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Post by Aria ! on May 11, 2010 21:37:23 GMT -5
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The cat's golden paws moved silently with ease down a small dirt road. There wasn't much to see, a field of golden beyond a large lake, a lingering sun beating down upon the already scorching hot lands. Trees speckled here and there near the lake. A small house pretty far off. The city in the distance. It was... calm. Not something many would find in Shelpey. If it wasn't one thing, it was another and everything always led to something else and in the end it was just drama. This cat couldn't take anymore, so escape he did; for today only.
A lucky day off, and a beautiful day to spend it on. What better way to do it then strolling around in your medium spotted cat form? The sun felt so good on your back as a cat. You just wanted to bask in it for hours, no threat of sunburn as a cat.
The medium feline strolled over to the lake, that had been becoming nearer and nearer with every step he took, and stuck two paws in it, bent down and began lapping up the cool liquid. Fish darted to and fro from his feet and the ripples he sent splashing over the water. He didn't care much for the fish, though he didn't plan on hiking back to his home in the city on an empty stomach. No, fishing would come later. Once it was night and he felt more active and alive in his feral form.
For the time being, the shifter found a good, shaded spot under a tree, plopped down and shifted back to his human form. He crossed his arms behind his head and relaxed his position, allowing his hair to blow wherever it wanted in the gentle breeze that scuttled by.
A soft shuffling in the grasses caught his attention, but he only perked his human ears a bit, which he could do for some unknown reason, and listened and smelled. The scent he caught was that of a cat, and so he relaxed his somewhat rigid position again. The cat slunk out of the bushes, tired and obviously sleepy, and sat on his stomach. It curled up, and was completely comfortable just sleeping there. Of course, he was fine with that, too. One cat didn't mind resting with another cat, that was for sure. Especially not Mitchel. He liked just about all cats, and this one was no exception.
The cat did stick out a bit though, since he had blue jeans, and a black Jersey tank top on, while the cat was solid whit with the exception of an orange patch around it's left eye. Again he didn't care, if he had, he wouldn't have worn clothes at all. He didn't see much point in them in the first place, since he didn't need them in his Feline form. But he wore them all the same, such was society.
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Post by max on May 12, 2010 10:00:49 GMT -5
A holiday. A nice, long, relaxing holiday – that was just what Max needed. The part-time canine, part-time college student leaned back in his computer chair, swung around once, then ran both hands through his unruly hair. “Stuff this,” he muttered. He shut the computer down, tossing the assignment sheet he had been working on into a pile of things he had yet to complete. Tapping a pen on the top of a particularly thick book on social welfare ethics, Max stared idly out of the window of his apartment. It was sunny out. A nice day to be doing something other than assignments. “Man, I’m too young to be stuck at a computer inside,” he complained to himself. “It’s not natural.”
Presently, Max made up his mind. He exited the apartment, taking with him two essential things: a dark red dog collar and a bagel. He shoved the collar into the pocket of his pants, then began eating the bagel on the way down to the bottom floor. A lack of concentration on anything other than his lunch nearly caused an accident near the elevator; Max, in a rather good mood and enjoying his bagel, almost walked straight into the old lady from apartment number forty. He spotted her just in time, jumping to the side with all the teenage grace owed to only eighteen years’ existence. “Woah, sorry ma’am,” Max gulped. The old lady leered at him from beneath a pair of huge sunglasses with pink rims. “You young brat!” she spat. Max winced at the sight of spit literally spraying from her gummy mouth. “Stand up straight! You kids slouch these days! Get a haircut, will ya?!” “Excuse me for breathing,” Max said before he could stop himself. He darted towards the elevator quickly to avoid being clipped about the ears with the woman’s sturdy cane, and stood right in the back corner until the doors were firmly closed. “Man, maybe I should’ve stayed home and done my assignment...no wait, what am I saying?”
About fifteen minutes later, Max reached the edge of the city. It was mostly suburban here and hence much easier to do what he was about to do without being seen. He slipped into a patch of bushes in a park, slipping the dog collar around his neck and buckling it. After looking around to make sure no one was watching, the bored teenager began to do what he was born to do: shift into a dog. Well. Not just a dog. A wolf-dog. Half and half. But no bigger than a male German Shepherd, and even then a little undersized. Max, now fully canine, shook his fur coat, feeling all the different muscles and wagging his tail. He looked for all the world like a black German shepherd, except for a few features which marked him as a wolf hybrid. A trained eye might pick the slimness of his muzzle, the strength of his jaws, and the sleekness in his body; his paws were too large, his face not square enough to be simply a dog’s. His tail, however, was too long for either a wolf or a shepherd; it made him look a bit disproportionate, for it seemed as though his body hadn’t quite grown big enough to fit the long bushy tail. Not that Max complained; he rather liked having a tail. Most humans would see his collar and assume he was someone’s missing pet. Such assumptions kept him safe.
The wolf dog spent a little bit of time merely running. Max lived a very human life; he went to college, he called his parents, he shyly tried to talk to the girl he liked down the road, and he had tantrums when his printer broke. So, he didn’t really do much else in animal form. He simply explored, and ran. Canines could run for miles; their stamina was thrilling, and the adrenaline rush Max got from the exercise raised his happiness levels. Nothing like a dose of endorphins before exam time. He didn’t spend time killing other animals. Max had little interest in such things. There was a part of him that hungered when he saw a prey animal, but he didn’t often follow up on these desires.
Max’s running took him to the edge of the lake outside Shelpey Alley. He sniffed the ground as he slowed to a walk and an occasional lope, his ears perking up every time he heard a sound. Cat! Looking up, Max barked gruffly. He liked cats. He didn’t want to chase the animal, like a normal canine might. He sat down, letting the hissing animal pass by. Its tail was puffed, its eyes fixed on his own. Once the cat had gone, Max followed it at a much slower pace. He wanted to walk alongside the river, perhaps find some shade; it was warm, too warm. His black coat absorbed the sun’s heat, making him pant. Then he saw it. What...the hell...is that? Max thought, squinting. He didn’t have great eyesight in this form, but his nose told him it was another cat. He drew a little closer, ignoring the smaller cat which had passed by and was now in the bigger cat’s presence. Max’s memory caught on. It was a serval, a wild African cat. What was it doing out here?
Since Max had met very few shifters in his life, and was relatively closed off from that world due to his lack of communication with others of his kind, he didn’t immediately click that it might not be a true cat. However, it didn’t take him long to make that leap, and he lay down behind the grass to observe the potential shifter. The cat wouldn’t be able to smell him from where he was due to the wind direction. Max’s heart leapt a little as he saw the cat suddenly change forms beneath a tree. In the cat’s place, a man of indeterminate age appeared. The other cat joined him quite comfortably. Undecided, Max pricked his ears up and tilted his head sideways. Should he approach? Or leave? No way. I’ve hardly met any other shifters here... The dog stood, shook himself free of dead grass and sticks, and slowly walked towards the young man and the cat. He stopped in plain view, keeping his distance and giving him a classic ‘happy dog’ look to reassure him that he was gentle by nature. [/color] Sorry for the novel! If you wanna see a picture of Max’s dog form it’s in his profile. My profile picture/avatar is Max’s human form. Nice table, by the way! I'm tired, it's late, hope I didn't miss anything.
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Post by Aria ! on May 12, 2010 14:49:12 GMT -5
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Mitchel caught the scent just as the dog came into view. Not because he'd come into view, the breeze had shifted just before he had. Mitchel opened a lazy eye to look at the dog, then sighed and sat up. The cat hissed furiously, digging it's claws into Mitchel's leg through his pants. "Ah. Ow. Jeez, calm down, you silly cat." Mitchel said with a slight chuckle, stroking the animal along it's back until it was calm and purring again. Then he looked over to the dog again.
"Huh. Weird lookin' dog. I bet you're not full-blooded, huh, puppy?" Mitchel said, extending a hand toward the dog. "I might smell a little like a cat but I'm sure as heck not afraid of any hybrid." Mitchel chuckled in a friendly tone, welcoming the animal to come over. The cat would be fine, he was sure, since Mitchel was there and he really didn't allow violence between cats and dogs- while they were around him, at least. Most cat's knew that, because Mitchel wasn't hardly as reserved and untrusting towards animals. He even knew this particular cat's name, Millie.
"It's pretty hard to tell whether you're a shifter or not there, Puppy. It is when it comes to dogs cats and snakes and crap. 'Cause of the human smell that could belong to their owner. I dunno about you either doggy, but it'd be fine if you were or weren't. I don't really discriminate." Mitchel said, patting the dog once on the head before laying back and looking at the sky again.
"I'm not usually this talkative, ya know. Not really sure why, but I guess it's just easier talking to animals than it is to people. Never really had any social skills to begin with." Mitchel chuckled, raising a hand to the sky. He squinted while starring at the sun through his hands, then attempted to grab the sunlight, to no avail. He rested his hand on his chest then looked over to the dog.
"Well puppy, what's your name? I can't just call you puppy or doggy forever, ya know. I'm Mitchel, and yes, I'll understand you if you try to talk to me as a dog, doggy." Mitchel said, giving a large yawn. The cat had moved to Mitchel's other side, opposite to the dog, and was snoozing away. Sunlight and warmth had this way of making a cat sleepy, thus adding to the thing Mitchel didn't know the cause of.
ooc:// hey, no, that's fine! ;3 and i saw both his forms, lol. Thanks, and I don't think you missed anything! xP
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Post by max on May 12, 2010 18:57:14 GMT -5
Max was pleased to find that the young man was friendly. He didn’t often approach people, especially in the city. A stray dog wandering around, collar or no collar, gained plenty of suspicion and any who recognised wolf-like features would probably back away. So Max often kept his distance. He had no wish to end up in the pound. He had often wondered what he would do confined in a cage with possible security cameras everywhere, and having to change forms before his twelve hours was up or risk being a dog forever. He wondered what was worse.
Taking a step forward, the dog paused as the cat began to hiss and puff up again. He sat back down, tilting his head in the classic German shepherd manner. It was a sign of curious amusement, and he looked on as the guy calmed the feline down. Max looked at the extended hand, listening to his words. He took a few more steps forward towards the guy, though they were hesitant; he didn’t want his nose to be scratched to pieces by the cat. How would he explain those wounds in class? He’s guessing what I am already, Max thought, suddenly nervous. He tried not to show it, though he failed; his ears went up, and his expression became alert. He let the man pet him regardless. Surely he was harmless? Max tended to trust people a little too easily sometimes, especially when he was desperate to find others like himself.
The sun was beginning to make Max pant again. He whined uncomfortably, looking at the lake and wondering whether he should leave the boy and the cat and take a swim. If he did that, he might lose this new shifter forever. Could he afford to do that? There were so few of them in Shelpey Alley as it was... Ever the indecisive one, Max lingered around for a few moments before coming up with a decision. He backed away a little, then took a deep breath and focused on his human form. The change back to human was always easiest for him, and he was standing on two feet within a few seconds. Suddenly disoriented from the quadruped to biped switch, Max stumbled slightly, then caught his balance.
“Oops, I should have lain down and shifted,” Max said ruefully, feeling like an idiot in front of this random guy and his random cat. He looked down at himself to make sure he was still wearing clothes, and was pleased to find he was. His ex girlfriend had shown him how to shift with them on to avoid public displays of indecency, something she had apparently done on a regular basis. He was wearing an olive-green shirt and jeans, nothing fancy. No shoes, of course; he couldn’t shift with those on. Other than the collar he still had on his neck, he looked for all the world like an ordinary kid. “Well I guess this answers your question,” he said, offering the other man a smile. “And you’ve got a sharp eye, there’s fifty percent wolf. Who’s the kitty then?” He indicated Millie. “It’d be kinda cliché for me to hate cats, or whatever, but I love them. I uh...” he scratched his neck, wondering if the guy thought he was a basket case already. “I saw you before. A serval, huh? That must be kind of hard to hide.” Max offered a hand, then realised he was standing too far away. He walked forward and offered it again. “I’m Max.” [/color]
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Post by Mr. Peace-and-Logic on May 12, 2010 20:29:55 GMT -5
The day, to be frank, was beautiful. The evening sun was just warm enough to heat the air to a pleasant, even temperature, but not strong enough to require the use of sunscreen. There was a cool breeze blowing the blades of golden grass to and fro, and on it there wasn't a hint of allergy-inducing pollen. Normally, Jesse would be overjoyed at the glorious weather, and wouldn't hesitate to go about making the most of the hours left, but not today. Instead, he sat cross-legged in the back of his impressive vehicle, wearing the most irritated expression to ever grace his feminine face. His chauffeur glanced anxiously at the young man by way of the rear view mirror, but said nothing to break the heavily annoyed silence.
Jesse sighed, clearly frustrated, and propped his chin up on the heel of his hand. He couldn't believe it. He simply didn't want to accept it. His parents, the ones that barely ever acknowledged his existence and left him to himself as long as he kept out of the headlines, had decreed that he had to prepare for an upcoming dinner party. It seemed that one of their business friends had actually remembered that they had had a son at some point, and invited all three of them to a party, with absolutely no excuses or refusals being accepted. As reluctant as they were to bring Jesse along, the mink shifter's parents accepted the invitation, and immediately ordered the young man to begin wearing fashions appropriate for a business dinner. Of course, that meant absolutely none of Jesse's normal clothing.
Fidgeting with the dark navy tie that hung on his neck like a noose, Jesse gazed angrily out at the passing field of saffron. If he didn't comply with their so-called 'retraining,' then he'd pay for it dearly in terms of allowance and freedoms. He'd have to submit if he wanted to leave the house before the week was up, or if he ever wanted to buy anything...well, ever. This dinner party was crucial to his parents' reputation, and God help him if he messed that up. Sighing once more, he turned his attention to the driver, giving him a small signal to stop the car. Jesse wanted to get out, and enjoy what he could of the day, formal clothes or no.
Not long after the car had been parked on a nearby stretch of road and Jesse had shifter into a mink to begin his wandering about, the affluent teen had come upon a rather strange sight. It was a man, leaning against a tree...talking to himself. Jesse was a little surprised that the lone figure hadn't heard his trundling approach, but that wasn't his main concern. The man was literally holding a conversation with himself. "I'm not usually this talkative, ya know," he mumbled, saying more that Jesse couldn't pick up from where he was standing. Was this man drunk? Crazy? Both? Slinking his way through the medium length grass, the mink tried to get a better view of the conversing man-
-and saw another man spring up out of nowhere.
Instantly, a youth that was much taller than Jesse and clad in a peculiar green stumbled forward, losing his footing in the golden blades. Jesse's little mink mouth fell open, then closed with an inaudible click as the other started speaking. There had to be a logical explanation for what just happened. Was this man a shifter? Most likely, Jesse knew that there were others like him floating about the city. Still, why would he shift in the middle of broad daylight, in front of another person?
Deciding the best way to figure out the answers to all his questions, Jesse snuck even closer, trying to listen in on the conversation whilst remaining undetected. Especially by the cat; the feline would probably snatch him up and break his neck without a moment's notice.
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Post by Aria ! on May 12, 2010 21:56:07 GMT -5
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"Ahahaha. I guess so. If you're uneasy you can sit, I really don't care so much." Mitchel chuckled. The wind blew and the tree's leaves rustled. Mitchel stayed silent as the younger man continued talking.
"Oh, huh? This cat? Her name's Millie. She tells me she really doesn't like dogs because one killed her kittens. Pretty sad, since her owner got her fixed and now she can't have any. She's cool when I'm with her, though." Mitchel told the canine shifter, not really shifting him position at all or moving in the slightest; he was comfortable and he was staying that way.
"Eh, it's not really hard to hide at all. Since I'm not stupid enough to go strolling around in the middle of the day near people, I mean. I usually sty at home or shift at night." Mitchel explained after hearing the young man mention his shift. It was actually pretty easy to hide, since it wasn't really flashy and most people just took him for a larger exotic house cat.
He took the hand when it was extended to him, shook it and gave a nod. "Mitchel, I told you before." He said, then turned his head in the direction of a rustling both he and the cat had picked up. Millie didn't eat anything but fish, so anything in the grass was safe from her. But not from Mitchel. Mitchel was interested to the point his instincts began kicking in.
He gave in, shifting and hopping into the bushes with distinct interest. He saw the small creature that had been making the noise, a Mink. Possibly a shifter, since it too had a human smell. Though it was one of those animals that could possibly be a pet, since some people did keep weird pets. Millie joined him, sniffing at the mink but staying behind Mitchel. Mitch could understand her interest, to a cat, that mink smelled damn good.
"Hey, you're a Mink, right? You a shifter? You smell like one of those rich people, like money I guess." Would Mitchel mention that the Mink smelled damn good? Hell no. Mitchel didn't say embarrassing stuff like that when he first met someone. He hoped this was a 'someone', because otherwise he'd have to hold himself back from temptation. If it was a person, there'd be no real temptation left in Mitchel after hearing it.
ooc:// D O N E. oh hey. xD i can make you a posting table Milo, btw. :3 Because i'm making some for Deejay it might take a while, but still. xD if you want one im up for it. ;3 you too, uke. x3
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Post by max on May 14, 2010 21:04:23 GMT -5
There was a slight rustle in the bushes nearby, but Max gave the patch of grass little more than a glance before turning his attentions back to the cat known as Mitchel. “That’s terrible. I’d never kill a cat, let alone kittens. Sounds like someone didn’t take control of their stupid dog,” Max said, genuinely looking as though he cared. He shook Mitchel’s hand, smiling, before shoving both hands into the pockets of his pants. He was about to say something when the rustling nearby caught the attentions of Mitchel and his cat also. Mitchel changed forms, and Millie leapt off his chest. It almost looked choreographed to Max’s artistic eye.
“That was weird,” he muttered, but he, too, changed forms, landing on all fours with more grace than he had when shifting into human form. Waving his tail excitedly, Max followed the serval. Millie, who had followed Mitchel, stiffened suddenly and spat at him, her fur making her look larger. Max backed away, trying to listen to what Mitchel was saying while making sure the smaller cat didn’t swipe those claws into his nose. He barked gruffly, sitting down and trying to look less threatening.
To Max’s relief, the cat finally settled down a little and turned around again. Max crept forward an inch, then another, stopping every time Millie turned around. He got a good look at the creatures in front of him, then; Mitchel, whose form was almost as large as Max’s but much sleeker, being a feline; and a tiny mustelid, which looked a little like a weasel. A mink. Max tilted his head curiously. Would Mitchel eat the mink, or would he continue to ask it questions? Instead of engaging in conversation, the wolf dog just watched. He had no idea how one could smell ‘rich’, but maybe it was something to do with the fact minks were often slaughtered for their beautiful fur. Max shuddered at the thought. He cast his own fur coat a glance, then returned to surveying the scene in front of him. All he could smell was an animal that had a prey scent. The wolf in him would have snapped the animal up in mere seconds, but Max the human didn’t like the idea of raw meat. It made him feel sick just to think about it, and that combated most of the instincts flying around inside.
[/color] Huge apologies for the lateness! Any idea for conflicts?
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