spam; the last journal post

[ukan]

[Getting on board was a moment of chaos. He remembers turning a corner, expecting to find fur and blood in his mouth, expecting maybe to get torn up in return, expecting maybe a bullet from above to take him down, too-

But instead he's somewhere metal, somewhere that smells of strangers and strangeness, and he's bleeding a trail but he runs for safety anyway. If there is any. If there are doors, anywhere, that he can open without changing back, because this has to be the FBI's work and so long as they think he's just a wolf, maybe they won't slit him open and poke around inside.]



[ooc: Lark is a wolf, for now. He'll have to change back sooner or later even if he doesn't want to, so feel free to tag him as human or wolf, just lemme know which.]

Comments

[ukan]

[Changing is not a fun experience. It's a lot of bones snapping and veins realigning and organs shifting. But it only lasts twenty seconds, and then there's a naked human or a furry wolf, depending on which way you're changing.

Lark looks up, with absolutely no idea what to expect. A fight? Guards?

Nope. There's a boy with a towel, and he feels almost guilty for having expected violence. He takes the towel and wraps it around his waist.]

I'm so sorry. For that.

[semifreakingnormal]

It's okay.

[His voice is higher than it was when he was just talking talking to a wolf, and his eyes are a lot wider too.]

You're, um. [Scott has to shake his head, blinking blinking few times to gather the thoughts that scattered with the bone popping.]

Does it...hurt?

[ukan]

[At first he thinks Scott means the injury, which doesn't hurt so much now that it's been treated. But he takes a gamble that it's the other thing he means.]

Doesn't it for you?

[semifreakingnormal]

I don't...[He gestures helplessly, unsure.]

I can't turn all the way. Not like that.

[ukan]

[That sounds miserable. He can't quite picture how the anatomy would work but he's seen now what being stuck halfway (or back and forth) is like.]

What's it like for you?

[semifreakingnormal]

It's, uh...

[Scott thinks for a moment, then just shrugs: he closes his eyes, bows his head. The shift is quick - his ears grow, point, slide up higher on his head. His claws grow from his fingernails. When he looks up, he has a mouth full of teeth, and sideburns. His nose has shifted into something a little more muzzle like, and his eyes are red.]

This is as far as it goes.

[ukan]

[He's suspected there were other types of wolf out there. From Europe, from Asia, while his kind originated in the far north of the Americas. He's trying hard to rally his thoughts to properly appreciate this: meeting another wolf, another kind of wolf, without it turning bloody.]

Your senses don't change? I'm a little envious. Your way seems much less painful. Easier.

[semifreakingnormal]

They're there all the time. [He shrugs, and lets the shift happen in reverse: everything recedes, and he's just a seventeen-year-old boy again. A seventeen-year-old who is about as uninterested in bloody as it gets.]

It hurt the first few times, but...[He trails off, shrugs again and jerks his uneven chin at Lark.]

Your way's probably more powerful. And useful - a real wolf can hide a little better than some...freak.

[ukan]

It comes in handy. But I've also been inspected by a vet and put in a pound. I've had friends who ended up in dog fighting rings...they couldn't turn back to people or they would have been shot. Or worse.

[But he's more interested in Scott right now.] Do you feel like a freak?

[semifreakingnormal]

[He looks appropriately perturbed by the idea - being trapped in a kennel, or a pound, unable to let himself out...that is terrifying. At least back home, the vet's on his side.

Scott scratches the back of his head, shrugging again.]

Used to. Kind of hard not to, when suddenly you've got claws instead of nails, and, and, sideburns. [He smiles a little.] I didn't know about any of it. Were you bit, or born?

[ukan]

[He offers a sympathetic nod. Although Lark had been in his twenties when he was changed, it isn't hard to imagine how it would all feel as a teenager.]

Neither, actually. [He purses his lips and decides that this story, one he has only told to packmates, is something he can share with another wolf. Even if they're more like cousin-wolves.] I was on a very self-destructive path at the time. One night I watched my best friend walk out of the bar we were at, get in his car, and drive himself straight into a pole.

At the hospital a man sat next to me and when I was told my friend had died on the table, the man stayed with me. Told me he had something to offer me. It wouldn't take the pain away but it would make me a better person if I wanted it. I figured, what have I got to lose?

Had no idea it meant turning into a wolf, of course.

[semifreakingnormal]

[Scott just listens, sympathetic and not quite horrified, but close: it's not blame he feels, just empathy. What if that had been him and Stiles? He can't imagine losing his best friend. Especially not like that.]

That's...[He just shakes his head. How do you react to that?] Did it, though? ...Make you better?

[ukan]

I think so. Yes, it did. I learned how to exist in a pack...I don't know what packs are like for you, though?

[It's one of those things that's hard to explain to someone who doesn't know.]

[semifreakingnormal]

We have them. [He's quick to nod, and a little smile tugs at his mouth.] Mine's here. Most of them, anyway. [Only one's a wolf, but, semantics.]

It's weird, right? Different. People you'd...people you'd go to any lengths for.