off the sand before ambling over to the closest articles: their skivvies. She tossed his to him before dealing with her own. After shaking out her usual Victoria's Secret items, she slid them on and began to gather the rest strewn about the sand. "I'm Antony, by the way," she mused while bending over to scoop up her jeans, checking to make sure her lighter and smokes were still there before throwing them over her shoulder. Due to their state of waking, the tattooed woman figured names had yet to be exchanged, or that they had both been too high to remember if they had. Once all the clothing had been gathered, Antony lazily walked back to where she had left the cayote man, tossing him his clothes before shaking out hers. Antony took her time, not in any rush as she pulled on the rest of her clothing once the were sand free. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth hated sand in his fur and clothing so made sure to shake or sweep the majority of it off before he got dressed. After pulling on his headband and re-arranging the ruffled feathers he turned to Antony, realising only then that he didn't actually remember sharing his own name. Bloody hell, what had he been like last night? It almost drove him to a surprised grin but he suppressed it.
"I'm Pyroth." he said with an apologetic grin before turning his attention to rearranging his fanged necklace. He then swept further sand off his tail, swishing it abruptly. He wasn't in too much of a rush either, time seemed to move relatively slowly here on the island.
He stretched casually one last time, allowing his sense of balance to return. "Thanks for the pot." and the sex, he all but added, then thought better of it, this wasn't extrovert high Pyroth speaking. "I really need to find out where you got it, or get some more from somewhere." he really did, the craving was nice and strong in him now, the animal instincts fuelling it with motivation. Hell, if doing as he was told was all that was required to get some, he'd do anything, assassins were good at following orders for some small motivation.
"This island is normally too ******** up to take sober." Antoinette Devereux Antony raised an eyebrow curiously at the feathered headband, but her question to be was cut off when he introduced himself. "Pleasure, obviously," she suavely said as she searched her pockets for her lighter and smokes. Moments later, a cigarette was burning between her fingers and she was exhaling smoke from her nose. "Moreau gave it to Jamal, and Jamal to me," she shrugged, it wasn't that big of a deal. If Moreau gave it to Jamal, then she could probably go to him and get more if she needed it. Taking a drag from her smoke, the tattooed woman gave an apathetic grunt in response to his last statement, "Only when s**t gets bad... Like after a ******** transformation..." A sharp grumble in her gut caught her attention, and she glanced down to it as if it were talking to her, "Munchies... Overdue munchies." Food time ahoy. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth nodded "Maybe I'll see if I can get any from the labs, call them later." he wasn't inclined to smoke or he probably would have asked for one. But he definately knew what she meant about the transformations, it would be so much easier to handle if you were out of it. "Good point. Wish I'd had some last time."
"I'm not very hungry, stuffed myself silly last night." In all actuality he was a little hungry but Pyroth's approach to eating was odd, he avoided it until he desperately wanted it, after perhaps a week or so and only then conceded to his hunger.
"Might head back to my duplex and get some drawing done." he smirked faintly "If you ever need any tattoos retouched in future, the "good doctor" gave me a full kit, autoclave and all. I worked in a parlour for a good few years as an artist, I'm not terrible."
And with that he gave her the most wicked grin he had allowed himself to muster that morning "It was a pleasure meeting you Antony. Don't be a stranger in future." and after waiting to see what her response would be, he headed back to his duplex, tail wagging contentedly behind him.
Antoinette Devereux Nodding in response to the food and the tattoo comment, Antony chuckled, "Why retouch them if they're going to be covered in fur anyways?" She looked somewhat woeful about the fact that they'd be hidden away. Besides, she never let anyone tattoo her except people who's work that she knew. Her expression soon turned to a knowing smirk when he told her not to be a stranger, and she took a mental note to find out what duplex he was in for future visits. "Quite one, and I'm sure you'll be seeing me again..." She trailed off, watching him wag his tail as he walked away with a chuckle before turning and heading back towards the village. First the cafeteria and then a shower. After that she was sure she'd be able to find something to do with the day. She was in such a good mood now afterall...
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Posted: Tue Mar 14, 2006 9:06 am
A drink at the bar with Chubbs and Bobby (pg 2-4 of the beach bar) Pyroth Ignatius NEW RP
Pyroth, in contrast to many of his previous moods was positively happy as he sauntered down towards the beach bar, he had had a shower and something to eat from the cafeteria before the idea of alcohol even occured to him. Last he had heard there wasn't any at the bar, but that was ages ago, so his mood was hopeful as he headed over to the wooden counter and checked behind it.
Aha! There was plenty.
With a pleased flourish, Pyroth took out a bottle of whisky and a shotglass, placed both on the counter, sat down and poured himself a drink, listening to the seagulls and miscellenious other birds squawking.
It looked set to be a lovely day. Bobby Reynolds Bobby was steaming after her talk with Ambrose. She was not happy to be stuck here, and turning into an animal... for all she knew, everyone turned into a wolf. The woman had no idea where she was going, just that she was going somewhere.
Finally, she made it to the beach and scanned the area, catching sight of the Beach Bar. A lone figure was there, with what appeared to be an alcohol bottle. Good, she could really use a drink right now! Bobby stalked over. Her hand wasn't as clenched anymore, but a few drops of blood dripped where her nails had pierced her palm...but she was in no mood to notice.
As she approached, Bobby noticed that there was a nother canineman there...and she couldn't tell the difference from the wolfman to the coyoteman, so it seemed to her everyone was turning into a wolf. The woman plopped down next to Pyroth, "Hey, what's there to drink here?" As she had done with Ambrose, Bobby took everything in stride, the coyote's appearance didn't phase her. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth glanced over his shoulder as another person spoke, he was actually surprised to see that the woman who had addressed him was normal looking, devoid of any of the typical animalistic features of the islanders. He didn't comment though, simply raised a brow a tiny bit.
He gestured with a paw at the rows of bottles and comment slimply "Pretty much anything. Why? Come to drown your sorrows?" he gave a wicked grin. Lately Pyroth had been getting more and more like the way he used to be back home. He assumed that the anger that practically emenated from her skin was the source of the woman possibly finding out the nature of the island. Most of the islanders got pissed off at the prospect of being stuck here.
He didn't wait for an answer, merely smirked and downed a shot "Don't blame you, this island is a b*****d." Bobby Reynolds Bobby shrugged and reached forward to grab bottle of vodka. Finally, she noticed the little strings of blood on her hand and stared at it. The sight just mad her more angry. The woman sat back and rubbed as much off as she could on her jeans. Glancing at the coyote, Bobby smirked ironically, "Not so much drown my sorrows as fuel the fire."
She didn't even grab a glass, instead Bobby opened the bottle and drank from it. The liquid burned down her throat and settled horribly in her stomach, but she didn't care. Grinning, almost madly, the woman raised the bottle before taking another, burning drink, "To the island, the one that ******** us all!" Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth's couldn't help but chuckle, well here was something he liked to see, someone who didn't get mopey and down but instead let themselves get pissed off at the whole world. It was a better way to deal. Good stuff. He raised his own glass in a mirror of the mocking gesture Bobby made only the moment before, not even caring that it was his fourth in about ten minutes, he would slow down drinking eventually.
"Cheers"
When he placed his glass down, he took a better look at Bobby, noting more the tinny scent of blood than the sight of it from her. She did indeed look like a recent arrival.
"I'm Pyroth, by the way." he said with a nod.
Chubbs MacKraken Chubbs was dressed up in his usual fashion of jeans, a hoody, boots, his cap and his gloves. With hands in his pockets he somberly shuffled along the beach with a cigarette limply hanging from his lips. He had no destination in mind, just a walk to clear his mind and take his filthy habit elsewhere. His ears where stuffed with the headphones of the iPod Joli had given him, ramming some Rolling Stones into his eardrums. He took a deep puff and blew the smoke out his nose and into the air as he walked. He noticed he was heading by the bar, the place he'd gotten the supplies that lasted all of five minutes in the wilderness. There were people present, one obviously an islander, he didn't know what he would do as he drew closer. Bobby Reynolds No hand was offered, so Bobby didn't offer either. She gave Pyroth a half smile and nodded in return, "Bobby Reynolds. I'd like to say it's nice to meet you, but given the circumstances, I really wish I hadn't.... I wish I was only this ******** rock. Then again, I doubt anyone feels the other way."
Leaning back a little, Bobby inspected Pyroth, gave him a good look. She pierced her eyes, catching sight of his clothing and accessories. Of anything, she doubted she would see an Indian here... Native American, she corrected herself. "So, Pyroth, what's your story, if you don't mind me asking?"
By this time, the woman had no idea Chubbs was nearby. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth wasn't fussed over the traditional greeting handshake, the last thing people generally wanted to do was to shake something somewhere on the border between paw and hand, especially not when they remained human themselves. In response to her comment he nodded, he knew the feeling, most people on the island did.
"My story?" he said "Well, it's a rather dull one" he didn't intend to mention his stint working for the goverment, nothing like a history of disposing of other people, even if they were utter bastards, to drive people off. "I was living at the tattoo parlour where I worked for about 18, 20 years, I lost track of exactly how long" he scrambled mentally, trying to think of a cover story, tattooists didn't typically get sent to islands in the middle of nowhere for nothing. Something came to mind "when my partner in the business decided it would be a good idea to go invistigate styles of art further afield. I heard that out here there was a tribe to study."
He shook his head "Got caught in a storm on the way here and brought in by helicopter. The rest is history." he took another sip of his glass and replied "Yourself?"
A single ear twitched towards the sound of Chubb's approach but he didn't notice the other just yet. Chubbs MacKraken Chubbs sniffed as he flicked his cigarette with his tongue and flicked the ash off the tip. Through the smoke and the sea air he could taste a hint of it. Rum, there was some at the bar, it wasn't Bundy rum, boy would he have loved that, but there was some about. With the two drinking, he really could do with one himself. Not much to say to anyone just yet, he walked his way up to the bar and behind the dark woman as he leaned over and searched the shelves. A bottle of dark rum caught his eye and he took it into his clawed hands. With a quick spin of the lid and a puff of smoke,Chubbs had the bottle open and was bringing it to his lips. With his smoke still in his mouth he begain to drink, and drink. The familiar tingle and burn as the rum ran down his throat felt good. He didn't stop, it all went down, every last drop till the once dark bottle was crystal clear. Putting it down, he considered his next option. Bobby Reynolds Chubbs was pretty much on top of her when she saw, and smelled, him. Bobby glared at the cigarette first, her motherly instincts kicked in, "Second-hand smoke kills, you know." She said it in such a manner-of-fact that she wasn't really offended, just stated it. Forgetting about it, the woman went and faced Pyroth again.
She really needed to work on her story... it wasn't very solid, at least she didn't think so. Sitting back, Bobby shrugged, "Probably more boring... got knocked up at 17, married the man at 18, and was a stay-at-home mom. I got some extra cash by cooking for people, but mostly my husband, Trevor, brought home the bacon. I thought I was coming here for a short vacation... some time to myself, ya know?" Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth listened intently as she spoke, only actually observing Chubbs by following Bobby's gaze, he hadn't seen this islander before either, just how many people had Moreau hauled out here? He gave the man a nod of greeting before listening to the rest of what Bobby had to say. So she had kids and a husband? Damn that would smart. He had never even seen his son, the result of a fling with an old friend, all he knew was the boy's name and that he and his mother lived too far out of reach to pay a visit. Not that she would want him to.
"Wow. Moreau knows how to pick people to whom being stuck here would be the biggest inconvenience. How long have you been here so far?" Chubbs MacKraken Chubbs really didn't hear what the woman was saying to him, he turned off the music and pulled the headphones out of his ears and looked the woman over. " Hmm?" Chubbs saw the guy that she was chatting to, he looked kind of like Ambrose in his animal way but different. He returned the nod and made his way behind the bar to get himself a beer, flick the lid off and sat himself down. Bobby Reynolds Bobby took a huge drink from her bottle. With a sigh, she took a breath and set it down for a moment. "Guess sho..." her words were starting to slur a bit. She probably should have eaten something...
"I arrived this morning, I phink. I am not entirely shure." She eyed Chubbs, "And who are you? You aren't turning into a dog, now are you? The fur looks all wrong!" So, Bobby knew a few things about dogs and canines in general...they had quite a pack on the Canine Squad that she had been trying to get on for years. She still had about two or three left before she had enough seniority... oh wait! She wasn't going back, was she?
With a short laugh, Bobby took another swig of her drink at the irony. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth shook his head, no, not a dog, at least dogs were good and loyal. The doctor probably hadn't known how much he would irk Pyroth by turning him into a coyote, the embodiment of all the things he hated about himself "Nah, not a dog, a coyote." he narrowed his eyes at the offending mental image and added "a dog would be an improvement."
Still, despite the species, he was learning not to care, on a day like this where his mood was too up to come back down, he couldn't maintain the anger.
"But whatever, at least I'm not turning into something non-mammal, I hear going through something like that is a b***h." the word amused him now somewhat, a word taken out of context by people and used as an insult. In a world overrun by Moreaus it would become a gender specific word with no insult attached. The thought was only funny to his mind gradually becoming hazed by the whisky, though not so much as Bobby, he had had something to eat prior.
It was only then that he decided to as what Chubbs was turning into. "Hey." he tried to get the man's attention "What's he making you?" Chubbs MacKraken Chubbs raised a brow at the pair of conversationalists. It looked like he had some major catching up to do to mix with this lot, or at least the woman, she was plastered already. Taking another puff on his cigarette, he scratched his cheek and took a drink. the rum was already working him over. Good, he wanted a buzz, something to deaden his thoughts. Seeing their eyes on him, and the questions, he prepared himself for their odd looks when he explained his other half. " Names Chubbs... and umm... I got a grizzly, a tazzy devil and a wolverine for my stupidity" Bobby Reynolds Bobby didn't even flinch. For her limited time here, the shock must not have kicked in yet. And the drink was really making her to not remember her leaving behind her whole family... although she remain incredibly mad, in almost a rage to be more precise, but she couldn't quite remember why anymore.
Grinning madly, the woman bowed to Pyroth, "My apologeeeses, sir, I didn't know." Hearing what Chubbs was saying, she nodded, "I guesss not efer'one turns to the ca-nines, then."
With an after-thought, and after another sip, Bobby looked down the length of her bottle with a frown, "I vonder what I'm turning intoo... sinfe I am ashuming I am since I had a shot.... thas what Ambrose said!" Pyroth Ignatius
Pyroth raised a brow at Chubbs, his addled head taking a short time to actually get round his words. He was about to say "you can't mix serums" when he stopped. Could you?
"Didn't even know they could do that." he said "Scary." his own words sounding ever so slightly slurred. He intended to stop drinking at this stage, but found himself slightly disregarding his own advice.
He raised a brow at Bobby "Y'know what? I haven't the foggiest idea what the psyh - psycho will turn you into." he grinned "I just treat it like a revers' chrissmas where no matter what you get, it sucks. Shtill, it's not too bad, it is a tropical island after all." He had certainly been enjoying himself lately.
"Y'met Ambrose? How's hee lookin'? As hairy as me?" Pyroth hadn't met the wolf-man in ages. Yes, his words were definately getting harder to say, he was sure of it. After all, he wasn't drunk. Nope. Not even tipsy. Not at all.Chubbs MacKraken Chubbs took a big gulp of the beer, he really didn't like american brand beer, tasted like urine half the time. What wouldn't he give for a carton of XXXX stubbies, maybe some tallies. His friends always joked that six tallies were basically a Chubbs sized six pack. Chubbs listened to how sloshed the pair were becoming, the woman most of all. She was doomed as well, stuck on the island from moment she got jabbed, how could he be so stupid. " Yeah ya pretty much f*cked like the rest of us now" Chubbs got to his feet and searched around for a couple more beers and stuck them in his pocket. " If ya wanna know what serum ya got, buzz someone on the intercom and ask, it's how I found out" With that, Chubbs got out from behind the bar and headed out to the beach, the rum starting to hit his head already. Bobby Reynolds Bobby laughed at Pyroth and winked, "Ahhh, well, you'd have to take off your pants in order for me to make a sound judgment." Of course, it was the drink talking, and she wasn't serious.
Looking at Chubbs, the woman sighed, "I never did like being fugked that vay.... at least I'mmm not alone, I guess.sss..." She shrugged, "What's it matter if I know or not? Not like it'll stop anything, ya...." When Chubbs walked off, Bobby sat as high in her seat as she could and waved at his back, "BYE BYE! NICE MEETING YOU CHUBBS!" With her emphatic waving, she fell off the stool and hit the ground laughing. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth merely laughed in response to her first comment "I was askin' for that one." A little niggly part of his concience pointed out at this point it would be a good idea to stop drinking, lest he end up in that lovely little blackout zone where he couldn't remember anything. He pushed the empty glass aside "For a former housewife, you got some sharp wits on you."
He shrugged, what did it matter? It took him a bit to notice that Chubbs was gone, by the time he did, the man had left and Bobby was on the ground. He looked genuinely surprised.
"How'd you get down there?" Bobby Reynolds Bobby grinned up at the coyote, "I don't rightfully know!" She tried a few times, failing mostly, to get back up on her stool and to her precious vodka that rested safely on the bar. When she finally made it, the woman took another drink, only to find that the bottle was empty.
"Aw crap!" she flung the bottle down and tried to crawl on the bar to reach for another bottle. Instead, Bobby flipped over the bar and landed on the other side. She stood, swaying back and forth, holding her head; and also holding a bottle of Amstel, quite proudly in fact.
Making her way, Bobby got back to her seat and flopped down, "I swear, I usually hold my liquor better!" By then, she was in a laughing fit. The truth was, she really usually did. "Housewife.... damn straight!" Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth coudn't help but break into a bout of laughter at the sight of Bobby falling over the bar, normally he probably wouldn't have found it so funny but through this drunken haze, it was the funniest s**t he'd seen in years.
When she emerged triumphant with another bottle, he cheered her as if she were some brave explorer back from a long journey.
As she sat down he gave her a dismissive wave of a paw "Hey. Inmyopinion, you hav' every excuse to not be upta scratch drink-wise t'day. Besides, s'more fun when you are out of it."
Just one more he told himself and poured himself another shot. Last one today. No more or he'd be ill. Bobby Reynolds Bobby waved him off, with a somewhat bashful grin, "Psht, naww.... you're just being nice. It wouldn't be good to go about insultin' the entertainment now would it?" She took a sip at her beer and stared at it in horror. "That's the nastiest s**t I've eva had! Yuck!"
The woman threw it out and looked at the other bottles, just waiting to be plucked. No.... she was going to stop, she really needed too. One bottle of vodka already has her s**t-faced, and what if she found... him? She would have the chance to pay him back!
Ruddy-faced as much as she could be through her dark skin, Bobby stared at Pyroth and shook her head, "This is crazy!" She blurted it out without meaning to, "this Island, I mean.... Why us? Why the people that are here? Sure, I may have deserved it a little.... but even with the things I did, why make my family suffer? They shouldn't have to think I am dead, it's not fair! And everyone else? I don't think anyone really deserves any of this. Well, I can think of one, if he really is here... but that's it." Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth shrugged slightly before laughing again at her reaction to the beer "That'sh why no one drinks that stuff." he hadn't approved much of that same brand when he'd tried it a while ago.
He nodded enthusiastically in response to Bobby's tirade "I dunno how Moreau picks you guysh, I endded up here because of the storm so he kinda just injected me sinse I was here." He growled, an instinctual reaction these days to anger and added "He doesn't give a s**t about any of that, as long as "science" is doin' okay, to hell with everyone else."
In the coyote-man's own opinion, he /did/ deserve this, quite a lot. He had done a lot of damage to families on his own, albeit to families he never saw, only whose words he might have spotted in the obituaries or something honouring "a good man" or a "kind father" unaware that that same person was a sex trafficer or worse. Still, who was he to judge the worthyness of life? He was just getting a taste of his own medicine.
He said not a word of these thoughts though. "Who might that be? 'might of heard of them." Bobby Reynolds Shaking her head, Bobby just stared at Pyroth, hoping the alcohol would run its course. IF she was indeed stuck here for awhile, she didn't want everyone to know she was a cop.... not right away. Many people can be such assholes to police officers without even knowing them; talk about being judged off the bat! Either way, she let that slip, and she could not afford to do so again, "I don'ts know his name. I just hearfd him at the airport sayin he vas goin' to some island for vacation and that he should get 'special treatment'. He seemed shady, so I stayed away." After a pause, she waited, "He came in the helicopter ride before me, I think." Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth racked his thoughts for anyone who fitted that description but didn't turn up any likely people. He shrugged and shook his head "Nope, not met the guy, though if I do, I'll probably know." He waved his empty shotglass in the air and said "They should send convicts and guys like that here rather than wasting time having them put in prison or gotten rid of." he sounded enthusiastic, as if he had hit upon a really good idea. "Some would have families but those families might've already come to terms with them being away."
He frowned "I've met a few in my time who I'd rather have seen here than where they ended up."
Another shrug "Still, good to know the doctor has a few people who actually belong here!" Bobby Reynolds Bobby nodded, happy by the suggestion, she would be all for that! "Hell yeah! I totally agree... The families usually know more than the convicts that they are screwed anyhows. I'll drink to..." She raised her hand, an invisible glass in hand. Staring at the hand in shock, the woman pouted, "Humrph! I guess I don't have a drink...."
Again, she eyed the bar, and again, her willpower won over the logic in another drink... it came and went.
The woman gave up on it and smiled toothily at Pyroth, "Yeah, you remember if you find anyone like that and be sure to sink your teeth in him for me!" So, it appeared there was some tension between them...but she wasn't about to let the truth slip, not this early in the game. Pyroth Ignatius "Maybe the convicts would actually reconsider what they'd done through a new pair of eyes." he flicked his tail "Or a different gender."
He was still slowly sipping on his drink, feeling a little queasy so slowing to a moderation, the bottle was done anyway.
"Oh no worries, I'll give them something to remember you by if they are as bad as you say. I'm good at that." He let his gaze momentarily wander along the beach and he considered taking a walk to sober up, then realised that he'd probably by upright for a matter of moments.
"So, what duplex you staying in? They are fit for convicts if ever anything was."
Bobby Reynolds Bobby smiled, "True true, although it would be a better punishment if they didn't know about the island beforehand, no? Different gender?" The woman stared at Pyroth, "Oh-my-goodness, they can change that too!?"
"You and Ambrose are such gentlemen!" the woman snickered a bit when Pyroth offered to give 'him' something to remember her by. Her snickers turned to giggles and then soon another giggling fit when he asked her duplex...he might as well be asking what her number is! Somehow, she manage to get the letter, "Thirty-four" out before she was gasping for air. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth shrugged and grinned wryly "I wouldn't be surprised if they could, even something between genders would make an a*****e or two think again."
He had never been called a gentleman in his life, ever and the very made him cringe, he'd make a terrible gentleman, he preferred being a little off-kilter "Ambrose, maybe." he completely missed her actual point.
He had actually been curious how many duplex were present on the island when he asked the question, but only now did his brain, still foggy, catch up with the insinuations of his words and the possible explanation for Bobby's laughter. He threw up his hands and grinned apologetically. He was bold but not THAT bold "Sorry! Nothing meant by that. I just realise now how many people I don't yet know."
"I'm in number 5, been here a while." he chuckled, seeing the funny side now of his mess up. Bobby Reynolds Wiping tears from her eyes, and finally comfortable with her air intake, Bobby waved him off, "No harm done! I don't think anyone has seemed remotely interested since before I started dating my now-husband." She laughed again at the memory, "He was always a bit over-protective and threatened any man who dared look my direction wrongly.... I almost feel sorry for anyone who tries to date our daughters!"
The thought of her Trevor drilling potential-dates for Mel and Patty set Bobby into another bought of laughter. Getting up from her stool, she stumbled and clung to it. "Oh my, I think I better go back and lay down!" Her words were still a bit jumbled, but she walked off anyway, trying her hardest to stay on her feet.
A few yards away, the woman turned and waved, "I'll see you around, Pyroth!" When she turned again, she fell to her knees but was soon up and again and on her way. Pyroth Ignatius Pyroth could only watch, amused as she teetered off down the beach. "See you later Bobby!" he called after her "Don't fall in the sea now!"
And then he cracked back up into laughter, this really was being a good day for him.
After a while, he too made his way back to his duplex, meeting with about as much success as Bobby, nevertheless, he didn't give a damn about his immenent hangover, his sides hurt with laughing and that negated it all.
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Posted: Thu Mar 16, 2006 3:22 am
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Posted: Thu Mar 16, 2006 10:28 am
It was early morning and Pyroth sat on the step outside his door, a cup of coffee, retreived from the cafeteria, held idly in one hand. Yesterday had been very much dedicated to sleeping off his hangover from the day before, with the result that today he actually felt pretty good.
Still, old cravings were beginning to niggle at his mind, the drinking and smoking had only reawakened old longings, bringing them to the fore when previously he had managed to suppress them. As it was, he'd do anything for some pot to chill out with, watch the sun rise, not have to think at all.
He glanced over, through the open door at the intercom, it's green light blinking at him from the dull room and raised a brow, maybe it was too early in the morning to get someone at the other end, maybe there would be an answering machine he could record to, either way, he needed some supplies and he wanted to see if he could get them.
Heading over, he picked up the intercom and dialed the labs, not expecting much, last time he tried, it had been engaged.
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Posted: Fri Mar 17, 2006 5:28 am
Pyroth was more than surprised, when, after a few moments of ringing, a voice picked up at the other end of the intercom "What can I do for you?" the voice was unfamiliar to Pyroth but umistakeably male, most likely one of the labtechs that worked up at the main building. Still, this was progress.
"I'd like to order some items, essentials so to speak." he narrowed his eyes, pot was proving to be more of an essential the more he thought about it. The man was civil though and replied.
"I can certainly make note and pass your request along to my superiors." Pyroth nodded "Good."
Then he consulted the mental list he had been making that morning, rhyming each item off to the man at the other end of the line.
"Well, I need clothing first and foremost, preferably black or dark red, baggy but not too big round the waist." under his fur he was still very skinny indeed "Underwear too. Secondly I need toiletries, toothpaste, toothbrushes, asprin, towels, soap and quite a lot of shampoo, I think your superiors would understand that no I don't just have to shampoo my head anymore." He couldn't help but roll his eyes at his next request. "Oh, and can I get a brush?"
"What kind of brush, sir?"
"A hairbrush." he glowered at the phone "Preferably one suitable for long haired canines "
You bastards
he frowned again and finally got to the crux of his argument "But most of all what I need is pot, marijuana, whatever the hell you guys call it, and as much as possible, preferably with a lighter, rolling papers, that sort of thing, get me that and I'll do whatever the hell you sickos want me to."
He shrugged "Sorry if I'm being a bit demanding but I've not asked much in my stay here so far."
The man made a non-commital noise at the other end and added "Is that all?"
Pyroth considered for a second and added "Yes."
"I'll pass your request along directly."
"Thanks."
And the line went dead.
Pyroth merely shrugged, who knew if they would get him what he wanted?
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Posted: Sat Mar 18, 2006 3:51 pm
Zach, Aubrey and the beach
Pages 138 - 140
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Posted: Wed Mar 22, 2006 10:42 am
Delivered to Pyroth's door is a large brown package with the following items.
Attached is a note:
Quote: In the future, most toiletries can be procured from Delia at the Town Hall. Medicine, upon necessity, can also be gotten in doses from Delia.
About a half dozen sets of shirts and pants in red and black. Most are elastic-waisted or have built in belts.
Both Boxers and briefs.
A full supply of toiletries, minus the medicine. There is extra shampoo. They also inculded two bottles of doggie shampoo - oatmeal-sceted. You're not sure if this is a joke or not.
two brushes - one plastic shower comb, and one long-toothed brush.
And finally, two large freezerbags of a familiar plant...
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Island of Moreau Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 9:47 am
Angelina's Ill?
The Village, pages -
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 9:47 am
Billy and Bobby
The Jungle pg 67-
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Posted: Thu Mar 23, 2006 9:48 am
The package arrives! Celebration!
When Pyroth got back to his duplex later that day, he was only too pleased to note the package and note by his door. Apparently the labtech, who Pyroth had noted down as less than trustworthy, had stayed true to his word. He picked it up with a sort of reverential glee, he headed inside. Sitting down on his half-made bed he proceeded to investigate the contents of the brown paper wrapping, taking each item out in order. The first thing that he noticed was the clothing, clean, in the right colours and very very appealing to someone who had been wearing the same pair of denims for ages. He picked out a dark red shirt and pair of black trousers and, placing them, and a pair of boxers aside, intended to get dressed afterwards.
This plan was pushed back further when he spotted the brushes and shampoos he had requested. A shower first sounded very nice indeed. He shook his head slightly at the dog shampoo, not sure wether to take it seriously or not - of course, in the back of his head he made note to see if it actually worked better than human shampoo. Pyroth had never been so glad to see the regular bathroom faire, this was a first.
However, the item he had been wanting most of all turned out to be there too, nestled contentedly at the bottom of the package. He first checked behind him to make sure the door was shut before allowing himself to let out a very loud, and very triumphant whoohoo (which, coincidentally sounded rather coyote-like in it's pronunciation)
Shower, clothes then smoke till he dropped.
It was going to be a very sweet night indeed, he thought to himself, as with a casual toss, he threw his denims and such aside and made his way into the shower.
------------
Later that night he came out and sat on the step of his duplex, grinning broadly, suddenly very much at ease with the whole island, in his element, invincible.
They could bring it on, he'd take whatever they threw at him.
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