Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sabin nodded, a sympathetic look immediately on his face. "IT should pass by morning at the latest, maybe leaving you with a bit of a sore arm for a day or so. But it's better than the alternative, I assure you."

Sabin led Nathan back out the way they came, down the elevator, through the lobby, and back out to the jeep where he opened the door for him this time.

"It's just a few minutes to the "village" as we call it." He fished a key on a plastic keychain out of his pocket. The number '50' was painted on the plastic in bold numbers. "This is the key to your duplex. 50 as you can see. It's an upstairs unit." He got into the driver's seat and started the ignition after Nathan got in, heading out a different gate and down another dirt road.

"I'm certain that you will." Sabin grinned as he made sure Nathan had all of his things.

"There's an intercom in the room, just press 0 if you want to reach somone at the labs for anything. Otherwise, you can get in contact with any other duplex by pressing the duplex number and then the # symbol. Have a great vacation! And we'll see you in a month!"

Date: 06.01.06
Scene: Nathan Learns the Truth
Participants: Nathan and Ambrose

Ambrose had managed, for the better part of two weeks, keep his spirits remarkably high for being on the island. He had heard word floating about that there were new islanders, and even met one of them - Thom - fortunately after he had already had "The Talk."

A soccer league was in the works, he was going to be getting a ring catalogue from Aubrey, he was settling into his new form as well as could be expected, there were new interesting rooms in the town hall, and he had most importantly found out that he was not responsible for Aubrey's injury - and that his ... 'condition' at the time was a planned response to a temporary serum - he wasn't going crazy!

He had put off making fliers for the soccer league for most of the day in favor of grabbing his rapier again and hitting the beach. Some part of him felt almost guilty, as if he were cheating in entertaining the idea of starting up an entirely new sport when he had dedicated the better part of his high school and college life to his first passion, fencing. So he vowed to still keep up with the swordplay - especially if he could con Alec and Amaya and Angelina ... wow, perhaps something with A-names and fencing? ... to do it with him. Even if he was an instructor.

Unforutnately, the blaring sun generally kept him from spending too long on the beach during the day - between the heat, humidity, and his thick fur, he couldn't practice for very long. Now, though, in the early evening with the sun setting and the air cooling off - he felt much better.

He had just been through a series of footwork and point control drills - working on reteaching his muscle memory of the footwork with his changed legs - and was finally sitting down to a break, watching the last of the designs that the setting sun painted in the clouds on the convenient Western beach, taking the occasional drink from his waterbottle.


Nathan sluggishly trudged down to the beach, trying to shake off the wholly unpleasant feeling he'd been experiencing since about an hour after he entered his duplex the day before. He was pretty sure it was that fever and such Dr. Duvert had warned him about, but he was hoping a stroll down a beach at sunset and a quick dip in the surf could cure that. Granted, swimming alone was never a bright thing, but his fevered mind and body weren't at their peak of discerning advisable from inadvisable.

He couldn't remember much of the last day and night prior. He remembered going back to the duplex and unpacking his things, then he started to feel really unwell. He took some tylenol and laid down, but had to get up several times during the night to piss. He nearly threw up a couple times, but he figured it was just a reaction to the vaccination.

He wore nothing but a pair of swim trunks and his ankh necklace, on which his duplex key had been clipped. His piercings and tattoos were also ever present, of course. He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at the heat radiating off his scalp. A cool dip in the ocean would be good for a fever; leech off some of the heat and all. Right?

His feet sank into the sand as he, almost zombie-like, staggered towards the sound of the surf. He stumbled once or twice, but doggedly continued on, thinking of nothing but cooling down.

Ambrose had learned after only practicing once or twice on the island that any clothing beyond shorts ended up making him miserably stuffy. Especially after growing fur. So he had discarded his shirt upon his arrival over an hour ago (hung on a convenient branch at the edge of hte beach) and was down to wearing a pair of short khaki-colored pants that blended rather well with his fur.

The arrival of the newcomer on the beach did not go unnoticed by the reclining wolfman. His ears pricked and he silenetly watched as he walked straight from the path to the surf, where he stood facing the sunset. Even in the fading light, his eyes had no problem making out the tattoos on his arms and facial features. His nose confirmedthe fact that this was not someone he had yet encountered, and was still physically human. A newcomer most likely - and probably one of the ones that he had heard mention of. The fact that he didn't look twice at Ambrose only confirmed in Ambrose's optimistic mind that perhaps he had already had the introductory speach.

He had been alone long enough today and could deal with some company (not to mention cooling off a bit more in the seawater), so leaving his epee and waterbottle where they lay, he stood up, brushed himself off, and trotted out towards the surf to join him.

Nathan finally managed to make it to the edge of the water, kneeling down to scoop some up in his hands and pour it on top of his burning scalp, trying desperately to cool the feverish feeling. He wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm at the sound of an approach.

Please let it be a stunning blond, he thought to himself. He grinned impishly and turned to look at the approaching person. Well, it was stunning. And technically a blond. It was also massive and FURRY and had FANGS and CLAWS and very WOLFISH features.

Nathan's golden eyes widened, his face went 3 shades paler, and his mouth dropped open. An unholy scream came out of that mouth, as he scrambled backwards and teetered sideways into the water. "JESUS H. CHRIST ON A TRISCUIT!" he hollered, flailing in the surf maniacally, praying to God that it was just the fever, and he wasn't seeing this mythical man-eating beast loping toward him, heralding his DOOOOOM. "Sweet Jesus...Werewolf...not real...wake up...wake up..." he rattled under his breath as he lunged back further and further into the water, confused and dizzy.

Ambrose's friendly demeanor quickly faded, as did the endorphines from his workout as he was quickly and violently shaken from his delusions that the person in the surf was in the know.

He backpedaled out of the surf, his ears pressing back flat against his head and eyes bugging almost as widely as Nathan's.

He held up his clawed hands, padded palms facing Nathan, "s**t!" He exclaimed in perfect English.

Part of him almost wanted to go FOR the man, the sharp scent of fear baiting him, sending his own heart racing.


"Whoawhoawhoawhoa! Calm down!" He kept his hands up, taking a venturing step forward after the initial shock. "I'm not going to hurt you." s**t. It had been such a GOOD day, too. It figures. Do I have some sort of strange magnet to the uninformed, or is it just that they've been bringing so many new people?

"IT TALKS, IT TALKS! OH JESUS DON'T EAT ME!" Nathan was half drowning, his head slipping under every now and then as the ripcurrent grabbed at his ankles. His skin was flushed, red, clearly feverish. One could almost imagine hearing a sizzle whenever the water touched his flesh. "Has to be the fever...just a bad dream...gonna wake up any minute."

Ambrose's approach panicked him further, but the prevailing thought in his semi-poached mind was that at least the werewolf didn't have a Columbian accent. His teeth began to chatter, the water temperature so much cooler than his enflamed skin.


"Christ." Ambrose swore in frustration. The man was terrified of him and whatever he was doing wasn't helping. To make matters worse, he was getting pretty deep - what if he drowned? He wanted to help him, but if he did, he might give the poor man an aneurism.
And with each exclamation, a part of him wanted to shrivel up and run back to his duplex and Angelina.
... It was situations like this, however, that really stuck in Ambrose's side how he could never go home again.

Ambrose whimpered as he approached, ears down and tail tucked. If he didn't do something, he might drown - he had to.

"I'm not going to eat you! Get out of the surf, it's going to pull you under if you keep flailing like that!"

"Maybe it's just a dog. A big talking dog. Like that Tim Allen movie..." Nathan mumbled, his eyes closed, burbling water out of his mouth when the waves rolled into him. "That's it, just a dog, just your imagination. Bad reaction to the vaccine, that's all man. Just calm down. " He was shaking badly from the chills and he gave up and decided to return to the sand.

Only one problem. The sand was getting farther away instead of closer. The riptide was drawing him away further and his mind was too foggy to remember to swim across it rather than fight it.

"Can't...get...back..." he mumbled weakly, stroking wearily at the water, trying to push against the current.

Ambrose gave another snarling swear under his breath - which to Nathan would likely look nothing more than a savage growl as he sprung towards him. He was being pulled further out to sea, and if he was going to do anyting about it - he needed to now before he further risked being drug out with him.

He bounded out into the waves, spluttering as the salt water drew into his large mouth. Reaching out to the man, Ambrose snagged at his bicep, pulling him towards him and trying to keep as much of his footing as he could along the sandy bottom.

His skin was very warm to the touch despite the coolness of the seawater. His ears pressed back, so he was sick on top of all of this? Great. Ambrose was no doctor. "Right, fine, I'm just a dog" He responded, his sensitive hearing picking up the words. Keep him calm until he got him to shore. "Now come with me, you're going to drown yourself otherwise."

Nathan was mostly dead weight in Ambrose's grasp, mumbling incoherently. "Nice doggy...must be a rescue doggy...do you watch Baywatch doggy? The bouncing is nice on Baywatch." He let himself be pulled back into shore, clinging to the creature's fur like Garfield to a lasagna. As his feet once more were on solid sand nearly at the shore, he gurgled, "Don't feel so good.' And promptly retched something that did indeed look like lasagna all over Ambrose's fuzzy majesticness.

After Ambrose had grabbed his bicep, he got a better grasp, slinging his arm around his waist and pulling him back onto the beach, slowly as he pulled both of them against the direction of the tide. He frowned at the babble, not sure if he should feel more insulted or worried before finally deciding on the latter, worrying about his injured pride at a later time.

As he was just going to situation him to lay on the beach... up it came. All over his fur. His ears flattened and he smacked his lips in irritation. "Great. Just..... great. What a way to top off my evening. Thank you." With a sneer of disgust, Ambrose quickly backed away from him, holding his arms away from himself and staring down at the partially digested chunks now clinging to his wet fur.

Taking a seat back in the surf he began to scoop handfulls of water over himself with a begrudging sigh.

Nathan groaned, his head clearing somewhat now that he'd emptied his stomach. "Wha....where am I? How did I get down here?" He looked at the sand under him in confusion. "What a crazy a** dream that was." He sat up groggily, and looked right at Ambrose washing the vomit off him. "Ok, maybe it wasn't a dream. Have I completely snapped? What...who...are you?" he asked, wide-eyed, greenish of hue, looking somewhat like a drowned rat at the moment.

Ambrose sighed as he finally finished (somewhat) cleaning his fur and stood up again, walking back to shore and shaking in a very canine fashion - sending the droplets cascading over Nathan.

"As much as it begrudges me to say it... You're not dreaming." His mouth quircked up. "You did in fact retch all over me."

Shaking his head, he continued. "I'm sorry... I know this is a great deal to take in. But let's start like this... my name is Ambrose.... what is yours?"

If Nathan were in his right mind, he'd be running for the duplex screaming bloody murder. But he was absolutely exhausted and feeling wretched. He was having a tough time thinking clearly at all. "Nathan Moriarity," he said shakily. "This is my vacation. They didn't mention werewolves in the pamphlet. That is what you are, isn't it? Though I didn't think they talked, or were lifeguards..." he laughed a little at the absolute absurdity of all this.

Ambrose pondered a moment on how to respond to that, eventually taking a seat a few meters away from him to try to remain as nonthreatening as possible. This was the most changed he had ever been encountering someone new... making it all the worse. And it wasn't even the first time he had been called a werewolf.

He really was monsterous...

"Nathan..." Ambrose said slowly with a nod. "It... well, I would like to say that it is a pleasure to meet you, but something tells me that that would not be the most apt description of our meeting."

He gave a small chuckle. "I'm not a werewolf, and lifeguard isn't generally in my job description, although yours is not the first sorry a** I've pulled out of the surf. The riptide can surprise you - it's not as far out as you'd expect." he rested his hands on his knees and swallowed. How to explain this....

"If you're not a werewolf, how do you explain the whole...ears and tail and muzzle and fangs and claws deal, bub?" Nathan looked at Ambrose, water dripping off his nose ring into his lap. He wrapped his arms around himself, pulling his knees up, shivering still, though the fever was thankfully breaking now.

Ambrose winced, though to someone unfamiliar with canine expressions, it looked more like a snarl. "That is where the hard part comes into play..." He stalled.

"You said you're here on a vacation...? That's what they told you..?" He ventured, deciding to feel out the situation instead of ambushing him with the whole, horrid truth.

"Yeah...I won it. I needed to get out of town fast, seemed like a perfect opportunity. Kind of weird that it doesn't really have a name, this island I mean. But other than the vaccine they gave me yesterday making me sick, and the whole..." he gestured at Ambrose "terrifying moment and near drowning, it was going pretty perfectly too."

Ambrose nodded slowly. "Yeah... they told me that I was going to be participating in a $5000 two-week medical study... around nine months ago." He chewed on the inside of his cheek... carefully.

"Something tells me... whatever you were getting away from won't be an issue again. Because once you're here you don't leave."

He tapped his fingers on his leg. "I apologise for giving you a scare. I didn't know that you were.... ah... new to all of this"

Nathan digested the wolf man's words and he swallowed hard, rubbing at his temples. "So what you're telling me is...you used to be like me, and I'm going to...end up like you?" He gritted his teeth. "That wasn't a vaccine they gave me, was it? And this isn't a resort. It's all part of that lab. ********, man. ********! I should have taken my chances with the damn Columbians!" He pounded his fist into the sand, his mind clearing sharply with the rush of anger and adrenaline.

"Yeah..." Ambrose drew out cautiously. "That would be what I was beating around the bush. If only you had been so quick to get the wool out of your eyes on the offer itself as opposed to my explanation. Although you may not end up precisely like me. I haven't seen any other wolves... though that may not be the strongest comfort. Feral Labs and Moreau have their hooks in us... from what little I've heard from the mainland since my arrival, they're pretty... thorough in 'disappearing' us."

He hesitated, quirking an 'eyebrow'. "Columbians? As in... drug lords...?" His ears flattened.

Nathan nodded morosely, trying to get a grip on his situation. "Yeah...I was...involved... with a small timer who moved in on their turf. They killed him, and everyone involved with him, and tracked me from Miami to New York. Getting away from them was how I ended up here." He held his hand up to look at it, as if surprised he wasn't already sprouting fur or scales or some other crazy s**t.

"I guess that was my purgatory, and this is hell..."

He frowned. This was very much out of his league, and Ambrose really wasn't sure what to say or how to relate to that information. There were so many people brought to the island from all walks of life, and many different countries. If anything, Ambrose had learned a lot and socialized with the sorts of people he never even saw in his 'old life'. It was a learning experience, looking on the bright side... and a wake up call to just how sheltered he had really been on the other.

"Jesus. That's.... well, that's harsh..." He didn't exactly understand gang... or whatever else... politics. No more than what he had seen in the occasional movie. "Most of us did nothing to deserve winding up here. My only crime was to do what I wanted to do as opposed to what my parents told me I wanted to do. But without their money... I was barely scraping by in the university - and I decided that it would be more glamorous and less work to do a two-week medical study on a tropical island than to work all summer flipping burgers." He gave a bitter laugh.

He looked over where nathan was inspecting his arm. "It won't happen yet. Probably not for a few weeks. Until then you have your humanity."

Nathan snorted softly. "My old man would be laughing his a** off at me if he found out all this. He'd probably ask for tickets to watch. b*****d." He shook his head. "Hey man, thanks for saving me back there. And thanks for telling me about this place. But I think I need to go lie down and sleep some more, and try and understand what the hell I learned tonight." He wearily pushed himself up off the sand.

Ambrose nodded sympathetically as he rose to his own feet. "No problem. I'm sorry that I had to break the bad news to you. And I completely understand wanting to take some time to let it sink in. I'm in duplex number 1 if you have any questions or ever want to talk." He extended his hand in a friendly gesture, tail giving a few waves.

Nathan hesitated for a second, though more from his own general aversion to social niceties than the wolfman's paw. He shook it after that brief pause, however. "I'm in #50. Just ah...be sure to knock first, if I'm sleeping and sick and wake up and see you, I might freak out again if I'm not thinking straight, you know?" He grinned a little, then turned and trudged back off the beach towards his duplex.

Ambrose gave his hand a firm shake in response with a nod. "Fifty? Wow..." He shook his head. That meant fifty subjects. How Moreau's little 'collection' had grown.

"And... of course." He forced a smile, but it was a bitter one that looked more like a snarl as he exposed his teeth. "Take care, and good luck." He said in parting with a wave before taking a few moments to himself, looking out over the ocean.

Finally, he returned to where he had been fencing, gathered up his things, and went back to his duplex to shower and sleep.

Date: 06.29.06


I know I haven't led the best life. I know that I'm not a good person all the time, ok most of the time. I've stolen, I've cheated, I've been someone's whore for a roof over my head and a meal in my belly. But I don't think anything I've done deserves this, to be turned into some kind of animal. That's just too ******** up to do to anyone. So why is it that it's happening to me?

For the most part I've kept to myself, staying in my room, writing some lyrics, practicing my guitar, praying that I'll wake up and this will all have been a bad dream. Course waking up would also mean I still had the Columbians after my blood. Neither prospect is something I like the sound of.

I have no idea what sort of injection I was given, but I've been wanting to vomit after eating a steak or a burger, and I swear I got turned on at the sight of a woman the other day. A woman. That's not right. Course any little thing seems to flip that switch for me lately. I'm positively randy, and I have no outlet for it. Thus the songwriting and practicing. Have to focus or I'll go nuts. Or bust one.

I know I need to get out more, meet people, see if there's any way out of this bloody nightmare. But I'm scared to death inside. I don't like feeling this vulnerability, I'm terrified that I'll change into something that will have all these people looking at ME like I'm some kind of monster, and I feel horrid that I've looked at a couple of them that way. That Awen seems very sweet, and I must have acted like an a*****e to her, all jaw dropped and gaping at her fins.

I don't want to be looked at like that. I just want to be alone. But I can't stand it now. I feel a weird need to congregate with others. I may just be feeling stir crazy. I'll fend off the wanderlust as long as I can.

Nathan staggered back from the mirror, wide-eyed and terrified at his reflection. The horns...what had the kid said? A triceratops!? But no...he felt the tail with a hand. Reptiles didn't have tufted tails. What the HELL!? He let out a shaky groan, feeling his teeth with his tongue and swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat.

And why the hell was he ready to pounce on anything breathing and make sweet love to it? Wrong...so very very wrong. He let out a mournful grunt and slammed his fist into the mirror, cracking it.

The knock on the door startled Nathan. His nostrils flared as he sucked in a deep breath. Someone was at his door. It was hard to think straight through the haze of rampaging hormones. He didn't even glance at his bleeding knuckles as he stumbled to the door. Maybe it was someone who could help. Or someone who could make the raging stop.

He flung the door open, his face glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat, and his eyes wide with a mix of panic and need. "A-Alec...?" he asked almost meekly.

Nathan felt a trembling begin in the pit of his belly. "H-Help me...." he pleaded, his now enlarged brow contorting in agony of several sorts. "What am I?" He gripped the door frame and felt the flames spread from his belly outward. His belly.

He let out a shriek as he glimpsed it protruding over the edge of his jeans. "Oh sweet holy ********!" he wheeled and lumbered back into his duplex, grabbing for a longer shirt out of a pile of recently laundered clothes. "What have they done to me?" he breathed.

"I...guess it had to start sometime..." Nathan groaned, he rubbed at one of the horns on his head with the bloody hand. "At least it looks like I'm not a damn dinosaur like the kid thought." He winced as the tail began to twitch of it's own accord. "Why do I feel so...ARGH!" he spat out in frustration. He began to pace back and forth, rubbing the horn reflexively, gritting his flattened teeth. "I feel like....I need...this is embarassing as all hell. I feel like if I don't get laid I'm gonna DIE."