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 Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 2:54 pm
RP with Emelyn -- IN PROGRESS
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Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 2:55 pm
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Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2006 3:03 pm
A very important letterSometime early this morning, a woman crept out of her duplex wearing a black t-shirt wrapped around her head, carrying a folded-up sheet of paper. She looked around suspiciously, holding the letter in plain view for any hidden cameras to see. Every few steps she took, she stopped to glance around and look over her shoulder. She finally stopped at Duplex 38 - the one with 'HERE THERE BE DRAGONS' painted on the door of the top duplex - and climbed the stairs. She took one more look around before tucking the paper beneath the door, in plain obvious view, then ran off. Should anyone get hold of the sheet of paper, this is what it has written on it:  A letter written in some kind of alien code. What could it possibly mean?
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2006 1:45 am
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2006 1:51 am
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Mon May 01, 2006 1:55 am
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Posted: Fri May 05, 2006 12:17 am
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Posted: Fri May 05, 2006 12:18 am
The PM
The storm came in swifty- what was only a few threatening thunder clouds on Saturday morning turned into a full-scale tropical storm by that evening. The winds are dangerous and strong, sending foliage debris and water everywhere. Its not impossible to walk in, but its difficult.
However, you don't have any FIRM recollection of anything after around 7 or 8 Saturday evening. You remember a telltale tingle on the back of your neck and then.....
Flashes.
You remember... movement... lying down and vibrating in... a vehicle? A glimpse of Sabin's face... looking shocked and upset.
You remember PAIN, centering the worst around where your arm used to be - like a living fire - like phantom pain that felt SO real.
Everything hurts, everything burns, everything goes red to your eyes as you SCREAMED.
More flashes... trees rushing by, HUNGER, ANGER, PAIN.
***
You wake up Sunday morning, in a cool, dark place.... when you're cognizant enough you realize it's in a cave. And... you smell BLOOD. You're covered in it. It's in your mouth, It's on your claws.... claws you realize... the claws of BOTH hands. And the blood isn't yours. There's mud all over you as well, Your clothes are shredded with bits of branches and leaves stuck in it, and flecks of blood.
Your entire body aches, your head hurts, youre teeth hurt. Your tail hurts, your BACK hurts, as new... sensations are there, new muscles altogether. Your irises have expanded and taken over your eyes, lending you a new, keener eyesight that pierces the dark, dank cave.
You've changed. And how.
***
On Friday, you encountered a few people:
Colche (in passing), Rex, Nita
((You can, if you want, at a later date backtrack and expound on these conversations if you REALLY want to, but for the most part these would be casual spottings of other people. Some you may not even have seen before at any length, but you recognize them in passing if not by name)).
*********
The Change
The first thing that would occur would be the scales. Anywhere they had been previously, and in even more spots: down his stomach, down his legs, down his back and existing arm would itch frantically, his lenghtening claws scratching loose skin to reveal hard red, lusterious scales underneath..
That would just be the begining. His tail would push out further, growing feet in length. Meanwhile, his fins would stretch larger, his teeth elongating and pushing forward in his mouth - almost too big for his jaws. All down his back along his spine a hard ridge would push out of his back. His new arm and wings would grow in at the same time -three new limbs exploding outwards painfully - red and scaly. The arm fully formed, the wings tiny and vestigial. The changes would continue as Zach rampages, his body lenghtening ever so slightly, the horns growing longer, his irises swelling to make his entire eye an inhuman yellow. His ears shrink to being almost nonexistant in front of the long, erectable fins.
The only sense that would be more acute would be his vision by the end of it - seeing better in the dark. He is still very much warmblooded.
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Posted: Sat May 06, 2006 6:01 pm
That Sunday Morning
The cycle continues. Most of Saturday seemed hazy... he couldn't quite remember much There had been... something. Something upleasant had happened. Kaveri? He remembered Kaveri. All that happened afterward came to him slowly, strangely, like a bad dream that had followed him back to reality in a scattering of pieces. Why couldn't he manage to complete a thought? A sharp smell hit him in the nose, and something seemed almost to rumble in the back of his mind, he couldn't quite place a finger on it. Moreover, he didn't have the sense to. He hoped the strange lurking something in his mind would stay quiet and leave him alone. His head throbbed in pain, enough to force his eyes open and discover he wasn't anywhere near his duplex.
Darkness. That's what was all around him. Or rather... it should have been. Somehow. As though he had an invisible candle, the darkness seemed to retreat from his line of vision. Somehow, he was awake. How long had he been lying here? And he felt sort of wet. Unpleasantly so. He could see the ceiling above him like a maw of teeth ready to gut him. The stone floor was cool against his bare, hardened skin. Was it a cave. His hand moved a little to tap at the floor it was splayed against. Yes, rock! It was a cave. He'd have laughed if he didn't think it would have caused his chest to split open. It hurt. Hell, everything hurt. Even places he didn't realize things COULD be hurt (somewhere above his back, for instance), they still did. He also noticed a very weird feeling in his mouth, as well as some on his body and a good bit of it on his hands... and a general wetness all over, even where the remains of twig-strewn clothing still hugged his aching body.
Hands?
There was a moment in which his mind seemed utterly disconnected as it assessed its potentially damaged body. Then it returned to the previous notion. There must have been a mistake. Phantom limb syndrome, maybe? With a groan of pain, he tried to push himself up with what he thought was still his one arm. A limp but heavy weight was against his side, feeling almost plated. At first he thought it was his tail. When he tried to move his tail, he realized it wasn't lying over his left side at all. Something else was, and a mixture of dread and curiosity gripped him. His heart lept to his throat as he wondered what could possibly be going on, and why the odd taste in his mouth was of blood. The contents of his stomach were ready to leave him in an instant. Impossible...
Almost holding his breath, he turned his head a little more to the left. As much as he didn't want to see, he had to. Mostly he saw red scales, lots of red scales, and an entire scaly arm that hadn't been there the last time he'd checked. Tentatively he attempted to use muscles that had not been connected to his body for years. The limp and scaly weight, still afire with a horrible pain, moved slightly, trailing a little bit of the blood on his left hand against the ground. He was reminded horribly of the accident, but in some kind of twisted reverse. He opened his mouth a little, and the tiny fins that had graced his neck felt more like huge fans spreading behind his range of vision. This wasn't right. None of it was right. The one arm he'd been using for support would not hold him up a moment longer and he allowed himself to fall back down in a heap, every muscle twitching in a rhythmic spasm of tears as he tried to hide his face with two mismatched hands. The blood... his teeth were going to chatter, but each time they touched they were filled with pain. He croaked out the first word his brain had managed to hold on to from between blood-covered lips. A name?
"A.. Adeline..."
******
He languished there for a while, oblivious to anything outside his vivid memories. The pain was still there, occasionally piercing his thoughts long enough to force his mind to re-realize the present before lapsing again. However, it was no easy task to grow both an arm, the beginnings of wings, and the frighteningly thick scales that were spreading even farther across his body than they had been before. A hunger of sorts... familar, bestial, and ravenous... and the soundless squabble of a veritable chimera of animals was clawing at his brain and disturbing his shock.
The human side of him grunted, moved away from it, and returned to ignoring it. The horrible beast surged forward again, its starving shrieks reinforcing the terrible headache. It was a battle Zach could not win, once again. There was blood on its tongue, and it wanted more. It had yet to kill...
He made to stand, dragging himself slowly from his crumpled heap to a sitting position. His eyes seemed deadened, drained, with a redness around them. He tore away the last bits of his shirt to get the blood off of him, but a strong red tinge remained on both hands, his mouth, and the various other places where it had mingled with wet mud. Where had all this blood come from? It wasn't even his own! He felt horribly sick just imagining where it all could have come from... Screeching and hissing protested him, fought him, needed sustenance. Its wordless argument was simple: Surely if he didn't eat something, and soon, they would both die!
The human side paused to consider, skeptical of the exaggeration in the animals' unspoken wants. He was still weighted heavily by grief and guilt and emotions that those animal instincts had never had the misfortune to ponder on for so long. He had his arm back, but Adeline was still... dead. A growl reminded the human half of the amalgamated creature's mental presence. Inwardly he sighed, retreating to a place where the animal could stop interrupting him from his respects to the memory of a fallen friend, one who had died before his eyes the day he'd lost his left arm, the human one. He was too distracted to remember what Joliette had said about hunger and instincts. The several people he'd terrorized before hadn't so much as crossed his mind. He'd relinquished himself temporarily to the very self he shouldn't have, just to trap himself in a past he couldn't return to. He'd pay, certainly.
The creatures of many creatures, the red dragon, moved, shifted itself up to an awkward standing position. The human faintly pointed out that there was no time in the cavernous space they seemed to be in. The large, lizardlike left arm swung back and forth a little as though somewhat limp. The gaze in his new and yellower eyes showed no signs of the emotional turmoil they had just been in a moment ago. Awkwardly, it tried to stick its tongue out rapidly to sense the air, but only the barest of tastes seemed to register. It could taste the air that entered the cave, however, and turned in the direction that the wind had come from. First, it would have to find its way out of this dark and lonely cavern. Then it would wash down the wonderful blood in its mouth with some raw meat.
The human side watched uneasily but did nothing. As far as he was concerned, he'd already committed an atrocity to get as blood-covered as he was. There was no going back.
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Posted: Mon May 08, 2006 12:48 am
Fuzzy Wuzzy
Fuzzy Wuzzy was going to kill me!
- METAPLOT RP with Amaya and Chubbs -
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Posted: Mon May 08, 2006 12:51 am
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Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 9:36 pm
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Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 9:37 pm
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Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 9:39 pm
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Posted: Mon May 15, 2006 11:13 pm
The Reflection
What you see is what you've got. Darkness had fallen outside. The stars that merrily scattered themselves across the sky paid little attention to the inconspicuous island lodged in the terrible Bermuda Triangle. Only the sounds of nocturnal jungle creatures and that underlying hum of electricity pumping though the two sources of civilization on the emerald paradise broke its deathly silence to the heavenly light show.
In frustration, Zach snapped his journal shut with his right hand. The pen he'd been scribbling away with was switched to being held in the grip of his front teeth as he slid the book onto his nightstand. Old habits died hard. He'd grown so accustomed to life without the aid of two arms that it seemed impossible to really use the left for anything. Solutions had been found. It hardly seemed real. The new arm was accompanied by the usual pains, aches, and new sensations reminescant of when he'd grown his tail. Using it was like using a latex glove. The sensation, the presence, all of it didn't seem right. Adeline's haunting memories would not leave him alone so easily. She was dead, and that missing arm was the one way he found appropriate enough to atone for his idiotic mistake. Without a burden of sacrifice, things appeared different. Illusory, perhaps, but even the most menial tasks were no longer as daunting. Writing one-handed was by force of habit, but he could easily make room for this second arm.
That was, assuming this all wasn't some epic two-month nightmare. Perhaps he was in a coma in a hospital. He wouldn't have a clue otherwise. Convenient excuses for his 'temporary' island visit were nice those first three weeks. The human weeks. The ones where he wasn't scaly or constantly in some kind of inconvenient pain in a variety of locations that simply didn't exist as part of one's anatomy. But normality had ceased to function on the island, much like Valentine's cell phone. They were luxuries that Moreau's experiments were refused.
He spat the pen out into his waiting right hand to casually slap down next to the black-bound book. It was getting awfully late. As his thoughts shifted from imprisonment to sleeping he became struck with a metallic taste in his mouth. Blood. There wasn't any, but just the memory of the horrible stuff all over him and even in his mouth was enough to make him want to puke. Looking a little greenish in the face while clawing at the edges of his mouth, he stumbled into the bathroom to collect his toothbrush and give his mouth a good scrubbing. He picked up the battered green traveling toothbrush, rinsed it, coated the bristles in some toothpaste and began to vigorously brush. It was ten seconds later while lounging in the general darkness that he realized he could see his yellow eyes reflected back at him from a foamy-mouthed face that looked even less familiar than the last time he'd dared to examine it.
TBC
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