Trilly's Nano-Thing-Attempt (Trilly is Done!!)

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Part Three. Meh, it's kind of funny and cute, but not very much body to it. I still like it quite a bit, though.

And guess what? I actually fixed the italics in this one! I thought it kind of needed them.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter Three: Something New

I woke up to the sound of the steam engine again the next morning, and once again bashed my head against the roof as I sat up. Grumbling some choice curses under my breath, I rubbed my head ruefully and reminded myself again to either move the bed or get up and get an apartment with reasonably high ceilings.

I flopped back down on the bed, losing the motivation to get up. There wasn’t any real point to getting up early anyways. I was still stiff and tired from the night at the Old Smoke, and it wasn’t like I’d be doing anything important today. Chances are if I did actually get up, change out of the clothes I had slept in and into something cleaner, I’d be asleep again before I could even find something halfway edible to eat. So why should I even bother? For just once, I’d sleep in a bit.

I curled up under the covers again and waited for sleep to come.

It must have been running late, because I lay awake for a long time.

I turned over and laced my fingers behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. I still felt tired, or maybe it was something else-- a deep weariness that seeped all the way down to my bones. I felt like I hadn’t slept in a year. If it hadn’t seemed impossible for me to go back to sleep, I might’ve brushed it off as plain old exhaustion from my crazy life, but the fact that I couldn’t suggested that it was something wrong with me, and couldn’t be blamed on some form of outside influence.

Well, I guess I hadn’t exactly done a lot to take care of myself in the last year. I lived in a shabby little part of town, probably overdid the alcohol, drank mysterious potions given to me by a witch, and I didn’t have a life worth living. I wasn’t utterly miserable; I’d taught myself not to be, not to expect anything good to happen. To fantasize maybe, but never to actually believe in it.

But while I wasn’t miserable or depressed, there wasn’t any happiness in my life. It was plain and boring, a dull neutral. Grey. I didn’t have anything to look forward to, but I didn’t have anything to dread, either, because almost every day was the same. Maybe that was my problem. I was just a ghost, a cheap shell of a real person.

I also didn’t like lying awake because, in the absence of some senseless task to do, I began to worry. I worried about what would happen when my money ran out. I wasn’t an idiot, I know that I was headed nowhere but down. When I’d first lost my job, I had had a fair amount of money with me, and I’d made sure to rent the cheapest living space I could find in an attempt to make it stretch for as long as possible. A good plan maybe, but even the little expenses that seem paltry at first add up after awhile, and not even an entire year later, I was in this situation.

Maybe it was time for me to find a way to earn some money. The last thing I wanted was to go broke and end up on the street, unable to even think of affording a cure, if I ever found one.

I sat up slowly this time, not even daring to let my neck straighten for fear of hitting my head again. Once I was out from under the roof’s low incline, I repeated my morning ritual of stretching. Even there, where the roof was the highest, I could still easily touch the ceiling with more than just the tips of my fingers.

I changed out of yesterday’s clothes and pulled on a new shirt and pants before going into the bathroom for the regular morning rituals. One going-over with a brush and a customary head-dunk later, I probably looked better than I had all month. I’d need to be, if I was going to brave the outside world and try to find a job that even I might be eligible for.

Hi, my name is Emmet Jackson. I have no real work experience, but I used to be a professional car racer who was adored by all until I crashed my car and turned into a werewolf for an inexplicable reason. Then everyone hated me.

My favourite food is anything that’s not moldy, and my skills include driving, escaping from insane religious fanatics, and I have a really mean punch. I think you should hire me because I’m dirt poor and may kill you if you don’t.

Yeah. I may hit a few snags in the employer-employee relationship department.

I passed by the door as I headed for the kitchen, noticing that there were no new letters for me by the door. If it had been a prank, the joker may have given up.

I gripped a rubber band in my mouth as I continued walking, and proceeded to re-tie my hair into some semblance of order. I had always liked to let it grow fairly long, but it was far greater in length now than it had ever been before, as a direct result of not cutting it in a year. If I wanted to look a bit more orderly, I could always just get it cropped short...

But it felt too much like a part of me to do away with like that. I was used to it, and I even kind of liked it. It was different, but in a good way.

I saw something very surprising when I entered the kitchen.

My kitchen, living room, and dining room are essentially all crammed together into one, all purpose room. I have a small table and two chairs set up in the kitchen itself, as they were already in the room when I rented it, and behind a low half-wall there is what would be a sitting area, if it was actually furnished with something other than a wobbly stool and a moth-eaten couch the previous owner had practically paid me to take.

Because of this arrangement, I could see something in the sitting room was most definitely out of place. Last I had checked, there had certainly not been someone sleeping on the couch. But there was now.

I stalked up to the couch, gripped the intruder my the shoulder, and shook him roughly. “Wake up!” I snapped. “You have some serious explaining to do.”

He groaned, and blinked green eyes blearily at me. It was the slender youth I had encountered at the Old Smoke the previous night. How he had managed to follow me and break into my apartment only to go to sleep was a story I was ready to hear.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“I live here! I should be asking what you’re doing here.”

He laid his head back down and closed his eyes. “What time is it?”

I yanked out my pocketwatch, torn between anger, disbelief, and maybe even a little curiosity. “Seven thirty. Time to get up. Now.”

He covered his head with his arms. “Yell at me when it’s ten, okay? I’m going back to sleep--”

“No, you’re not!” I shouted. “You’re going to wake up and tell me how you got in here, or so help me I’ll dump a bucket of cold water on your head!”

“You didn’t lock up. It was easy to get in.” He cast me a disparaging look, if that was even possible to do through half-closed eyes. “For someone so paranoid, you sure are careless.”

“I always lock the door.”

“Not the window.”

“You’re telling me you climbed a building in the dead of night and crawled through a window into the apartment of a known werewolf just so you could sleep on his couch?” I asked incredulously. “How desperate were you?”

“Well, I needed to stay somewhere. I had been staying at the Old Smoke for awhile, but I left for the very simple reason that it was on fire,” he said, waving a finger in the air for emphasis. “And I did save your life, so you owe me. I figured that saving your skin was at least worth one night on your lousy couch.”

“You figured.”

“I did,” he smirked. “Are you really going to turn all wolf-y and eat me?”

I perched on the edge of the stool with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose with annoyance and a bit of frustration. Just what I needed, another complication.

“What are you?” I asked.

His smile faltered for the briefest fraction of a second before he regained it, but I had been looking for that sort of reaction, and spotted it. “Don’t you mean who are you?” he asked suspiciously.

“Nope. I mean what are you? Not human, that’s for sure.”

He sat up, wide awake now. “What else would I be, then, if you’re so sure?” he challenged.

I grimaced. “See, that’s where it gets strange. I’ve been going over the Three W’s in my head, and I can’t seem to find one that fits--”

“Three W’s?”

“You haven’t even heard of the Three W’s?” I asked with disbelief. “Everybody knows them.”

“Just tell me,” he said exasperatedly. “I’m not exactly in the loop.”

I shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.” I cleared my throat. “Should I start by telling you what you’re not?”

“I’m sure it’ll be very informative,” he commented drily.

“Okay,” I began, “The Three W’s are a system of classifying and keeping track of Non-humans. There are three different types of Non-Humans: Witches, Walkers, and Werewolves. Although technically witches don’t count, because they’re born with their differences. You probably aren’t a witch, though, since you only look a bit like a girl.”

He glared. “Just keep going, and don’t bother trying to be clever about your insults.”

I snickered. “Anyways, witches are most often female, and the only instances where it would be possible for a man to have magical powers are if that man has a chromosomal disorder of some kind. Witches have been around for hundreds and hundreds of years, and the people that practice witchcraft now are all direct descendants of the original practitioners. Scientists today believe that the potential for magic is carried in the Y chromosome, so that may explain why women seem to have the ability while most--if not all--men don’t.”

“So... you don’t think I’m a witch.”

I shook my head. “I’ve managed to rule out both types of Changelings, as well. You’re not covered in gaping wounds or speaking in slow sentences, so you’re not a Walker. And there’s absolutely no way you’re a werewolf, since you don’t have orange eyes and you seem to lack a certain threatening demeanor that we pride ourselves in...

“And that’s all the W’s. You don’t fit anywhere,” I finished.

He fiddled with the ties on his headscarf and picked a bit of stuffing out of the couch. “So does this mean you’ll accept I’m human, or will you just scrounge around until you can come up with another word that begins with a W just to prove me wrong?”

I shrugged. “Probably something like that.”

“Why are you so convinced that I’m not human?” He asked, real curiosity in his eyes.

“That’s easy. You’re not afraid of me,” I said. “From what I’ve seen, pretty much the only person who trusts a Non-Human is another Non-Human. Also... you’re weird.”

“And you actually think that these two things automatically mean I’m not human?”

“Yes. I trust my instincts. You have to be a Changeling, but you’re also something new. A different type, that just hasn’t been investigated yet.”

He looked at me expressionlessly for several seconds, then a grin split across his face and he leapt off the couch. “You’re sharp. I didn’t think you would be.” He trotted past the half wall and into the kitchen, waving at me. Apparently, he had forgotten he was supposed to be tired. “This may be fun.”

I caught my breath. “You mean I was right?”

He poked his head around the half wall. “Right? Oh no, you were completely wrong. I’m not a Changeling.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re not lying because...?”

He sighed. “Look, I’m really sorry to disappoint you, but I’m honestly not a Changeling. Since you’re smarter than you look, though--”

“Hey!”

“--I can... toss you a... femur?”

I rolled my eyes. “The expression is ‘throw you a bone’, not ‘toss you a femur’. How you even get the two mixed--”

“...I’m not human,” he said smugly, then ducked back into the kitchen. “Figure that one out, if you can.”

I sat on the stool, not knowing what to think. Life had been so simple, so recently. Get a job, live like a normal person. Now it felt like the earth had just tilted on its axis. Nothing made sense.

“Who are you?” I heard myself asking.

“My name’s NaKaranth,” he called cheerfully from the kitchen. “And don’t you have anything to eat in this place?”

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Another one... this one isn't amazing, but it's informative. And very necessary.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 4: Special

I had fully intended to go job searching today, but I was still sitting in my kitchen an hour later. The Non-Human freeloader sat across from me, happily eating a gooey mixture of honey and raspberry jam out of a plastic container, while I mostly just stared and fidgeted. Every once in awhile, I’d think of a question I might want to ask, but wasn’t exactly sure I even wanted to know what the answer was.

“So... you’re a Non- Human, but not a Changeling,” I said finally. “What makes you special?”

He looked up, a spoon sticking out of his mouth. “What do you mean, ‘special’?” he asked, removing the utensil.

“Well... Walkers don’t feel pain, and they can get injured a lot without it even bothering them. I actually heard of one getting hit by a train and walking away afterwards, although...” I considered, “that may have just been a story. Werewolves aren’t quite as... well, durable, for lack of a better word, but we heal really quickly, and we’re extremely strong both transformed and in human form. That’s what makes us Changelings special.”

“What makes you think I’m ‘special’?”

I snorted. “If you’re not human, then there has to be some way you’re different from one. So far, the only interesting abilities of yours I’ve seen are how you can be annoying enough to make someone want to commit murder, and how you can consume an entire tub of that sugary mess without your insides shutting down. That, and you have a name that no one can pronounce. ‘Na’-something... Naratha... Narkanth....”

“NaKaranth,” he corrected, licking out the container from his snack before setting it aside. “That was amazing. You ever tried something like it?”

“If I had, I’d be diabetic and have no teeth,” I said distastefully. “I have enough unhealthy habits as it is, without going out of my way to find new ones.”

“Really? You don’t know what fun you’re missing out on,” he said. He pulled his chair closer to the table and sat down in a more upright and less slouched position. Having finished eating, it appeared he was ready to be serious about something.

Finally.

NaKaranth drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully, his eyes not meeting mine. “To business, then. What if I was to be completely honest with you--”

“--honest about what you are?”

He snickered. “Not that honest. Nice try though, Emmet.”

“I never told you my name.” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. I was getting the overwhelming feeling that I should be careful. However strange he was, this was no random village idiot. Even if he meant no direct threat towards me, the smart ones could be dangerous, because people with big ideas tended to make big, and often destructive, things happen.

“Yeah, well... I guess said I’d be honest with you,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve been following you.”

“Following me?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Did you know?”

“No!”

“Well, I have been. And don’t give me that look! I’ve followed loads of people, not just you, so you shouldn’t complain. I’ve been taking notes and making observations on maybe 20 different Changelings all in this area, so you shouldn’t feel like you’re being singled out, or stalked, or anything else.”

“But why?” I asked, again finding that I almost didn’t want to know the answer. But this did concern me personally, so I thought I should probably hear it out.

NaKaranth shrugged uncomfortably. “I was curious. Things are happening, and I want to know why they happen. That’s all.”

“So you’re studying the Changeling problem?”

“It was interesting. I mean,” he made an emphatic gesture in the air, “don’t you think it’s weird that a civilization like this, one that was almost solely pastoral only 50 or so years back has been experiencing breakthrough after breakthrough in science and technology at an impossible rate, and advancing to the point where new things are being invented that shouldn’t exist for another hundred years? And at the same time, people are changing just as quickly? Doesn’t that seem odd?”

“You think there’s a link between us coming up with new technology and people mutating into Walkers and Werewolves?” I asked. “Yeah, but you’re not the only one who thinks that one has something to do with the other.” I could only too clearly remember Sister Patience describing it as “divine punishment for daring to try and equal God” or something. For all I knew, she could even be right.

“See Emm, that’s where it gets interesting,” NaKaranth replied. “Others have speculated, and in some cases formed hypothesizes, but I’m the only one who’s actually gone out and done something about it.”

“And by that you mean....”

“I broke into some places,” he said offhandedly. “All of them were research and development or manufacturing plants that somehow related to something new on the market. If one of them was causing the mutations, I’d know.”

“Are you completely out of your mind?” I shouted, knocking over my chair as I stood up. “You can’t just break into someone’s factory--”

“I think I just proved I could,” he said in an irritatingly matter-of-fact voice. “Of course, it was a little bit harder than I was used to, because they lock their windows at night.” He looked at me meaningfully. “Now, do you want to sit down and hear about what I found out, or will you just keep on acting so annoyingly human until you get angry enough to turn into a wolf and eat me? If you do, you’ll never find out what I want to tell you.”

I growled and clenched my fist tightly, and my fingernails bit painfully into my palms, but I sat down. “Go on,” I muttered.

“Anyways,” he continued on as if nothing had happened, “I didn’t find anything conclusive at any of the factories or research departments I checked out, but there’s one place left I haven’t tried, and I’m almost positive I’ll find out some stuff if we go there. We’re going to break into FuturTech headquarters.”

“We?” I asked in disbelief. FuturTech was the most prominent provider of new inventions on the world market. They made everything from vitamin-enhanced baby food to airships, and prided themselves in taking the time for quality on everything they made.

“See, that’s where you come in,” he said. “I need your help getting in”

This was all flying out of control. “What do you think I can do to help you? I may be poor, but I haven’t turned to crime yet!”

He looked at me in confusion, but eventually a look of comprehension spread across his face. “You didn’t read the letter, did you?”

“Letter?”

“The letter you got yesterday!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Honestly, don’t you even read your mail?”

Oh. The letter.

I went over to the kitchen counter and picked it up from where I had left it the day before, feeling a bit foolish. I had assumed that the little gear FuturTech logo had been fabricated to make the fake letter more believable.

I ripped open the envelope and pulled out the single piece of paper that had been enclosed, and tossed the envelope onto the floor as I carried the note back to my spot at the table.

“Dear Mr. Jackson,” I read aloud, once I was seated. “We here at FuturTech, while sorry for your hardships as you accept Changeling status, believe that it is important not only to remain positive about the possibility of finding a cure for this misfortune, but to actually take steps in order to actually accomplish this goal.” I broke off, excited. “FuturTech is trying to cure Changelings?”

“So they say,” NaKaranth said restlessly. “Keep reading.”

“How did you know I had this letter?” I asked suspiciously, not willing to continue unless he answered.

“Almost every Changeling in the city got one,” he said. “Well, all the ones who have a valid home address, anyways. I’ve seen some of my other observe-ees read theirs.”

This was the last time I would ever neglect what little mail I got. “In order to accomplish this goal,” I continued, “We would be extremely grateful if some brave, generous individuals would come forward, and agree to participate in tests in our facility. Our research would greatly assist our scientists in developing a cure that is safer, cheaper, and can be made easily accessible to the public.

“If you are interested in helping us, feel free to show at our main building, located in the middle of the City, at any time from 8:00 until 11:00 a.m.. We will take any questions you wish to have answered at this time. Rest assured that our tests are absolutely safe, and you are free to pull out at any time if you are uncomfortable with anything you may encounter. We hope to see you there, doing your part in helping your community and, indeed, the world.” I looked at NaKaranth, who was eying me hopefully. “You want me to go up to a bunch of strangers and become a test subject?”

“No, no that’s not it!” he assured me frantically. “I just need you to go to that meeting-thing at 8:00 to 11:00, ask a few realistic-sounding questions, and snag someone’s ID card while you’re in there. I think you need one of them to get the door to the file room open.”

“That’s all?” I asked. “How am I supposed to get someone’s ID card out from under their nose? I’m about as good a pickpocket as I am a can-can dancer!”

“The opportunity will arise,” he said, brushing the question aside lightly. “What’s a can-can dancer, anyways?”

“I’m not going to go through all this trouble for nothing,” I said belligerently, crossing my arms over my chest. “If I do this for you, you’re going to have to do something for me.”

“Like what?”

I was briefly tempted to ask him to tell me what kind of Non-Human he was, but there were far more useful things to request than that. And for all I knew, he might even slip up later on, and give himself away by accident.

“You’re trying to figure out what causes the Changeling mutation, right?” I asked slowly, taking the time to form my questions carefully. “You’re a scientist?”

He nibbled his lower lip. “Yes to the first, not quite to the second. I’m not officially a scientist, just curious.”

“You can still figure out what causes the mutations if you want, but that doesn’t really matter much to me. I am a Changeling, and I don’t know how I became one, but I don’t really care, either. I do, however, want a cure for being a Changeling. I know FuturTech is working on one now, and I have a friend who’s been doing some experiments, but it would probably pay to have some alternative solutions. You seem to have a pretty good idea what’s going on, and you don’t follow rules. If you tried to find a cure, I bet you’d be successful.” I said. “What do you say?”

He considered briefly, then shrugged. “It can’t hurt. Sure, I’ll try and come up with a cure.”

“Deal?” I extended my hand. He didn’t take it, nor did he seem to know what he was expected to do with it.

I sighed. “You take my hand, and we shake them. It means we’ve reached an agreement.”

He took my hand, looking unsure. “Odd,” he muttered.

We shook on it.

“Why me?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you come to me with this idea? You already said you were keeping tabs on loads of other Changelings, so why didn’t you choose one of them? What makes me so special?”

The expression on his face told me I had just asked one of those questions I didn’t want answered. There was a guarded look in his eyes I hadn’t seen there before, and he looked extremely cautious as he phrased his answer.

“I wanted to come to a werewolf, rather than a Walker,” he confessed. “Walkers don’t really want any excitement, and they don’t take unnecessary risks. Werewolves, though, I figured would be more likely to go along with one of my plans.

“So why did I choose you in particular? Easy, you had the best record.”

“The best record of what?” I asked.

“Well, out of all the werewolves I’ve seen, you’re probably the only one who’s never lost control and killed someone,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “I know you’re dangerous, but... I think I can trust you. And if we’re going to try something this risky, I need to be able to.”

“Okay.” I said, realizing with surprise that I was fine with this. He was right to be suspicious of me, and there wasn’t any reason I should care that he was. At least he was still willing to give me a chance to show that I wasn’t just some berserker with claws who went on a rampage whenever he got angry.

It would be interesting to see how I handled myself around another person, for the first time since I had become a werewolf. If I found I could keep a handle on my emotions, maybe some things could change even if I was forced to stay a werewolf for awhile. Maybe I could finally go to the bakery I passed by occasionally, and actually have a face-to-face conversation with....

But I was getting ahead of myself.

It was strange how different I could feel after planning to break into a secure building. I felt strange... more like the human Emmet Jackson, the person I had been before the accident than the Emmet that had spent the last year living in a constant state of monotony. Maybe I had just needed something to change unexpectedly before I could really wake up.

And if the opportunity ever arose...it would be nice to finally meet Mandy.

[Kathleen]

Flame throwing nuns. Yay for all kinds of fiery things! =D

Erm, I really like this. ^_^ *has been sneakily lurking and reading all excerpts*

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Nov 22, 2008 19:22:17 GMT -5 Kathleen said:

Flame throwing nuns. Yay for all kinds of fiery things! =D

Erm, I really like this. ^_^ *has been sneakily lurking and reading all excerpts*

D'awww... ^__^ Thanks.

Don't worry about sneaking around. I've lurked every single Nano thread there is and read the excerpts. It's so fun!

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Nuther part, Chapter Five this time. I introduce my last protagonist, and an entire half of the writing is a flashback. Mwaha.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 5: Timeless

I had lost everything in the crash.

For one week, I had been forced to stay at the hospital, despite the fact that I was healing at a completely unnatural rate. Three days after admission, I was as well as if I had been recuperating for several months. I was kept there for ‘further observation’ , although I didn’t think I needed any. The reason why I was actually there for so long might’ve been just so my agents could handle breaking all ties with me quietly, without the general public getting word of my medical condition, or the fact that I was now a werewolf.

I can’t pretend it didn’t come as a huge blow to me, that I had not only survived and completely recovered from an accident that should’ve left me dead or paralyzed, only to be told that I had been ‘let go’ for publicity purposes. People, it seemed, were not too keen on spending good money to cheer on a werewolf racer, even if that werewolf had recently been human, and was still a darn good driver.

People may say that society accepts Changelings, but it doesn’t, really.

So when I was finally discharged, I was left with almost nothing. Without my income, I could no longer afford the apartment I had lived in up till then, and my car had been taken away. That had been the worst part; I loved that car. I was big, red, and gleaming, and it could go faster than almost any other car on the road. And trust me, with some of the new fuels they were coming out with, everything was fast.

But my car was still faster. Or had been.

I rented my new apartment, the cheapest I could find, and one of the only places that welcomed Changeling boarders, and began bringing my few possessions in. I had set aside a day for moving in, and it was done in just a couple of hours. Bored, I had taken to the streets outside, and walked around aimlessly for awhile, taking a look at the area I would be living in.

What I saw was a somewhat dingy little street located on the northern outskirts of the City, so far from the tall, elegant new buildings in the center of town that you could only just glimpse their highest tips in the distance, and only if the smog was thin that day. The buildings here were all either small shops or apartment buildings, and most of them were made of the same dull stone, any remnants of paint faded and chipping away. Most of the people who lived here worked at the airship yard nearby during the day, had quiet work to do, or were hiding from the fast-paced world in this sad, but admittedly quiet place. The entire street carried an air of neglect, and I knew that this was a place where people came to break down, because they had no other choice. They may turn to drugs, crime, or any number of things just to keep up some semblance of living.

Where would I be in a few months?

I walked down the street, not knowing where I was going or even caring, for that matter, and I almost passed right on by the little bakery without so much as noticing it. I stopped when I did finally register that it was there, and I doubled back a bit to get a better look. Honestly, it didn’t look much different than the street around it-- it was just as plain and dull as everything was around here. But there was something noticeably interesting about it; it was clean, for one, and it looked like someone had put a lot of effort into keeping it that way. There were nice-looking cakes and cookies and loaves of bread in the window. Whereas everything else I had seemed had screamed neglect, this little shop seemed somehow--hopeful. Like whoever owned it wasn’t trying to hide the fact that it was poor and run down like everything around else around it, but realized instead that, while things were bad now, they would get better.

That had cheered me up a bit.

What happened next would probably change me forever.

I assume she must’ve seen me looking in the window, because a minute later a girl came out of the bakery. She wasn’t the sort of person I had been expecting to see in this part of town, so I was initially shocked. She was petite, with a round face and pretty features framed by thick, mid-length golden-bronze hair. She was dressed simply, but nicely, in a plain purple dress and a white apron.

“I noticed you standing all alone out here,” she said in a soft-but-strong voice. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before either. You new?”

I nodded briefly, my throat dry. This was all wrong; I was supposed to be avoiding humans, even if this one was attractive. If I lost my temper around someone and transformed-- one of the doctors at the hospital had warned me about this. I couldn’t be trusted not to kill someone.

I turned to go, but the girl caught my wrist before I could leave. I was so startled I stopped moving. Didn’t she see my eye colour? Didn’t she know what I was?

“If you have to leave, do you want to at least take a cookie with you?” she asked, smiling and holding out a tray.

They were chocolate chip. Everyone knew that chocolate was poisonous to werewolves.

So that was it then, I realized, feeling a little bit disappointed. She really didn’t notice that I was a werewolf, and that was why she was being so friendly. She wasn’t accepting me; she was just clueless, and thought I was human. Which, when I thought about it, was better than the alternative, which was that she was trying to kill me. But I looked into her eyes, and saw no malice in their blue depths. She just didn’t know.

“Sorry,” I said, and I really was. If I were human, I could’ve accepted. We might’ve talked. I might’ve found that I liked her just as much as I was beginning to think I did. We might’ve....

I really was sorry. More sorry now than I had been when they’d taken my car away.

I went back to my apartment.

After that first meeting, I saw her again very briefly a few times, and during those times she asked me several questions about the weather, which I replied to with a nod or a headshake. I also learned that her name was Mandy, and I hesitantly told her my own name. That was as far as our conversations ever got.

Every time I passed by the bakery during the day, however, Mandy would offer me another cookie, always the same kind. I would always refuse. That’s how it went then, and how it still goes now.

It’s crazy. Every time I turn her down, I feel a combination of misery at refusing her cooking and happiness at seeing her again. She’s the only good thing in this godforsaken place.

It really is better for her if I stay away. I’m to dangerous to be trusted around things that actually matter to me. As long as I’m a Werewolf, I can’t see anything ever working out between us.

That’s why, more than anything else in the world, I want to be human again.

***

Filled with hope for the future, I felt the need to temper it with caution. It was a habit I had gotten into, because it had only led to disappointment before. I needed to discuss this with someone I trusted, who trusted me.

The only person I could go to was Danielle. True, she was cold and stubborn and unsupportive, and she had me pay her insane prices for any time we spent together, but she was the closest thing to a friend I had. I valued her judgement, which was far too upsetting in most cases to not be true, and if anyone could give me some pointers on being ‘sneaky’, she could.

With the recent addition of NaKaranth to the short list of people who could actually stand to be near me, I couldn’t help but wonder about why Danielle had never shown any fear or hesitance around me. Mandy probably didn’t realize I was a Werewolf, NaKaranth was cautious but felt that his need for help was more important than suspicion... why was Danielle so calm around me?

The answer came unbidden, and it was so obvious I had to grin. Danielle wasn’t afraid, because she probably thought she could take me in a fight any day. When it came right down to it, I realized I had very little idea of what exactly a witch was capable of, and it was very possible that she could. I didn’t know whether to feel pleased or annoyed by this.

Danielle had told me where she lived during one of the meetings we held every odd week or so, for the purpose of me being able to find her if I needed to ask a question about something, or if one of the potions I had taken earlier had a delayed effect and the hospitals wouldn’t admit someone who had tentacles sprouting from the inside of their mouth. At any rate, I hadn’t needed to visit her yet, and truthfully, I was scared of going there now.

Danielle lived a bit outside the city limits, further to the north than even me. I had never been out this way before, even back when I had taken drives in the country every other day.

This wasn’t the pretty countryside advertised on billboards in town, depicting golden fields and laughing families picnicking under a clear blue sky. The trees up here were thick, but spindly, and clustered by the road as if carefully blocking something from view. The road under my feet was worn gravel, and it twisted and twined around bends and corners, making it confusing to keep track of which direction I was going in. All the buildings I passed were small houses, with the exception of an occasional church here or there, staring proudly out from behind old wrought-iron gates that creaked in the wind.

It was kind of eerie. I had always thought of my city street as ‘old’, but this place seemed ancient. The buildings I passed by were older than those I had known, but even they seemed new compared to the twisting trees and rocky, barren slopes of this place. It may have been just superstition, but I could practically feel power seeping out of this place. No wonder Danielle lived here. I shivered slightly and pulled my overcoat closer around me.

I checked all of the houses I saw for the address she had given me, no matter how abandoned they looked. All I had to go on was that number, and her assurance that if I left my apartment and travelled north up the street, I would eventually come to an unpaved road, which I was to follow until I came to her house, There would be a sign out front reading the number 63. That was her home.

I walked down the narrow stretch of road for over an hour until I finally came to the sign with the number 63 on it. I almost missed it because the numbers had originally been burned on, and the wood was darkened with age, making them difficult to see and even more difficult to read. I brushed my fingers over them, feeling the marks, and decided that I was reasonably confident that this was the place. I looked over at the house, curious as to what Danielle would consider a good living space.

Danielle’s house was in reasonably better shape than much around it, and despite being small, I wouldn’t have called it a hovel. It was extremely old, but the stonework on it was actually kind of pretty, in a rough sort of way. The only other sign of human handiwork I could see offhand was a crumbling stone well in front of the house, although I strongly suspected that there was more that I just couldn’t see, for one very simple reason.

The plants had taken over everything.

I waded clumsily through grass that was as high as my knees as I tried to reach the house, which had been completely been taken over by ivy until the grey of the original stone was only visible through chinks in the dominant wall of green. There was a small garden off to one side of the house, which was filled with brightly colored herbs and flowers that hadn’t yet been damaged by frost, even now that summer was over and the nights were getting colder. I wondered if Danielle had been working magic to keep them alive until now.

By the time I finally reached the house, the bottoms of my pants were heavy with dew from the grass, and I was feeling less confident than I had earlier. Did I really want to disturb a witch in her own house just so I could talk to someone?

I glanced nervously around, and noticed with a small start that I was surrounded by circle of small white stones. Those looked far to much like a spell of some sort. I shifted uncomfortably.

I was about to ring the small brass bell that hung beside the door when I saw a little bundle of arrowhead leaves tied to the bell pull. Another spell?

Maybe I should just come back some other time.

I turned to go, and was slogging back through the forest of weeds and grass when the door to the house opened, and Danielle came through. She was wearing dark blue today, edged with copper, and was without one of her insane hats for the first time I had seen her. I actually thought she looked quite nice without the hats, and not quite as nice while wearing one, but I wasn’t likely to confess this particular opinion to her.

I couldn’t tell if she was angry with me or not. She looked... fierce. The same as she always did.

“Uh... how did you know I was here?” I asked.

“I have warding spells on this place. They warn me if someone approaches,” she said. “Why did you come? Did you notice another side effect from the last potion?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. I’ve been fine. I came to give you this back...” I handed her the jar of cream she had left at the Inn, “And I kind of wanted to ask you about something. You see, I got this letter from Futurtech the other day--”

She looked at me sharply, “You’ll do it then? You are going to allow them to perform tests on you?”

“No. I mean yes-- maybe, how did you know about the letter?”

“People talk more when their tongues are loose. That is why I do so much of my business in taverns,” Danielle said indifferently. “You seem... undecided.”

“Yeah,” I said uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to the other. “I mean, if they’re looking for a cure for no other reason than to help people, isn’t that a good thing? In which case, should I help them? I wasn’t so sure at first, but I’ve been thinking... and, well...maybe I should. Even if it is more dangerous than they say in the announcement letter. If they do succeed, it would be good or me, and everyone who’s been afflicted.”

Danielle pursed her lips.

“But I really don’t know,” I confessed, scratching my head for no other reason than to give me an excuse to fidget. “What do you think? Does FuturTech have good intentions?”

Lines appeared on her forehead, and her frown deepened. “If you asked almost anyone in the City, they’d tell you to do the selfless thing. But this isn’t the City, Emmet. This is older than most cities, my domain. I can see things clearly here, outside the dust and smoke and haze people live in. Here, I can trust my instincts.” She paused, as if pulling together a train of thought, before continuing. “My advice is to stay as far away from that place as possible. I do not like their obsessive ways, how they must grasp hold of everything and sell it to the highest bidder. There is bound to be a backlash.”

Danielle’s words shook me. “What do you mean?”

“I do not trust them,” she said. “They may have had good intentions in the beginning, and in deciding to try and help the Changelings. But they are doing other things as well, which I believe you would rather not be involved in.”

“But how can you know?”

Danielle sighed. “There are signs to be read, but they talk of levers and gears, and skies filled with dust. I do not understand these things. Nor do I want to.”

“So, I should just...”

“I cannot dictate your life for you, Emmet. Make your own choices. If you have any faith in me, however, you will stay far away from that place. For your own good.”

I was definitely not going to tell her that, even if I wasn’t going to allow myself to be used for tests, I was still planning on breaking into FuturTech headquarters with a Non-human I wasn’t sure I could trust.

I took my leave of her, and I could swear she guessed that something was up. She didn’t stop me, though, and I headed back down the gravel road towards the city.

However dangerous FuturTech was as an ally, I was worried that they’d prove to be far more of a threat as an enemy.

[Rikku]

*glomps Emmet, then sidles away, whistling innocently*

And he can't eat chocolate? D= Aww. Makes sense, though. But still aww.

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Nov 23, 2008 23:18:34 GMT -5 Rikku said:

*glomps Emmet, then sidles away, whistling innocently*

And he can't eat chocolate? D= Aww. Makes sense, though. But still aww.

Yes, I feel very bad for Emmet. I give him a crappy life and won't even allow him the comfort of a nice, big chocolate bar to make himself feel a bit better. He does, however, have a ponytail. He's not too hard done by.

He's a canine, though. I wonder if it's actually just dogs that can't eat chocolate, or wolves too. Huh, maybe I should've found out before specifying that a werewolf couldn't.

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Things are finally starting in chapter six. ^___^ Nice thing is, I think the writing and actual story probably get a bit better the longer the story goes for.

So yeah. I've been posting a chapter per day, but I'll put them all up when I'm finished writing them all, including the prologue I was mortified with and didn't want anyone to see. We can all laugh at it together.

It'll be like a party.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 6: More Changes

I came home to find my refrigerator in pieces on the kitchen floor.

“What in the name of--that’s my fridge!” I cried, stunned at the sight of small, important-looking bits metal lying haphazardly around the room. “What are you doing?”

“Your refrigerator was junk.” NaKaranth said bluntly, from his cross-legged position beside the wreckage. “Old, broken, a fire hazard, a huge waste of resources... I’m making it better.”

“You may have confused better with destroyed!” I snapped. “There was nothing wrong with it in the first place!”

“It didn’t even keep your food cold, and you know it!”

I did know it. I just felt oddly protective of my slovenly lifestyle, and was in the mood to argue.

“You don’t even know what a can can dancer is, let alone how to repair fridges!” I shouted.

“Are you kidding? I built things more complicated than this when I was five! They were also more efficient, environmentally friendly, and more aesthetically pleasing than this wreck. If I was really doing you a favor, I would’ve destroyed it before you got back, so you would never have had to experience the agony of seeing it again!”

“What kinds of things were you building when you were five?” I asked, gleeful that he’d let something about himself slip.

Ha clammed up, glaring at me.

I sighed. “Okay, fine. The fridge was junk. I’ll admit that. Now, if you’ve had your fun playing around with it and realize you don’t know where the rest of the parts go, I’ll just take it out with the trash.”

“Don’t bother,” he said, brushing off his work gloves and shoving the refrigerator back into its place on the wall. “I’m done with it.”

I nudged a stray piece of something metal with my foot, and cast my eyes over the many screws and bolts scattered across the floor. “You’re not even going to try and put these back in?”

“They are superfluous. They can now be recycled, and put to a better use,” he said with cheerful satisfaction. “The refrigerator will work fine without them.”

I picked up the spare parts and stared at them dubiously. They looked awfully important. “Are you sure it doesn’t need these?”

NaKaranth rolled his eyes. “See for yourself.”

I cautiously opened the fridge door, half convinced it would explode like a land mine as I did so. When nothing happened, I hesitantly stuck my hand in, and found that the air inside was cold.

“Things shouldn’t happen like that,” I snapped, removing my hand from inside and shutting the door. “You got lucky.”

He waited until he thought I wasn’t looking, then mimed throwing a wrench at me.

I think he had been joking.

***

I celebrated the miraculous revival of my fridge by actually going out and buying food, a task I always reminded myself to do but somehow always managed to avoid getting around to doing. I really hate food shopping, but even it is tolerable if it means I would be able to eat something other than dry cereal every once in awhile. I wasn’t quite desperate enough to go the honey-and-jam-in-a-bowl route that NaKaranth took in the absence of real food, so I decided that the groceries couldn’t be put off much longer.

After bagging up the bread, ham, cheese, and vegetables I had bought, I walked back home, realizing I had probably shown more motivation today than I had in a very long time. It was a good feeling, I think.

***

The next morning found me seated self-consciously in the highly clean and well-polished lobby of the main FuturTech tower. It was thought to be one of the tallest buildings in the city, but it was so new that no one had even gotten around to proving that yet. The inside was modern and tasteful-- light, complementary colours, nostalgic pictures on the wall, a few fake potted trees, and an impressively shiny floor. As I had come through the front door, I couldn’t help glancing behind me nervously to see if I was leaving a trail of dirt on the spotless surface.

I had expected something vaguely sinister, if Danielle’s warning was any indication of what I would’ve expected to find, but the lobby where I waited was open and airy, and the secretary at the front desk had been very pleasant as I had explained my reasons for coming.

“Oh, you’re here about the Lycanthropy project!” she had exclaimed cheerfully. She was red-headed and quite pretty, but I stubbornly decided that she wasn’t as pretty as Mandy. “That’s wonderful. So few people have shown up so far.”

“Uh... I’m actually not exactly sure about it yet,” I said quickly. “I’m kind of just here to find out a bit more....” I let my voice trail off.

“That’s just fine,” she said with a toothpaste-ad smile. “Take as much time to decide as you’d like.”

So here I sat. Every so often, people wearing suits or lab coats would come by doing one task or another, and my gaze would inevitably be drawn towards the plastic ID cards that they wore clipped to the lapels of their jackets. Talking about committing a crime in a run-down apartment building was one thing, but even considering stealing someone’s ID card in this clean, civilized office building seemed crazy. I felt awkward and primitive, like a neanderthal at a fancy-dress party.

NaKaranth had better be able to find a cure, or I’d never forgive him for this.

“You are Emmet Jackson, correct?”

I turned to look up at the speaker, a thin middle-aged woman with short-cropped, prematurely grey hair. She was wearing a lab coat, so presumably she was some kind of scientist.

“Yeah...um, I mean yes.”

“Very good. Follow me,” she said blandly. I don’t think she was purposely trying to be rude, but she look tired. Maybe her work was keeping her up late. “My name is Doctor Craig.”

“Are you the head of the project?” I asked, curious about what her part might be in finding a cure. I may even be able to pick up some ideas of my own, if I listened closely.

She shook her head. “The project leader is Doctor Fraser. However, he is far to busy to take time out of his work hours for these sessions, so the task was assigned to me. I look out for the health and welfare of volunteers, like yourself.”

“I’m not quite decided yet,” I protested vaguely, but I had a feeling I’d soon get used to people assuming I had already made my decision.

She didn’t reply, and we continued down the bright halls, passing other doctors as we went. Eventually, Doctor Craig stopped at one of the doors that lined the hall, took out a key. and opened it. She made a gesture that I should go first, then she entered and closed the door behind her.

The room was small, and what little space there actually was was dominated by a desk. There was just enough room left to fit a small filing cabinet and a chair, and even then there was next to no walking space. The carpet was new, like everything in this place, but a dull industrial grey. There were detailed posters on the walls, both for technology and human anatomy. This was clearly a room for work, not for impressing people.

“I assume you have questions about the project, Mr. Jackson,” Doctor Craig said as she pulled out a fountain pen and clipboard.

“Yeah, I do,” I replied, my mind trying to come up with questions that actually sounded plausible, while what I was more worried about was how I was going to get ahold of someone’s ID badge without them noticing. Doctor Craig had an ID badge... “How long has this project been running for?” I asked cautiously.

“For only a few years. When we first began our research, we had several Changeling volunteers come forward for tests, and that greatly assisted us in establishing a foundation for later discoveries to build on. We believe that we are reaching a critical stage in our search for a cure, and therefore we find ourselves in need of more volunteers, to help test different theories,” she said, pushing her glasses further up on her nose as she wrote something down.

I had just thought of a question I actually wanted answered. “About these tests. Are they safe?”

“Very. In many cases, they are no more complex than a simple blood test, or an x-ray. Even for the simple ones, every precaution is taken to ensure absolute safety for the participant.”

What else could I ask?

Maybe I’d been here long enough; I was starting to feel nervous, like a cornered animal. I stood up to go. “Thank you, that’s all I needed to know.”

She looked at me, vaguely surprised. “Are you sure you asked everything you wanted to ask? That was a very short session.”

“I’m just going to go home now and... um... mull it over. I’ll think about it for a while,” I said, scrambling for words.

“Very well. If you decide to go through with it, you may return next Friday at five o’clock p.m. for a further session. Take this form,” she unclipped a piece of paper from her clipboard, “And fill it out if you wish to participate. Do you understand everything?”

No, there wasn’t much I understood these days. “Yes,” I said out loud as I took the paper. “Thank you.”

I exited the room, mentally kicking myself for panicking and not being able to come up with an idea as to how I could snatch Doctor Craig’s ID badge without her noticing. That had been my best chance. I was going to have to leave now, and I had neither learned anything useful nor managed to hold up my end of the deal with NaKaranth.

Another doctor was coming towards me in the narrow hallway, looking over a stack of papers as he walked. His ID tag gleamed.

In a streak of mindless recklessness, I set myself in a collision course with the hapless man. This was not going to be his lucky day.

We crashed spectacularly, and both fell flat on the floor amidst a storm of papers. Thanks to a small increase in speed on my part just before we hit, I had managed to strike him harder than he had struck me, and while he was stirring and moaning underneath a blanket of paperwork, I quickly recovered and relieved him of his ID tag, slipping the small, inconsequential looking but extremely important card into my pocket.

Success.

Now all I had to do was make it seem like I was actually sorry.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, plastering a look of painful sincerity on my face. I knew I wasn’t going to be winning any acting awards. “I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

The man sat up, making an irritated noise that broke off as soon as he saw the colour of my eyes. One advantage about being a Werewolf is that not many people are willing to risk yelling at you, no matter how angry they are.

Although his face was an angry shade of red and it looked like he wanted nothing more than to deck me across the jaw, he mumbled, “It’s nothing. Anyone could’ve made the same mistake.”

“Really, that’s so generous of you,” I said, disgusted with how sticky-sweet my own voice sounded. “Do you need a hand up?”

“No, no, I’m just fine,” he insisted, collecting his scattered papers into a sloppy pile before standing up, and practically running to get away from me.

I hid my feelings as I left through the main entrance, and nodded my recognition to the pretty secretary when she smiled. Once outside, I bought a ticket and hopped on the streetcar, which would take me almost as far as my street. The ID badge was still in my pocket.

Halfway through the trip, while I was standing quietly in the streetcar, holding a bar for balance, I started laughing and couldn’t stop.

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Chapter Seven, in which the plot actually advances somewhat. Imagine that.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 7: Not Quite Normal

I half expected to return to my apartment and find that NaKaranth had gutted the place, but it looked the same when I entered, and I couldn’t see him anywhere. I was confused for a moment, until I remembered that he had left shortly after disemboweling my fridge, claiming only that he had “some things to do.” He’d been gone since.

At least this meant I would finally get some peace and quiet, without having to live in constant fear of getting a wrench thrown at me, or having to put up with his inane chattering all the time. I swear, things have gotten so much crazier since he showed up. Life had been so simple before, and I was beginning to really miss those times.

At least I had some time to myself for the next little while, or until whenever he came back.

I pulled a bottle of ale out of the fridge; it was cold for once. I snapped the lid off and took it to the couch, where I sat down, and took a deep swig. Finally, a chance for a break. To do nothing but sit, and while away the time.

A minute later, I checked my pocketwatch. The time was sure whiling away more slowly than usual.

Maybe my watch was broken.

No matter, then. Nothing should be able to put a damper on my hour or two of relaxation.

I stared at the second hand on my watch until it passed around its circuit twice. It didn’t seem to be broken. I took another drink. More of a sip, really, and began to count the cracks on the ceiling.

I eventually put my drink aside with a sigh. I was bored.

Just a few days ago, I could spent an entire day doing nothing and be fine with it. Now... I was getting used to moving around, plotting to steal as well as break-and-enter, and keeping up with a Non-Human who seemed to fluctuate between intelligence and downright insanity. I had been given my first bit of excitement since I lost my job, and now it was proving difficult to go back to the dreary haze I had spent so much of my time in. I had liked things when they moved fast, and I practically lived off thrills. How could I have forgotten that?

And it was too darn quiet in here.

I quickly finished off my drink in a couple of gulps, stood up, and went into the kitchen to make some sandwiches. I was hungry, and I would probably find NaKaranth more tolerable if he had his mouth too full to talk, when he got back.

***

NaKaranth returned several hours later, just as I was beginning to go crazy with inactivity. Making sandwiches had kept me happily occupied for a good ten minutes, since I had practically measured to make sure I was slicing the pieces of bread evenly, and piled on ham, sliced cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes on with the precision of an artist. When I finished, I looked at them for awhile, then placed one of them carefully on a platter and transferred it to the fridge, since NaKaranth still wasn’t back yet. I munched on mine, wondering what to do next.

I was hard at work painting the walls when the other Non-Human finally climbed in through the window, lugging a heavy canvas bag that made loud clinking noises when he put it down. He looked tired, and his nose wrinkled at the chemical smell of the paint.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I put down my paintbrush, eyeing what I had accomplished in the past few hours with annoyance. “I’m painting the walls,” I said.

“Really? Why?”

I ran my hand through my hair, probably rubbing paint into it. “I was thinking of doing it several months ago, bought the paint and everything. I just never got around to it.”

NaKaranth looked a bit worried. I took this as a sign that I was acting strangely.

“Well... it looks nice,” he said hesitantly.

He was lying. It looked terrible. I hadn’t stripped the old peeling wallpaper off before painting over the walls, and the result was rather... crusty. The sunny yellow colour didn’t look quite as nice as I thought it would, either.

“What were you doing that took you all night and most of the morning?” I asked, directing conversation safely away from the state of my walls.

NaKaranth grinned. “Holding up my end of the deal. Look at this!”

He started unloading all different kinds of beakers, vials, and containers of... stuff out of his bag and onto the kitchen table.

“I had to buy a few things, and they may be made of inferior materials, but most of this stuff is mine. I just had to go back to-- well, another place to get it. Took awhile, but I’m ready to start now,” NaKaranth said enthusiastically. “Did you get the ID card?”

I nodded, pulling the unfortunate doctor’s ID out of my pocket and handing it over to NaKaranth, who took it and sprang away happily. Someone was in high spirits.

“Why the good mood?” I asked.

“What’s not to be in a good mood about?” he inquired, hopping onto the couch and curling up with a yawn. “Things are going without a hitch so far. I’m a little tired from not sleeping last night, but I should be able to sneak in and out of FuturTech without too much trouble, even if I am sleepwalking half the way. Also, you seem a bit less angst-ridden than you were before, and that’s a good thing. I don’t like it when people are perpetually in a bad mood. It gives me a headache.”

I was barely registering what he was saying after he mentioned FuturTech. “So you’re going in alone?”

“That’s the plan. I figured just getting you to go in there and get an ID card was pushing my luck,” he said sleepily. “You can stay here, and no one will be able to connect the files I’m going to take to you.”

Like I just wanted to sit at my apartment again. I was probably getting addicted to excitement.

“I’ll go with you, okay?”

“...Really? Why’d you want to do that?”

I decided on the truth. “I’m bored.”

He chuckled lightly. “Fine. I hope you’re stealthier than you look.”

“I am plenty stealthy,” I muttered. “I’m-- wait,” I broke off, my mind jumping back to something else he’d said during our conversation. “What did you mean ‘bad moods give you a headache’? Was that just a figure of speech?”

He was either already asleep, or a really good actor.

***

I woke NaKaranth up at 11:00, and learned in doing so learned that he was not a very graceful riser. It was nearly impossible to get him to so much as open his eyes, and for awhile I was tempted to make good on my earlier threat of throwing cold water on his head. Thankfully, after I voiced this option out loud, he seemed a bit more willing to co-operate.

We took a different streetcar than I had taken earlier, and, just to be cautious, got off a stop before the city-center, where the FuturTech building was located. Although it was doubtful anyone would notice us or remember our faces, I didn’t want to take any chances. If everything went according to plan, we’d get in and out without anyone being the wiser.

I was a bit curious as to NaKaranth’s plan, or indeed, if he even had one.

“Are we going to break in through the front doors?” I asked doubtfully. The doors themselves were glass, and therefore easily broken, but the sound of glass breaking was sure to attract unwanted attention. I had also noticed earlier that day that there were additional large steel doors that closed behind the glass ones for extra security. I didn’t know what exactly NaKaranth could do, but I didn’t think he could walk through walls.

“Nope,” he said as we passed by the front doors and headed around to the back of the building. “You have a tendency to think of only the largest, most obvious solution. The front door is the worst possible way to get in. It’s pretty much just a trap for the idiots.”

“So we’re crawling in through a window?” I asked sarcastically. “That seems to be your solution for everything.”

“No, we’re not crawling in through a window, although that is a much better idea than going in through the front door,” NaKaranth said. “Anyways, all the windows are probably locked up and too high for us to reach without a ladder, and it may attract attention if we were to carry one through the middle of town at night. We’re going to find the maintenance entrance, and use that.”

“Won’t it be locked up as well?”

“Of course it will be,” he said with an inconsequential wave of his hand. “I’m sure it has several locks and is probably completely bulletproof. Oh, look. Am I a good guesser or what?”

The door was regular dimensions, plain, and looked like it could stop an army. It was decorated with a formidable array of locks, far more than I had seen at the front entrance. There was no way we could get through this.

My expression must have shown it, because NaKaranth laughed. “I love you humans, Emm. You spend so much time making it look secure, but you still haven’t learned to keep your hinges on the inside of the building.” He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and began prying the pins out of the hinges. Once they were all out, it only took a small tug to completely remove the door. The space beyond the opening was dark, and showed a flight of stairs that lead down to the basement.

“I can’t believe FuturTech never thought of that,” I muttered as I followed NaKaranth through the entrance, propping up the door behind me. “They think of everything else.”

But then, I hadn’t thought of it either. Maybe people just had a habit of overlooking the blindingly obvious.

It was every bit as difficult to see and hear properly in the maintenance section of the building as it was in the Old Smoke on any other weeknight. Steam hissed and billowed from machinery, gears whirred and clanked in rhythm with each other, and the resulting effect was that clouds of vapor hung in the air and obscured anything farther than a few steps away, and it was nearly impossible to hear anything over the racket.

Even the Old Smoke hadn’t been quite as hot as this place.

I exited the room into the adjoining hallway, coughing. I really didn’t do well in stuffy places.

“Remind me that I never, ever want to get a job in a maintenance room, no matter how desperate for a job I get,” I hacked. “I’d rather starve to death.”

NaKaranth chuckled soundlessly, and put a finger to his lips. “I don’t think there’s anyone on this level, but I’m betting there are still some people working night shifts in other parts of the building,” he whispered. “We have to be quiet.”

“Are you saying I’m loud?” I asked in an offhand voice. I didn’t really feel the need to be affronted. “Better question, where are we going?”

NaKaranth trotted off down the hallway, and I followed behind. “If you’re trying to hide something from untrustworthy people, where do you put it?”

“Under your bed? Come on, how am I supposed to know?”

“You hide it in the smallest corner you can find, right? In the dark someplace. I’d be willing to bet that the file storage room is here in the basement, far from the sight of prying Non-Humans like... well, us.”

“So how are we going to find it, even if it is down here?” I asked skeptically.

“Easy. Keep an eye out for a door with an ID card slot on it.”

Okay. That made sense. “You seem to have a really good idea where everything is,” I asked, a little suspiciously. “Have you ever been in here before now?

He shrugged. “Not here exactly, but lots of places like it. I even grew up-- oh, this looks promising.” He broke off and stopped in front of a steel door that had a large black box affixed to it right underneath the knob. He pulled out the ID card I had stolen earlier and jammed it into the slot, hissing with irritation when nothing happened. “I’ve seen people use these things before--”

“Maybe it’s the wrong way around?” I suggested.

NaKaranth removed it and pushed it in the other way, making a happy noise as the box buzzed and the door cracked open. “You’re a genius!”

“Yeah, right.”

The room inside was dark, but after feeling around a bit I found a switch and flicked it on. The room lit up, revealing row upon row of identically-coloured filing cabinets. They were all different sizes, in some cases just a meter or so tall, while others nearly touched the roof.

“We may be here awhile,” I said, somewhat unnecessarily.

NaKaranth snorted contemptuously. “Can’t you people come up with a better filing system? Something not quite so...” he struggled for the words. “...vast?”

“Well, I guess they have a lot of stuff to keep files on,” I mumbled, not looking forward to slogging through the seemingly endless rows of storage. I had come for excitement, not a scavenger hunt.

“These things have got to be in alphabetical order,” he said, half to himself. “What should we look under?”

“Erm... Changeling, Non-Human, Lycanthropy... might want to try ‘W’ as well,” I suggested, listing off some of the more common terms. I hoped they hadn’t decided on more scientific names for Changelings, or we might not be able to find anything filed under the common names.

We wandered through the rows of cabinets, seeking out the letters we were looking for. The easiest cabinets to search were the ones reasonably close to the floor, but some were located far above our heads and were a bit trickier. There were sliding ladders that could be moved into place and climbed to reach the higher shelves, much like those you would find in one of the really big, fancy libraries, but it was difficult keeping your balance on the wobbling ladders whilst simultaneously scavenging through a drawer of papers for something that may or may not be there. It also didn’t help that I, as mentioned before, do not have a very good head for heights. I would have been happy to let NaKaranth do the climbing, but we had split up in order to cover more ground.

Just as I was beginning to seriously wonder if they had assigned a specific name to Changelings for their filing purposes, I found a promising file under the title “Lycanthropy.”

“NaKaranth, I think I found something!” I hissed, hoping my voice would travel far enough for him to hear me.

Evidently he did, because he reappeared soon after I spoke. I climbed down the ladder--cautiously-- and handed him the thick paper-clipped booklet.

He flipped through it quickly. “Looks like it. If they know anything about what’s causing the mutations, it’ll probably be in here. I was just worried you may have found their cure-finding research instead, but this looks harmless enough.”

I looked at the papers, a bit worried. If we took this, would it damage their chances of finding a cure? Did they need this bundle of papers?

I asked NaKaranth, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “People make back-up copies of everything, so I don’t think it matters much if this one goes missing. Anyways, if you still feel bad about it, I’ll even give it back once I’ve taken a good look at what it says. I’ll just leave it on the sidewalk outside sometime.”

I was no longer listening. Because NaKaranth had been talking, I had only just noticed the sound of footsteps approaching outside the door.

“I thought you said no one would be down here this late,” I hissed, dragging my accomplice into the shadows behind one of the large file cabinets.

The door buzzed, and clicked open. Judging by sound alone, several people entered the room.

“Why are the lights on?” I heard a voice ask.

“Maybe somebody forgot to turn them off. Or someone’s still in here, working late.”

I struggled to keep my breathing perfectly quiet, and shrank back as far into the shadows as I could. The lights were fairly dim, but if anyone came this way, they’d have no trouble spotting us.

I looked at NaKaranth.

He didn’t seem to have a plan either.

[Trilly (18426 words)]

I HAVE FINISHED!!! W00T!

[Kathleen]

Congrats, Trilly! =D *awesomeglomp* Because I've been lurking. >.>; So I get to congratulate, right? =D

Now I will finish reading chapters Six and Seven. *gets busy*

[Trilly (18426 words)]

Thank you so much! I have to get reading yours, too, since I've only read the excerpts so far... okay, and I'll confess to peeking at your last chapter as well. ^^; Now I have to read it all together.

[Rikku]

Yay Trilly! =D *searches vainly for werewolf-shaped confetti, and ends by throwing popcorn* ... It's the same thing. >.>;

[Kathleen]

Nov 26, 2008 13:42:08 GMT -5 Trilly (18426 words) said:

Thank you so much! I have to get reading yours, too, since I've only read the excerpts so far... okay, and I'll confess to peeking at your last chapter as well. ^^; Now I have to read it all together.

Ooh, you don't need to read mine, really. xD I'm flattered you read the excerpts, though. :3

Eee! I love this! =D *can't stop herself*

[Trilly (18426 words)]

*Eats popcorn, and dances when she finds one in a vaguely werewolfy-shape*

Thank you for the congrats, happiness, an' all! It feels... weird to be done. Like I really should be desperately writing something instead of posting messages and surfing the web. It feels really good to have a finished story, though. Like you finally know where everything goes, and what the all the words and odd little incidents were building up to. Like a finished thought, you know.

Chapter... Eight? Yes, I think so. The final chapter count was twenty, plus a prologue and a very short epilogue. I'm feeling guilty for not going entirely in order, so I'm editing the post with chapter one on it, and including the prologue. Just in case anyone wants to *shudder* take a look at it.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter Eight: Things You Shouldn’t See

Craning my neck around, I managed to take a peek at what was going on behind the shelves where we hid. I immediately wished I hadn’t. I don’t know who I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been a man in a suit who was heavyset and not particularly tall, a couple of scientists, an important-looking army officer, and what looked like two soldiers carrying weapons. Sure, maybe it made sense that the military was here-- this was a company that specialized in top-of-the-line inventions. But if they were making a deal, why were they meeting here in the middle of the night?

“The lights aside, let’s get what we’re here for done. Some of us want to get home before it’s time to get up for work again,” A gruff voice said.

“Yes, yes. We’ll conduct business in a succinct manner.”

“I just worry that we’re going to be expected to pay good money--a great deal of it, in fact--for something so experimental we’ve barely had a chance to see it work yet. I’d like some measure of guarantee that this brilliant idea of yours isn’t going to fall flat.”

“Don’t we all, General. But we’ve taken precautions. Although earlier tests may not have yielded quite as good results as we may have liked--”

“Oh, you mean like Doctor Fraser’s ‘mishap’? That little stunt almost cost you this deal, President.”

“--I am now confident that this plan has been a success.” The voice finished.

“Very well, then. Lets see the plans, and then we’ll discuss what it’s worth.”

The footsteps drew nearer. There was no way we’d just be able to wait for the people to leave, then sneak out ourselves. They’d see us long before.

I tapped NaKaranth on the shoulder. When he looked up, I gestured meaningfully, communicating that our only option would be to run for it. Despite the fact that it was our best chance, I’d feel significantly better if it was just scientists we were going to have to get by, not soldiers. We’d been very unlucky to stumble upon this little meeting.

NaKaranth looked like he was ready to run, or more likely bolt. I took this as a sign that, while he may be good at sneaking around, fixing refrigerators, and taking apart locked doors, running and brawling were not exactly in his area of specialty.

Thankfully, I was becoming quite good at these things. So maybe we still had a shot at getting out of this alive and with the same number of limbs as we started with.

The voices were very close now, and it was a wonder they still hadn’t realized we were right around the corner. I took a couple of deep breaths, and my muscles tensed in anticipation. I gripped NaKaranth’s wrist and hissed under my breath, “You’d better not drop that file.”

I burst around the corner, half-dragging my accomplice behind me as I shoved past the heavyset man and the man in the officer’s uniform in a mad dash for the exit. Surprise was on my side, to say the very least.

“They’ve got the files!”

Oh great. So they were important.

I would have yelled at NaKaranth, but I decided that it could at least wait a little while. One of the white-coated scientists was moving to intercept me, but I knocked him down easily. Ironically, when I finally saw his face, I realized that it was the same scientist I had knocked over and stolen the ID card from earlier. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Not sorry enough to let him capture me, but fairly sorry anyways. It wasn’t fun to be falling down all the time.

The soldiers stood guard at the door, and they were the ones I was really worried about. Even if Werewolves do have superior strength and stamina to humans, this does very little to even out the odds between them and a man armed with a gun. Against firearms all creatures are equally vulnerable.

“Use whatever force necessary!” I heard called out from behind me.

That was odd. They were willing to risk damaging their glorious brand-new building for a stack of papers? No file could be that important....

After letting go of NaKaranth, I managed to knock the gun out of the first soldier’s grasp before he could use it, and I kicked it away when it hit the floor. I laid out that same soldier with a fist to the jaw, but before I could recover, the other soldier had readied his own gun and fired. I felt the bullet graze my upper arm as I turned to face him.

He may have only realized it right then, but he had just made a werewolf angry. He dropped his gun.

I sprang, and could already feel my flat herbivore’s teeth lengthen into canines and my fingernails become claws. Those were the first changes, and more would follow. The man fell backwards, scrambling to get away from me, but I charged after, lips pulled back in a snarl--

And something extremely heavy struck me across the back of my head. I dropped, then spun around angrily, ready to pounce on this new assailant. I saw who it was, and reasserted control over my boiling temper. I felt my teeth and claws shrink.

“What was that for?” I hissed in irritation.

NaKaranth dropped the gun he’d brained me with distastefully. “Take your fury out on an unarmed man later. We have to get out of here.”

I took a deep breath, nodded briefly, and ran.

I had expected the hallways to be clear, but they weren’t. Three more soldiers stood guard only a few meters away, blocking our escape route through the maintenance room. They started shouting when they spotted us.

“We’re not going that way,” I said stiffly as I steered NaKaranth the other direction. Two soldiers with guns had been pushing it, and I didn’t know if I could get into another fight and trust myself to not to turn into a werewolf in the middle of it.

“What’s this way?” NaKaranth said, sounding panicky.

“We’ll see,” I replied, glancing behind me. The soldier I hadn’t knocked unconscious piled out of the file room, fumbling with his gun, and almost collided with the other three who had begun chasing us. Not so good.

“What’s that?” NaKaranth asked, pointing ahead.

I was about to snap at him, until I realized what he was pointing at.

“That’s the elevator!” I realized. Of course a building this tall would have one. Not that I particularly liked elevators, of course, since the idea of moving steadily further away from solid ground by a couple of cables wasn’t a very comforting thing for me to be thinking about, but even it beat getting shot.

We ran for the elevator, but before we got there, I heard the sound of several metallic objects hitting the ground next to me. I picked up speed desperately, realizing what they were.

“Emm? Why are they throwing--”

“Grenades!” I shouted, and the world went bright red.

I outran the worst of the initial blast, pressed the “Floor One” button, and practically threw NaKaranth into the elevator before diving in myself. The elevator began to rise only a second before the shaft below was engulfed in flames.

I watched this through the flimsy metal grate that enclosed the elevator box, and felt the heat on my face. For once, I felt relieved to be suspended in mid air. “That was a fair bit more exciting than I though it would be,” I said casually, in an attempt to calm my pounding heart. Not even driving my car at insane speeds for a living could’ve prepared me for that. “What do you think, Na--”

NaKaranth’s headscarf was on fire, and he was flapping his arms frantically in an attempt to put it out.

I fought the urge to chuckle. After what we’d been through, this was a fairly minor problem. “Just take off the scarf and then put out the fire.”

“No!” he snarled viciously, and I backed away, alarmed. This was not like the NaKaranth I had begun to get to know.

Refusing to let my disbelief show, I continued as if I wasn’t shocked. “So you’d rather get lit on fire than take off the stupid scarf? I mean, I knew you were crazy, but...” I realized something. “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you not wear that thing. You even sleep in it.”

“Emm...” he began. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Please pull it off for me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I grabbed a portion of the cloth that wasn’t on fire and whipped it off his head. I dropped it on the ground and stomped unceremoniously on it until all the flames were gone. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

NaKaranth now had both arms wrapped tightly around his head. “Give the scarf back now, please.”

I was beginning to get very annoyed with him, and there were several things I had put up with for long enough that I really wanted resolved. I pulled the lever that would halt the elevator’s progress, and we stopped our ascent. “What if I said ‘no’?”

He looked at me in outraged disbelief. “You idiot. Why’d you stop the elevator? Do you want to get caught over this?”

“No, I don’t want to get caught, and if you don’t, you’d better start talking. They don’t know which floor we went to. We have a little time, but if we don’t start moving soon, they’ll find us.”

“Just give me back the darn scarf!”

“Not happening!” I snarled back. “If you want to get out of here, you have to let me know what’s going on. Unless you’d rather take your chances fighting a full-grown werewolf in a tiny box suspended in an elevator shaft, because that’s your only other option.”

“Ever considered that there may be some things you don’t want to know?” NaKaranth snapped. “Things that maybe you’re not supposed to know?”

I snorted. “Yeah, like that matters. Talk.”

He made a face, and hissed in exasperation. “You tell anyone about this, and I mean anyone, and you’re in for a world of trouble.”

He lowered his arms.

I had been expecting something stupid, like a bald spot or maybe a disfigurement of some kind. I had even half expected to learn simply that he dyed his hair brown, and his roots were a different colour.

I don’t think I had ever been more wrong in my life.

NaKaranth had ears. Not little shell-shaped ears like humans and even Non-Humans had, but rather large, pointed ears that poked out from his mop of brown hair and looked like nothing I had ever seen before.

So he had been telling the truth all along; he wasn’t any kind of Changeling I had ever seen, but he sure as hell wasn’t human, either.

I opened and closed my mouth uselessly for several seconds. I had been hoping to make some kind of wry comment about how I had been expecting something similar all along, but I honestly hadn’t seen this coming. I couldn’t think of anything witty to say at all.

I decided not to say anything about it; I just turned and pulled the lever into the ‘continue’ position. The elevator began climbing again.

“We’ll get out the main exit on the ground floor. The metal doors are locked on the inside, so we can pull them open and leave that way. We may have to break the glass ones, but I honestly think it doesn’t matter anymore. “You’ll also need this...” I picked up his headscarf and flung it at him, “...just in case anyone sees us leaving. Got it?”

Looking at me cautiously, he began re-tying the cloth around his head, once again obscuring his ears. “I thought you said you wanted to hear some answers,” he said carefully.

I shook my head. “Later.”

“Why are you acting so reasonable now?”

I sighed, shifting back restlessly as the elevator crept slowly to the first floor. “Whatever's up with you is bound to be a long story. Tell me when we’re back at the apartment.”

He hesitated. “Emm... “

“What?”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter to me if you’re... something, but it matters to other people. You’re lucky enough to have been able to hide being different this long, so why am I going to rat out another Non-Human, when I am one?”

“Well, thanks for that,” he said, sounding relieved.

I decided to try my luck just this once. “Tell me one thing, though. What are you?”

“A Navigator.”

“That’s an occupation.”

“No, it’s not,” he argued. “It’s what my people call ourselves. It’s my species name.”

“Species?” I asked, taken aback.

“Yes.”

“But what--”

“That was one question,” he said as the elevator finally stopped at the correct floor. “You’ll have to wait for the rest.”

I had been hoping that with that one answer, things would make sense again. No such luck. Things were more confusing now than they had been before.

“I’m going to need a drink,” I said wearily, effectively summing up the kind of week I was having.