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Sweet Jeebus, he's tall!
(Stolen from Josh's Journal <3 )

Stewart had been feeling rather cooped up in his duplex today. So he had wondered over to the Cafeteria. After grabbing a plate of greens, he sat down at the nearest empty table and started munching away at a peice of lettuce.


Tommy pushes open the doors to the chow hall a little bit later. The cadet turned bat boy looks rather horrid in appearance at the moment. The fact that he hasn't slept for a while coupled with his emotional troubles has given the young man a very nosferatu looking image. Of course, having murder on the mind will sometimes do that to a person.

Tommy uses his shoulders to push open the door, his hands still aching from the change the day before.

Eyes searching the rest of the building, the cadet is more than a little surprised to see a Catholic priest with horns sitting there. A sudden flash of memory from back home overwhelms him for a moment. He remembers the many hours in his Jesuit High School where he listened to priests speak of morality.

Stewart stopped mid-much to look up at the newcomer as he entered the room. With a rather haggard appearence and...fangs? Stewart wasn't too sure what to think. Trying to figrure out what animal had fangs and strange hands like that. Stewart tried not to stare, but he was.

Tommy walks slowly into the room, making his way toward the buffett. He had crammed his feet into his boots this morning, determined not to give up that part of his humanity.

As he walks, he notices the priest's stare...and almost breaks down right then and there. Things were different on the other side of the fence, it seemed. Tommy closes his eyes tightly for a moment and just like that he seems fine again.

"Evenin' Father..." Tommy murmers. Though he practiced speaking alone in his room, the cadet was still having problems with the 'f'. But if he spoke slowly enough, he is understandable.

"Oh, a good evening to you too!" Stewart quickly replied, embarassed that he had let himself stare like that. "We haven't met before, have we?"

Tommy begins putting together a tray of food. He adds a couple of bottles of V8 onto it as well. The cadet seems to have some difficulty managing all of this with his large hands at first but, with patience and effort, soon manages.

He begins his slow walk to a table near the preacher. "Don't think so, padre..."
.oO(Don't tell him anything, he's probably just like the rest...spineless. No one but Alec is going to want to help me...goddamnit! Stop! Stop acting like that! Just give the poor b*****d your name!)

After a prief hesitation, Tommy does his best to smile, "name's Tommy...Tommy Christian"

The man look troubled, had he recently changed? Don't bring it up Stewart thought to himself keep off of the subject. "Nice to meet you Tommy," He said as he picked up another piece of lettuce "I'm Father Stewart Young. Have you been here long?" Damn it, he brought it up... well he kinda did.

"'bout three or four weeks now..." Tommy says while putting down his tray and sitting, "long enough for them to get to me, it seems." He doesn't say this last part with any particular emotion. Instead, he begins fumbling with his V8 bottle, trying to open it and having a damn hard time doing so.

"Oh" He said pausing for a moment before adding "D-Do you need help with that?". He didn't have his legs any longer but atleast he still had semi-normal hands. Stewart then added "It's not right what they're doing here, I'm sorry to see that they brought you this hell hole."

Tommy pauses for a moment, his new malicious side instantly hating the priest for his offer of assistance. But still, there's the officer side of him hiding there somewhere. With a sigh and a slight look of defeat, he nods.

"Yeah...if you don't mind, Father." He says the title with every ounce of respect that it symbolizes.

"Well, I'm just sorry to see that no one's done anything about it yet...I mean...with fifty plus captives..." he lets his sentece trail off and just shakes his head.

"No problem" He said opening the bottle and handed it back to the man "I know how hard it gets with the changes. I can't even walk normally anymore. But I wish I could do some thing to stop Moreau, sadly the most I can is pray." He said looking up.

"Yeah...well...hopefully someone will try...thanks," Tommy mutters out as he accepts the drink. He sighs mentally, knowing that he wouldn't even dream of trying to recruit a priest to help him off Moreau.

"Are you a Jesuit? I...I only ask, 'cause I went to a Jesuit High School back home in New Orleans."

"Roman Catholic" He said nodding "But I have many close Jesuit friends. Do you remember much from your education?"

Tommy actually cracks a small smile at this, "Heh, yeah...you can say that. Four years with a course every semester...kinda engrained into my head by now."

Tommy tries to take a sip from his V8 bottle. His hands wrapped around it rediculously. Though, having practiced with a glass of water, he only spills a little of it out of his bottom lip.

Stewart gave a small laugh then said "I've found that Religious classes can either stay with you for the rest of your life, or give one an extra hour of sleep. Before I came here I was working on becoming a Catholic school teacher. I find it all very interesting. But many of my sunday school pupils found otherwise" He said laughing again.

"Yeah, I can imagine...hell, I had this one teacher who could put an entire room to sleep within the first five minutes of teaching," Tommy chuckles a bit, remembering this.

"But I found most of it interesting, myself. I remember my Morality and Sacred Scriptures classes the most I think...Morality, mostly because it told me that the religion isn't all hellfire and damnation, and Sacred Scriptures was just good because it explained the old testament for what it really was."

Tommy continues to take sips of his V8, getting better with every try.

Stewart chuckeled as he listened to Tommy's story "I hate to say this, but I too had teachers like that in Seminary school. He was teaching us about the differences between the Jewish and Christian religions. But I just couldn't pay attention. Also, it's a common misconception among most people is that the Christian religion is all about hell and damnation. There is so much more to Christianity, it's nice to meet someone who also knows about this.

Tommy frowns a bit and looks down at his V8 drink, finding it...distasteful to say the least. He blinks a few times and sets it down.

"Where do..where did you preach? You know...before all this that is..." Tommy asks hesitantly. However, the young man was reveling in this. It was so nice to have a normal conversation for once.

"Did I say something?" Stewart asked after noticing his slight frown. He ment that the profess or was boring, not the subject. Oh well, Stewart though saying "I preached in Boston, I really did like it there..." For the next few moments he stared off into space, lost in a fond memory.

"Hmm? Oh...no...just...I..." Tommy seems to be at a loss for what to say. Horrible thoughts begin to creep into his mind.
"The...V8...I um...I think my tastes are starting to...uh...change." Tommy begins to look very troubled.

Poking at his salad Stewart replied "Do you think it has something to do with your serum? With mine, I can't stand to eat meat anymore. It feels weird to be grossed out by the thought of eating meat."

"My serum's...ah uh..." he closes his eyes momentarily, this is obviously very hard for him to get out, "A...bat...a um...vampire...bat..." He says this last bit very quietly, almost ashamed.

A vampire bat serum? Stewart couldn't help but wonder if he would only be drinking blood in the near future...What a horrible thing to think about "A bat serum is not so bad, it sure beats my goat serum." He said nodding, he still didn't want to believe that he was really turning into a goat.

Tommy looks up at Father Young for a moment before looking back down and sighing. He's not going to bother to explain. Already, he's finding solid food incredibly irritating to his stomach. Already his hands are more cumbersome than the incredible tools that allowed man to advance through the ages. .oO(What I wouldn't give to have a goa...no...stop it. Stop thinking like this. You're going to be over and done with this shithole of an island well before they have a chance to change you again...think about that! Think about the look on the face of your enemy when you slash him open and let the blood flo...GODDAMNIT STOP IT!) Tommy abruptly cuts off this line of thinking and just looks back to Young.

"Yeah well...I suppose we all have our problems then, eh?"

Stewart paused again as he looked at Tommy, what was troubling him? "I'm sorry, I'm only thinking of myself. I didn't even think of how hard it must be for you... Nothing good has come from this island" He finshed shaking his head at the thought of Moreau controlling their lives.

Tommy takes an unwanted sip of his V8 juice, grimaces slightly, and puts it down again. "I'm just wondering why no one has yet to make a serious attempt...that's all. Everyone is just so sure that nothing will work, you know? It's like every person here has just given up on everything. It's our highly developed sense of free will that makes us human, Father...I'm sure you know that. And it's not the fur...not the horns, not the scales or claws that gets us in the end...it's giving up. Every day we sit here and do nothing, we allow the powers that be take another shred of our free will away...until we're nothing but the animals they make us."

"I-I've never thought of it like that anymore...The task of rebelling against Moreau seems so daunting to me, but I do think you really make a good point there. I know that there are many on the island who would help you out, I know I would. I don't what I could do to help." He said nodding again "I don't think I could do much though."

Tommy shakes his head, "I wouldn't want you to have to decide between your morals and what has to be done, Father...just...pray for me...and forgive me for what I must do..." he says all of this slowly and carefully with a pained look upon his face. It sounds almost as if the young man has already resigned himself to death.

Tommy slowly stands, once again leaving his solid food untouched. With a sigh beyond his years, he begins walking for the doors.

Stewart wasn't sure how to respond to Tommy, he wanted to help....but just what exactly was he planning? Stewart wanted to say something helpful, but nothing useful came to his mind. He was only able to watch him walk out of the doors. Finally he called out "It was nice meeting you Tommy!"

Tommy pauses as he shoulder open a door and glances back at Father Young, "Yeah padre...same here." He puts on his most confident grin, "Catch you on the flip side."

And with that, Tommy leaves.

Stewart watched as Tommy walked out of the Cafeteria, he hoped that this wouldn't be the last time he saw that man. But really hoped that he didn't have anything planned that would get him into serious trouble with the doctor. Finshing his greens, he started back for his duplex.

F had discovered that he was actually quite fond of the slight tang that O Positive blood offered to his sensitive new tongue. Of course it had, somehow, tasted distinctly human- but F could do little besides ignore that fact.
And if he was to be honest anyway, it was nothing like the fresh, warm blood from that goat that he had only managed to taste momentarily.

That goat would be cracked.

After his and Gaius's last attempt, F did not particularly fancy taking the animal on alone, and so decided to take Sabin's advice and head over to Duplex 23, where he could apparently find some help with the unruly beast.

F had also discovered that the goat did not like to be lead by the rope around her neck, especially by F. He had resorted to threatening it with a big stick in one hand everytime it snorted at him as if to suggest it was about to try and either ram, bite or spit on him. Attempts at the latter had still, unfortunately, been successful a number of times.

As the pair reached the relevant duplex, F hastily knocked on the door without taking his eye off the animal. Which, likewise, stared placidly at the flea-featured man holding the other end of the rope. F still held the stick unsteadily between them, and started to wipe goat spittle from his arm with it.

"Yeah." he said slowly to the barely visible man-ish creature through the crack in the door. "Er, I'm F." he said with a slight nod before pushing a dread from his face with the end of the stick, and noting the man's fairly impressive beard.

"I was told you might be able to 'elp me wiv vis ruddy animal 'ere." he explained plainly, gesturing pointedly with the stick to the goat, which tapped a hoof against the ground as if bored and unaware.

F opened his mouth, which almost immediately seemed to cause his brain to ooze from his ears a little bit. His gaze fell from the decidedly goat-like man infront of him to the animal by his side, and back again.

"Rrgh?" he asked intelligently, before giving a single, slightly hesitant "Heh." and a toothy grin.
Well now, this fellow could possibly be helpful with the goat, but.. F wondered how the goat-man would feel about him wanting to drink the goat's blood.

F licked briefly at the bristles along his top lip.

The goat itself seemed immediately interested in the strangely similar being infront of it, and bleated questioningly.

"It-" he began, before correcting himself. "She doesn' seem to like me." he concluded painfully slowly. "And, I need her to stay still for a while, and let me.. um.." he trailed off awkwardly, frowning slightly.

"I like blood." he stated with a slight cheery grin, not yet realising how strange that likely sounded.

"Aha. Yes, well.. Flea." he found himself stating almost proudly, pointing towards his three-pronged tongue as he stuck it out from behind his mouth bristles.

"Sabin gave 'er to me to.. erm, feed off, see." he explained, eyeing the animal, which still seemed to be focusing on the giant goat infront of her, and now began to strain against the rope to try and sniff at him.

"He also suggested I ask you for 'elp after it all went to c**k first time I tried getting anyfing out of 'er." he mused, himself fortunate not to have sustained any real injuries from the scuffle. Gaius was likely rather sore after the encounter, however.

"She's pretty arsey." he mumbled, frowning at the goat, glad he no longer had to defend himself against it with a piece of wood.

"Uh." F scratched at the bristles along his arm absently. "I can't say i's not.. heavenly." he announced hungrily, before eyeing the goat-man with a slight laugh.
"But I'm not gonna go all Dracula on you." he wiggled his fingers in Stewart's direction with a grin.

"And, nah. I'll try not to kill 'er." he said with a shrug, reaching into his pocket to reveal a scrap of paper, which he started to unfold.
"I can't actually suck 'er blood properly or anyfing, see. But Sabin gave me vis little fing about vuh.. Masay, and 'ow vey drink goat blood." he began to explain, holding the magazine clipping out towards the goat-man.

"It says very er.. shoot 'em wiv an arrow in vuh neck-" he read out incredulously, running a finger along the relevant paragraph. "-and ven catch vuh blood in a.. gord?" he paused. "You know what vat is?"