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Monsters Lurk In The Dark; Werewolf
Topic Started: Feb 14 2014, 05:58 AM (284 Views)
Specter
Unregistered

Date: February 10th
Time: 11am


As he walked down the hallways which were already starting to feel familiar to him again, Dallas had to wonder why he felt so nervous. This was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Laudable even, some might say. He had an issue and reaching out to someone who might be able to help was the right thing to do. There was no shame in it, he knew that.

The problem was that he really didn't know Jack Russell. He certainly knew of him but, as far as he could recall, they'd never met when Dallas had been a student at the school a few years previously. Going to him like this meant discussing something which was deeply personal to him and that was an uncomfortable thought, with anyone, let alone someone he didn't know. He had no idea if Jack would judge him, or pass him off to someone else, or think he was weird for bringing it to his desk at all. Jack could laugh him out of the office for all he knew.

And addressing this subject meant confronting the fact that his shadow wasn't just his best friend. It was also his greatest enemy. That was hard.

His anxiety levels weren't being helped by the shadow. The deep grey silhouette was whispering into his mind as it slid along the wall beside him, pestering him with insidious words of self-doubt, of denial, of aggression. Dallas lifted his chin and did his best to ignore it, even if his shadow's unrest made his stomach twist. He couldn't really blame the shadow for being so poorly behaved. He was, after all, heading towards a conversation which could lead to suppression of the shadow's influence. If Jack was able to help him, Dallas would be better equipped to stave off the negative effects of the shadow, more able to assert his own personality whenever they were merged. That was an idea his shadow wasn't so thrilled by.

Of course, it had no real emotions or personality at all. It was just an extension of Dallas's own mind, a shard of his psyche, a sliver of his dark side. All the anxieties it was expressing belonged to Dallas himself, not the shadow. It wasn't a person, it wasn't alive. That was another cold fact which Dallas preferred not to think about, but he was about to rob himself of that luxury.

Pausing outside Jack Russell's office, Dallas drew in a deep breath to gather his thoughts, and found his gaze settling on his shadow. He suddenly felt sad, like he was betraying the flat mass of blackness in front of him, and for a moment he seriously considered walking straight back to his bedroom. But he didn't. Instead, he raised his hand and gently pressed his fingertips against the wall, touching the shadow's hand. "This is for the best," he murmured gently. "I've gotta do this. You know that."

Sighing, Dallas dragged his attention away from the shadow and his own bizarre relationship with his mutation, and turned to face the door in front of him. Forcing himself, he rapped his knuckles against it, then pushed the door open. He hovered in the doorway for a moment, nerves attacking him one last time.

"Um, hi. Mr. Russell?" Dallas hesitated, then found his voice again. "I'm Dallas Gibson. Do you have a minute? There's something I'd like to talk to you about."
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Werewolf
Unregistered

There were few things Jack genuinely disliked about teaching, one of them being the amount of paperwork, a task only second in his grand scheme of dislikes next to using the institute's computerized grade book system. Given that had no personal computer in his home, and taking papers to work on after hours meant they would often become crumbled or lost, Jack spent quite a bit of his spare time during the day in his office.

Now that his free hours were more precious with a baby on the way, Jack kept his office door closed to block out the daily din of the school--shoes squeaking, murmurs of conversation, hissing of pipes--and a friendly plaque beneath the peep window proclaimed 'please knock' to drive his point home. No matter how hard he tried, however, he could always sense everything outside his door, whether the guilty parties meant to enter or not.

Thus when a pair of shoes crept near his doorstep and suddenly stopped, Jack could focus on nothing else, becoming privy to every subtle movement and sound made by whomever was outside. Their scent alternated between crisp and unclear, indicating some kind of physical grappling between forms, further supported by the fact that the unknown person was seemingly talking to himself.

As awkward as Jack felt listening in on a private moment and self-assuring conversation, he realistically had no other option other than to busy himself with grading papers, focusing on the scratching of his pen as opposed to the shuffling outside his office door. When his visitor did summon enough courage to knock and let himself in, Jack managed his best expression of surprise as the resulting fair-haired young man introduced himself and quietly asked for some counsel on an undisclosed subject.

"Oh yeah.. sure. Um.. have a seat." Jack gestured to the modest wooden chairs in front of his desk, their similar grain suggesting they were hewn from the same tree.

The feral man took a moment to shuffle the papers on his desk to give Dallas some time to settle in, his scrawl of a handwriting visibly scribbled in the margins of quizzes with a modest blue ink. Truthfully, Jack was relieved to have a distraction; sitting all alone in his quiet and comfortable office made the perfect environment for sleep to creep into his bones, especially considering how little he had been getting for the past few nights. His pregnant wife tossed and turned for hours trying to get comfortable, and he often laid awake next to her, anticipation gripping his senses to make him prepared for the moment when their son was ready to arrive.

Jack cleared his throat, putting his papers aside and interlocking his hands on the smooth surface of his desk.

"So um.. what can I do for you, Dallas?"
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Specter
Unregistered

Dallas's gaze immediately dropped to Jack's desk to see the jumble of papers spread out before the man he was seeking, and he wondered if he was interrupting important work. If he was, maybe he should just apologise and come back another time? That idea was dismissed quickly though. Jack would tell him if he was too busy to talk. Besides, he knew why he was contemplating such a thing. He was listening too much to his shadow's reluctance and looking for an excuse to put this off. He couldn't do that. He was here now and he was going to see this through.

"Thanks," he replied when Jack invited him in and offered him a seat, though his voice came out as more of a mumble than he'd intended it to. Where was his usual exuberance?

Stepping through the doorway, Dallas had to exert conscious pressure to pull his shadow through after him, something which was very rare. Usually, he had such complete control over his silhouette that he could rely on his subconscious to control it at all times, to allow it to respond to his impulses and to keep it still in public. Right now, though, he found he had to mentally force the shadow to follow him, yanking him into the room, something which Dallas found deeply irritating. He shot the shadow an annoyed glance to express his displeasure and, suitably chastened, the shadow's shoulders sagged. Once Dallas had carefully closed the door behind him, the shadow followed him across the floor to Jack's desk without further misbehaviour.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you, Mr. Russell. I'll try not to take up too much of your time," Dallas offered as he lowered himself into the surprisingly comfortable wooden chair. As Jack tidied away the papers on his desk, the young mutant found himself staring at the blue scribbles on the pages absently, his thoughts refusing to organise themselves.

The X-Man asked him what he needed and Dallas forced himself to lift his gaze. Jack wasn't the Wolverine-like intimidating presence he'd feared. Not that the guy couldn't dropkick him through the wall if he wanted to, Dallas was sure, but he wasn't doing anything to make him uncomfortable. Dallas was doing a good enough job of generating discomfort all on his own.

"I, uh... I was hoping that... um..." He trailed off, wanting to look in the direction of his shadow, which was cast sullenly on the nearest wall, but forcing himself not to. He really should have rehearsed this before he got here. "Well, now that I'm back here, I'm going to be doing some further training. Combat training, that kind of thing. Because I'd liked to be placed on a field team. Eventually. I mean, I'm going to be part of the catering staff here but that's not what I came back for. Not that I'm not happy to work in the kitchen. That's fine. I mean, it's great. Just... uh..." Somehow, he couldn't seem to stop these rambling words from spilling out of his mouth and horror blossomed in his stomach as he realised he'd already drifted a mile from the point.

He really needed to calm down. Urgently. To that end, Dallas drew in a deep breath, held it for a second, then let it out with a quiet laugh and a shake of the head. "I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous here. And I babble when I'm nervous, so..." He sighed, this time allowing himself to glance in the direction of his shadow for a moment before returning his attention to Jack. Just get to the point, Gibson. "Anyway. The school's arranging a training schedule for me, and that'll be great. But I was really hoping you'd be willing to help me. I think there are things you could teach me that nobody else could. About... about control."
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Werewolf
Unregistered

Jack realized that he was on the opposite side of the desk for the first time, acting not as a young wayward wanderer but as the mentor--a man supposedly enriched with life and experience. The shoes for that part still felt too big to fill, but in this moment he would have to put them on anyway.

Dallas was nervous, stuttering all over himself as he tried to explain his goals at Xavier and what was keeping him from them--control. Not wanting to pry into exactly what the younger man meant, Jack stayed quiet and nodded until he was finished, but he supposed it had something to do with the way Dallas's shadow uncomfortably flickered.

"Control? Oh.. you mean.. yeah.. of course." Jack nodded, wishing for a far better level of verbal articulation than he possessed, but on the other hand, his relatable experience was the most important factor. Even with more than a decade padding the present and his twisted past, Jack had not forgotten what it meant to be in the position Dallas was now.

"You're um.. you're right. I mean.. I could teach you."

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, gesturing between them with the open palm of the other,"But uh.. it won't be like this--having a conversation. I don't think talking's our strong point?" He gave Dallas a small smile, trying to reassure him.

He immediately thought better of taking this matter too lightly, however, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to change his demeanor; Jack then decided he should approach this like any other class in that he was there to help, but Dallas would have to hold up his end of the arrangement to receive that help.

Pushing his sleeve back over the point of his elbow Jack held his arm up for Dallas to see. "But um.. you should know.. that this...," he paused allowing his arm to swell, fur sprouting from every pore and talons from his fingertips until his forearm, hands, and fingers were fully transformed. "This.. it takes time."

Jack sat back in his chair, the fur on his arm slowly retracting in an undulation of skin and shrinking muscle.

"You can't go in too optimistic but um.. you can't be afraid. You have to accept yourself and who you are. .....can you do that?"
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Specter
Unregistered

Dallas was visibly relieved when Jack spoke to confirm that he could teach him, his shoulders losing some of their rigidity and tension. He was over that first hurdle now and all those anxious noises his shadow had been making in his head, all those suggestions that Jack wouldn't care or would laugh at him, were banished. The X-Man immediately struck him as a good man he could trust. Dallas had a tendency to assume the best in everyone he met but in this case, he really needed to believe he could rely on this man.

Jack's joke about their inability to communicate with actual words did even more to relax the younger man, bringing forth a brief laugh from Dallas as he ducked his head in recognition of the truth of it. "I guess it's not, no," he admitted through a self-deprecating smile. Under normal circumstances, he was pretty good at talking, he'd never found it hard to keep up conversation and witter about nothing. But these weren't normal circumstances. It was rare for him to willingly discuss something this personal to him and this topic had undercut his ability to express himself.

Jack became more serious again and even offered up a demonstration of his own self-control, his arm undergoing the transformation Dallas knew the man was capable of initiating across his entire body. It was, in the truest sense of the word, awesome, and Dallas found it impossible to do anything but stare as fur grew from Jack's skin, then slowly shrank back down again. So fascinating was it to watch that he had to force himself to listen to what Jack said next.

Before answering the important question the X-Man put to him, Dallas paused to point a finger at Jack's arm. "That was so cool, by the way," he grinned, a flash of the easily enthused man he was when not crippled by nerves. His smile quickly dropped though, recognising the gravity of what Jack had asked him.

"I can do that. I understand who I am. Who... we are," he clarified, referring to himself and his shadow, two sides of the same coin. The shadow had stretched unusually far from Dallas, pulling himself further down the wall to the back of the room as if trying to stay out of the conversation. "I'm not afraid of what I am, but I am afraid of what I could do if I don't face up to this."

He drew in a breath, clasping his hands together in his lap. He should probably clarify exactly what the problem was, in case Jack was wondering why some guy who did stuff with shadows would turn to the feral specialist for help. "Okay. So, I know how to use my powers, that's never been a problem. Like, they work the way I want them to when I want them to. But... see, I merge with my shadow. When I do that, the cells of my body are boosted so I'm faster and stronger. But it's not just a physical change. My... I guess you'd call it my dark side, it's locked in the shadow and when we merge, it kinda influences me." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wishing they were chatting about football or women or, hell, nuclear physics, anything else. "It's, uh... it's dark. Twisted, aggressive, violent... that kinda thing. I can control it for a short time but the longer we stay merged, the more I want to act on those urges."

Dallas turned his head to look at his shadow for a moment. The silhouette had no eyes but he could feel it staring back at him all the same. "It's weird, I know," he said quietly, cheeks pink with self-conscious embarrassment. "But... I thought you might understand. I want to be an X-Man someday. I came back here because I'm serious about that, I believe in what this school stands for. But it isn't just about that. It's... I..." Dallas stared down at his clasped hands, at his whitening knuckles. "I don't know how I'd live with myself if I ever hurt anybody. And I can't just keep hoping everything'll be okay. So whatever you can do to help me, any techniques you can teach me to control those urges, anything... I know how hard it might get and I know I'd have to go to some dark places but I'm willing to do that. I need to."
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Werewolf
Unregistered

Jack's face softened, seeing a younger version of himself at the other end of his desk--a man desperate for control but terrified to reach for it. He allowed himself this vision only for a moment, recognizing that Dallas was in far better shape than he had been at that age; there was more hope.

He nodded quietly as Dallas explained how his abilities, feeling more empathy for this near stranger than he thought possible. It was difficult not to relate given that their mutations largely functioned in the same way--taking on another form had powerful benefits but dangerous pitfalls.

Respectfully keeping his eyes off of the lingering shadow, Jack cleared his throat. "If it helps you, my powers work just like yours. A few years ago, just changing my arm wasn't even possible. It was either.. either all human or all wolf, you know? When I became 'myself' I guess, I would forget everything about being human, or at least a mutant that looked like one, and I was scared to change, but I had to if I wanted to be a part of this team and help people."

Leaning forward in his chair, Jack earnestly smoothed his hands across the grain of his desk and interlocked them again. "But the important thing is that you recognized the need for this now and um.. well the need to do it for yourself. Let that be your motivation--to better yourself for the sake of you."

Cutting his gaze shyly to the door, Jack listened for anyone that might be lingering in the hall before he spoke again. "Look.. I'll level with you Dallas. I uhm.. well I did some very bad things to other people by the time I was your age, and I probably waited too long to get the help that I needed. You're doing this before all that.. so.. let yourself be proud of that, okay?"

After a beat of silence, the shapeshifter busied himself by rummaging around in the drawers of his desk before pulling out a post-it note and a pen. He wrote a few lines of notes in his usual untidy scrawl before handing it to Dallas and adding,"These are some hours I've got free next week. We'll start with some um.. one-on-one combat. I know it's a little bit.. fast I guess to jump in that way, but the best way for me to understand is to see how you are on the field. And don't worry.. you won't hurt me. Unless if you have silver bullets in your pocket."

Jack cringed at his own attempt at humor. "Sorry uh.. I'm not good at jokes. Silver doesn't do anything to me. A chocolate bar though.. different story." He shook his head, gesturing to the note in Dallas's hand. "Anyway.. I uh.. do any of those times work for you?"
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Specter
Unregistered

Dallas could feel the tension draining out of his body even before Jack said anything in reply to his plea. The compassion, the understanding, in the X-Man's face was enough. To know that he didn't sound insane or neurotic or melodramatic or weird or any of the other things he'd been fearful of was a huge relief. He hadn't quite been aware of just how much he'd wound himself up until he finally started to relax. After all that worry, he was already thanking his lucky stars that Jack was here, that Xavier's as a whole was here, offering an answer, a helping hand. Coming back to the school was the best thing he'd done in a long time. This was going to make a difference.

Jack relayed his own experience of having an alternate form and it was like a thunderbolt to Dallas. Everything he said struck a chord in him, and his eyes became rounded, head nodding along earnestly with Jack's words. He described his wolf form as becoming himself, and Dallas could relate to that totally. Though the experience could be a disturbing one, he only ever felt truly whole when he merged with his shadow, as if that was the way he was supposed to be. The ease of forgetting what it was like to be human, the fear of changing forms, the need to do it anyway to make a difference... it was like Jack was describing Dallas's own life and it made the younger man's heart thump faster. This guy genuinely understood him. Dallas's powers were unique but that didn't mean he was alone. That was something he'd always known but never truly felt until this moment.

Even Dallas's shadow was somewhat won over by Jack, despite his discomfort with the idea of Dallas exerting more control. Influenced by Dallas's overwhelmingly positive emotional reaction to Jack, however, the shadow couldn't help but soften his attitude, slowly inching his way back along the wall, the rigidity of his shoulders loosening a little. Dallas could sense the change in his silhouette and was glad of it. It'd make training with Jack a lot easier if the shadow was compliant.

Jack's admission that he'd done some bad things in the past strengthened Dallas's resolve to confront his own control issues, and he appreciated the man's honesty. Already, regardless of any training they might do, Dallas felt like Jack was someone he could talk to if he needed advice or a friendly ear. When the X-Man told him he should be proud, Dallas ducked his head a little, a sheepish smile spreading on his lips. "Thanks. This has been a long time coming but... yeah, I'm glad I did this."

He looked down at the note Jack scrawled on before handing to him, realising it was a list of windows in the man's schedule, and couldn't quite believe this was happening. Half an hour ago, he'd been fully expecting to get thrown out of this room for bothering an X-Man with trivialities, but here Jack was, offering help without hesitation. He laughed at the attempt at humour, a genuine laugh too. Dallas was not a difficult man to amuse usually, his light-heartedness had just been dampened by nerves until now. "I won't bring any chocolate cake up from the kitchen, I promise," he smiled, looking back down at the note and running through his own schedule in his head.

"I'm not totally sure what shifts they have me on in the cafetorium. I'm pretty sure I can do any of these times actually, but I don't wanna mess you around so I'll double check with my boss and get back to you later today to firm up a time and place? And it's totally cool if you have to change plans at the last minute, I know you must have a ton of stuff to do with the baby coming." He paused, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Congratulations on that, by the way. You must be so excited, right?" Looking back at the note, that smile stayed in place, hope for the future causing Dallas's mood to sky rocket. "Starting out with combat training is perfect too. I mean, I wanna grab hold of any help I can get so it... it's just..." He broke off into a laugh. "Sorry, this is just so great for me. Like, to talk to someone who understands. I mean, you get it. You get it. It just means a whole lot to me, I can't even tell you. Thank you, Mr. Russell. Seriously."
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Werewolf
Unregistered

Dallas seemed so eager to get started on training that Jack could hardly help but hoping that next week might hasten its approach, equally curious to see what the other man could do and how they would fare against each other in one-on-one combat. But of course they both knew that there was one event that would trump any training session--the birth of Jack and Rahne's son--an upcoming occasion that Dallas readily congratulated him for.

Nodding, Jack sat back in his chair with a tired smile,"Yeah we're both very excited. It's um.. well it's been different though--with our mutations. A four month pregnancy is... crazy. I don't recommend it."

Despite his anxieties and lack of sleep, Jack still nonetheless beamed as Dallas thanked him for all of his help, feeling at last that he'd held up the title of 'professor' that had been bestowed upon him. "It's no trouble, really, I know I wish I'd had someone to help me when I was ---" Ding dong ding dong! "--when I was uh.. sorry.. that's my--" Ding dong ding dong! The feral man stood, fumbling to jerk the ringing mobile phone from his pocket. Upon seeing that his wife was the one calling, he looked apologetically to Dallas.

"Sorry uhm... it's my wife. Just give me a second?"

Stepping closer to the door, Jack answered the phone with both apprehension and concern. "Rahne? Are you okay? Is everything--oh.. you need me to get what?" His free hand drifted to the back of his head, his fingers twining into his hair. "No... no.. I don't think the bakery will put mustard on a brownie for you----yes but----well of course I'll get them for you----yes, right now I promise. I love y--"

He blinked, pulling the phone suddenly away from his face and casting a confused look to the young man still sitting at his desk. "She uh.. she hung up on me."

Jack rubbed a hand across his weary face as he placed the mobile back into his pocket. "I apologize but I um... I need to go. My wife wants me to get her some... brownies. But with.. well you heard." He paused to cringe at the thought of a sugary treat brimming with a layer of yellow mustard. "So I guess.. I guess I'll just see you next week sometime?"

Unsure of what he should do next, the feral man offered Dallas a handshake,"It will be good to work with you. I'll... I'll try my best to teach you well."
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Specter
Unregistered

Dallas had only been back at the mansion for a couple of days so the news that Rahne's pregnancy had been so accelerated had yet to reach his ears until this moment. To his credit, he kept shock away from his face at the revelation. Jack and his wife had probably had to deal with lots of shocked and befuddled reactions and likely found themselves fielding plenty of probing questions about the situation. Dallas wouldn't add to that. Mutants weren't like other humans, they were all unique and the things which made them unique could have major impacts upon every aspect of their lives. Why would pregnancy be any different? Just four months to carry a baby was extraordinary but no less wonderful (though it was surely intense and hard work, no doubt).

So instead of battering him with queries, Dallas just responded with a good-natured smile. "Yeah, I think I might have to do it the old-fashioned way when the time comes," he grinned. Although, who knew? He was a single man so it would really depend on whoever the mother of his kids turned out to be. For all he knew, she could be a mutant who popped out babies half an hour after conception. ...Hopefully not though. And hopefully it'd be a few years before he found out. He'd leave the baby-makin' to his new mentor for now.

Jack's next words were interrupted by the ringing of his phone, which he was quick to apologise for. Dallas simply held up his hands and offered up a smile. "Go for it, don't worry about me." As Jack stepped away to answer the call, Dallas busied himself with studying the scrawled schedule written on the note the feral man had handed him, respectfully trying to make it seem like he wasn't listening in even though it wasn't really possible for him to avoid it.

He actually made a pretty decent fist of not paying attention to the conversation until the words 'brownies' and 'mustard' were put together. Dallas's eyebrows jumped up his forehead. In his line of work, he'd served up a few odd dishes craved by women who were expecting, but brownies slathered with mustard was a new one on him. Poor old Jack.

When it became evident that Jack's wife had hung up on him, Dallas looked up with a sympathetic grin on his lips. Life was probably not easy for Mr. Russell right now but there was a pretty amazing light at the end of the tunnel getting closer all the time, at least. "No need to apologise," he replied, as he pushed himself up from his seat. "There's no arguing with a lady who needs mustard brownies," he grinned. "I've got a mountain of unpacking I should be getting on with anyway." That unpacking would probably still be sitting there in a month's time because every time he started to do it, he thought of several hundred other things he'd rather be getting on with. Still, he should at least pretend to himself that he was going to be productive.

His smile broadened as Jack offered a palm, and Dallas shook it with firm enthusiasm. "I'm really looking forward to it. Again, I can't say it enough, thank you so much for this. Can't wait to get started." Letting go of the man's hand, Dallas headed towards the door and pulled it open, intending to make a quick exit to allow Jack to go about his urgent business. "I'll be in touch with my schedule as soon as I've talked to the head chef. Good luck finding those brownies," he added, with a grin on his lips, before making his exit.

Once he was in the corridor, Dallas punched the air with delight and set off to tackle the rest of his day, buoyed by hope for the future.

[End]
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