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 Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2007 7:57 pm
The guards had come and gone and even Jordan wasn't sure what they were leaving, that is, until it responded to his presence. His chip, thew equivalent to a social security number on the island, had triggered to case to open.
The audio clip had played and he was speechless. The... hell...? Jordan was being given permission to inject himself with his own serums? This... was frightening. The memories of his first change made his skin crawl. His fur frizzed on end. Potentially, he could have taken the needles and discarded them somewhere in the jungle- or even off the cliffs to smash on the rocks below... This wasn't happening. This had to be a bad dream, a nightmare.. Had he already been injected? Was he imagining this? No.. he wasn't fortunate enough to be dreaming. Jordan knew he was awake.
He trembled, paws shaking violently as he tentatively reached forward, yanking his arm back. He was scared. Last time, he hadn't known what was coming and now his own fate was being handed to him on a silver platter- or more accurately an iron box.
"Oh God..." he whispered, the fear bleeding through his terror-stricken expression. He felt hot. Nervous. Sweaty. He knew that if he didn't he'd become ill. He could even die. "Oh God oh God.." he repeated. He could choose not to inject himself, but that would only lead to him nbeing buzzed, rendered unconscious so some random guard to likely inject him; or, he could prevent himself from becoming ill, inject himself, and endure blinding pain once more. What a choice..
His bottom lip trembled as he knew what he had to do. He had to... did he...? Did he have to inject himself? Why was he being given this choice? Couldn't he have just been rendered unconscious and transform at some random point... And frighten another young girl on her first day?
Jordan sighed with resignation... He had control over it this time. He knew it was coming this time. He could avoid people this time. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to succumb to sickness..
He inched towards the case with caution. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to change again.
...
...
...
...
...
He didn't want to die.
Jordan reached for the stage 3 serum first, feeling a sickly knot bunch in his stomach. He felt ill and ran into the bathroom in time forhis stomach empty its contents into the toilet. Vile sickness from this decision had nearly caused him to drop the needle and without another thought Jordan yelled out in pain as he stabbed the needle into his arm, following suit with the loyalty serum moments afterwards.
"Goddammit...!!" he cursed with anger "DON'T EVER MAKE ME DO THAT AGAIN!!"
Jordan didn't want to die.
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Posted: Thu Feb 15, 2007 1:00 pm
Hours later, it begins in Jordan's room. You feel an itch spreading up and down your body at the same time. As the fur that grew over your stomach grows upward and the fur that grew on your face spreads down. Creating a beard that spreads around from your white side burns. The effects of the loyalty serum begins to spread through your changing brain chemistry. You feel your ears legthening even as they thin out and flop over as they themselves are covered in the same fur, even as your senses are enhanced a step foward closer to the full strength of a dogs. You begin to hear voices, enhancing the effects of the loyalty serum, even as the suliminal messages you've been hearing are audiable to you. Of course, in the deluded mid change and mid loyalty serum state, you could believe they are mearly your own inner Moreau. Your nose darkens further and grows wet and dog like. Painfully your body stretches slightly, even as it does you feel something pushing out from the sides of your stomach. You watch, and feel, as two small paws grow out. At the same time, perhaps from the changes, perhaps from the stress, a white streak forms down your hair. In combination with the internal changes in your brain chemistry that make you slightly more canine, you also can almost feel the final stages of this dose of the loyalty serum sink in. The voices you've heard before stop, as the subminals are considered, no longer needed. Atleast for now. Almost in concert with the finish of your changes you hear Moreau's stern voice actually come live through the speaker "Jordan, you will never tell me what I can and can't tell you to do again. Ever, you will always inject your own serums, because it's what I want. I come first, you have to be strong for me. Goodnight Jordan, don't disappoint me again." 
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Posted: Thu Feb 15, 2007 4:16 pm
Jordan could have chosen to defy Doctor Moreau in a rebellious protest, had defiance been his motivation. The serum(s) could have been smashed against the bathroom tile, or a wall for that matter or simple drained from their syringes. The horrified young man had nearly dropped the syringe containing Samoyed genetic material in the ill revulsion following his hesitation. Jordan didn’t want the pain that came with the changes. He didn’t want to alter his genetic structure if it meant enduring white-hot blinding pain, the initial traumatic experience lingering in his mind. It terrified him to the core that he’d been ordered to inoculate himself with the stage 3 serum, as well as the loyalty serum. The knowledge of knowing it was coming- caused by his own actions- made him physically ill. It had been a separate matter to receive the injections while unconscious and oblivious to the coming horror, but to be forced into administering them himself was cruel. Jordan could have chosen to defy the doctor – if it had indeed been as simple a matter as servitude.
Self-serving preservation, of mind and body, had motivated Jordan in the most undignified manner. He’d panicked, hesitated, and had forgotten his place by the deed’s completion. Jordan dreaded the experience of another change- plain and simple. The recording hadn’t been a kind request, but an authoritative, given order leaving little recourse. How could Jordan have been expected to inject his next treatment of recombinant DNA into his own system? There would be no creeping illness, no sudden surprise of metamorphic onset. Like the final hours in a stay of execution, Jordan was resigned to his fate, with the looming knowledge eliminating any doubt that he was achieving the next stage in his penance through physical disfiguration once more. The consequences of not receiving the injections on time were too great to ignore. The probability of sickness, in the form of degenerative cancer, and, in some documented cases, death outweighed what he wanted. Jordan was afraid to deteriorate into a cancer-riddled husk, with the latter option prohibited. He’d rather have subjugated himself to Doctor Moreau’s every whim and becking command on his behalf than die slowly, painfully in a lab. It had been the lesser of two evils.
The wait was killing him. It had been nearly thirteen hours already since he’d administered the accursed genetic material into his bloodstream. Jordan was seated on the edge of the foot of his bed, hunched forward in anticipation, paws clasped in his lap as he kept himself braced for the moment it would begin. This waiting game was hellishly sinister.
Jordan had resolved not to leave the confines of his duplex till the changes had taken their course. Learning from his prior transformation, he’d removed what clothing he could still wear, fearing constriction in his solitude if the changes were to become out of hand and beyond his coping. He’d considered iniviting someone he’d trusted to ensure he didn’t injure himself, but he didn’t want to be seen by another subject during this process. He would be administering his future inoculations as well.. he could avoid traumatizing others for his own peace of mind.
He was so hungry, but he refused to venture to the cafeteria knowing it was coming. Jordan would endure and pull through the transition process, in hopes he was doing the right thing in isolating himself. As he tried to ignore his grumbling stomach, Jordan was reminded of the throbbing redness in his left arm, where he’d stabbed the needles into the tensed-up muscle. They hadn’t been the clean injections that had been administered when he was still human. There were two throbbing red spots reminding him it was only a matter of time.
Jordan was letting his hair down, unbinding his ponytail from the band, as it made him feel a little less uncomfortable in the moment. That moment had been short-lived as Jordan idly scratched his black claws, in irritation, over his itchy left cheek, then his right, but it wouldn’t stop itching and he wouldn’t stop scratching. The epidermal irritations spread from under his chin and over his stomach and even his ears, making him itch and scratch madly as it only intensified and began to sting.
Was it beginning? After half a day’s torment and fear it had finally begun? Yes, it had.
Jordan coughed then choked as he was stricken with a sudden attack of dry mouth, scratching his way to the bathroom as he felt like he was going to vomit again if he kept heaving like that. He fumbled with the faucet as the choking was making him light-headed, getting the water to pour into the sink basin at full blast. His cupped paws couldn’t hold enough water when he kept jerking from the violent coughing fit, spilling the water on the edge of the sink and on the floor. He had no other choice but to lap it up like the dog he was becoming, humiliating him as his thirst was quenched under the spewing faucet. Water poured down the side of his mouth and he could feel droplets of water sticking to his face. His paws wiped it away as he glanced up in shock as the fur on his face was pushing through the skin like tiny needles.
He scratched with his claws as the pinpoints of white fur sprouting on his fur pushed further outward and grew, leaving remarks that were being covered over by what could be described as a white beard connecting with his sideburns. His felt and tugged his bushier eyebrows, eyes widening as the amount of fur he was seeing and feeling stab through his body. It was like being stung a thousand times as the fur rose up his body and down his body at the same time, merging his body’s thick white coat over his pectorals. He thought it was going to be over as the stinging had calmed down over his torso, but his ears still tingled sharply and they elongated, growing and thinning out. Jordan grabbed the tip of his ears, pulling on them from the pain they were causing him. It was creepy feeling the fur spread under his paws as the ears were completely turned white. He let go of them and they flopped limply to the sides of his head. His nose twitched and he snuffled, staring aghast as it blackened infront of his eyes. It felt much wetter and cooler, which wasn’t helping him at all.
Experiencing his own changes were hard enough, but actually witnessing his own reflected transformation was more traumatizing.
Feral Labs is my employer. I am loyal to Feral Labs. Whatever happens to me, I deserve it Feral Labs supports me. I've been disloyal to Feral Labs, I deserve punishment Feral Labs is my owner.
I've disappointed Moreau, I need to impress him Moreau is Feral Labs. I serve Moreau Moreau protects me. I like serving Moreau, he cares for me. I deserve whatever happens to me for betraying them. Moreau wouldn't turn me into an animal unless I deserved it. I serve Moreau. I've been very very bad Moreau is my owner. I want to be a good boy
His thoughts, or what he perceived as his thoughts in the voice of Moreau, repeated in his head, clearly and forcefully, alternating between the subliminals that had later been added to the mix and modified to play in Jordan’s own voice. Was it the guilt of lashing out at Doctor Moreau for making him inject himself? He’d been forceful in his adamant dismay of the doctor’s decision, even if it wasn’t his place to speak out. He felt dizzy as he leaned over the sink, letting his face hang low towards the filling sink. The voices repeated and repeated, attacking him with the riddled guilt of all behaving poorly while trying to work so hard to be good for Doctor Moreau.
He stared with intensity in the rippling water, believing it to be over. The changes had been far less painful this time. Was it possible that he’d been overreacting all this time? Then it was all his fault. Everything had been all his fault and he owed Doctor Moreau a sincere apology. These thoughts he believed to be his own and genuine, tearing through him with the illusioned reality that Jordan’s atonement was only pushed further behind by his continued failings. The injections were placed in his control for Jordan to prove his genuine dedication and want to make amends. He hadn’t been serious in his desire, apparent by this moment of realization in a delirium brought on by the loyalty serum’s effect.
Jordan’s epiphany was interrupted by a horrible stretching pain in his mid-section. He felt like he was being torn in two directions at once, without apparent change; however, that pain was followed up by an even more horrible pain, the pain in his gut that had been experienced moving around in his stomach these past few weeks. Jordan clutched his stomach, hunched over in agonized groans. It felt like something was in there, clawing its way out. Something moving that wanted to be free.
Jordan’s eyes shot open wider than they’d ever been in his entire life, losing his footing in puddles of the spilled water. He crashed against the bathroom door, banging his head hard as he screamed out at the top of his lungs. Straight from the Aliens movies, something indeed pushed forth from Jordan’s stomach. Paws! PAWS! Paws had emerged from either side of his stomach without as much as leaving any scarring. They… they… they’d …. moved on their own!
Trembling in fear and gasping for ragged breath, Jordan stared at his tiny paws as the repeating thoughts had been quieted –for now at least- but not forgotten. Jordan was so afraid to move, a naked and vulnerable heap of fur, and he’d be unaware, until next he looked in the mirror, that a white streak now adorned through his hair.
"Jordan, you will never tell me what I can and can't tell you to do again. Ever, you will always inject your own serums, because it's what I want. I come first, you have to be strong for me. Goodnight Jordan, don't disappoint me again." Came Doctor Moreau’s voice over the intercom.
Playtime was over.
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Posted: Fri Feb 16, 2007 6:21 pm
Jordan hadn’t bothered to crawl into bed. He didn’t deserve to sleep in comfort that night. After turning the faucet off, he laid himself back down into the puddles of water, without at least setting down towels first. On the bathroom floor Jordan laid his head over folded paws. He couldn’t lay on his stomach as he was fond of doing, having to rest on his side. His bottom quivered as he’d closed his eyes uneasily, sleeping those five hours on the cold, wet floor.
The return of his lights in his duplex, aided with the beckoning voice to awaken, Jordan rose, soggy and dripping, like a drown rat, his dense double-coating of fur matted. His paws lost their footing as he tried to get up, slamming face-first into the tile. The recently-changed dog growled in frustration, not only to his pratfall, but to the day before. For all his efforts, he hadn’t changed as much as he’d believed. He was no different than when he’d arrived and no closer to redemption.
He was hungry, ravenously so. The matter of his soaked body and wet floor needed tending first, laying out towels to absorb the water and then spending much time drying and re-drying his fur till he was still only mildly damp. His fur was great for repelling water, but not when it’s immersed in it for that long.
His side was sore from sleeping in an uncomfortable position in an uncomfortable manner. In some way, it had been self-imposed punishment to himself for the way he’d bitten the hand that feeds him. He had no right to take that tone with Doctor Moreau, nor dictate what he should or should not do.
Jordan still hadn’t dressed. He was pondering methods of hiding his new paws. It creeped him out how they moved when his arms or legs did and certainly they would have that effect on others. Even in just his fur, Jordan was feeling uncomfortable. He rose to turn down the temperature in his duplex, dropping it into the sixties. He felt so itchy all over now and his tiny paws kicked as he scratched all over. That felt so weird. So very disturbingly weird.
Jordan maneuvered onto his bed, legs crossed, with Thumper cradled in his lap, petting him. He was at a loss for what he was going to do. He was burning his bridges at both ends with no forseen alternatives to his actions. Doctor Moreau could veto his request to open a clinic before he’s had a chance to requisition the labs. No manner of apology was good enough to suffice this situation. Jordan had a trump card, his ‘get out of jail free’ card.
Feasibly, there was only one way out of the doghouse and the labs could do much worse than kill him. Jordan knew the location. He could potentially retrace his steps, lead them into the jungle. He knew that acrid odor.
“Doctor Moreau.” He spoke with wavering fear “I know where to find Annie.”
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Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 5:18 pm
ToD at the construction site
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Posted: Sat Feb 17, 2007 6:07 pm
After leaving the game at the construction site, Thom had debated heading back to the cafeteria, where he knew a list was posted of who stayed in which duplex. However, instead he elected to just follow Jordan's scent, figuring it was likely to lead him to the duplex before long and give him plenty of time to finish his drinks. It was surprisingly easy to do. The scent was fresh, there hadn't been any rain or anything to make it fade prematurely, and, luckily for Thom, Jordan hadn't been anywhere before the game. He had come straight from his duplex.
Thom had finished one bottle and was half through with the other by the time he came upon the special duplex on the beach. Quite at ease between the alcohol and the knowledge that no one would be there to oppose him, he hummed lazily to himself as he approached the building. Whether of sheer luck on his part or horrible luck on Jordan's, the dog man had forgotten to lock the door, and all it took was a twist of the knob for Thom to get inside.
The cobra's tongue snaked out once, twice, tasting the air of the duplex to be sure there was no one else about. The overwhelming smells of dog and rabbit were all that greeted him, and dog was easily distinguishable as the man who was undoubtably still getting drunk in the jungle. The rabbit on the other hand... Thom slipped inside the room , but lef the door open behind himself, finishing off his second bottle of beer and dropping both bottles on the floor. It would be clear that he had been there anyway, might as well rub it in a bit.
Once inside, a quick exploration of the duplex was enough to reveal the rabbit living in a box near the far side of the room. Without a second thought, Thom reached down and grabbed the rabbit by the scruff of the neck, then, with the other hand, took hold of its feet. His grip was secure enough despite the squirms that resulted when he lifted it from the box, and, once clear, all it took was a quick twist of his wrist for the squirms to end entirely. There was a muffled crack, and the rabbit fell still, soon afterwards disappearing down Thom's throat in a process that took no more than a few minutes.
His appetite sated, Thom set about exploring the duplex, half-heartedly trashing it as he went along. He hadn't intended to actually completely destroy the place, merely go after the rabbit, but as long as he was here, he should see if there was anything worth taking. Drawers were emptied, the closet was searched, and most of Jordan's possessions were left strewn about the room--that it, until Thom found the laptop.
It had been nestled carefully in a briefcase, both of which were marked with the Feral Labs symbol, and seemed to be rather new, though it wouldn't start up for him when he tried to turn it on. After arguing with it for a short while, he replaced it in the briefcase and, picking up the case, headed for the door. He had never been very tech savvy, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone on the island who was, and this...this just might hold something of use to them. He was sure Jordan could do without. However, he wouldn't be able to keep it handy... He would find a spot and bury it, case and all, and perhaps it would still be useful if he found someone to pick at it.
Either way, its loss was sure to give Jordan a scare. Chuckling cheerfully, content from his meal and newfound prize, the cobra slipped out of the door and headed back to the jungle, leaving the duplex lit and wideopen behind him. The duplex was trashed, the rabbit was naught but a hardly-visible lump in Thom's tail, and the cobra had won: Thom 2, Jordan 0.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 2:18 pm
Jordan had crashed into bed after the truth or dare party at the construction sight. The smell of liquor in his room hadn’t registered because of his alcoholic impairment. He’d gotten drunk on purpose because of his recent change and the incidence of injecting himself. It had stolen his thunder and taken that spark that had him acting like a jerk all this time. Jordan was being humbled with his freakish additions, no longer untouchable by Moreau’s science.
His head hurt when he woke up. He’d gotten drunk with the others and unaware of the break-in till he stepped on a shard of a broken bottle, howling in pain as he fell backwards onto his bed, blood dripping fast as it had been a large shard. It’d driven directly through the most sensitive pawpadding, causing him to cringe and wince as he tried to keep his leg still so he could pull it out. He couldn’t grasp the shard in his paws. It kept slipping from his grasp and he was afraid that he’d break it off in his paw, causing damage. He had to get it out quickly because blood was already pooling on the carpet and on his bed and in his fur.
The smell of his own blood was strong in his blackened nose, a lot stronger than he remembered being able to smell. It made his face wrinkle as it hit him hard. The added length in Jordan’s body had made him more flexible than he’d also recalled, carefully swinging his leg across his lap and pulling the glass-embedded paw to his face he shivered at the size of the chunk lodged in him. If his paws couldn’t grasp the glass to pull it out then he’d just have to hope that he could pull it out with his fangs. He stretched his torso forward, opening his jaws and hoping this worked as he cautiously clamped into it and tugged, wincing, whimpering and whining as his leg jarred, slicing him across his cheek in the process. He swiped his cheek, staining his paw with blood, wrinkling his nose more as he sniffed it. He’d have to try it again to remove the glass.
He steadied himself as best he could, but he was shaking and trembling with the throbbing pain shooting through his paw and up his leg with every slight jolting movement. Jordan tugged on the glass again in his fangs, slowly, carefully, pulling it out. A gush of blood dribbled out as he pulled it free, amazed by this feet of dexterity. A little extra length had made all the difference, of course it made him feel even more like a dog in accomplishing it.
Jordan shuddered a bit from seeing the size of the shard and becoming more and more doglike as the days had drawn on. Up until recently, he’d been rather cocksure and headstrong, but now… he wasn’t sure if being Doctor Moreau’s dog was cracked up to be what it was meant to be. He’d been left to his own devices for so long and had to figure things out on his own, which had led to trouble and Jordan acting in ways he never would have before. He thought about this as he hobbled to the bathroom to find some cotton and bandaging for his bleeding paw. He sat down on the edge of the tub, applying the cotton to stop the bleeding and wrapped his paw up tightly.
He wasn’t looking forward to cleaning this mess up and would call the labs later to have someone come out and do it for him.
It was then that Jordan noticed the open case and the lack of the labtop. Not even thinking of where the rabbit had gotten off to, Jordan stared uselessly at the open case. Moreau would definitely take this out of his hide.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 8:43 pm
New rp
Tears were streaming down her eyes still, as Lauren was crying uncontrollably and has been walking towards the beach. All she had was a basket with remnants of what was suppose to be a loving picnic turned disaterous. She wasn't sure why she kept the basket. Some of the things still smelled so strongly of Nita.
Lauren had no clue where she was going, but the beach seemed to call her. It was when she spotted Jordan's duplex she knew why. Jordan had been Lauren's closest friend on the island so maybe she just needed some company. She needed someone as she was scared to death of what she might do to herself in this state of mind.
Nita and the island, that was all that she had. And the island had finally won. She tried to change, but couldn't change for Nita. She tried so hard, they both had. But it all just exploded in their faces in the end.
Lauren kicked at the door of the duplex with her foot, her hands still full of the picnic supplies. She hoped someone would be home.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 8:53 pm
The cleaning crew had come and gone about an hour before and Jordan was huddled in the furthest corner of his duplex, cowering, whimpering as he knew Moreau would strike down on him with the force of God and it would not be pretty. Not only was his rabbit gone, but someone had vandalised his living space, with everything still in disarray. At least the glass had been cleaned up and it didn't reak of alcohol now, though some blood still remained on the carpet from where he'd bled all over. His mantra had been '********' even as the crew had been by. He'd been in that position for several hours since calling for assistance.
The sudden kick to the door made him jump and bang his head against the door with a loud exclamation of pain. He dreaded answering the door for fear of it being Moreau come to deal out punishment in person. His breathing was accelerated, almost raggedly so and his pupils dilated in his beautiful brown eyes.
Slowly, he rose, whimpering with a loud yelp as he stepped on his sore paw, bandaged in bloody cotton and and ace bandaging. He slunk over his bed hesitantly, on all fours as he crawled to the other side and hobbled the rest of the way to the door. The door opened and Jordan immediately cringed in fear, not seeing Lauren at first, as his eyes had been closed and his arms protecting his face. She'd see that he'd changed again and this model of Jordan came with a new feature: two little paws emerging from his stomach, kicking and flailing.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 9:05 pm
Lauren had opened the door since no one answered. She was still crying unconrollably she almost didn't see anything going around her behind her tear soaked face.
She dropped her things on the floor and whiped her eyes and nose, snot covering the fur on her arm. Sight did not find her what she had thought to find here. For one, the place had looked like it had been robbed, for another, she had seen what appeared to be a weird mutated dog at first, but then she caught glimpse of hair and a human face hidden behind those paws.
"Jordan... oh s**t!" Was all she mentioned saying in between sniffs. "I... jus... wanted to... TALK WHAT HAPPENED!" She happened to get out.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 9:14 pm
He needed her support right now as much as she needed his. He recoiled at the reaction, feeling insecure and self-conscious about himself. He looked away, ashamed of his appearance. For someone as vane as Jordan, this was an incredible blow to his ego. He was covered in thick white fur from chin to hindpaws and was naked as the day he was born. So much double-coating of fur made clothes no longer an option. He even had to turn down the temperature of his duplex to avoid heat stroke.
He limped towards Lauren, embracing her tightly wordlessly, tummy paws moving against her fur. He hadn't even thought about the fact that he was naked and pressed up against her. He just needed a hug badly from a close friend. He'd become close to her in their previous meetings and from the pact that they'd forged, he felt even closer to her than before. Jordan was only mildly relieved that it hadn't been Moreau at the door.
"Lauren..." he choked out, faintly, afraid "I'm so afraid.."
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 9:28 pm
Lauren was rather surprised to have her friend come up to her a wimper in fear. She didn't know what to say or do. This was suppose to be about her... right?
But then again it felt nice to be hugged right now, even with the highly alien other limbs Jordan had grown. Lauren let herself be embrassed and cried back, "I'm... I am too." She admitted. She really had everything figured out before this and now, nothing. "What happened?!" She asked again.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 9:36 pm
Jordan bit his trembling, bottom lip and hugged her more, sniffling as he laid his head onto her shoulder. "I don't know what happened.." he apoke meekly, quite unlike in their other conversations. "I'm in so much deep s**t.."
He closed his eyes for moment, holding back the tears as Jordan starting hyperventalating. "Some one broke in while I was gone.." He pulled back just a bit to notice that she wasn't doing well either. He studied her intently for a second before asking with deep concern "Oh god, Lauren, are you alright..?"
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 9:45 pm
Lauren continued to cry, but held it as he told her what happened, "What the hell!" She nearly yelled as she pulled away from the hug to look around her. "What!? Why didn't you lock your duplex? These things are near impossible to break into." memories of the lockdown flooded her mind. But the practical couldn't hold her too much longer.
"I was... I was with someone... Nita.." She said between sobs, "An... an and... SHE BROKE UP.. wit...." Then Lauren started crying some more as she landed on his bed curled up into a little ball. "She kicked me out... she told me... she told me to get cancer! ********! I just got over... over... over it..." What she was saying was barely making any sense, "MYMOM DIaheyied of CANcerhurr... hurr... AHHH!" She started tossing on the bed, tearing into the linens in uncontrolled rage and tears. Fabric started flying around her as she growled and hissed and punched her anger away. Her claws made especially for digging made this easy to do, as holes developed on the blankets, the sheets, and started into the mattress.
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Posted: Sun Feb 18, 2007 10:05 pm
"I... forgot to.." he answered her about locking his duplex, head held low in stupidity. He had to get off his paws, the bloodied one aching in particular, but also due to the fact that he was woozy from a lack of food. It’d been… four days now without food? “..because of everything that’s happened in the past few days..” he slumped against the wall near the head of his head as she laid down onto his bed.
He didn’t stop her from tearing into his bed. Hell, he’d wanted to do that more than once since his change. “Dear god… Lauren, I’m so very sorry..” he laid a paw upon her shoulder and rubbed the fur with his pawpads in what could be considered a massaging manner. “Let it all out.. don’t hold back, remember our pact? Just let it all out and you’ll feel better for it..”
He wanted to tell her all about what had happened recently, but he needed her to work the rage through her system first so she’d be able to listen. He just watched her tear apart his bed as fluff and stuffing and cloth went this way and that. He never took his eyes off of her, watching her brutally disembowel his bed. The bathroom floor was more comfortable anyways. It kept him cool at night even with his thick fur.
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