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Ambrose took a deep shaking breath as he walked in, not budging from the bed. He did indeed feel very self-conscious about all of this, and it was taking about all of his resolve not to hide under the covers and hope for it all to just go away.

A bitter snort was the initial response to the hobbit comment. "Right." A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth as he brooded. He knew he was probably just trying to cheer him up, but honestly, it wasn't helping a great deal. he didn't particularly want to be compared to a hobbit, hairy toes or not.

"I .... I don't exactly know" he started, staring down at his feet, which didn't help him get his mind off of it. "It... started yesterday afternoon .... I was feeling miserable... itchy... and... it just kept getting worse.... By... by the end of it, I looked like this." He gestured at himself in frustration. "I don't know what the hell was in those injections, but this isn't some damn drug. Matthew must be right - this has to be... genetic or something. Hair and nails I can buy with drugs or hormones... but not..... all of this."

Some of the fire was coming back into his voice with the sympathetic ear. "And - and I called them up on the speakerphone - and they didn't seem surprised! I spoke with Dr. Lockheart and she couldn't even stop Giggling of all things! She wasn't taking me seriously! And she could see me - somehow! She mentioned me in my boxers! And then they cut me off!"

He was exasperated. taking a breath and leaning back a bit. "And I think a beer might be just what the doctor ordered.... no pun intended." He wrung his hands. "I... I don't know what to do! They know about this - they must have been expecting this!"

"That's an understatement" Ambrose muttered in response to the "sucked bad" that the Dude commented on. But he listened to his information as well, nodding and agreeing.

"It makes sense... and I think that there is a much bigger, more expensive project going on here than even our most out-there theories guessed at." He glared around the room at nothing in particular, wondering where these cameras would be. "And they saw you even out in the jungles...?" Ambrose swallowed. His brow furrowed and he looked back at the dude and the bandage on his cheek. "YOu got bit by a snake?!" He said, concern coming into his voice.

Could they really be monitering the ENTIRE Island? Even the thick brush of the jungle? He looked down at the fur sprouting form the backs of his hands and the answer seemed pretty clear to him. There was a LOT of money tied up in this project. "They've got us right where they want us.." Ambrose said bitterly. "They can watch us then... we can't leave unless they want us to... I've even seen armed guards around the Island in case we act up I assume. And, I'm guessing they never even mailed out my letters...." He faltered, his eyes going to a framed picture on the nightstand of Ambrose smiling cheerily with a cute brunette in his arms.

He waited for the Dude to return before continuing, accepting the bottle, and twisting it open, knocking it back for a deep pull. He coughed a bit, unused to guzzling it like that, but right now, he didnt' care. After a moment, he spoke up quietly. "Do you think... they'll let me go after this...? They... they said over the intercom that they could pay for hair removal... that it would probably not grow back again if the stuff was out of my system.... but.... I... I want to believe them, but I'm finding it harder and harder the more I learn."

Ambrose took another swallow of the bitter liquid and sighed, thinking. "Well...." he picked at a spot on the sheet with his nails, the sound of ripping fabric soon followed as he jerked his hand back and tried to act as if he hadn't done anything.

"I'm not so sure about that... I... I haven't spoken with my folks in over a year now. I..." He gesticulated. "I kind of walked out on them after we had a big fight. They wanted me to go to med school. I wanted to go to UMass for the fencing team..." He looked back at the photo, a sad smile on his face. "Angelina..... she'll miss me. I know that, but her family situation isn't much better than mine was. Even if she came looking for me, I mean, she doesn't have much money, what could someone do?" He sighed, leaning back. "God, I miss her already".

Ambrose pondered the other people he had listed. "And then there's Greer, who's supposedly here for a project. I'm sure people know she's here, but I dont' know how long she is supposedly going to be away. And Cassidy's here for the job - she could be here for a while and not be missed because of that.... But Matthew - he's just vacationing...." He shook his head. "Regardless, I mean, could they just.... let us go... after this?! What in God's name are they doing here?" He gestured down to himself again. "I signed a lot of paperwork... I don't know if they can do this or not... Aubrey said something about releasing against unforseen side-effects, but this is ridiculous. It's more than just the fu-hair...." A blush rose to his cheeks and he looked uncomfortable again.

"Well..." the sense of forboding only deepend with The Dude's attempts at encouragement. "I didn't know where... precisely I was going. Only that I was going to an outside-the-US laboratory headquarters for Feral Laboratories. They didn't say precisely were other than "the Caribbean". Made it out to sound all holiday-ish. But they still have the name of the lab. I don't think Matthew had known about the lab before he came here. I don't know about Greer..."

He shook his head at the reference to Aubrey. "You didn't hear her over the intercom. I swear, she was laughing when I told her what had happened. I heard her talking all lovey-dovey to someone in the background- I think it was the Doctor himself. I think she knows perfectly well what's going on here - but I don't see how she can be so damned nice about it unless she has some serious problems of her own. I mean I told her..." He hesitated, the blush coming back again. He continued, his voice a scared whisper "I told her I had ******** grown a tail and she just laughed and seemed excited."

He fidgeted some with the bottle. "This... this is all that's going to happen, right Dude..? I mean... after this, they reverse it and I go home.... or this is as bad as it gets... right?"

((*chuckles* Thanks whee - I'll do a tag back tonight and we can continue tomorrow :3 - I need sleep as well - I have a 9:30 class >> Tag back at your convenience :3))

Ambrose breathed a shaking sigh again and nodded. He was glad the Dude was there, as hesitant as he had been to open the door and reveal what had happened to him to anyone. Somewhere, it grated on him that he was showing weakness, but right now he really didnt' care. The Dude, at least, was someone that he felt he could trust here. He was in the same situation as he was. Had he encountered him in any other situation he might have scoffed and passed him off as an older man who still didn't have any real direction in his life. But then again, he had nearly passed Angelina off as the stereotype that the other kids in Highschool had. Things really were more than meets the eye with some people, and he had been taught that valuable lesson once again.

He rested his hand on the Dude's for a moment when the Dude patted his shoulder, nodding. "Thank you. Seriously." He looked up to him again. "And food would be wonderful. I'm famished."

He leaned back against the headboard again, his mind reeling at the information that had been exposed in the past 24 hours. His pleasure "holiday" had turned into a nightmare... and as much as he wanted to believe that things really were still technically going according to plan, he knew better. He only wondered how deep this "plan" of theirs went. Was this going to happen to everyone? Were they ever going to let them go.... and was it goign to get worse...?

Ambrose thanked the Dude sullenly as he took the plate and, without his characteristic manners, immediately dug into the chicken. It tasted so good, and his belly felt SO empty.

Looking back up at the dude he listened to what he was saying, getting at least a whole piece of chicken down before he spoke up. "I... I can't think of anything significant that's happened since the last injection... That must be what it is... they all but admitted that this is a "side effect" of the process when I called and complained." He seemed to be settling down a little bit with the food in his stomach, but he was worlds away from relaxed. "Do you think that this is their ultimate goal? To make us like this? Or worse? Or IS this just a side effect of something benefitial? It's obvious that it's genetic, but is a physiological change the ideal? "

He shook his head, realizing just HOW trapped they were. "I... geez, you're right - they control all the exits, don't they..." His voice sounded defeated. "But.. you said that Dr. Lockheart found you within minutes when you were in the middle of the jungle with a snakebite? Where could we hide? And what good would it do anyway? I Can't live off the land - and there ARE bugs, and snakes, and whatever else out there."

Ambrose looked a self-conscious again at the mention of Greer, a flush rising to his face. "I don't know..." He hesitated. Common sense then kicked him in the stomach reminding him that she had a right to know, especially if she might be subject to this herself in the near future.

"Maybe you're right" He sighed. He was feeling pretty damned helpless. Irate, but caged. "They would certainly know more than I would about what is possible, and possible scientific motivations.... but..." He winced "I wish they didn't have to see me like this... Especially Greer. And I hardly even know Matt."

He pondered over the Dude's theory and winced. "I hope not... I mean... With guns and everything you'd think that just because someone had fur and fangs wouldn't necessarily make them any more combat effective, just rash and prone to stupid mistakes." What he didn't want to say was that that was one of the scariest things he had heard - being forced to hurt other people - and like a savage animal, hardly even a person in body OR mind. He gave an unconscious shudder.

Ambrose nodded emphatically about the chicken. "Scrumptious" He said around a mouthful. Then swallowed, giving a sheepish, fanged wince. "Sorry. It really is. At least there's one thing right. Assuming that there aren't more drugs or... hormone stuff or anything in the food too..." He sighed "Not that we have much alternative."

His mind went back to home, to Angelina, to normalcy and fencing. Hanging on as tightly as he could to the SLIM possibility that maybe, just maybe this was a forseen side effect that they weren't allowed to tell him about in advance, and they really could reverse it and send him home in the next few days, and that he really was just overreacting he finished up the chicken and set the plate aside, licking at the juice left on his fingers. "well... the two weeks isn't up yet..." He swallowed. "Do you think that there is honestly any possibility that this IS just a study of something that can be reversed, and they'll send me back home with the 5 grand?"

Ambrose slumped and looked down at his knees, feeling quite discouraged. Indeed, Ambrose had never been personally very religious, prefering to trust in things that were tangible. This situation, however, had already caused him quite a bit of soul-searching.

He looked up at the Dude; the question not having occurred to him. "Well... I mean..." he spluttered. "I can't go out like this!" He whispered, scandalized. What would people think?

After a moment he hesitated. But if this was going to happen to othes.... but he didn't know that for certain! But there were only about a dozen people on the Island.... but if he was stuck here with them for some time, then yes - he very well DID care what they thought of him.

He glanced over to his wardrobe of short-sleeved polos that he had packed for a tropical Island - hardly much in the way of concealing clothing. There was the fencing mask, but that was downright ridiculous. He considered his razor.... he could shave.... but he had only brought along one razor for the duration, and the blade was certain to dull before it even made it through a fraction of the thick hair.

"Why..." he finally asked. "What would you do?"