Welcome to Gaia! ::

Dee returns the kiss, only slightly-less clumsily. She mumbles something, eyelids heavy and nearly closed. As she reaches to touch his cheek her exhausted body finally gives in and her arm falls limp onto the bed. Her eyes aren't completely closed--Newt may still be able to see a sliver of yellow--and her mouth is slightly open, but she's very much asleep.

******Part Two******

Hours later, after she came to, Dee was in no better shape. A fresh
wave of pain wrestled her from her fitful slumber and, despite the
several bottles of water she had consumed prior to her nap, she still
felt as if in the throes of an awful hangover. Now the feverish
flu-like symptoms had gotten worse. She groaned, clawed her way out
of bed, and staggered to the bathroom.

After relieving herself—to her dismay, she was hurting down *there* as
well—Dee stood in front of the mirror. Her eyes were closed, as if
she feared what she might see. And yet, her rational mind refused to
relinquish control. Yeah, quit fussing. You drank too much the
past few days and spent too much time out in the sun. Now that you're
rested and restored, you'll be fine.

At least,she hopes, I *look* a little more human, even if I
don't feel it.

But when she opened her eyes, 'human' wasn't exactly the first thing
that came to mind.

"No…"

The lighting in the bathroom seemed hellishly intense, far more brutal
than she had remembered. They made the new details of her body stand
out all the more. Dark stripes had appeared all over her body,
wrapping around her shoulders, arms, legs, and disappearing under her
clothing. Her lips still shone red, only now they were even more
intense in color and were joined by tinges of yellow. Bright yellow
stripes in the shape of a starburst ringed each of her eyes.

Her eyes…

It was what had happened to her eyes that had horrified her most.

Her irises were gone. The yellow that had been cast across them this
morning now pervaded the rest of her eyes, spreading until there was
no distinction between the structures. Her pupils were compressed,
flattening down into animalistic horizontal rectangles. Her
pain-addled brain, reeling and trying desperately to catalog the
change, rattled off mental lists of possible source species.
Ungulate? Reptile? Invertebrate? She didn't even know where to
begin.

Dee began to shake. She tore her eyes from the mirror and had to
physically push herself away from the sink. With a strangled sound,
she shuts off the bathroom light and stumbles back into the main room.
"This ishn't happening," she slurred, her lips feeling heavy. "This
ishn't happening." As if on cue, ripples of pain raced down her arms
and legs and collected in the tips of each digit. Her fingers and toes
felt as if they were swelling, and in the low light of the room Dee
could see the nails begin to grow. She whined, watching as they
darkened and thickened, compressing into blunt claws.

It didn't end there. Her protests grew louder as the aching in her
mouth became more intense. Her canine teeth were growing and
sharpening into predatory little points, and the sensation of
twisting, changing enamel and dentin was almost too much for Dee to
bear.

Next, the change swept back and upwards. Dee lifted her tender
fingertips to her ears in time to feel the lobes stretch into severe
points. Her eyes were closed and her newly-changed teeth ground
against one another as the woman clenched her jaw. Moments later, her
brain switched into a near full-on panic mode.

Help! I gotta get help!!! SOMEONE HELPMEHELPMEHELPME…

******

She feels the queer waves of changing flesh continue down into her
neck. Dee's voice breaks into a panicked, wavering cry and she makes a
run for the door. A flock of island finches at her feeder scatters as
she bursts outside…

It was a few days after Richard's territorial dispute with Seth and
the event still loomed large in her mind. Her behavior had been...
inhuman. She had been ready to kill him over a tree, of all stupid
things. Regardless of the fact that he was acting like an a*****e, it
wasn't an excuse! It was the first time Richard had noticed that she
not only was she acting animalistic but she was thinking like one.

It was time to get over this. She had been sitting around moping in
the forest too long. It was time to get over this and get back to
work. It was time to act like a human being again.

The first step of this was to get some comfortable clothing and then
work on the newsletter. This was going to require a trip to Dee's,
she still possessed her laptop and some one needed to show her how to
measure Richard's new dimensions. She was almost there when she hears
Dee's calls for help. With a worried yrowl, Richard hurried to Dee's
duplex, she could run with her mutated feet but she hustled as fast as
she could. She had almost reached the door when Dee burst out of it.

The momentum has the wide-eyed Dee nearly falling flat on her face,
but she cartwheels her arms and comes to a halt. Almost immediately,
she cries out again and puts her hands up to her face as the sunlight
burns her retinas. "AUGH, gawd…" she sobs. Her newly-minted black
claws glint in the light, and her multicolored stripes gleam in sharp
contrast to her human skin. She breathes heavily and peers through
her fingers, spotting the feline.

"Rih-Richard!!" she gasps, her voice heavy with panic and
embarrassment. "It…it's h-happening. You gotta help me!"

Startled, took a half step away from Dee and immediately felt her lips
draw back from her teeth. "Deeee." She whispered as her eyes
registered the new inhuman features. She caught the glint of Dee's
strange eyes before they were hidden behind the clawed hands. The
scent of fear is practically flowing off her, beneath it is the scent
of something unnatural. For a moment Richard is paralyzed, caught
between observing the changes and mentally exploring the scent, the
delicious fear with Dee's curious undertones. Dee's plea shook her
out of it.

What the hell am I doing? She scolded herself as she stepped forward
and wrapped an upper arm around Dee's shoulder. "Shhh! Its okay! It
will be alright!" She gently sheparded the woman back inside her
duplex, out of the sunlight.

Tears poured out of Dee's oddly-colored eyes and down her cheeks.
Delirious with pain and confusion, she allows Richard to help her back
inside. "I…I thought I'd be different," she stammers. "I thought I
was just here to study…I-I-aaaAWGH!!" Dee bends forward and falls to
her knees beside the bed, clapping her hands behind her head. Erect
black hairs begin to sprout from her changing neck, poking through her
fingers and around her hands despite her efforts to keep them down.
They sprout all the way down her nape, forming a stiff, thick
continuation of her hair-line. Dee's hands curl into fists as the
neck stretches to accommodate the growing mane.

"Rissird…" she slurs, white canines catching the light of the reading
lamp incubator on her desk.

Richard had no idea what the woman was changing into, those stripes
looked more alien than anything else. She knelt down besides Dee,
prying a hand free of the mane and envelopes the clawed hand with her
own massive handpaw. There was nothing to be done at this point
except wait it out. "I know. It hurts. Hang in there." Her voice
was soft, mothering almost. A little voice screamed in her head, "It
will only get worse!"

And it does. Dee is sobbing, trying to concentrate on Richard's voice
as her body warps beyond her control. The discomfort and aching in
her private parts suddenly increases, and Dee's face twists into a
distorted expression as she feels herself changing down *there* as
well. Something swells…mutates…splits…and Dee can't even begin to
fathom what's happening.

"Noooo…" she keens softly, grabbing at the blanket of her bed, trying
to cover herself despite the fact that she was fully clothed. Her
face is nearly as red as her lips. If she were in her right mind,
Dee might find this ironic.

Being there is the only thing Richard can do, she keeps a death grip
on Dee's hand and draws Dee closer to her. "Just hang on Dee, it will
be over soon." She had no idea how far it would go or how long it
would last but it would end. Dee just had to hang on.

Then Richard caught a scent of something, something vaguely familiar.
Then when Dee attempts to cover herself, it hits home. "Oh god! Dee,
what the hell have they done?!" Her voice takes on a high frightened
tone. They wouldn't have? It could go the other way? But why? Dee
hadn't done anything to them! Richard abandons her dignity and wraps
her arms around the mutating woman. "Dee I'm so sorry. It going to
be okay." It was a lie, but sometimes the truth was to painful.

"I-I don' know…" Dee blubbers. "Ish all wrong.." She's slurring her
words badly. Mirroring some of the changes down below, her lips begin
to tingle and swell. Tiny facial muscles twist and grow, and Dee
wriggles an arm free of Richard's embrace to reach up and touch the
sensitive tissue. As she does, the lips seem to perforate and then
split into distinct portions. Horrified, she clamps her hand over her
mouth, feeling the new nubs of flesh move and wiggle against her palm.
The nubs on what used to be her lower lip are more pronounced, and
the motions are almost perverse in their control. As Dee sobs, they
jerk around, mirroring her agitation. The alien movements prove to be
too disturbing, and she pulls her hand away.

"W-What am I, Rissard? Awwgh, it hurs.."

Richard's grip loosened when she saw what was happening to Dee's lips,
she couldn't help but stare. Mentally she scrambled for something
that had segmented lips like that and came up completely empty. Was
she a failed serum like Victor? Or was she one of Sabin "special"
projects like she was? At Dee's question she could only manage a tiny
shake of her head. She had absolutely no idea. It had to be a
mythical, with those stripes and eyes like that. Had to be.

Dee closes her eyes and tries to control her scared, rattling breaths.
Even though it hurts, she clenches her jaw and closes her mouth
tightly. Her expression turns disgusted as the palps on her lips
wiggle and writhe between each other. For a few moments, she manages
to get them under control, until she rubs her multicolored arms. Two
bumps on either shoulder have begun to swell and protrude, and a thin
flap of webbed skin is growing from the outsides of her arms. Though
these recent changes aren't the most severe, they have Dee utterly
baffled.

Then, finally, it seems as the mutations have trickled to a halt. Her
lips quiver and she collapses against Richard, limp and breathing
hard.

It was finally over. Richard lets Dee fall against her, enveloping
her within all four arms. "There, its over. You survived. Your
going to be alright." More lies, she hated herself for telling them,
but she knew truth just wasn't going to be helpful at the moment. Dee
had just started a long and painfully journal that was only going to
get worse. And there was a selfish part of Richard that desperately
wanted to feel needed and human. Supporting Dee through this sated
that for the moment.

For a long moment they sat there on the floor. Richard's leaned down,
sniffed at Dee mane, Richard could see the flecks of skin on the newly
erupted bristles. Her tongue flicked out once, then again.

Dee shudders a bit. The sensation of contact with the new mane is
bizarre and reassuring. She still itches terribly, but feels too weak
to even lift a black-clawed hand to scratch her oddly-marked skin.
After a few more long minutes, her heartbeat and breathing begins to
even out. Dee's eyelids flutter open and she finally returns the hug,
even though it hurts to do so.

"Thank 'ou, Rissard," she whispers through her weird ribbed lips. Her
skin is hot to the touch due in part to her embarrassment. "I don't
know what I'd do if you hadn' come along…" Dee trails off and shudders
again, feeling the lip-nubs respond when she concentrates on them. "I
s'ill don' know what I'm gonna do."

As Dee didn't protest and Richard wasn't quite aware of what she was
doing other than comfort the woman, the grooming of Dee's mane
continued until she stirred. The hug caught Richard mid lick and her
eyes widened when she saw what she was doing. Flushing slightly she
pulled back her head and squeezed Dee back a little.

"Its okay Dee. You were there for me not too long ago. I've seen--"
Well she certainly hadn't seen Dee's change before, " A change
before." She inhales, registering the scent as the new Dee. At Dee's
second question she gave an sigh that was blended with a purr, a very
odd sound. She petted Dee's mane with a small hand once, curious to
what it felt like. The hairs were stiff but they weren't anything
that prevented the motion. "You live. If you're me you sulk in a
tree for awhile first." She gave weak chuckle.

Dee nodded and heaved a great sigh. "Righd aboud now, I'd do thad if I
could." She shifted uncomfortably, trying to find a position that
wasn't painful. Finally, she leans back to look Richard in the eyes.
Exhaustion has twisted her alien features into a truly pitiful
expression. "Budt I'm not looking forward to even getting indo bed.
Everything hurts…" It's clear that she probably won't be conscious
much longer; her lids are heavy over those strange yellow eyes.

Inhuman eyes looked into inhuman eyes for a long moment. The strange
pupil reminded Richard's of Billy, was she some type of squid or
octopus? That wouldn't explain the claws and teeth at all though.
Richard's tail lashed once, indicating uncertainty. Changes were
always emotional things, they'd been through two together now, there
was a definite connection some sort. "Well you'll thank yourself in
the morning if you make it to bed. Better than a tree branch. Come
on now." She slipped her upper arms under Dee's and hoisted her up
onto the bed. Dee was quite light in her muscular upper arms.

Dee nodded and gently bit her lower lip, then jerked a little at the
increased sensitivity of the mobile nubbins. She allows the other
islander to help her onto the bed with nary a peep of protest. "'m
sorry," she slurs, curling into an achy little ball and peering up at
Richard. "'m sorry if I seemed like I was ever patronizing you…what
you were going through. I-I think I'm figuring it out now. Bit by
bit." Her 'p's' and 'b's' are exaggerated as she works the sounds out
through her new teeth and nodules. "Oh, and y-your computer is on the
desk…next to the nest."

Richard looks over at the desk and sees the computer sitting there
before turning back to Dee. She smiled down at Dee and gave her hand
a squeeze. "Its alright. Don't worry about it, I was in either in
too much pain or too drunk to realize it if I was." She smirked a
little at that. "You need anything before I leave?"

Dee's little hand returns the gesture, if in a much weaker fashion.
"If there is, I can'd think of it right now. Maybe a visit once this
calms down? I like our visits…" she yawns, and there is a strange
muffled sound as her jaw 'pops.' "…even *if* we either end up in heaps
or drunk or both."

She chuckles warmly at that. She leans over and brings Dee's hand to
the side of of muzzle, rubbing it with her scent gland, then licks it
once before setting is back down. "Get some rest then and I'll check
up on you later."

"Yes'm," Dee mumbles, grinning very slightly at the much-appreciated
affection. A thought crosses her addled mind, but before she can
offer Richard one of the good bottles of beer or wine from her fridge,
she's out cold. Her lip-nodules twitch a few times, then fall still.

"Sleep well" Richard pats the hand a last time then turns heads out,
collecting her laptop on the way. She feels decidedly odd, with a
silent rumble in her chest as she exits the duplex.

((END RP. Dee is now fully at 25%))

For the past week and a half, Diane Creedwater had been drinking. Heavily.

Her schedule hadn’t changed much, but a lot of her studying and hiking time had been replaced by raids on the beach bar and consumption of her own stash. A small mound of beer, wine, and liquor bottles was forming under her desk and behind her duplex. Her birdfeeders needed to be filled, and her journals were painfully out of date. She had managed to collect a large amount of local seafood for the clam bake, but instead of sorting and cataloguing and planning, she had simply let it sit the café freezer. The only bit of housekeeping that she had kept atop of was tending the nest. Dee faithfully turned the eggs and adjusted the lamp twice a day.

On the evening of April 1rst, she was sprawled on out her bed; having just clawed up out of what she assumed was another booze-spurred blackout. A foul, acidic scum coated the back of her throat and she groaned, clawing at her soiled sheets. Each day for the past week she had drank herself to the point of vomiting. Dee would then chug water until she felt somewhat revived and the binge would begin anew.

They were right… they were right… I can’t do it. I won’t be able to do it now… *I’m* the experiment, now.

The nodules on her lips and…elsewhere… writhed in discomfort. Dee felt her gorge rising and rolled off the bed, rushing to the bathroom with one hand clenched over her mouth. After liberating her sparse dinner, she flushed the toilet and slumped down next to the bathtub. The woman lifted a shaking hand towards the spigot and turned on a gentle stream of cold water. She rinsed out her mouth then filled a stained coffee cup.

Her head pounded as she fished an antacid tablet and some Tylenol out of her pocket. The smell of unwashed clothes and body odor assaulted her nose, but she didn’t give it a second thought. She had been wearing the same clothes for ******** it. Let’s see what they make out of me now. Can’t change DNA if it’s good ‘n pickled. The bathroom tile felt blissfully cool and Dee almost considered dragging in a pillow. She took a sip of water and bared her teeth at her warped reflection in the chrome hardware.

When Newt awoke, it was the muted silence that gave him the first warning signals that something was amiss. There was no sound of the trickle of the little waterfall, no buzz of jungle insects or constant chirp of the finches. No rattling of boar and deer and twig snap of monkeys leaping by. Just the distant hum of air conditioners. He sat up with a gasp, glancing around the dusty empty interior with a startled look. How did he get in here? What had happened? Crouched with his back against the wall he gave himself a pat to make sure he was all in one piece still, but frowned when something caught his enormous round eye. Black marker stood out against his speckled pale belly in an all too familiar pattern. One that had drifted in and out of a few of his nightmares since his transformation had begun.



At the sight of the dotted-lines, the frog-man screamed sharply, leaping for the door. Every instinct was screaming to flee, to find water and duck for cover but once he exploded out the door and down the steps, it wasn't towards the lake his limbs brought him, it was Dee’s duplex. He hurled himself towards the door, knocking frantically as though a mad scientist with a scalpel would leap out at him at any moment.

Dee’s stomach had just about settled when her door began to rattle with panicked knocks. Shaken out of her hung over reverie, she sat up straight against the bathroom wall and clasped a hand over her forehead. “Nnnoooo… nawt now…” she slurred, lips wriggling and jaw clenching down. The fear and intensity behind the knocks cooled her temper, and she pulled herself to her feet. She cleared her throat and shuffled towards the door.

Dee picked her way over the dirty laundry, torn journals, and empty bottles and slumped against the wall near her entrance with a dull thump. The woman could hear more activity outside. “One atta time,” she sighed, scratching at her mane. “Uh…”

She frowned as she pulled her hand away. Her hair was wet. Come to think of it… her clothes were wet, too. Dee frowned and picked at her soaked shirt, aware of a growing ache in her arm. “Wha… the hell?” she looked around in bleary annoyance.

A fresh series of knocks sounded beside her, and her attention was diverted. Dee paused for a moment to gather her wits then took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

There sat Newt, wild-eyed and whimpering, rubbing and clutching at his wide froggy belly as though attempting to rub off the black lines from his thin moist skin. "D-d-duh-krrIIIT!" At the sight of her sogging, changed state, he staggered backward to fall down onto all fours in a terrified crouch. Her... her FACE! Her face was... this couldn't be... the frog screamed PREDATOR RUN! But no! No this was Dee and she loved him even though he was a frog! Right? She did love him didn't she? Or he loved her anyway- of course he loved her, or so he thought he did but... but her... her eyes and lips and... "Wh-what... what... " He panted, fighting the ribbiting noises that squeaked from his throat before he managed to form words, "Wh-what have they d-do-do-done to you??" It was cliché', but he had no idea what else to say in a situation like this. She was drenched- no doubt covered in sweat!

Dee’s aching stomach suddenly felt very cold. She hadn’t seen Newt since before her major changes that fateful day. Her vision blurred for a moment as her head began to swim. “N-newt!! Oh, uh…w-well…” The door swung open, revealing more of the disheveled state of her duplex. “I, uh, that day you c-came last… I sort of…” She was sluggish and hung-over, and her brain refused to cooperate. She clutched at her arms at the same time she clutched for words.

Then came a sudden stab of pain and a yelp. Confused, Dee took a step back. Almost immediately, there was a wet ‘popping’ sound beneath her foot. Dee staggered and caught herself on the door frame, looking down with wide eyes. Her brain was scarcely able to comprehend what she saw.

It was an IV bag.

Dee’s eyes widened as they followed the tube up to its end at an IV needle, which was still taped to her arm. Her breath caught in a guttural half-growl, half-gasp and she looked up at Newt with her own panicked expression. Her mouth had dropped open—oh, those pearly white canines!--and her alien lips writhed in instinctual fear.

He gave another croak, crawling backwards as the panic attack bubbled up in his chest, seizing his lungs. He was hyperventilating, eyes darting from the IV to the sharp teeth to the wriggling lips to the wet dripping, clinging front of her shirt to the odd colored stripes. He was frozen, like a deer in headlights unsure of what he could possibly do or say. He wanted to rush to her, to throw his arms around her and pull her back to her bed to nurse her back to health... or drag her away from the duplexes and the labs and hide her out in the jungle where there was water and it was safe for her and the eggs- he almost forgot that they were pigeon eggs for a moment. Upon reflection he would have felt embarrassed, but at that moment the frog stay still, waiting to see what sort of move the other creature would make.

Dee could hear other voices coming from the village but they all registered as a general din in the background. What’sgoingon…what’sgoingon… what’d they do now!? Newt, what’s he got to be thinking? N-no, I KNOW what he’s thinking. She fell to her knees and grabbed for the IV bag, which was still leaking onto the carpet. Dee whimpered and looked up at him.

“I-I’m not a monster, Newt…it’s just me! It’s STILL me! I-I don’t know what’s going on,” she clasped the bag to her chest, trying to keep the remaining liquid in. Dee grabbed onto a nearby chair with her free hand, then looked over sharply. She pulled the hand away and stared at her grime-coated palm with a confused expression. Her eyes flicked over to the seat of the chair. Aside from her fresh palm-print, it was covered in a fine layer of dust.

Her head shot around back towards Newt and it was then that she spotted his ‘tattoos.’ “Oh god.” A low gurgling growl rattled in her dry throat.

"I... I... I w-woke in ... in m-my... I th-thought... it l-looked liek th-they were... " he babbled weakly, just barely managing to keep his mind up out of the wash of startled froggy terror. "Are... wh-what... wh-what ha... krrIIIT! KrrrKITkrrKIT Wh-what is... are... are y-you...?" He rubbed at the marks around the joint of his arm, the marker stinging his thin amphibious skin and reminded him of more immediate dangers. Were they after him? Where they going to cut him up? "I... I... I have to g-go..." He panted, "I d-don't... I d-don't know wh-what's going on...!

As he spoke, Dee had been getting more and more agitated. He was going to leave? Just like that? “N-no!! NO! Newt, please wait!” Her nubbins flattened against each other until they made a single dull ‘point’ on her lower and upper lips each. “I…I’m turning into something…I th-thought I wouldn’t but…” She grimaced, and her fangs glint in the low ambient light. Her voice took on a more urgent tone. “It’s something predatory, that’s all I can figure out f-for now.”

She suddenly glanced down at the ruined IV bag and felt another surge of confusion and panic. “G-get in here! We can figure something out!” Dee’s voice was husky and raspy from dehydration. “Please! I changed my mind, I don’t want to be left alone right now!” With that, her ears pulled back a bit and she lunged for him with one outstretched hand. She only meant to grab him and take him inside…

As she came after him, the frog gave a terrified croak, leaping away in a sudden movement to land heavily several feet away. "I... I... I... I d-don't want to be d-dissected!" He cried frantically as though that was his excuse, but there was something deeper inside him that reacted to the predator budding inside her.

“You WON’T be!” Persistent and nerve-wracked, Dee whimpered and took a step outside towards him. She gestured with that claw-tipped hand and her lips pulled tighter into strange points. “PLEASE, NEWT,” she gasped. A new wave of nausea crept up her throat. Her eyes watered a bit as she fought her gag reflex. The scenery whirled and Dee fell to her knees again. Crouched like this, dripping wet yet with her stiff mane seemingly ‘bristled’, she certainly looked predatory.

As she pressed the empty IV bag against her stomach and trembled, it seemed as if she was about to pounce.

His buggy eyes were streaming with terrified tears. He wanted to go to her, to hug her tightly and huddle in fear together with her as they tried to make sense of the strange morning, but the bristled mane, the bared fangs and claws was enough to send off heated warning signals through his throbbing post-zapped brain. "KrrIIT!" He cried flinching several times as his muscles spas med ready to leap away once again.

If he wasn’t going to come to her, she was going to go to him.

Dee choked back a strangled sob. She needed him right now. Something deep down in her own genes cried out for the comfort of a friend…a mate. The species gap made little difference. She gathered herself to a somewhat-upright stance and, suddenly hungry for contact, half-shambled, half-pounced for him.

He tried to leap free with another terrified croak, only to be caught in her grip as h e was pounced. He cried out frantically, thrashing and kicking to try to get himself free from the creature that undoubtedly wanted to eat him!

Dee cried out in surprise at his reaction. Her cry turned to a gag as one of his flailing limbs hit her solidly in the gut. She released her ‘death hug’ and crumpled to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Stunned, her vision blurred and a bitter taste tickled the back of her throat.

The terrified prey animal leapt away as fast as he could without another thought, instinct screaming in his round flat yellow ears to RUN RUN RUN! Leap to water! Find water! So it was the direction for the lake for him as he leapt faster than he had ever done before.

Dee barely registered Newt’s flight. She curled into a tight fetal ball as her head swam and her stomach pitched. That sore-all-over feeling had returned with a vengeance. She tried to spit the bitter taste out of her mouth, but only managed to n** one of her lip-nubbins.

With a pained whine, she took out her frustration on the ruined IV and TUGGED it out of her arm. Tears beginning to streak her dusty cheeks, Dee flung it away. She lay in the dirt in front of her duplex for a few more long minutes. When the worst of the aches had subsided, she crawled back inside.

Dee spent the rest of the night at the foot of her bed, using soiled laundry as her pillow.

Dee's Personal Log, April 5th, 2007.

Dear neglected journal: the baby pigeons finally hatched this morning.

I was starting to get worried. I hope the poor little things will have a better time of it on the island than I've been having. Do the labs experiment with people's pets, too? I better not get them too tame, lest I have to release them to save them from the same fate as the rest of us.

Newt'll be happy to hear that they survived. I really should go and tell him.

(insert ink blot, as if she paused here for a moment)

I really should go and tell him a lot of other things, but I can't seem to bring myself to do so. Looks like my long string of hopeless, pain-ridden romances is bound and determined to continue unless I finally get off my...striped...a** and be pro-active.

At least I'm drinking less. My raids on the beach bar continue, but I've so far been successful in avoiding new folks. I look out my window and see others mulling about the neighborhood...all sorts of beasts, in all sorts of stages. Most look fairly normal, if you can call animal-people normal, but I have a sickening feeling that I'm going to end up as anything *but.*

A freak amongst freaks.

(insert some scribbled-out sentences)

I'm not real good at this emo-crap, can you tell?

Of course you can't. You're a bloody book.

It doesn't look like there's anyone outside right now...time to gather stuff to mix into pulp for the babies. I hope I remember how to feed pigeon squabs.

I guess we'll find out.

Once more, Dee wakes up with a feeling of disorientation. There is no IV bag... no dust over her duplex... but there is a subtle feeling that someone has been there... and a new "insect bite" on the back of an arm.

The changes don't begin for hours. In the meantime Dee feels continuously dehydrated.. achy... feverish.

It is a dull, continuous achiness. Then, without any further building... without warning.... it strikes. Quickly and savagely. Her skin hurts for a moment, and then... almost in the blink of an eye, a wave of color spreads over it - a deep purple, permeated by stripes. All of her body.

A bright purple webbing forms between her fingers, stretching thin but durable. Similarly the sails along the outer edges of your arms thicken and become a bit wider.

Her eyebrows fall out, and bony nobbins protrude where they used to be... and on each shoulder. There is bone at the core, but covered by a thick layer of rubbery skin.

And then... the lips get worse... the part that was arguably your most disturbing characteristic before gets more dramatic. The nobbins become more distinct and longer, more flexible... and more colorful. Your upper and lower lips eually deformed into miniature tentacles.

Sometime during the night, it seemed a certain frog had come to visit and then panicked before knocking on the door. Instead, he left his present tied to the porch of Dee's duplex, flickering in the wind.

It consists of straight sticks he had found in the jungle tied together with craft wire stolen from the supply cabinet, and blue, yellow and green feathers from various birds he had collected from the jungle. Some of the feathers are weighted down by sparkling rocks or small seashells, but the mobile catches the wind to send the various ornaments twisting and fluttering soundlessly. The sun reflects off of thin metallic strips that seem to have come from old soda cans he had managed to cut up somehow carefully. To her more sensitive hyena nose, she might sense the faint traces of blood where he had cut himself on the sharp edges in the process. The frog himself is no where to be found- undoubtedly run back to his swamp out of shyness.