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Post by MP on Feb 13, 2018 14:48:46 GMT -6
Aaron looked at Cassius silently, mouth slanting to contrast the man’s perpetual scarred grin. There was longing in his eyes to be sure. But there was also hesitation. Reluctance, even. And he still didn’t answer. Aaron was evaluating his recent behavior, reading it from his coworker’s face. He didn’t like what he saw there.
He wanted to see Sara - of course he did. He wanted to know that she was okay. That someone was making sure she took care of herself, that they were there for her when the panic or the gloom came back. Most of all that she was recovering. But...he wasn’t.
This wasn’t so much a conscious thought as a wordless understanding, a flat sense of exhaustion that he sensed he wouldn’t be able to shake even for her. And Sara deserved reassurance. Stability. Not...this. It didn’t feel right facing her the way he was. Maybe later, when he could be convincing. And yet...he desperately wished she were here.
The conflict twisted in his chest. Still Aaron was silent. He looked at his mug. Set it down on the counter, fingers lacing as he went back and forth in his mind. He couldn’t bring himself to say no. Or yes. Instead he skirted the answer, trying to make up his mind in the meantime.
“How long would the transformation last?”
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Post by jarahamee on Feb 14, 2018 12:22:27 GMT -6
Cassius leaned back in his chair, studying Aaron for only a moment. It was an intent stare that lasted just a moment, his mouth drawing into a thin line before it relaxed back into a half-smile. Aaron was afraid, both of not making enough progress, and of putting Sara in danger. They were both viable things for someone like him to worry about, but he wondered sometimes if Aaron did not worry too much. It was one of his prime problems; worrying too much.
He thought back on other matters at hand. His update had said she was doing well, she had slipped away from her protective services several times, creating harsh words from the higher ups. That she wanted to see Aaron desperately, so the meeting was hardly ill-advised if they were both disguised and transformed. And so he went to work on a transfiguration potion. It was enough to trick his own nose, so hopefully it could trick anyone who might be tracking him. Vik came unbidden to his mind, but he pushed it away.
"The transformation lasts a whole day."
He answered easily, as if he knew the answer off the top of his head.
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Post by MP on Feb 20, 2018 23:58:17 GMT -6
Aaron hovered uneasily in the background while Cassius worked. Several times there was a hitch in the silence as if he were about to speak. But he always stopped himself, wondering how to put it gracefully. If the awkwardness of the plan hadn't occurred to the officer already, he wasn't sure what to say. In the end, he debated too long. He blinked back to himself to see the potion was already completed. Guilt struggled with discomfort now that his coworker had gone to all the effort. But what else could he say?
"Cassius," he said. "I'm...not drinking that."
It sounded blunter than it had in his head, and his shoulders hunched a little as he realized it. But Aaron meant the words.
"It'd be..." He shrugged helplessly. "Weird."
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Post by jarahamee on Feb 21, 2018 0:08:16 GMT -6
Cassius listened to his reply quietly, and for a moment, Aaron saw a flash of analytical thinking going on behind his dark, fathomless eyes. It was as if he had either anticipated a problem or maybe he was a surprisingly fast thinking behind all of that. Either way, he looked into Aaron's eyes with strange intensity then replied, without any hesitation:
"I will drink it, and you can wear my skin, if that would suit you better. Then you can be you, and no one would ever know you were there. You can wear my glamour as well but something tells me you will not need it."
The large man then leaned back in the chair, waiting for Aaron to reply. Would he hate this idea? Was it uncomfortable for him to take on the form of something so unfamiliar, even if it was temporary? Cassius was not sure. In urgent situations, others had worn his skin, to flee or defend, but in the end he always had to retrieve it, some part of him longed for it, like a phantom limb. Either way, he did not seem bothered by the idea of being someone else for a while, human disguises were easy and maybe he would not feel the strange tingling from the nerve damage in his leg and arm for a while.
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Post by MP on Feb 21, 2018 0:30:35 GMT -6
Aaron faltered at this new suggestion. It wasn't discomfort or fear. He just hadn't expected it. His eyes turned toward the skin, evaluating the eerily life-like gaze. It was probably okay - if Cassius meant to hurt him, there were definitely more direct ways - but he hadn't been aware it could be worn by anyone else. Was it an enchanted artifact? An entity? You had to be careful with these kinds of things. Doubt curled in his stomach. But...he did want to see Sara again. A short visit couldn't hurt, could it? He could keep it together that long.
"Is it okay?" he asked.
Was the skin safe? Did Cassius mind? What were the expected risks of this visit? He meant any number of things. But after a moment he decided to narrow it down. Take things one worry at a time. He was going to go crazy otherwise.
"How does it work? Would there be any side-effects?"
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Post by jarahamee on Feb 21, 2018 0:41:57 GMT -6
The skin seemed to gaze back at him with its strange, half-alive green eyes. The thick black fur almost looked ready to crawl off its throne and come towards him, but he knew it was an illusion. The thing was not moving, it was not alive, and it was not going anywhere. The thought may occur to Aaron this creature was massive when it was alive, and if there were any of its kin remaining, they must be dangerous creatures indeed. The being answered none of their questions, and instead stares at him infinitely.
Cassius wondered what Aaron was thinking. Perhaps it was a frightening prospect for the man, but nothing was more frightening than what he had just faced, honestly. And the skin itself would never have had any side effects if he had not become addicted to its power and freedom. Old mistakes meant nothing now. The man interrupted Aaron's thoughts, standing slowly and putting a hand on his chair to support his body weight:
"It is ok. I have had other people wear it before. There are no side effects except you have to hear Its thoughts for a while. If you wear It too much then you can have problems, but none of my friends had any."
He pauses, and stares back at the Beast's dead gaze. The two seemed to lock eyes for a moment, before he spoke, the scarred side of his mouth making him seem like he was smiling strangely. Was he communicating with it? Or just staring intently. Both Cassius and the Beast wore an expression that seemed grimace-like; a strange mirror. He then replied:
"You put it on and concentrate on what you want from it, and it will ask you to say something back to it, to activate the spell and agree to cooperate with you. When you are done with what you want from it, you can ask to separate from it with your mind and it will come off like any other clothing."
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Post by MP on Feb 21, 2018 12:58:53 GMT -6
It took some back and forth discussion, but in the end, the agent was convinced. He still seemed slightly reluctant, slightly guilty about the decision. But this was the plan. Even despite his shaken faith, there was still some comfort in that - in having some structure, some outside approval to rely on. The feeling encouraged him, however faint it was. Now Aaron sat face to relative face with beast skin, regarding it carefully. He’d never taken a proper look at the thing on its own and was uncomfortable to find it so...lifelike. Cassius had said it would speak to him. He wondered how intelligent the object was.
The agent picked up the skin carefully, holding it as he might a precious and delicate artifact. glancing to Cassius to make sure he wasn’t angering some kind of entity. Then he looked back at the skin, at the eerily living eyes. Might as well get it over with. It was cold. Aaron draped the skin over his shoulders, grimacing a little. He wished his coworker wouldn’t watch so intently. Now he had to tell it what he wanted, right?
Um, he thought. What was he even supposed to ask for? Just a disguise?
Are you okay with this? He thought instead, wondering if he needed to speak aloud to the skin. He wasn’t sure how much it was an object versus an entity, by there was obviously something to it. It was better to show respect to things like that, just to be safe.
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Post by jarahamee on Feb 23, 2018 1:38:05 GMT -6
The beast skin sat like an ancient relic on its ritual altar, sitting on its chair of honor before the fireplace. The skin had been carefully laid out over the seat and the head was propped over the top of the seat back. The half-alive eyes stared at him intently, as if there was some strange intelligence behind it. The logical part of Aaron's brain knew the eyes were likely glass, the teeth were made of resin, but there was something so very alive about it, as if it might draw breath.
It pulled off of the chair, sliding towards him as he picked it up by the head. It had a certain sort of warmth he could never be sure was a part of him, or was its own body heat that it radiated all its own? It felt soft and supple, the smell was more like a living dog than the odd tanned smell of any ordinary hide. It seemed to drape itself over him, as if made to fit him precisely, its arms covering his own, its head covering his. The texture was like kid skin, but a tight fit, not greasy or dry. He could not see in the space beneath the skin. And as he did so, he felt its presence, its weight, as if it was another living thing in the room, against him, by his side. The pressure of its being, strange and inhuman, brushed against his consciousness. It was...hungry, intent, but not malevolent. What it wanted most, was to live, to be. The joy of life, of exploration and simply of existence flooded into him. Then it seemed to pull away from him. It understood. And it agreed. It was 'ok with this', because it allowed it to experience life.
Yes said a voice in the back of his mind, gentle, almost wordless, more an impression than a reply.
There was a pause, and then, the skin wrapped itself around him, it was warm and inviting, somehow stretching to cover his entire being, sliding its way under his clothing and peeling what he had off of his body. The clothing slumped on the floor as his being shifted and moved on its own. Aaron himself felt pleasant, strong, fast, unusual. The change was swift, painless... almost pleasant. He felt himself falling forward, on all fours, but something in him knew it would not hurt his wrists. Suddenly, his senses opened. He could smell everything. The food they ate earlier that day, every animal and person who had been in the house for the last week, the dog next door, the soap in the bathroom. A fly buzzing in the room over. The details of the books and objects on the shelves.
Then he noticed, whatever he was, he was awfully big. He must be the size of a great dane, and in excellent shape. He felt the desire to run a marathon rise in his chest, to hunt and enjoy the snap cold, which he had to say, did not feel even the slightest bit cold anymore. Maybe this was a creature built for cold. His powerful jaws flex and he felt the strength of his mouth. He could kill a man unarmed. It felt good. The Beast lurked in the back of his mind, but it felt not so much like someone else in his brain, but rather like the presence of a loyal and hungry dog at his side. An opinionated loyal, hungry dog.
Are we going out? It asked him with half-contained eagerness.
Cassius stood back, watching him, half-smiling. He wondered if he should leave him be to go experiment in the house, but knew he should wait. Aaron would probably be disoriented and afraid of the transformation.
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Post by MP on Feb 24, 2018 13:45:57 GMT -6
The pressing, hungry life of the thing would have set Aaron's hackles on end if he hadn't been so closely wrapped within the skin. The inviting warmth of it and the pleasantness of the change did not reassure him. He'd never been wholly comfortable with intelligent objects - especially the ones that manipulated your emotions. The ones that bargained. He'd dealt with too many of those in his line of work.
Thankfully, he didn't have much time to dwell on his doubts. In another moment the floor rushed to meet him, and so did...everything else. He could smell traces of breakfast, of soap and detergent, of...of something warm and living. Not here, but somewhere else in the building. He could hear voices through the wall. The whine of a fly's wings. Ears pinned back unconsciously at the swelling sounds of traffic.
The sudden rush of sensory input was dizzying. The wolf blinked stupidly where he stood, disoriented, and sat down. The movement was clumsy as the canine body attempted to bend in human ways. Aaron looked around uncomfortably, his hind legs outstretched awkwardly, his front legs braced in a vaguely human pose. After a moment his grey eyes turned, almost sheepishly, to Cassius. He seemed to be looking for instructions. Being a Wolf 101, maybe. In the silence, he pushed himself to his feet with a faint grunt. His paws were planted wide, his head and ears lowered as if standing on ice. He wasn't confident enough in his balance yet to take a step.
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Post by jarahamee on Feb 25, 2018 0:05:33 GMT -6
Cassius looked at Aaron thoughtfully. Not quite what he expected, but somewhere in the same realm at least. It was strange the way the Beast changed some people. Sometimes it made them look just like themselves, only different. Other times, it changed them so completely he would never have been able to recognize them. He wondered if the change was reflective of their soul, or if perhaps, it was the way the Beast bonded to a person. He would never know, and he did not pretend to know. He smiled at Aaron. Something had gone right. A common thread. Was it life, or was it the common bond of wanting to be at their mate's side? Sometimes he wondered if he felt the Beast's longing as his own, but he would never know.
He knelt in front of Aaron-wolf, and seemed pleased to be the teacher in more than just stealth and range-shooting practice. He usually did not need to teach them, they relied on the instincts of the Beast and its ability. Perhaps that was what he should tell Aaron, but he also wanted him to maintain his sense of autonomy when they were out together. He shook his head, if only a little bit, his grim half-smile frozen on his features.
"... Well, just focus on one foot after the other. It should be second nature to you. Relax and do not focus too much. Your body knows what to do."
He gestured towards Aaron, and Aaron would find that moving really was second nature. He did not even need to rely on the beast for this. It was a little clumsy, but he felt the instinctual nature come up unbidden. The Beast's instincts were his own, separate from whatever could be considered its mind. He felt it in the far reaches of his brain, hanging back, hesitant, but if he reached for it, it was there. The Beast was merely waiting for their command.
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Post by MP on Feb 27, 2018 12:31:43 GMT -6
Aaron accepted these words with staring attentiveness, the pointed ears pricked forward like a police dog’s, the grey eyes flat and a little doleful. He wasn’t great at natural. Instinct in general was not something he did. He deliberated on almost everything, made each action as a controlled and conscious choice. But these were his instructions now.
He took a few dutiful steps forward, feeling around for the promised instincts the way a person might rummage through an old attic. Where was the box labeled ‘how to walk? In spite of his unintuitive thoughts, the knowledge seemed to come easily to him. Aaron padded forward in a straight and very short line, a few hitches in his stride marking where his stubborn sense of autonomy had led him to overthink his movements. He wasn’t sure how to respond to the beast voice when it spoke to him - should he even be talking to it? - and uncomfortably ignored it. Reaching his goal, he stopped and stood staring around the kitchen, unsure what to do next. His sense of purpose seemed to have evaporated along with his momentum.
With no other ideas, Aaron sat again, doglike this time. The canine movement felt uncomfortable, too much like acting. No matter how convincing the skin looked, he was still just a man pretending to be a dog. He wished he had pants.
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Post by jarahamee on Feb 28, 2018 1:35:34 GMT -6
The instinct greeted him like an old friend, guiding his feet. They did indeed know where to go, and where his center of balance was. He had to tell it where to place them but as long as he did not concentrate too hard he could manage. The more he stepped, the easier it came, the more he focused on where he wanted to go and what speed, and less micromanagement, the better things went. He stopped as he reached his goal. The kitchen smelled like all kinds of things he would like to eat, and the Beast's mind helpfully provided imagery, thoughts of eating things he would never have considered a wolf capable of eating: the pleasure of eating berries, carrots, bananas, then smelling a waft of cooked meat and vegetables on the stove, memories of eating both cooked and raw meat. This was a pleasure that both Cassius and the Beast seemed to share and neither was picky. It hardly provided a window for Aaron, more of an impression on his mind of what the Beast found pleasing and edible, which appeared to be almost anything.
The potions cabinet was also loaded with all kinds of smells, and brushes of memory told him what each and every one was as he considered it, a burst of color, a single word, and impression. Some of them... Aaron would likely wonder what circumstace they would ever have been used for, but here they were none the less. The doors beyond... Cassius' room was a den, came the thought to Aaron's mind, but it seemed to find his room equally pleasing, and somewhat den-like in impression itself.
The seating was oddly comfortable and when he settled, he found he could rise from a sitting position far more easily than he could as a human. There was nothing to hide in his beast form, and no reason to feel a desire for pants, though being nude probably felt strange to him.
Cassius eyed him thoughtfully, touched a hand to his chin and sighed softly. Aaron was learning, he could at least walk now, but slowly. He wondered if the young man would feel more comfortable in a more humanoid form, then remembered most people found things more human more horrifying. Probably not. It was a shame he would likely not be interested in the pleasures of running about the woods at midnight, or sniffing out hidden criminals in the darkness. The hunting instinct was strong, both in himself and the Beast, and there was often enough, their agreement for the transformation.
"Try walking in a circle. What do you think? Can you speak in this body?"
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Post by MP on Mar 1, 2018 2:09:55 GMT -6
Aaron’s nose twitched, independently of his own intentions it seemed, taking in the tangle of food smells and half-memories. His stomach growled at the skin’s provided images, but it was more reflective than anything. He was catologuing potions, memorizing the potential resources on hand, making use of the information thrown his way. If he’d felt more himself, the prickling guilt at his involuntary spying might have been enough to stop him. As it was, he felt a kind of dull satisfaction at this new security, and it was only Cassius’ voice that broke him from his thoughts.
The wolf looked at the officer for a long moment before giving a kind of shrug. He rose on padded feet and turned an obedient circle, his movements a little surer now. Clockwise. Counterclockwise. It felt a little ridiculous. He paused on the last step, a thought occurring to him.
He turned and padded for the guest room, a little more naturally than before. If he was pretending to be a dog, he might as well be a good one. There was a clumsy scraping, a sliding sound like claws over fabric. It was a struggle without thumbs, but he finally emerged carrying a set of clothes in his mouth, carefully, if not exactly neatly. He'd suddenly remembered Cassius' transformations in the field - his distinct lack of clothes every time he returned to human form. Aaron had no intent of being stuck like that. He set the clothes down on the floor, looking at Cassius eloquently but showing no inclination to speak. He thought he probably could if he wanted to. He simply didn't.
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Post by jarahamee on Mar 2, 2018 1:45:14 GMT -6
The information seemed endless, Cassius' life laid out simply with the same patterns that had been there for years and years. The scents unfolded, recognizable, sparking the vaguest dabs of memory in his shared brain. The emphasis was different: The Beast's values were decidedly different than Cassius', its interest mostly drawn by food, denning and thoughts of territory.
As his nose traveled over the potion cabinet, he found another cabinet contained an emergency kit with first aid items (all magical) and some bandages(not particularly magical), and a stash of hidden weapons taped under the big sink with duct tape. The dull smell of a gun, which the beast commented 'danger,' a blessed knife, and a stun baton. The Beast proudly offered to protect you as if that was not an awkward statement in the least. It seemed to be happy lurking in the periphery of his mind, avoiding his attention and yet ever present.
Cassius seemed not to mind the intrusion, or maybe he had not thought of it. He leaned over as if watching a show, or maybe encouraging a shy dog, smiling slightly. The corner of his mouth seemed to match the inclination of the rest now. He was hesitant to speak and shatter the spell as he was.
"You seem more like a natural. Try trotting next, and don't fall over."
Cassius eyed the clothes. There was no way that Aaron would be able to shift back and wear the set of clothes. Instead put out a finger as if indicating he'd be right back. He went into the bathroom, moved some things aside from the bathroom closet, and came out with... a robe? A rather large robe at that, for someone wider than Aaron. He then placed it over the ridiculous officer's shoulders and stepped back, turning around to give Aaron the privacy he looked like he wanted.
"That might work better. Or you can tie the legs of the Beast around your torso, it'll provide you with modesty."
Cassius himself looked like he probably did not really think about modesty very often.
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Post by MP on Mar 2, 2018 18:39:28 GMT -6
Aaron blinked dumbly as the robe was draped over his shoulders, the tip of a white canines showing as his muzzle wrinkled in puzzlement. He looked at the robe, then up at Cassius' turned back, half expecting the officer to go and retrieve something. Understanding dawned on him in another moment.
"Uhm," he said.
Tie the legs of the Beast? That didn't... He looked down at his forelegs, feeling the defined, very nonflexible bone. That did not sound feasible considering his skeletal structure. But the robe at least provided a sense of familiarity and cover. He decided it was fine where it was, and lowered his head a little so that it wouldn't slide off his shoulders.
"Uhmm," he said again, reluctantly. He remembered how Cassius sounded - and that was with practice - and didn't especially feel like embarrassing himself in the attempt.
He pawed at the spare set of clothes, just once, and then had a better idea. He trotted back to the kitchen, robe and all - inadvertently testing the gait Cassius had requested - and returned with a plastic bag that he laid beside the clothes. Aaron nudged them meaningfully toward the bag, though he lacked the dexterity to do it himself.
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