Trying to Relax (open)

[sully]

Sully was exhausted. He hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night, and his classes had been torturous. He could barely keep his eyes open by the time his schoolwork had been finished. He trudged across the grass, seeking rest.

Without stopping, he began to shift, contorting and shrinking, sprouting a smooth layer of fur, until he was a least weasel trotting across the lawn, headed for a tree that he had been visiting a lot ever since he came to the academy.

He stretched out his long, slender body and settled down in the shade under the tree, closing his eyes. Too tired to sleep, it seemed. A slight breeze ruffled his fur, cooling him down after walking under the blazing sun. His little weasel mouth stretched wide in a yawn. Sully found himself thinking of home, before his first shift. He had felt so much more free before he had his first shift, a day that he recalled with a shudder. But at the academy, he was confined to this little island. He wasn't even allowed to go to the neighboring island inhabited by regular humans. One more year, he thought tiredly.

One more year. That felt like a lifetime. It had only been a few days and he was already ready to leave. But no, he's special. Too special to remain where he was. They call the shifting gene a blessing, he thought bitterly. It's more of a curse. It brings so much pain, but the fact that I can turn into a freaking weasel means that God chose to make me special. Yeah, right. He felt more like a freak. A freak who couldn't stay where he was just because of a trait he inherited.

Thinking this much made Sully's head hurt. Groaning -- or whatever it is when a weasel tries to groan -- he squirmed around into a more comfortable position on the grass, trying to find sleep and failing. And when he couldn't sleep, he kept thinking, despite how much he didn't want to. I do enough thinking in Introduction to Philosophy, he thought. But wait, aren't I thinking now? I don't want to think right now. Ugh. Not thinking was harder for him than he originally thought. Shifting around a little more in the grass, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get some sleep.

[Alina Cedlov]

Alina was people-watching. This was out of character for her, but all the same, here she was. She was sitting cross legged in the shade of a tree, facing the walkways, idly glancing around. When people walked by she'd focus on them for a second longer than people who were far off, but all the same it wasn't long enough to gather information. In other words, she wasn't doing it right. She raised a long fingered, pale hand to her mouth and yawned. Usually she'd be sleeping right about now, but she had slept in that day and would feel guilty about sleeping some more. She had wandered out to the Flamingo Lawns and sat down with her camera resting in her lap, hoping for something to photograph. Ven had been there for over an hour, long enough that people stopped looking at her as they passed. As the sun moved across the sky she'd move to follow the shade. She glared at the general direction of the sun every time the light encroached on her space.

Ven was deep in thought, as usual. She was feeling oddly isolated. This wasn't far from the norm, but it didn't bother her most days. People who keep to themselves tend to be isolated. Alina felt that she had led a charmed life. She wouldn't call herself spoiled, thanks to her authoritative parents, but she was always a privileged child who led a comfortable life. Their government research careers paid well and Ven grew up surrounded by science and general intellect. They were both shifters, and comfortable with it too, so after her first shift they immediately accepted it. No questions asked. They taught her to control it, which came easily. Alina and self-control were practically synonymous. They were supportive and informative. She became very comfortable with shifting. It wasn't some hated ability she tried to hide, nor was it something she ran to when she felt insecure. It became an extension of her that couldn't be ignored any more than her own arms.

And yet. Here were all these people who were traumatized from their first shift. They hated it, resented it, feared it. All with good reasons, sure, but why did it have to be this way? And so she felt isolated from them in their fear and anger. It didn't help that it came about just as they all got filled with angst. She wondered, yet again, how many people were actually shifters. Did she meet them every day? Of course she did, here, but before. Are they aware of each other? Did they come up with some sort of special hand signal that only other shifters recognized? No, that would be ridiculous. But what would happen if they exposed themselves? If one person did then she'd probably be whisked to some lab for tests. But if they all were to step forward and shout "WE EXIST!" at the world, who could deny it? They'd be like any other minority group. She could see the headlines now: FIRST SHIFTER PRESIDENT. A TRUE LION IN THE WHITE HOUSE. With an absent smirk she let that train of thought meander on for a while.

Alina sighed, looking up from the settings on her camera. She hadn't noticed that she was fiddling with them. A boy walked by her then, aiming for the trunk of her tree. Okay, it wasn't hers, exactly, but at the moment she claimed it as her own. She lifted her camera, rotating her whole body to follow his movement, focusing it on him just as he was about to shift. Click She looked at the blurred figure on the display. The face was extending forward into a snout and the whole body was bent forward, shrinking. She looked up to see what he had become. Some sort of weasel. She raised her camera again, catching him as he scampered toward the trunk and curled up in the taller grass. At that moment she felt the warmth of the sun on her foot. She groaned and looked around for where the shade had gone. She rose stiffly to follow it, stretching her legs in the mean time. The weasel seemed too tired to notice her, so when she sat down again she was facing the trunk. "You know, if you were a real weasel and I was a real snow leopard, I'd have eaten you already." Her blunt statement caused her to smile. It wasn't threatening or joking, just matter of fact. She looked at the curled up shape in the grass. She hadn't caught much of what he looked like pre-weasel, but she did remember that she looked younger and most definitely shorter.

[sully]

A voice startled Sully out of his silent meditation. Cracking one eye open, his gaze traveled upward to the face of a girl sitting in front of him. Usually, he'd be intimidated by the size difference. The least weasel is small, and Sully had never fully gotten used to the difference between his animal form and his human form. But at that moment, he was too tired to care. Her words processed in his head, and he laughed a little -- well, whatever a weasel laugh is, anyway. It was more of a combination of chirruping and purring. The noise surprised him, and he made it again, half experimentally and half because it amused him.

He rolled over onto his back, something he didn't even notice doing. It was like an instinct to him that only kicked in when he was in his weasel form. Stuff like that happened a lot, and he was kind of annoyed whenever he did weasel-like stuff. Another cool breeze ruffled the fur on his underbelly, and he sighed with contentment. The little things in life pleased him like that. Even something like a nice breeze amid sweltering air brought him pleasure. His philosophy was that life was too short to not take time to notice things like that. But then again, Sully was always trying to get places as quickly as possible. Was it really him that took pleasure in little things, or was it his subconscious? More thinking, he thought, irritated. I'm not supposed to be thinking right now. This is my relaxation time. Not thinking time.

Sully vaguely remembered the presence of the girl sitting next to him. It'd be polite if I shifted into my human form right now, he thought absently. But he was tired and just kept on lying there. At the very least I could open my eyes, he thought. But the sun was so bright, and his furry little eyelids were so heavy. No, I'll just keep lying here. Some other students were talking loudly around the lawns. Their obnoxious voices were like drums beating against the inside of Sully's skull, making his head hurt even more. Maybe I should go see the nurse. The thought surfaced, but then melted away. He had never liked taking medicine for when he was tired or his head hurt. Unnatural remedies somehow annoyed him, though he wasn't sure why. Better to just keep trying to relax. Another weasel-y sigh and he squirmed a little on his back, shifting into a more comfortable position on the soft bed of neatly trimmed grass.

[Alina Cedlov]

Alina's gaze traveled away from the small mammal. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her forearms on the convenient shelf they created. She looked back at the weasel as he made some sort of contented noise. A vague smile flitted across her face at that, glad that he was relaxed. Ven was blissfully unaware of her imposing presence and it had always irritated her when people dissolved in to nervousness around her. Yet here was someone who weighed 50 grams or so, totally at ease. Just then he rolled into a more comfortable position, exposing the delicate skin that covered vital organs. The steady rise and fall of the compact chest, the pulsing fur by the throat... Alina suddenly found herself thinking how easy it would be to simply reach out and... Ven clenched her fists, staring down at her nails. They had begun to grow, thicken, and harden. This was always the first step when she shifted. Soft, useless nails become lethal, long claws. She swallowed, looking up at the branches of the tree above her. Her nostrils flared and her teeth gritted together. That was NOT okay. There is a human being inside that thing. When she looked at her hands again she splayed her fingers far apart, satisfied that they looked perfectly human again. There were pinpricks of blood on her palm from where she had curled her fingers in and the claws had pierced the skin. Ven studied her palms for a moment, her expression radiating frustration.

Under control of her "wilder side" once more, Alina moved once more into a cross legged position and snatched up her camera. The shutter clicked a couple of times as she made a panoramic view of the campus from her vantage point. It was a digital camera and it could have been made completely silent, but Alina enjoyed the definitive *click* that it gave off. Her brow was furrowed with concentration, as if pressing a button was the most difficult task in the world. Really she was just keeping herself busy, trying not to think about murder. Ven was a strict vegan as a human, but when in her Shift she had hunted quite often. Here, on this island, she was always afraid that she could be attacking something that was half-human. She had never craved meat when human up until this point. It so disturbed her that the cool and collected front she threw up in public was fraying at the edges. She realized that she needed meat to feed the snow leopard that lurked in her conscience, but where could she find something that she was sure was 100% prey? She would not under any circumstances, eat some factory farmed meat that had who knows what mixed in with it. She could taste the difference between something fresh and healthy and something that was pumped full of antibiotics and whatnot. Aware that there was nothing that could be done about it now, Ven made a mental note to ask one of the teachers or administrators about it.

Ven looked at the curled up fur ball that was still nestled in the grass. He seemed to be sleeping, but she saw his face twitch in response to a group of noisy kids walking by. Alina composed her face once more, glanced at her hands, and wondered how good a weasel's sense of smell was.

{{OOC: Awful post ;___; Sorry}}

[sully]

The voices of the loud studnts were fading with distance, but they were still too loud for Sully. His little weasel ears had excellent hearing, which wasn't always a good thing, in his opinion. Like now, for instance. If he was in his human form, the voices wouldn't have bothered him. But with improved hearing, he could hear them clearly from far away, which kept him awake.

He let out a small sigh and rolled back onto his stomach, curling into a ball as he did so. It was nice and comfortable, lying there in the grass, but something kept him from falling asleep. A scent drifted into his nostrils, faint at first, yet still enticing. Sully's nose twitched curiously, responding to the pleasant smell. The scent intensified, as if whatever was giving it off was coming closer. Cracking open his eyes, he watched for movement with half-opened eyes.

A slight shift in the grass caught his attention. His watchful eyes flicked over to it. It was just a subtle movement. Really, it could've just been the wind. But the grass had moved during one of the still moments. Sully only seemed to notice those tiny details when he was a weasel. Instinct just seemed to invade his senses, improving and honing them. The change seemed to spread to his mind, too. Somehow noticing small and seemingly insignificant things. Like the shift in the grass.

Sully's eyes opened a little wider, then narrowed. Slowy, carefully, he straightened out his long, slender body, but didn't get up. A tiny spurt of adrenaline found its way into his veins, giving him the energy to move out of his relaxed position and into a hunting stance -- haunches raised, front lowered, crouched in the grass. Sully's human mind wasn't aware of what was happening. At that moment, he was all weasel.

The grass shifted again, the tips waving in the air. The delicious smell drifted out of the clump of grass once more, invading Sully's nose. It was intoxicating. Warm, fresh meat. A dark, tiny form found its way out of the grass, snuffling along the ground. Sully licked his lips. A mouse.

Slowly, he began to inch forward. One paw forward, stop. Another paw forward, stop. Over and over again he repeated this process until he was mere inches from the delectable treat. His lips raised in an silent, excited smile, brought on by the animalistic thrill of the hunt. The creature had its back turned, still sniffing at the ground. Sully waited a moment, then pounced.

He had the squirming creature trapped between his two front paws. Normally, he would've bitten its neck immediately, but he felt almost drunk as instinct took over. Right then, he wasn't hunting for food. He was hunting for fun. And it felt good.

He let the terrified mouse run a few inches, then trapped it below his paw again. It was squeaking and struggling, trying to free itself from the weasel's grasp. He let it do this a few more times, then decided to end it.

Sully was preparing to bite down. His mouth, lined with razor-sharp teeth, was open, ready to snap its neck. Only when it as mere centimeters from the mouse's neck did a thought drift into his mind. I'm a human.

He stared down at the mouse. It as just lying there, eyes squeezed shut, tiny chest rising and falling rapidly. What? No I'm not. I'm a weasel.

You're not, the voice replied. You're a human, about to kill some tiny, innocent creature for fun. Don't do it.

But he already had the mouse beneath his paws. Why stop now? But the human half of his mind was returning, drifting in, exterminating his bloodlust. The weasel half was persistent, though. It's so insignificant, though, it thought angrily. It's just a mouse. No one will miss it. Why can't I kill it?

This time, the human half took over. His sense of right and wrong drifted in, and he felt ashamed at his actions. Sadly and a little reluctanly, he lifted his paws from the warm body.

At first, it just sat there, confused. But when it realized what was happening, the mouse took off, zipping away into a bush. Sully turned back to the tree and the girl, head hanging and tail drooping, and returned to them. He lied back down on the ground glumly, ashmed at what he almost did.

((oof, long post sorry about that))

[Alina Cedlov]

Alina was staring straight ahead, wrapped up in her own thoughts. She didn't notice the mouse or the fact that weasel had gotten up and was stalking toward it. Her human senses were dull and useless when compared to the sharper ones of her feline half.The weasel had moved into her line of sight, though she didn't register right away that he was the same one that had been laying in the grass not far from her. When her eyes focused on the movement, she glanced back at the empty depression he'd left in the grass, and made the connection. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they focused on the tiny field mouse, then darted over to the form weaving toward it steadily.

Ven remained where she was, her expression unchanging, and watched the action unfold. She'd watched animals hunt before, had done it herself while in her snow leopard form, so this was nothing new to her. Her worry that whatever she sank her claws into was just another shifter, too terrified to shift back in time to save themselves, had caused her to hold back here. Even if there was a distinct difference in mannerisms and movement between a real, through and through animal and a Shifter, there wasn't any definitive proof she could turn to in times of doubt. When they were about to die, she imagined everyone had pretty much the same look about them.

As a human she was always sure whether an animal was a Shifter or not. When she was in her snow leopard form, however, her thoughts were clouded. She was still fully sapient, but when she looked at potential prey there was less feeling; she simply didn't care. Frankly, this freaked her out more than anything else about shifting: losing her self-control and doing something regrettable. She had never voiced this concern to anyone, not even her parents. She figured it was something she'd have to work out herself.

Meanwhile the mouse had been caught, released, and caught again. Ven gathered that either this was a hunt driven by some animalistic sense of fun or this guy really sucked at hunting. She realized which one it was as the weasel bared his teeth and prepared to strike. Even from this distance she could see the light flashing over the pointed canines. Then the weasel stepped back. The mouse skittered away, panic stricken. The weasel slunk back and lied down in the shade once more. Alina didn't need to look very hard to pick up on his attitude at that moment. She sighed , leaning back on her hands and stretching her legs out, relaxing once more. "Don't you ever worry," she began, turning to look at him, "that you could be eating your roommate or something?" She knew he couldn't reply in that form. She didn't expect a reply, she just didn't want to be alone in her thinking. Her pensive eyes studied the depressed Shifter. Another kind of person would try to cheer him up. Alina didn't see the need to. She always worked out her issues on her own, why shouldn't everyone else? Despite this, she found herself speaking again. "It's hard, isn't it? Holding back?" Stupid empathetic human responses.