Fandom The Rehabilitation Experiment (IC, Open)

[Flooferton]

[Interest/Characters - Join Here]

Each and every one of the participants in Sami's little program were given a set of their own clothes, their confiscated belongings-- within reason-- and something from their home, before they were unceremoniously shoved in the back of a police car and driven off to a place far out in the country. The gates towered, so far above their heads, that it seemed even the tallest giraffe wouldn't be able to stick their neck over the top, and the smooth white walls around the property only dipped lower by a foot or two. The white arch which contained the curled metal bars that separated the villa's cobblestone entryway and fountain plaza from the rest of the wilderness had been carefully decorated by golden wing patterns, adding some gilding to the convicts' new cage.

On the other side of the walls, clean-cut lawns and trimmed hedges surrounded the curved pathways to and from the main manor's front door, an elegantly-carved dark wood double-door surrounded by pristine white walls and with a cozy little green-cushioned bench on either side. Yellow shingles sat on a pointed roof, and in the distance, one would have been able to notice similar-looking, smaller buildings out in the distance, far behind the main manor and off to the right-hand side. An especially observant animal could notice a sitting area or two in front of those far-off buildings, much like the one in front of the main building itself. Red curtains covered each and every window, obscuring the eye's access to the interior and focusing one's perception on their exterior surroundings.

On the edge of the fountain sat a familiar black sheep, all dressed in gold, save the brown vest and bright red ascot. As the gates closed behind the very first member of the experiment and the guard escort dispersed, a single black cat in a maid's uniform took his place as he stood. His cane was as natural a part of him as anything else, while he sauntered forward as if he owned the world and everything in it. Then, he stopped, one hand on top of the other as his glossy, red cane hit the ground between his feet. "Good morning," he greeted the first of the bunch. "Did the guards give you any trouble?"

 

[Sinimax]

Despair - To be forgotten is worse than death.

Idris often wondered if his mother was looking for a reason to cut ties with him. Because, since the incident, she was ready to wash her paws of everything dealing with Idris. Eventually his two sisters would follow the same suit. But honestly, he didn’t know how they feel. They never talked that much, and his mother kept it that way. His almost-friends would probably try to forget him, too. His crime – for a carnivore – was unforgivable. To think he almost created a genuine friendship with them. Maybe they could have saved him from himself. But the grief came too fast and his mother actions was too deplorable. Tau, that water buffalo that always berated him, came in at his most vulnerable state. When the police came in, Tau was screaming, Idris heavily bruised and beaten, the scent and sight of blood marked his crime. It was assumed Tau struck Idris as a means of protecting himself. An image to help fuel a jury mostly consisting of herbivores. Idris never told anyone the truth. That most of those bruises never came from Tau at all…

Entering prison finally was when this foggy dream turned reality. He really did all of that. This all actually happened! He’s in jail! His school already expunged him from their records. He committed a crime! No, he was a predator who committed a taboo. His life was ruined. Even if he gets out of here, his chances of getting any decent job or anything was down in the toilet. That’s if he gets out of here. There was a point while in his cell where he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, and he couldn’t feel. Is this despair? To be forgotten in an inescapable metaphorical hole. Left with only images of his pathetic life and crime to keep him company The walls closed in on him. Everything felt so small and cramped. For a while…he was ready to give up. He was used to helplessness. This was no different…

Then that sheep showed up. That Mr. Sami Lautrec fella. Idris thought he was just another psychiatrist to see how much further in despair the hyena sunk to. But Lautrec said something else. He spoke of redemption, freedom, a second chance at life. It was enough of an illuminated lifeline Idris needed. Call him a feeble fish if you like. But when he saw the lure Sami casted, he allowed himself to be hooked.

*

The ride to the place was stressful. Idris wasn't fully over his experience in jail. He found himself clutching his duffle bag. He didn’t wear his fresh set of clothes just yet. He was a little to overwhelmed from receiving such a gift. For the moment he kept the new clothes nicely folded and carefully packed in his bag. He instead wore clothes he took from home: baggy jeans and a oversize purple hoodie that showcased an obnoxiously rainbow-colored winged unicorn from a weird show for children that adults watched. But the trip was worth it. Asides from the ominous inescapable walls, the estate was much easier on the eyes than any prison cell. He almost forgot about the guards leading him in. Almost. A sharp order caused him to straighten up and continue moving forward instead of standing still, gawking.

He flinched with the gates closes. As the guards dispraised, Sami was right there. “Oh! Uh…Hiya!” Idris stammered. “I’m er I’m fine, they were fine. Didn’t even see them. Eh heh.” His laugh was nowhere even close to a genuine hyena laugh. More of a nervous whimper. When Idris looked at Sami, he mostly saw the sheep for who he is – a sheep shape beacon of confidence. Through him, Idris saw his one and only chance of putting this all past him. He saw what it was like to lose everything. To be truly discarded. It showed him he truly wasn’t living as an individual. But now that mother was gone…maybe…maybe there is a chance for him.

 

[Flooferton]

Sami opened his mouth, an, 'Is that what you're wearing?' so close to the tip of his tongue, never to be spoken. Any of his old friends would have chided him for that, how he hadn't really changed since high school. He took in a deep breath, shut his eyes, and relaxed his shoulders. For all the pressure taking in these wayward souls should have put on the sheep, he was never known to buckle. It took a certain kind of animal, a certain kind of herbivore to look all the way up to the ragged, snaggletoothed hyena, a convicted criminal, without so much as a flinch. Really, the childrens' show T-shirt might have eased the tension a little for the sheep, but the hyena within that shirt was still said to have 'viciously mauled' a water buffalo.

The clothes the Sere family gave this program were atrocious. Baggy, obviously worn by his elder sisters before him. So, he had the hyena's measurements taken. He sent his own set of clothing; a black woolen hoodie, designed to fit Idris' body, though not so tight that it would be uncomfortable, and simple shirt and slacks for now. If the hyena had any fashion concerns, the sheep would have to hear them later.

As a sheep, Sami was very well attuned to the sounds of fear. Not only were his own parents skittish, but generally, his woolen peers would scurry away from conflict or difficult situations. Idris' laugh was the same. Sami paused, tapped his finger against his cane. "I've been told I'm a little... intense. You have to be when you want to get carnivores to take you seriously, especially at my size." He leaned forward and thoughtfully hummed. "If I scare you or intimidate you, I'm sorry about that. Still have to tell you the rules right now, unfortunately."

Sami stood up straight again, still utterly dwarfed, even at his tallest. "The first rule is you stay in the walls. This property has a lot more space than you've been used to, even at home-- Yes, I visited your home." As far as he was concerned, it was not the best house he had to visit for this, but that wasn't the most polite thing to say. "So, you'll still have plenty of space to roam, even if the great, wide world is off-limits."

"Rule two," he declared. "No drugs or alcohol. None of the animals I approved are in the best mental shape, and these things are easy to abuse. No knives or other weapons--" He held up a single finger and interrupted his own spiel, "Have you been clawing yourself? Biting? I need to know."