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| Family, plus one, camping trip; Wolfsbane, Werewolf | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 4 2015, 06:03 AM (681 Views) | |
| Chomper | Apr 4 2015, 06:03 AM Post #1 |
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Beast Form
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Time: Morning Date: April 4th, 2015 It could not be denied. Damien Tobias de Chantraine was a city kid. For most of his life he had been surrounded by concrete and glass. Running over his cousin's farmlands was the best part about the trip to France, and all things considered, was for Damien the only good thing. He did not care for the dogs that his brother and sisters had fallen for. The almost nightly bonfires had filed him with a cold dread and forced him into staying indoors. It wasn't that Damien wanted to be a city kid, he just hadn't had the same sort of exposure to the beauties of nature others might. He certainly wasn't an indoor kid though. Even in the dead of winter Damien would rather be looking at the dead trees from the colder side of the glass window panes. And while he had spent a year of his life on a farm, as far from city life as you could get, Damien had never had to rough it. His cousins didn't expect him to do any of the farm work, and with the dead walking around in France, nobody wanted to pitch a tent to sleep outside at night. A soft bed was always near, along with at least cupboards of food. Which was a little problematic when your mutation is transforming into a creature that hunts for its meal. Damien had to learn how to use his animal instincts for something other than just finding something that he could shove into his mouth. Not that there was anything wrong with learning how to follow his nose for his next snack, but said snack was still usually something that you'd go to the store or a McDonald's for. He would need to learn how to get food from nature at some point, along with how to tell if water was safe to drink, and in general how to live a life not dependent upon the comforts that civilization offered. Thankfully he had a teacher with powers similar enough to his that he could learn the lessons necessary from her, and she had a husband who also had powers he could relate to. Although Damien had never met the man, mostly because he was intimidated by the thought of doing so, the two did have something in common that had nothing to do with their genetics. Mr. Russel and Damien shared a birthday. A camping trip was planned, partially because Damien needed to learn how to interact in nature more removed from civilization than the woods by the school, and and maybe partially in a celebration of the shared birthday. The trip probably would have happened sooner if Rahne hadn't been gifted with the power of opposite day and Damien suddenly reading everyone's mind until early February. For part of December, and all of January, the two of them would have nothing that they could work on together, and both had their individual problems to smooth out as a result of the power swap. Then of course there was the day to day needs that came with being the parent of a small child to consider for. The weather had to improve a little bit as well. Damien's beast form had fur, but it was more suited for warmer climates. He still would have issues with the cold even as an animal. Now that spring was more obvious Damien found himself going on a camping trip with the Russels in the Adirondacks. It was his first time going camping and he wasn't sure if he should be excited or worried about it. Rahne still made him a little uncomfortable when she was a wolf if he was human form. Her husband was an unknown for him. So Damien had been quiet on the trip up. Normally he would have no issue blabbing off anything and everything that crossed his mind. There was no filter for his mouth. But not knowing what Mr. Russel was like did help to keep his mouth shut. Or it could be that part of him that was an animal recognized that same element in the older man and viewed him as the alpha. Titian and the other family dogs had sensed the beast in Damien and had reacted violently to him because of it. The shrimp had no intention of picking a fight with Mr. Russel, but he wasn't so sure that it was the same the other way around. As it was Damien was trying to keep a little bit of space between him and Mr. Russel. Grunting Damien pulled at his pack's straps. Ruling out the youngest Russel, Damien was the smallest, and as such he had the lightest pack to carry. A small growl escaped the teen as he hefted the bag off the ground, swinging it onto his back. The momentum did cause him to shuffle a little bit to regain his balance. Other than the growl of frustration initially, there was no complaint about the weight. He did however have something to say about where they were though. "This ain't Machu Picchu that's for sure. Colder and smells like a car freshener." |
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| Wolfsbane | Apr 6 2015, 04:39 AM Post #2 |
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Wolf Form
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The weekend had been all cleared, responsibilities relegated to the young ladies who worked for her, calls sent out to Moira to let her know where they'd be and not to worry if they couldn't get a call out since cell reception was likely terrible, et cetera. Rahne had been looking forward to this. some time out, some time in the open air, where the trees were green, the sky was blue and there was nary a car to be seen, or car exhaust to be smelled, for that matter. This was where the animal side of her could truly be at peace. It felt much like that trip to Newfoundland she and Jack took after the Skrull incident had cleared up, when they'd both had time to settle back into being themselves again after being corrupted and transformed into monstrous alien insects. Except there was no need for vacation therapy this time. This time, life was good, and a trip like this could be for many different purposes. It could be to introduce a young child to the kind of environment people like them thrived in. It could be to spend some time as a family apart from others and strengthen bonds. And it could be to help a young pupil learning to adjust to his own lycathropesque abilities and grow as a person. And so far, Rahne felt she and Damien had made good progress. He'd grown more comfortable in his own skin and more well-adjusted to shifting. Now she wanted to bring her husband into this so Damien could have the benefit of working with a man, an adult male figure with similar experiences. She hadn't anticipated that Damien would be so thoroughly and plainly intimidated by Jack. She had come to know Jack as a mild-mannered and non-threatening personality that it sometimes surprised her when people found him unnerving or frightening. Rahne glanced back to Damien as he complained about the cold, sparing a moment to look at Greg in the wagon she had set him in along with some of their supplies so she could have her back free to carry a pack full of bare essentials - some clothing, medical supplies, diaper goods. Thankfully, the baby was busy looking about in wonder at the tall trees, listening to the sounds, and taking in new information to bother fighting against his restraints. "Car freshener? Psh, Damien, these are real pines. Car fresheners have nothin' on th' real deal. An' if it's too cold, we could always work on yuir fur coat. Good place for it," she still believed that Damien could access a transitional form. It made sense to her - he could change all the way into his primitive form, it stood to reason that with enough practice, he could manage a middle ground. Something he could have the strength of his beastly self and the dexterity and conversational capacity of his human self. It had to be there. She took a deep breath in through her nose, and smiled. "Och, smell that fresh air. Even back at th' school, it's nae quite this clean. We're almost at the selected site. Far enough away from other potential campers that we'd nae have t' worry about pryin' eyes." |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Werewolf | Apr 20 2015, 03:06 AM Post #3 |
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Unregistered
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Jack would never in his days speak an ill word against those that had taken him in as a volatile and disturbed young man, but being so far from them and the rest of civilization made him ponder still if that lifestyle was a cage. He didn't really believe that to be true, but damned if he ever felt more free than when he tasted mountain air. Bringing up the rear of the group at his own behest, Jack felt the responsibilities of his everyday life roll off his back with every step. Protecting his wife and child were instinctual to him, but making lesson plans and attending weekly staff meetings were not. The zig-zag of bristled pine trees and the endless sky made him forget those trivial things. He was grateful to completely get away for a while, even if the purpose of this camping trip was not entirely recreational. Damien, a young shapeshifting student, needed some special training with the assistance of the mountains' atmosphere. As far as Jack could tell, Damien didn't seem exactly as comfortable out in the wilderness as he remarked on the smells and the weather. Like Jack, Rahne similarly was pleased with just about everything about the mountains, and she was certainly right about one thing--they were completely alone out here; there was no reason to hide. Comforted by that knowledge, the feral man slowed his pace and stopped to unlace the hiking boots that he didn't even need and kicked them off with a quiet sigh of relief and putting them in his own pack. Although they served some purpose--normalcy--they would have been shredded during his change from man to lycanthrope. Jack's spine slowly clicked out of place as he gave the straps on his backpack some slack. Normally his transformation took only moments, but given the apprehension the shapeshifter could smell on Damien, Jack didn't want to scare him. His barely discernible footprints became deeper until they fleshed out into his padded toes, and when his spine realigned again the feral man 'hmm'ed with contentment and shrugged the tension out of his shoulders. "With a face like this... those prying eyes wouldn't pry for long," Jack rumbled, twitching his black lips into as friendly a smile as he could muster towards Damien. His pack feeling markedly lighter while in his wolfen body, and his heart feeling likewise, Jack stooped with a chuff and reached for his son, picking him up to put him on his shoulders. Greg squealed with delight, immediately reaching for the tufts of brown fur around Jack's long ears and wrapping his tiny fingers into them, curiously peering around at his new perspective and his gold eyes wide with wonder. "We should um.. do this more often, yeah?" Jack remarked casually, keeping to himself just how much he meant it, but Rahne knew as well as he did that Greg would not be so small forever. It would be a good opportunity to teach their charge for the weekend as well as their son about all that nature had to offer. |
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| Chomper | Apr 28 2015, 06:38 AM Post #4 |
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Beast Form
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The true wilds smelled different from the woods at the school, and the smell of the pine was more powerful than a little car freshener could offer, Damien had to grant Rahne that. And his fur coat might help with the cold or it might not. The teen had not really gotten the chance to take his beastly shape for a test run in the cold weather so he didn't know well it would handle with this sort of temperature. It had worked just fine when they were in the Danger Room, but that was a warmer set of mountains. Damien rolled his eyes when Rahne suggested he work on his fur coat. She was insistent that he be able to find a balance between his beastly form and his human one, the same sort of balance that she reached easily. And he had tried, really, so hard to get that balance point, but so far it was all or nothing. His teacher felt that Damien could get to a transitional state, but the youth himself doubted it highly. "Then I'd shift right back to a shrimp and want to eat everything in that wagon," Damien said, "Probably not the kid though. I don't think I would." Damien frowned at the thought, remembering exactly what he did with the first person that he had run into upon his first change into the beast form. The bite that happened to Lance's arm was something fierce, but that had been something he had done out of instinct. Little Greg was less of a threat to Damien than Lance was when he had been bitten, but Damien still wasn't about to shift. For one thing he didn't feel the itching sensation that always came with the change in form. And Mr. Russel was kinda creeping him out. Not because of being a mutant. It would be stupid for Damien to hate against someone who did something so incredibly close to what he could do. What was making him tense was the beastly features the man now had. Life experiences with canines always ended poorly for the teen. The black lips and furry features seemed to bode being a new creature's chew toy. Even with Rahne, someone that Damien was feeling more and more comfortable around, the halfway point still intimidated him. And here he was saying that he might try to eat the man's kid. The timing of it was bad on Damien's part, happening right before Mr. Russel picked Greg up out of the wagon and put him on his back. The teen winced, and tried to remember once again to think about what he said before he said it. There was also a twinge of somthing else in him, a feeling of nostalgia that he couldn't ignore. Once upon a time, before Isa had been born, Damien had ridden on his father's shoulders just like Greg was now. His mom always fused about it, convinced that Damien would slip off and crack his skull. It didn't help that Damien's father would comment that the kid weighed so little he didn't even notice that Damien was there. Size wise Damien was past that now, small as he was, but that wasn't the regret that he felt. His dad probably wouldn't want to be giving a ride to any mutant, even one that was a part of his family. |
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| Wolfsbane | Apr 28 2015, 03:57 PM Post #5 |
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Wolf Form
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"Maybe," Rahne remarked to her husband as he initiated his shift. As always, it was a breathtaking thing to see. To some, he became a hulking monstrosity, a massive bloodthirsty beast. To her, he became a creature of almost majestic wonder. A warrior of a lost time, tall and proud and nearly invincible. The man he had become, the people they had become since they started this journey together - she was immensely proud of that. "But definitely nae my pryin' eyes." If she was terribly concerned about Damien being uncomfortable with her flirting with her own husband, she didn't show it. She did, however, notice that Damien's nervousness jumped as Jack shifted. She could smell it, she could hear it in his slightly accelerating heart rate. "Oh, I'd nae worry about you eatin' the wee stinker," she laughed, watching as Jack swooped the baby up to a heightened vantage point, one which Greg particularly enjoyed. At this point, it was hard to tell if he was a mama's boy or a daddy's little man. Probably a bit of both, overall. There were times he gave one trouble over the other, there were times he preferred one over the other. "He's a fighter, and a runner. Last week - last week, he made a break for it during a diaper change," Rahne said with a shake of her head. "Evaded me for a good five minutes as he ran around the grounds flyin' free if'n ye catch muh drift." She left out, of course, that the reason he had managed to break free as effectively as he had was that he had managed to get a good solid kick in on mommy that drew a little bit of blood from her forearm. He surely hadn't meant to cut her, but it happened anyway. "'Sides, we packed surplus on the foodstuffs specifically f'r you. We do plan on workin' you a wee bit, after all," she said with a wink. "Oh, I'd love t' do this more often. Once a month, say? Just hop out f'r one weekend, maybe even pick a different locale each time? Or maybe even get back t' Muir someday? I've started to feel a bit guilty that we've yet to let mo- er, Meghan meet Greg in person." She had been in contact with the woman, her biological mother, since that Christmas a year and change ago when everything changed, but she still struggled with recognizing her as family. She felt bad about that, truly bad. She knew there had to be some effort made, but she was still hesitant to make it. |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Werewolf | May 27 2015, 12:40 AM Post #6 |
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Unregistered
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As a man fast approaching his 30’s, Jack should have made his peace with his beastial appearance long ago, but the taste of fear on his palate when he didn’t expect it always struck him as much as the first time. Rahne’s not so subtle flirting, however, made it sting less. From there the conversation quickly turned to the Russell’s favorite subject—Greg. More often than not any present company would get at least one story about their fiesty shapeshifting son and his tendancies of being an escape artist. As much trouble as it was to dress a toddler that could literally climb the walls, Jack could not help but feel pride; their child was naturally gifted. Despite being aware that Greg would always be able to take care of himself, there was one subject that made Jack nervous... “Meghan? Really? Are you sure that’s uh…,” the feral man trailed as he remembered who they were in company with, recalling that at least one of them could repeat what he heard. “…I mean no uhm.. that’s a great idea. Yeah. Sure. Totally." And I will not let you out of my sight. Jack thought, reaching up to reassuringly touch Greg’s feet kicking on his shoulders and tickling him between his tiny footpads. Given that Meghan was Rahne’s biological mother, the feral man should trust her more than he did, but her track record with children concerned him. He had always given consideration to the idea that all transgressions could be forgiven, and yet having a child of his own had begun to change him and all of his previous ideals. Knowing his wife and that she had surely noticed his hesitation and recovery on the subject of their son’s grandmother, Jack did the appropriate thing and changed the subject. “So, um.. Damien.. Rahne’s told me a little about you and what you can do, but what is it you want us to teach you? Between Rahne and me we have almost half a lifetime of experience.” Jack blinked rapidly as he thought of the implications of what he’d just uttered. “Er… not that my wife is old or anything—older than you, yes—but uh.. she… just has more experience.” As if by divine intervention, Greg craned over Jack’s forehead and sprawled over his muzzle as he reached for his father's whiskers that wiggled when he stuttered. “Got it, Greg,” Jack rumbled as he hooked a talon into the collar of his babbling son’s shirt to pull him upright,”Daddy’s shutting up now." |
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| Chomper | May 28 2015, 02:21 AM Post #7 |
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Beast Form
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As was to be expected once the chaperones started to flirt with each other Damien's eyes suddenly became very interested in checking behind his eyelids. Public displays of affection were only alright if you were one part of it, and Damien was at a low risk of that happening with him. His confidence with the fairer sex depended entirely upon how many of his friends were around him at the time, and when it was at his highest he usually descended into trying to do some sort of stupid stunt to show off. It didn't matter to Damien if it was his parents, his teacher, or even a fellow student. Witnessing someone else flirt was always embarrassing to bear witness to. Briefly Damien wondered if the two were going to be like this the entire trip. Which wasn't fair of him really since this was clearly a family trip that he just happened to be a part of. If Mr. Russel and Rahne wanted to be love birds just because they were in the woods then it shouldn't matter to him. "Are you sure it's enough food?" Damien asked as he looked at the wagon now that it had been freed from its passenger. His teacher had had first hand exposure to just how much Damien could pack away. Of course she would know just how hungry he would get after seeing the dent he made on her fridge that first lesson. Additionally the school was well aware of just how many calories Damien's mutation demanded for his daily diet. The exact number was unknown to Damien, but he had a clue of just how insane it was after eating as if he still shifted when his powers had been swapped. At that point he had gotten so use to the sheer size of a typical meal that he didn't think his body wouldn't require that extra fuel if he wasn't changing his form back and forth. The extra weight he had gained near his birthday was probably due, in part at least, to that. So though Damien had no reason to doubt that there would be plenty to eat, his stomach wanted to confirm it. It was easier to talk to Rahne than it was to talk to Mr. Russel. She had been gentle with Damien when he needed it without making him feel as if he was being coddled. When she challenged him to do something it was because she thought that he was capable of doing so. When Damien failed Rahne didn't treat him like he was a failure himself, and was just as optimistic that he would get it right the next time. Not only that but she had encouraged him when he succeeded. Damien had been in focus for the first time because of something he alone could do. Damien understood what Rahne expected of him, and she knew at least as much as him about what he could and couldn't do. Was it going to be the same with her husband? Hell, Damien didn't even know how he was suppose to be addressing the man. "Didja bring a shovel to dig that hole deeper?" Damien muttered under his breath as Mr. Russel started stumbling over the implication that his wife was old. It was one of those moments when Damien didn't think about what he was saying, or even if anyone would be able to hear him. Just because he didn't have that additional boost to his hearing didn't mean that his teacher and her husband were in the same boat. The man most likely heard it, being kind of wolf like already. Still the opportunity had been too perfect to ignore. Chaperons had to maintain some sense of control and putting your foot in your mouth makes it hard to look all that authoritative. Catching an adult, especially one that was suppose to be teaching you, making a fool out of themselves was a rare enough thing that it had to be seized. Mr. Russel might not have realized how his fumbling was a good thing. It served as an icebreaker because it was such a human moment. No animal double backed on itself like that. And it was the animal aspect that Damien had issues with. He hated dogs. They tended to bite him, they got slobber all over the place, and smelled terrible. To Damien a wolf was nothing more than just a wild dog, more unpredictable than a domesticated one. At least this wild dog had a human mind for the time being. And the human mind was clear with how Mr. Russel knew he was stepping into dangerous territory. Some of the tension that Damien carried had slipped away. Not enough that Damien was about to ask the guy if he'd be the next one to get a shoulder ride, but enough to at least answer Mr. Russel's question. Well at least while looking ahead, not necessarily at the man. "Rahne thinks I can get to a halfway point. And I kinda suck at hunting. And smelling things... And seeing things..." |
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| Wolfsbane | May 28 2015, 03:51 PM Post #8 |
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Wolf Form
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"Honestly, Jack?" Rahne asked in regards to her husband's hesitance in regards to her biological mother, "I've nae the foggiest clue if it's a good idea. I hope it is." She looked up to their baby son sitting on dad's shoulders, playing with dad's face - a happy, healthy young boy who wanted for nothing. He had so much that his parents didn't when they were younger. So much that each of them lacked in their own way, but Rahne wondered sometimes if it was enough. If what they were giving him was everything he needed. "I still struggle with it. With her. I want a relationship, I want... I want a good, normal relationship - if only so he can have access to his grand mum," she sighed, shaking her head slowly. "But try as I might, I still resent her. A little. It's always in the back of muh head when we talk, when I tell her of what we do, of what he does, of all of it - that she abandoned me. I feel very selfish for that resentment, but I haven't made it go entirely away yet." Jack spoke to Damien, and it was something else. Jack, as usual, was in a way a gentle giant. A massive beast of a man who spoke softly and tried his hardest to be non-threatening. It was one of the many things she loved about him. He was considerate, more so than her (she sometimes let her stronger will trample over people without realizing it), cautious and calculated. She could be confident that no harm would come to anybody from Jack unless they deserved it. "Heh," Rahne chuckled, the exchange between the two amusing her, "I'd like t' think I've got more 'n enough youth left in me. Hell - ye're likely t' go grey long 'fore I do." But joking aside, Damien was absolutely right about her assessment of him. She did believe in him, she did believe his potential was more than where he was at at this point in time. "I do believe that," Rahne said with a of her head. "Transforming is tough work. Takes practice an' experimentation. Which I think we can do out here. 'Specially if we run low on food. Ye've nae tried Jack's open fire-roasted rabbit yet. He's got that one down to a beautiful art form," |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Werewolf | Jul 2 2015, 02:28 AM Post #9 |
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Unregistered
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“Well, love… it’s up to you. You know that. Both of my parents are gone, and Phil… hmph—he knows to stay far away.” Jack furrowed his brow as the very formation of his stepfather’s name was like poison in his mouth, but his face softened as he sympathetically looked at Damien; he was just a kid and had far fewer things to worry over, and these problems didn’t concern him. If he could help it, Jack would use all of his power to ensure the students in his charge would have more of a childhood than he did. And despite his wife’s misgivings and his own, they both wanted their child to have a relationship with any family blood family either of them had left. But Jack could then feel heat slightly rise in his cheeks beneath his fur as his wife began to rave about his cooking. There was little doubt that he had plenty of practice in the culinary arts due to his dietary needs, and it had the lucky effect of making him quite adept at making a meal. He wanted to soften the grandness of his wife’s assessment of his cooked hare, but she liked to sing his praises, and he would certainly not stop that. Instead, he focused on the fact that they had just about arrived at their destination. “Camp site’s just through those trees—watch your step,” the shapeshifter announced to the small group, running the tips of his talons underneath the straps of his knapsack in anticipation as he began to ruminate over a list of things that needed to be done before Damien’s lesson for the day. “Nyaaaaaaa!” Greg whined, growing restless from his perch on his father’s shoulders and squirming to get down. Pullling his wiggling child down into his arms, the Jack bounced Greg a few times hoping to quiet him. He nodded to Damien reassuringly while trying to keep his whiskers out of his son’s reach,”You’ll get better with time, Damien. You’re starting younger than I did, so hm.. you’ve got a headstart, yeah?" |
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| Chomper | Jul 7 2015, 12:46 AM Post #10 |
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Beast Form
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At first the chattering back and forth about family issues was an easy to ignore buzz, not too dissimilar to the whine of a mosquito, then Damien was thankful for it. He had not thought about how they were going to cook their meals much. His best assumption was one of those little cans that held a flame that you saw at catered events. That much fire he could deal with and not panic, but that was not the sort of heating element was planned for this trip. It wasn't as though Damien had been expecting them to use a stove or microwave. Damien might not be use to camping but he wasn't that dumb. Icy dread spread throughout Damien's body as he realized just how his meals were going to be cooked. With the lovebirds caught up in deciding how to handle this family situation Damien could shudder at the thought of the upcoming fire. Being afraid of something wasn't that big a deal, everyone had fears of some sort. How Damien approached his fear was the humiliating thing. Everyone had always said that he was fearless, but Damien's family knew how he totally froze up at the sight of fire bigger than a few candles worth. It was so bad that in France he had to stay inside, curled up with the tv blaring, while the rest of his family enjoyed bonfires outside. Most fears that people suffered from had some sort of explanation for why you should be scared of it. Fire wasn't a strange thing to be afraid of, it was after all something that could kill you, but Damien had no reason to have such an intense phobia. He hadn't burnt himself on the stove's burner, his house had never burned down. Even the preschool trip to the fire house hadn't been burnt to ashes. Both Rahne and Mr. Russel now seemed to be sure that Damien was able of getting to a halfway point, or at the very least that he was going to improve. Looking at Mr. Russel Damien would have never guessed that the wolfish man had been older when he started working with his mutation. Did that mean that his powers came later in life than Damien's did? It gave him pause and he found himself staring at the puppy child that had been riding on daddy's shoulders. If starting young was the secret to getting to be good at being a beast then little Greg was going to surpass them all. Damien shrugged his shoulders at Mr. Russel's suggestion that he would get better with time. To him it was just a typical parenting thing to say, like "you'll grow into it" whenever given oversized clothes. "I guess. We've figured out that I'm not a canine like you and I'm not a feline. I'm like a dinosaur, but hairy." Backpack was slung off his shoulders, once more causing Damien's body to move with the momentum. Immediately he began rummaging through it, searching for a snack that he had packed earlier in his bag. A package of Oberto's beef jerky was extracted and torn open with the sort of ferocity you'd expect from a pack of ravenous wolves, or just a normal teen boy. At first Damien just sucked on it, trying to get the seasoned taste off the meat. It was the original recipe, other flavors being too spicy for him. Once the meat was sufficiently peppered free it went into the side of his mouth. Damien it would seem had cheek pouches like a hamster when beef jerky was involved. The teen nodded towards Greg. Jerky was usually avoided with small children, but the kid was more wolfish than Damien was. "Kahn 'e alf?" he asked Rahne. |
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| Wolfsbane | Jul 7 2015, 03:19 AM Post #11 |
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Wolf Form
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"If we ever see yuir uncle again, I may just kill 'im muhself," Rahne growled, no hint of the playfulness that she usually tried to display, the good humor, the upbeat mood. Jack's uncle was a sore spot for all of them now, to varying degrees. Jack had a lifetime to build his animosity, but Rahne had a personal and intense experience some time back, an experience that left her brutalized and victimized, and if there was one thing that Rahne hated above all else, it was being made into a victim. "Och, this is perfect," Rahne exclaimed as they came upon the campsite, the sight and smell of it all washing away the brief bout with ill-temper. It was exactly what they hoped it would be, and exactly what they needed. Secluded, clean and pure. No cigarette butts, no garbage left behind from previous campers, no competing angry wildlife looking to fend off invaders. Reasonably comfortable that they were secluded, Rahne let her shift take place with a relieved sigh, not unlike the kind of sigh let loose when one takes off their shoes after a long work day or unbuttons their pants after a very heavy meal. It always felt good to let the wolf out, especially after an extended period of time. There were times she felt like the human version of herself was a disguise, a ruse put on for polite society, much like Meghann had told her it was. This was one of those times. "Whatever it is your are, Damien, it's uniquely you. Which is nae so terribly different. There are... well... sizable differences 'tween Jack an' muhself. He has no full-wolf form either. I do. Similar, but different. An' ye know, mebbe I'm wrong. Mebbe I'm not. Either way, we will learn, together. I know I f'r one am excited to see what we learn." At Damien's question, Rahne looked over to hers and Jack's boy, tiny inside his father's massive pawlike hands but unafraid, unbothered as he boldly reached for his dad's whiskers but couldn't quite get a grab on them. "He's got no control over it. Sometimes it goes an' he's humanoid. Sometimes when he's humanoid, he gets startled and shifts. Someday we'll get him learnin' that. After potty training. Hoo boy, I look forward t' when he's old enough t' potty train." |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Werewolf | Jul 24 2015, 02:51 AM Post #12 |
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Unregistered
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Upon their arrival at the camp site, a quiet calm settled across the group as they set about preparing the area. Jack was fairly comfortable roughing it in the wilderness with essentially nothing for weeks at a time, but given the addition of his wife, a toddler, and a student, there was a bit more set up involved. While the feral man chuffed to get a bearing on their location and the whereabouts of some firewood kindling, Rahne and Damien had far more immediate concerns such as taking on a true form and a snack--respectively. Jack gave a rumbling chuckle at Damien's muffled question and his wife's reply, although her explanation of the differences between the members of the Russell couple was spot on. "I think he's asking if Greg can have jerky, Rae," he amended gently, although he had no readymade answer for the inquiry. Despite his young age, the feral child had a mouth full of sharp teeth, and he was quick to use them when he couldn't get his hands on what he desired. The very thought reminded Jack that when his son was old enough to understand he would have no choice but to sit him down and remind him of his physical prowess. But for now, allowing Greg to gnaw on some dried meat seemed an appropriate lesson of what he should be biting. "What do you think?" Jack asked Rahne, tilting Greg up in his arms and using one finger to lift up the child's lip and peer at his tiny white milk teeth before shuffling Greg between one arm to another as Jack unshouldered his bag to set it down. The toddler shapeshifter proceeded to wriggle free and climb expertly down his father's arm before Jack could so much as bat an eye. Cackling with a barking laugh, Greg started to bound for freedom and tried to skirt past his mother's ankles. |
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| Chomper | Jul 28 2015, 10:41 PM Post #13 |
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Beast Form
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Nobody questioned Damien about the rabbit, or about the fire. For now his secret was safe but there was going to be a fire at some point that night. Damien was just going to have to figure out a reason to not be around it. Damien might play video games like crazy but his imagination was not dead. He could be resourceful when the need arose and escaping the dangers of a campfire certainly was need to be resourceful. In the meantime he had beef jerky and there was a little miscommunication about said jerky. Rahne might be a mother, but her skills at understanding mouth full of food talk still needed some improvement. Her husband had gotten what Damien was saying perfectly fine and explained it to Rahne. Greg didn't seem to care which interpretation was the correct one, nor if he was going to get to have any jerky. Freedom was on the young child's mind and he was making a break for it. Damien was quick, having gotten use to slipping in underneath people's arms to get to food, and went after Greg. He grabbed onto the kid with on hand, the package of jerky in the other. The mouthful of chewed up meat was swallowed. It had been close to a year since Damien had to take care of any little kids. His parents had could have stopped at two kids, but there were five of them. By now Lance and Suzanne could probably change a diaper one handed with their eyes shut, and Damien had gotten pretty good at managing to feed even the most disgusting baby food without the kitchen getting a colorful paint job. His talents with watching after little kids included turning them upside down, which Damien now did to Greg, holding the furry toddler so that his head would be only inches off the ground. He wasn't sure if Rahne or Mr. Russell would be ok with him just rushing to catch their kid, let alone hold them upside down. Once he got yelled at by a mom in a store for handing a kid a toy they had dropped. You could never tell with parents how they would react. "Hang on, no running off without Mommy or Daddy," Damien said lowering Greg gently to give the kid a soft head bump and raising him back up again, "You could get hurt." Being lost could have been a problem for any other toddler if they had gone wandering off in the woods. Greg had his parents, both of which knew his scent and could track. Damien in theory should be able to do it too. In short the one to worry about getting lost was the shrimp who already had lost track of what direction they had come to the campsite from. The teen couldn't keep his way in a city on a grid that he grew up in, there was no hope for him out here in the woods. So for Greg the bigger concern would be him falling down or twisting something as he ran. Damien had been looking forwards to this camping trip and it would end abruptly if Greg had to get patched up. Greg was turned right side up and put back down on the ground. Damien held on tightly to the jerky, hoping that the smell of it would keep the child's focus. Keeping kids occupied meant keeping one step ahead of them in terms of distractions. Getting distracted was something that Damien knew how to do very well. It was part of the reason why he had problems in school. The world outside the classroom always was more appealing to him than learning about the Carpathian empire. "So can he have some?" Damien asked of Rahne. |
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| Wolfsbane | Jul 29 2015, 02:03 PM Post #14 |
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Wolf Form
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"Oh, have," Rahne laughed slightly, feeling a bit silly. "I thought ye said 'half'. That makes so much more sense than wha- Greg!" He could have bolted right then and there. Playful toddler with a sense for adventure and very little sense for personal danger and consequences. Rahne dropped the pack on her back, moving to intercept the little rascal, but fortunately, she wasn't the only one fast enough to catch him. Greg laughed and squealed in Damien's grip, the thrill of upside-downishness making it almost seem as if this was his plan all along, as if it was his idea to get caught and dangled like this. "Thank you," she said with a sigh of relief. "Clearly, we'll have to establish a fairly clear range of play if he's gonna insist on runnin'off like this." Damien managed to keep Greg's attention with the jerky, and he stood there in that slightly unsteady way children his age tended to stand, eyes and nose fixed on the prize. "Aye, sure, jus' keep an eye on yuir stash or he might raid it," Rahne said with a shrug of her shoulders, before letting loose a small smirk. Something Greg and Damien had in common, for sure. A propensity for getting into more meat stuffs than perhaps they should. As Damien kept Greg occupied, Rahne opted to get back to what Jack was trying to do before their son distracted them all. She knew him well enough by now to know when he was trying to figure out what was around him and how to find what they needed. "What're we lookin' for? Prey? Water? Wood?" |
![]() [size0]Say the dog and butterfly, in the air they like to fly. Dog and butterfly. She knew she had to try, and she float back down to the warm soft ground, laughing - she don't know why, but she had to try, she had to try. Dog and Buttefly. Avatar by Natalie, signature by Olga. My graphics set is complete again! Thank you so much! | |
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| Werewolf | Sep 3 2015, 02:51 AM Post #15 |
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Unregistered
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Before Jack could so much as shout after his escape artist of a son, Damien immediately proved the potential for his prowess in dexterity as he seized the fleeing Greg by a furry hind foot. Both parents visibly relaxed with relief as their son was quickly caught and had his attention held by a handful of jerky, leaving them to gather back their ideas on where to start as far as setting up camp. Rahne’s attention turned back to her husband, who undoubtedly looked very lost in thought as she asked him about their next move. “Huh? Oh.. yeah. Firewood.. that’s a good start,” Jack murmured distantly, his glowing crimson eyes fixed on their feral ward who was holding Greg’s focus with the tempting promise of a snack. Once the cogs in his head had stopped turning, Jack shot Rahne a discreet look, knowing she would discern it as one that said ‘just trust me’. It had taken a few years, but their communication had developed to expression that was more often than not beyond words. “Damien?” Jack cleared his throat to get the young boy’s attention. ”How would you like to start your training now? Rahne and I will get camp settled here, and all you need to do is keep up and keep an eye on Greg. You already know he’s fast but uhm… I think you can keep up.” Jack gently bumped his hip against Rahne’s waist and nodded towards a particularly thick patch of underbrush that was assuredly guarding wonderfully dry tinder for a fire. “I won’t go far..,” he rumbled, letting ‘just in case’ go unsaid. As he loped towards the underbrush Jack turned back to Damien, one taloned finger extended. "Actually... you might um.. want to keep both eyes on him and not just one. You'll probably need all of that jerky too." |
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8:51 AM Jul 11