((Mmm... did you put your character anywhere? Not a lot's happened so far. The Komodo dragon shifter's in a hotel room with Chantelle, Kuro, and Reese, Spot and Scout just bumped into each other in Central Park, Alicia and Seth are in a restaurant and were just attacked by some of Whitefield's agents (a rat and an elephant, from what I remember), and Kai and Seven are ALSO in Central park, apparently being pursued by the doctor's agents.))
"Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one-- the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts." --The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis
I decide to take a little fly above central park. With my hawk eyes I spot a Inland Taipan. They are not native to here, not even close. He was a hybrid.
I fly down and phase infront of him. He changes as well.
"Who are you?" He asks.
"Chantelle, a flacon, number four." I reply. He's tall, well built, obviously very strong. My instincts are screaming at me to run away. His are probably telling him I would make a tasty snack.
"Aaron, Snake, number 13."
"Are your instincts driving you insane?" I ask boldly.
"Yes, they are saying your dinner, actually, but I have learned to mostly ignore them."
"I am still learning. Mine are telling me to run very far away."
He laughs, "Good thing we are both so well trained, yes?"
Love is beautiful, but what would love be without life?
She was never good at running. Her feet were flailing through the air, trodding on the toes of random strangers, smacking into things and making her stumble. She grasped Kai's wrist, her heart pumping at a rate of noughts. Roosevelt Island loomed distantly ahead, and suddenly the overpowering urge to dive into its safe depths swamped over her. She could hear them, whoever they were, chasing after them both, knocking people out of their way, into the paths of cars and buses. Horns screeched and her acute ears throbbed with pain.
"Kai, can you swim?" She yelled, suddenly coming to a dead end by the water.
"Well, yes I-" he got no more words in. She'd already shoved him into the icy water, leaping fluidly after him, her body becoming the slender form of an otter, knifing through the surface of the water like a bullet and plunging into its depths.
“Poetry is old, ancient, goes back far. It is among the oldest of living things. So old it is that no man knows how and why the first poems came.”
Scout rolled up off the ground to face her. Her face was twisted into an inhuman canine snarling, lip curled up to show her teeth. Scout felt a similar snarl steal over his face. He wasn't sure what it was about this mangy dog-girl, but she could really boil his blood. She always could.
But things were different now, he was a valued employee of Dr. Whiteside and she lived on the streets. He narrowed his eyes and noticed that hers were red- as if she'd been crying. Good. He had become useful and she could hardly support herself.
With that thought to buoy him, Scout replied, "Believe me- I don't want to. But this is business."
She laughed that INFURIATING hyena-laugh, circling him, and taunted, "Please, do continue."
How did she DO that?? Just the tone of her voice, the condescending, self-assured... UGH. Scout shivered with disgust, putting some space between himself and her. Finally, he remembered the Doctor and forced a calm breath, "Dr. Whiteside wants you back. He could use your, ah, skills."
He stared her down, waiting for an answer. Would Dr. Whiteside really mind if they lost just one potential shifter? Surely she wouldn't be that useful...
I stopped circling as he fixed me with those buggy little eyes of his. That was NOT what I'd expected.
"Do you really think I wanna go back to that lifestyle?" An angry giggle escaped my throat. "Just some weird old man's pet and tool? Look at what he's done to you!"
"Don't talk about Whiteside like that," he squeaked. If he were in his stupid weasel-y form, his fur would be all puffed out. The image was pretty funny to think about.
"What, don't like facing the fact that you're basically a little furry slave?"
He rolled his eyes. "Forget it; I knew you'd turn him down." The ferret-boy started to walk away. I frowned.
"Hang on Three." What was I doing?
"What now?" he asked, sounding angry.
"I'll go... talk to the good Doctor at least." I crossed my arms. "That good enough?"
"Indeed the safest road to Hell is the gradual one-- the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts." --The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis
Kai slipped into his dolphin form almost as soon as the water touched his body. It was a reflex, almost. He dove down, following the motion he'd started, losing himself in the comforting familiarity of water. It just felt so GOOD to have the sound cut off and replaced by the distant ringing and surrounding quiet of the ocean.
The water brushing against his rubbery skin, the powerful downstroke of his tail, the SPEED! Kai sent out a cheerful click, which returned almost instantaneously as a sonar image of the bay he was in.
An otter! Seven was an otter.
Seven. Right. He was escaping- he'd almost forgotten.
Kai rocketed towards her, diving in an up-and-down motion that was as second-nature as walking. Why had he bothered going on land again? THIS was where he belonged. Kai sent a stream of clicks out into the water, announcing himself, claiming this domain. Kai he clicked the sree sound that was his dolphin name. Kai.
Seven was swimming in his slipstream, graceful and sleek and fast. She had been awkward on land and suddenly Kai felt a great kinship with her. She also knew what it was like to feel out of place in air. He whistled his happiness for sonar as much as expression and sped up, though he had to slow down to accomodate his companion.
They both knew where they were going without so much as looking at each other. Out. Out and away from whoever was chasing him. And underwater, where it was quiet and simple and both slow and fast at the same time, nothing else mattered.
