|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:03 pm
"Thank you so much," Emelyn said again, not moving to take the bag or even move from the bed. She knew that Lucas would only tell her to lie back again. Instead, she kept her eyes trained on the moving man in the darkness. "...I've been through the transformations too, you know. ...I know how it aches afterwards." Her words were not patronizing, but, rather, followed a path of soft explanation that said she knew that he had left something out of his answer. "How do you feel?"
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:10 pm
He decided to just be honest with her. "Weird. A little sore still. Mostly around my head. It actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." He just wish he hadn't been out in the storm when it happened. He was sure he would have several bruises from his bumps and falls. "I don't really know what I look like." He stroked the hair that had grown from the back of his hand.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:18 pm
Emelyn nodded, her cheek rubbing against the sheet as she did. It was then that she realized she'd cast the pillow off the bed sometime during the night- looking over the edge, she saw it peering out from underneath the bed- not too far away from where Reuben still slept- oblivious to what was going on in the waking world. She was comfortable, though- and didn't care to reach down and retrieve the soft accoutrement. In a way- it was unecessary. Superfluous.
She didn't say what was on her mind- that the ache would go away, but that the next change would likely be more dire. There were some things that didn't need to be said- especially when the last transformation still lingered. Besides- it was something else that Lucas said that danced in her mind- reenacting the black ballet of emotion that was so often Emelyn's devilish boon. It was Lucas words- almost casual, anecdotal... that he didn't know what he looked like.
"...Neither... do I." She said. Honesty fitted with a tight, constricting clothing of sadness were her words as they pierced the darkness. Outside, the storm still raged- and rain hit the window in a muffled cavalcade of nature. It had been so many months- over half a year- and in that time, Emelyn had changed twice. And in the wild... there are no mirrors.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:27 pm
She didn't know?
He was silent for a moment. "Do you... do you want to see yourself?" Would it be a shock for her? He wondered just how much had she changed since the last time she looked in a mirror.
Part of him was a little worried to see his own reflection, but the other half was curious. He wanted to see with his eyes what so far only his fingers had been able to feel.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:29 pm
She shook her head. Not an easy thing with her face still pressed into the bed.
"In the morning. ...I'll look- when I can walk around normally again." The decision came as if unbidden- the words seemed to precede the actual thought process.
"...You should get some sleep. It's still late."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:35 pm
He sat the trash bag of Em's items down on the chair beside the bed. "Yeah, you are right. But I don't think you should be walking around just yet."
He looked in the direction of the bathroom. Moving toward his closet, he removed a dry pair of pants and a shirt, then entered the bathroom. His hand raised for the switch, but stopped short of it. Changing his clothes in the dark, he stepped back out with looking at at the mirror. For now he would sleep. Tomorrow he would look.
Stepping back out, he slipped onto the couch, drew the blanket over himself to help him warm up and got comfortable. "Goodnight, Em."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Sep 19, 2006 9:37 pm
"...Goodnight. Thank you." The last two words were whisper-soft. So much so that Emelyn wondered as she closed her eyes if they had been completely inaudible. She opened her eyes again, then- one last time, to look at the bag that Lucas had dropped into the chair... then let herself drift off again- a part of her content- and the other, twisted up from more than just the ache in her gut.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 06, 2006 11:26 pm
Emelyn's post: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?page=17&t=1200728#82175425He had risen early that morning despite the eventful evening before which had left him still feeling rather sore in certain areas. His back ached where he had fallen on it, his knee already had the beginnings of a bruise, and the areas of his body that had undergone a change due to whatever the labs had injected him with were still a little tender. Why he got up so early was simple: He had to let Reuben out. He'd rather wake up early than clean another mess, which would only end in the room smelling like cleaning fluids and dog BM for hours. Emelyn was still asleep when he left and Lucas had no desire to wake her. She still needed her sleep, regardless of what she thought. There was still more recovering to be done. Leading the dog out, he wandered around the Village for over an hour and finished with a trip to the Cafeteria for more breakfast. Collecting more fruits and nuts for Em and picking up pieces of chicken for Reuben, Lucas found himself unconsciously popping pieces of the meat into his mouth. He was starving since his change and without realizing it, he had been going for the meat. Blinking, he pulled back his hand which held a piece. After a moment of silence, he went ahead and ate it, for the first time noticing the odd experience of chewing with two fangs. It would be something he would have to become accustomed, too. It also brought up the question that had been plaguing him since his arrival. What was he turning into? The urge to eat meat was the first inclination he had that whatever it might be was carnivorous. The fur helped narrow down the possibilities further. When he left he had not looked into his mirror, it didn't even occur to him to do so. Even now he had the opportunity to find a reflective surface in the cafeteria, but he would not. Staring down at the back of his hand, brushing a finger over the hair, he wondered what animal had this color fur. Snapping his mind back to where he was and what he was suppose to be doing, he finished gathering his food and hurried back outside to find Reuben right where he left him. Of course, the makeshift leash he had used to tie the dog up with helped with that. He worried about bringing him into the cafeteria, but knew he couldn't leave the dog loose in the Village. Apologizing, he untied Reuben, who took off running, very happy to be free of the leash. Calling after him, Lucas tried to keep the dog closeby and started back for his duplex. What Lucas opened to find waiting for him was not what he would ever have expected. His eyes darted from the shattered, bloodied mirror to the empty bed and his body tensed. "Emelyn?!" His mind was a flurry of questions and worries. After a moment of panic, he started to calm and assess the situation. Making sure Reuben stayed away from the broken glass that had fallen to the floor, he searched the rest of the duplex, calling out for the hedgehog woman. When he had first entered, spotting the broken glass, his first worry had been that someone had entered his duplex, a fight ensued and then Em ran... or had been taken. But that first scenario was quickly dismissed. Other than a few tears in his sheets, which had likely been created by Em's spines, only the mirror was damaged. And from what he could tell, it had been struck, the attackers arms had become bloody. "Em..." Slowly it dawned on him. Had she looked at her reflection? Was that what this was? Leaving everything where it was and sticking Reuben in the bathroom to prevent the dog from treading over the fallen glass, Lucas dashed out the door to search for Emelyn. The first place he looked was her cave. When he did not find her there, he searched the jungle for several hours. After trying her cave one more time, he tried the village. He had no clue where she could be and did not know where else he could look. With each hour he did not find her his worries increased. She was still suffering from her injuries and now she was bleeding because of the mirror. He also worried about her current state of mind. If she really had attacked the mirror because of her reflection, he could only imagine what she was thinking. After several hours of searching, with the sun going down, Lucas returned to his duplex to let Reuben out. Releasing the dog to take care of business outside, Lucas paced the inside of his duplex, his door open so he could keep an eye on Reuben. She had left her precious dog and possessions behind... Would she come back? Did she have the strength to come back? What was her condition? Was she all right? Bringing Reuben in and feeding him the now cold chicken, Lucas set to work pick up the pieces of broken glass. Meticulously searching the carpet for even the tiniest fragment, he placed everything into his trashcan. There were blood stains spotting the carpet, but at the moment he could not bring himself to clean them. He returned to pacing the floor, trying to avoid glancing at the blood, but his eyes would always drift back towards it. It was a long night spent tossing and turning on the couch. Even though Emelyn no longer took up his bed, he did not even consider sleeping in it. Even if he had, he would not. As soon as the sun rose he set out with Reuben to search again. And again he came up with nothing. He tried to get in touch with Ambrose, but the man was not at home. Lucas returned to his duplex that evening with nothing. It was then he began to consider contacting the labs. His distrust of the labs along with his understanding of Em's dislike of them and refusal to receive help of any kind from Moreau kept him from calling. But as more time pass he realized that he had to. He felt responsible for Emelyn. It was then she likely needed someone there for her more than ever and he could not find her on his own. The only option left to him was the labs. Turning to the pad, he punched the button for the labs and waited. On the other end an unfamiliar voice asked him what he needed. Lucas came right out and asked: "Where is Emelyn?" When the tech told him that Emelyn had been brought into the labs, the young man closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. He couldn't say that he was happy about where she was, but at least he knew where now and that gave him some relief. "Is she all right?" He gave a vague reply that worried Lucas. He repeated the question to the tech, his voice making it clear that his earlier answer was not sufficient. The tech added a bit more, explaining that she had a few self-inflicted wounds, but nothing serious. "Can I see her? Can I talk to her?" The answer to both was a no. Lucas was ready to snap at the tech, but held his tongue. More than likely the person he spoke with was a subordinate and couldn't allow it. Yelling at him would be a waste of time. He tried to get more information, but the tech was not forthcoming, though he did assure that she would be taken care of and would eventually be released when she was ready. When he realized he would get nothing else Lucas hung up. Without realizing it, he sunk onto his bed. He felt relief that Em was not lying outside somewhere, bleeding, weak and alone, but she was still in the labs in an unknown condition and still alone. Resting his elbows on his knees, he cradled his face in his hands. He felt horrible for leaving her alone. He had been the one to suggest that the two of them finally see their reflections. She had said that it had been months since she last looked at herself. Her reflection must have horrified her and caused her to lash out, then run. Lucas blamed himself. He had put the idea into her head and then wasn't there when it happened. She was his friend. Her fevered words asking not to be left alone ran through his mind and he groaned. His thoughts were interrupted by a wet nose brushing against his arm. Smiling sadly at Reuben, he pat the dog on the head. "She'll come back for you soon." Reuben laid down next to him on the bed and Lucas stroked the dog's fur while he stared blankly at across the room. "She'll be back soon."
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Oct 09, 2006 8:33 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 12, 2006 10:06 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 13, 2006 9:44 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 14, 2006 2:11 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Sabin Duvert Vice Captain
|
Posted: Wed Nov 01, 2006 9:56 pm
Itching... itching... it's like a swarm of fleas have infested your bed while you slept. Nightmares yield to an infernal itching with no discernable source when you wake the next morning. Every single hair follicle on your body seems to be livid and angry, set to get revenge for some unfathomable crime. As the day progresses, patches of the same red fur begin to grow - slowly, and in spurts. When you think it's over, it just seems to spread further to another part of your body. This continues for hours until there isn't a single square inch o your body not covered in the russet (or white) thick fur. Then... it abates. For a while! But all the while, there's this building ache in your face, and in that tiny tail nub. Then, when it seems the pressure can get no worse - when you've got the worst migraine you could possibly imagine, your face begins to grind forward while a brush of a tail extends from your spine.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Nov 08, 2006 8:03 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 09, 2006 2:52 pm
50% Transformation Lucas awoke from his dream with a start and groaned. Sitting up in his bed, he lifted one hand to push away Reuben, who had sometime during the night flopped down onto of his legs, while the other went to his chest. It itched. No. Not just it. Everywhere itched. Throwing his sheets to the side, accidentally tossing them over Reuben, Lucas rolled off the bed, as if something in the sheets had caused his sudden discomfort. But even after he stepped away, the itching did not stop. It was driving him nuts. "Please don't tell me you got fleas, Reuben." Was this what he got for letting the dog run around free and sleep on his bed? Reuben poked his head out from under the covers and watched Lucas curiously, then hurried to the door. "Nature calls, huh?" Scratching at the itches across his body, the young man let the dog out and waited, in somewhat irritable silence, for the canine to hurry up and do his business. Glancing at the clock, Lucas realized he had slept pretty late into the morning. It was Halloween. The party was tonight, wasn't it? After his talk with Bia over a week earlier he had decided to give the Requisition office a try. So not only did he order a costume, but he requested a few magazines and some foods that weren't available in the cafeteria that he could keep in his mini-fridge. The costume he chose was Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King. For a while he considered going as Luke Skywalker, or another sci-fi character, but they had been costumes he'd worn in the past. Jack Skellington would be a fun change. When everything was delivered, Lucas noticed the costume came with face makeup, but he wouldn't be using it. His skin and facepaint never really got along. Now the costume was hanging in his closet, ready for that evening. If only the damned itching would stop. It would be just his luck if he had picked up fleas from Reuben. Once the dog returned, Lucas returned to his room to get in a shower. Even as he cleaned himself, the water running over his body, the itching did not go away. In fact, it seemed to get worse. The itching became stronger around his chest and a tingling sensation rippled from his neck down to his sternum. His fingers flew this his chest to scratch away at the discomfort, only to be met with something that had not been there before. Rinsing off the soap, shutting off the water and nearly stumbling out of the shower, he leapt in front of the sink. Looking into the mirror, Lucas ran fingers over the damp fur that had freshly sprouted from his chest. He stood in stunned silence, realization slowly dawning on him. Did this mean he was changing? Opening his mouth, he checked his teeth and found everything normal. Or at least what had become "normal" for him since his last change a month ago. His ears were no different. He searched his entire body and found only a few new patches of fur here or there. That came as somewhat of a relief to him. Maybe that would be all? The itchiness had yet to pass. Was there just more fur? Fur he could handle. After he toweled himself off and dressed, he tried to get other things accomplished in his duplex, but the itching was near-impossible to ignore. He could not concentrate on anything but the irritation over every inch of his skin. As he walked Reuben the hair continued to grow. He then cleaned in his room, all the while new spots of fur sprang up. It was nearing evening and Lucas found himself in the corner of his room, attempting to read a book, but all he could think about was the fur that seemed to have completely enveloped him now. He was trying anything to not think about it. The feeling was maddening, though. Almost a combination of suffocation and horror at the alien that seemed to be taking over the outside of his body. He had to resist the urge to start ripping away at the fur. Since the change started, Lucas had begun to notice that Reuben was also acting oddly. He was worried that the labs might have even done something to the dog, but over the course of the day he realized that Reuben's unusual behavior was because of him. At first the dog just seemed agitated and kept walking around him, occasionally sniffing the air. Then he started distancing himself from Lucas. Now the dog eyed him from across the room. Sometimes he would approach Lucas, but just walk back and forth in front of him, more than an arm's reach away. It was almost as if Reuben had no idea what to make of him anymore or didn't recognize him. What did this look like to the dog? How much had changed? Lucas worried if there was more happening then just the changes along the skin. What if something deeper was happening? After a time the tingling and itching ceased. Was it over? He looked down at his body, noting that there didn't seem to be a single spot on him with skin still visible. Taking in a deep breath, he let it out slow. ...hair could be shaved... He spent the next hour away from the bathroom and avoiding anything reflective. It was nearing evening and he knew that the Halloween party was going to start soon. Did he really want to go? He still couldn't get up the nerve to look himself in the mirror. At the moment, the thought of going out did not appeal to him. He didn't want to be out in a crowd. Plus he had a growing headache that no amount of aspirin seemed to be able to relieve. Lucas didn't think too deeply about the headache or what it was warning him off. He believed that the change was over. To him it was just a headache. However, when the pain at the base of his spine manifested, he could not deny what was happening. ... still happening. "No..." He was getting dizzy and dropped to his knees. The hurt in both areas mounted and Lucas moaned. It was hard to think through the pain and it felt to him like it lasted for hours. Holding his head, he prayed for it all to go away. Finally the pain reached it's peak, and Lucas felt the worst pain he had ever felt in his life as the bones of his face pushed forward. When the change started he lifted hands to his face and knocked away his glasses. He left his hands there against his mouth, looking almost as if he thought he could stop the muzzle from growing out. As his face continued to alter, while his ears became longer and just as less human, Lucas let a sound pass his lips, which came out more as a dog's howl than a human's cry. He clamped his mouth shut. No... At the same time his face altered, his spine lengthened. However, with his jeans buckled, the tail had nowhere to go. As it became longer and longer, it became bunched and Lucas let out a whimper. Fumbling with his belt buckle and pants, he loosened it enough for the tail to escape, each movement it made causing the brown-haired youth even more discomfort. When the grinding ceased and tail had grown as far as it was going to, Lucas' body dropped onto his side and he held his face. Throughout the final part of Lucas' change, Reuben was running circles around the room, startled and even more confused. When the change was over, the dog watched Lucas shudder and moan on the floor for a time before stepping over, then sniffed him right in the backside. Startled, Lucas threw hands behind him, his tail tucking between his legs and jumped away from the dog, pressing his back against the wall. He stared back at Reuben in silence, eyes wide. The dog didn't follow and just sat down opposite from him, tail twitching. "I..." he winced from the soreness around his new mouth and he boggled at the alienness of using it. It wasn't his mouth... Peeling his eyes away from Reuben's tail he looked down at his own. Move. The tail wagged, which also caused him some pain. He couldn't believe it. Shaking his head, he stood, his legs wobbling a bit, but he stayed upright. Without thinking, he hurried to the bathroom. Holding his breath, Lucas let his hand hover beneath the switch for only a second before flicking the lights on. Taking another step toward the mirror, he stared in horror at the reflection. Hands reached toward his face to each side and fingers ran through the hair over his neck, his cheek, his forehead, and then through his brown hair, which had also grown several inches. The tips now reached down past his shoulders. But nothing dismayed him more than the small, fur-covered snout. Fingers traced along his new jawline and his nose. Was this really him? Only hours ago he had looked into his mirror and had the familiar human face staring back at him. Now he couldn't recognize anything in the mirror except the color of his hair and his eyes. He took a step back, eyes still glued to his reflection. "Dog... I...I'm not a dog..." When his ears drooped, he saw the unconscious action and it drove him nuts. He resisted the urge to grab the offensive things and pull until they were gone. But he controlled those feelings. Turning away from the bathroom, he spotted his glasses and stooped to pick them up. Holding them up to his face, he tested them on his small muzzle, but of course they did not stay. Anger flared up in him again and his body prepared to throw the glasses hard against the wall, but he did not go through with it. Instead he lowered his arms, his posture became that of defeat. With glasses still clutched in his furred hand he curled up on his bed. Exhausted, still very sore, and unable to cope with the change, he escaped back into his dreams and hoped for better ones. ...Happy Halloween... ...right...
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|