Upside Down, Backwards and Inverted (StoneWolf18 & Morris)

[Morris]

William Shrike limped casually up the stairs of the apartment house. He knocked on the door; no answer. Good. That harpy was away from home, for now that is. He opened the door and shut it closed behind him with indifferent, robotic gestures. Another day, another wasted, meaningless day, he thought to himself. Ever since he came back to his country, he felt like a stranger. He couldn't quite depend on anyone or anything, nor did anyone or anything depend upon him. Janitor at a high school - a paltry payment for a tedious job. And now, summer break was coming. He was digging through one job offer after another, calling one phone after the next, going from interview to interview. Nothing, absolutely nothing.


Well, it's not like his life was in danger - having served in the army for a long time, and suffering from physical issues meant he could count on social security support fees, but falling that low would mean going to a new place - again - and potentially ruining his own chances for a job even further. As if he really needed another blow to his already diminishing self-esteem.


Good thing his partner-in-rent wasn't here right now. William was self-aware enough to recognize he was a messy person. But Megan? She would need psychological counseling. Lots of it. And a professional headhunter company to find a work for her. He put up with her antics because he wouldn't be able to pay this 3-room place's rent on his own, and his job meant he was away from her for most of the day. But now, dark times were looming ahead. Then again, this was nothing new - toiling aimlessly, surrounded by people who don't care for him was a good summation for his latest years. He was quite fed up with it by now.


He had withdrawn to his room, dropping off his sweated clothes on his unkempt bed, taking up some clean ones instead. He then reached for the shelf next to his wardrobe, picking off his latest acquisition from a book shop: "The Corvin and the Lynx", a fantasy novel by one R. Ronald Remington. That was his newest coping mechanism: immersing himself in fiction. Before recently, his only encounters with the genre came from that film trilogy. Lord of the Bracelets, was it? Something about jewelry. And he remembered the rest of his fellows chided him for not knowing what it was based on.


William, at the moment, could use the time alone to rest his head a little. The previous few days were non-stop stress. Maybe this will alliviate it. A story about two siblings of noble blood, marked with tattoos, seperated from mother at a young age by a kidnapper, sold to and raised in a gladiator school... hm, not a bad premise... he looked at the alarm clock. 19.42 PM. It should be some time until Megan drops by. He might as well keep reading.


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

Megan was pissed.


Although, what was so strange about such a behavior?


With the woman, it was difficult to tell whether she was just being the bitter version of herself that she had quickly morphed into over the years, or genuinely angered at something aside from her bullshit life. Her family had tried to help her cope with the false charges, yet what could be done when your face had been publicly displayed on every news station and name on millions of newspapers and radio talk shows, condemning her despite easily escaping any prison sentence? Not much. With that in mind, trying to find a job with an employer who was willing to believe her innocence or at the very least lose the skepticism was a challenge in itself. Moving past the on and off bouts of depression with rather heavy medication and not to mention an unhealthy (or affordable) amounts of alcohol, every day for the last seven years after the initial shock of the whole ordeal had been the same. Get up, find something to eat, not acknowledge her roommate, and leave for the whole day trying to track down some form of employment even when she knew each interview was going to end the same way. Some just never returned a call, others were quite harsh explaining that they wouldn’t hire an alleged criminal. Then she’d return back to the three-bedroom apartment, collapse into bed and pretend it all didn’t exist for the few hours she managed to get some sleep.


This time, however, she returned early. Why? An interviewer got a bit too mouthy. By this point in her life, she was numb to all insults or worse thrown in her direction. Yet when she calmly went to take her leave, the man continued to go on, bringing politics and other such nonsense that barely related into what had evolved into a rant just because she had tried to get a damn job. Now climbing the steps, jamming her key in the door and pushing it open. She allowed it to slam closed behind her before shuffling to her room and doing the same with that door as well. If that man hadn’t pointed to her photo, she wouldn’t be in this situation but rather already having graduated from college and moved on, maybe even started a family. The once again depressing realization that was nearly done daily caused her to fall face first onto her bed, face buried in her pillow as to quiet her already nearly soundless sobs, soon falling into a rather fitful sleep thereafter due to how mentally exhausted she was.


---


It hadn’t been the first time they had gotten themselves in such situations as it tended to happen when one wasn’t human. Mirage ran quickly as the guards were alerted of their presence, unsure of why Waldemar had been so distracted as of late. Allowing her golden eyes to scan the air above her, the wolf-raven hybrid couldn’t be found, lovely. It was at times such as this one that made her envious of his wings and ability to fly. Glancing behind her, the nearby city patrol had joined the three that had caught on, swords unsheathed as they screamed and yelled for her to stop. Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself to speed up, the gate within sight although with two guards blocking the path. Forcing her way past them with a slightly unexpected (but not unrealistic) burst of strength and a smaller build to squeeze her way through, the woman was free to head towards the medium sized river that wasn’t far off the main path while still being pursued by the guards that wouldn’t be a problem for her to lose. As the moving current was seen in the distance, she prepared to shift forms, knowing very well that the men had a very different idea of what would occur.


Arriving at the edge, there being a slight drop off until the water was met. Turning to face those that now cut off any other exit, sneering and cursing at her. Mirage knew she was going to be teased for making a dramatic exit, but at this point it couldn’t really be helped. With a grin, she allowed herself to transform. It was, for lack of a better word, relieving. Almost intoxicatingly so. But as natural as it felt, it would never appear as such, the scene for the human guards quite horrific. Her form would lower itself slightly to stand about three and a half feet tall, taking on feline features as her rear-end extended in length to total up to six feet, and that was just her tail not taking the lioness’ torso into account. As it finished, the “beast” gave a mocking roar before slipping off the edge and into the water below.



Swimming for a good twenty minutes, Mirage didn’t delay in hauling herself out on the nearest bank, finally having located Wally within the sky. Shaking some of the water from her pelt, the hybrid parted her jaws to call out to him when he suddenly plummeted from the sky and onto the grasslands below. Giving a startled cry, she half ran-half slithered over (the action normally extremely comical) to where he landed. Examining the valravn carefully, she saw that he had not only been hit with an arrow in his left wing, but seemed to have fallen unconscious due to what could’ve been a magical aura about him. Odd. Not tallying nonetheless, she quickly spread him out so where she could work and stared with the arrow, breaking the shaft off. Hopefully he wouldn’t wake for it was sure to cause quite a bit of pain.


@Morris

 

[Morris]

It was the door crashing against the wooden framework which shook William out of his literary absoprtion. - "Bollocks." - he muttered. She dropped home early, and judging by how the house shook from the forced move, Megan had to be in an even fouler mood if that was even remotely possible for her. For cripes' sake, if she damages the apartment, or the neighbours file a complaint, who's going to pay for it?! Swallowing his own onset of anger, he forced himself to settle down and listened to his better judgement. Megan and him had their share of shouting matches over the past half year until they both learned to just ignore one another and drew out their own territories between the limited confines. He decided to gave her time to settle down a bit before giving him a piece of his mind. He was willing to afford that much patience at least.


He knew about her case. Merely a year ago, it was all over the national news - a rampant female criminal has been caught! Only... it wasn't Megan. She just have happened to be so strikingly similar, even with her hairdo, and coincidentally matching first name, and she was at the worst place at the worst time. One barmy doppelganger story if there ever was one. And while the evidences fell short against her, there was no clear-up in the matter until months later, they caught the actual rabid fanny. Did the media clear that up? Well... technically yes. Except it wasn't on the front pages and top news, because by then everyone was more concerned with the Ukrainan crisis, and the elections in the USA. So the horrid mess-up was clarified in some short radio quips, last-minute news reports on small channels, and newspaper articles on the bottom of the next-to-last pages which nobody ever looks at anyhow. Except for William, appearently, which is why he didn't make much of a fuss when they met as rent-sharers. Not that it enkindled Megan to him too much.


Somewhere within, he felt really sorry for that woman. She was not unintelligent one bit, and with those stunning looks, she could have had a bright future if not for a key witness' mistaken testimony. But sympathy only stretches so long when a person keeps being a gormless jerk every day. He kept reading another chapter. So, the siblings win one last tournament, and they'll be free... and there's this guy, same tattoo as the one who kidnapped them in the beginning... meh, chapter ends with a cliffhanger. He looked to the clock; half an hour passed, and he didn't hear movement from Megan. Usually when she comes home, she took some tea and whatnot to calm her nerves.


William slid a tissue paper between the pages to mark how far he read, then went outside to the mixed kitchen/living room. Nothing; she didn't even leave her coat and shoes outside like she used to. A feeling of anxiety crept up the man's back. - "Crickey, tell me she didn't..." - He silently approached her bedroom, trying to listen. No sounds; the frame was all too well constructred to prevent noises from coming out. William took a deep breath. - "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" - he whispered, then gently knocked. No reaction. He pushed down the door handle, peeking in...


Well. Good side: she was alive. Planting her face down into her pillow, giving out muffled sounds which were halfway between crying and snoring, but hey, alive nonetheless. Bad side: she (along with her room) was a fookin' mess, as the saying goes. And people say men don't look after themselves, eh? How is he going to explain this to the landlord if he drops by the day after tomorrow?! He was about to turn away in disdain and shut the door tight, when some photos caught his eye. Megan's relatives, most likely... and a handful of articles, citing her innocence, framed and bolted to with amateur hand moves on a thin wooden sheet. Located so neatly on the shelf next to the door; is this what she looks on every time she goes out?


A sense of pity swelled within William. - "Well, bugger me." - For the first time in several months, he decided to (probably pointlessly) go out of his way and do something nice for her. Closing the door gently, he cleared up the living room and put some earl gray tea up - no milk, but with a spoon of honey, that's how he remembered she likes it - and put some sandwiches together, ready for toasting, along with a small but stylish salad bowl.


He went back to her room once he was done. The night was still young, and knowing her, she won't head out before noon anywhere tomorrow, so some dinner might just set her mood straight. Err, less curvy, that is. He approached with care, softly touching and rubbing her arm when next to her. - "Megan? Psst, Megan, you awake...?"


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

Megan had nearly fallen asleep by the time William had decided to brush her arm. It wasn't uncommon for him to disturb her attempt at resting, although it was normally for her to clear the mess she had made in the kitchen or ask where he portion of the rent was for that month. Expecting something of the latter, she took a moment before forcing herself to turn and face him, her raw and noticeably dull hazel eyes meeting his pale blue ones with a hard edge of disdain that was only fractured by hints of fatigue and possible despair it seemed. The small woman grunted before muttering “I’m working on getting the rent together…” Not having the mental energy nor will to spout any verbal abuse as normal. Their conversations usually weren't anything to be proud of and were comparably more toxic than a bottle of Clorox. If they weren't avoiding each other purposefully, then exchanges were filled with either the cost of the rent and how they were going to afford it or some other such topics that weren’t very pleasant.


However, the two were almost in the same boat in a way. He was struggling to find better employment while she couldn’t get hired. She was envious really, not having a stable source of income versus making something rather huge, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about it. Megan had considered asking her parents once again, or, hell, even a few friends she had kept some sort of connection with if it came to it, which it clearly had, yet she was sure neither would take kindly to it, just assuming she was still trying to use an old excuse to get cash when in reality a year had past.


@Morris

 

[Morris]

Megan must have really had it rough to be so drained of energy, not even to toss her customary slander in his direction. That look in her swollen eyes told William everything he needed to know. Megan wasn't exactly a displaced war refugee, like the ones he dealt with in the Balcans, but her situation brought her fairly close enough to qualify. Like that one woman on the Kosovo border, who was denied migrant permit, as opposed to the rest of the family... she looked nothing like Megan, in all honesty, but the tiredness and hopelessness resonating from them was pretty much the same.


And they found her dead the next morning. Committed suicide in her old, bombed-down house with a knife. All because the guy holding the stampers didn't bother making a few more phone calls for clarifications. How did the colonel say it? Oh right. Every action has consequences. So think well before you act. But also, think fast. So William put away his usual grumpyness, and put up his peacekeeper face.


"I'm not bothering you about the rent, Megan. Nor the mess." - he stated firmly. - "I'll help you clean that up tomorrow. Right now.... I'm going to sound very stupid. But you had me really scared for a moment. I thought..." - he kept a brief pause, then shook his head. - "Nevermind that. Thing is, I realized something. That we have both been behaving barmy with one another, because we are, on our own terms, both arse over elbow in problems. So..."


He looked to the photos next to the shelf before turning back. - "So let me start by saying sorry. Come on out to the kitchen, I made you some dinner and tea. Just... let's chat over things like adults, for once, I guess."


Were she compliant, who knows? They might just work something out. Exchange phone numbers, adresses... one could find luck where the other didn't. Show a united front before the landlord. Or even if not, just make the last months they will be forced to spend together into something more bearable.


These thoughts were circulating around his head, when he started feeling a mild pressure. His vision went hazy, then clear again. Just fatigue, probably. The tea kettle was whistling already. He rubbed his forehead a bit. - "I'll get that. So.. coming or not?"


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

William...was that his name? Possibly. She gathered that as he spoke, listening to how he explained that he was worried about her, in more ways than one most likely as she knew her mental status couldn’t be the best considering the amount of pills she had to shove down her throat. Yet at this point she didn’t really care and allowed life to drone on as usual. In all honesty, it was confusing. Why did he care? Hell, what did she do to him to give him any reason to care? At the mention of dinner, she frowned slightly, attempting to coax her sluggish mind to process what he had just said. The man apologized, made a meal for them to share, and wanted to talk to each other as adults would. Still remaining slightly skeptical, she slowly swung her legs off the bed and stood, blinking her reluctant eyes open as she wordlessly moved past her roommate and into the main living area of the apartment where the food was laid out. Sandwiches, what looked to be a salad, and mug which was going to be filled with the tea. Finally having it register in her mind that he was attempting to be somewhat kind, she stood paralyzed for a moment. Unsure how to respond. Part of her wanted to take part of the meal and retreat back into her room to sulk without so much of a thank you in return. The other, however, longed for civil human interaction as she had gone much too long without it.



Not moving for a good minute as she tried to figure out how she was going to respond, Megan slowly pulled the chair out from her side of the rather small table and sat looking towards wherever William currently stood. Finally finding her voice beneath a mound of emotion and a constricted throat, she managed to ask “Why?” It came out more of a soft squeak than anything else, yet still held more than clear notes of curiosity and quite possibly gratitude as well. Yes, she had already been given an answer, but she wanted to hear it again. Just to be certain with herself that this was indeed reality.


@Morris

 

[Morris]

Meanwhile...
​

Waldemar took off from the bastion's top in a hurry. He got what he came for, and would leave before it was too late. Unlike Mirage, his cover was more difficult to maintain; it had been blown prematurely. So he decided that if he got to go, he'd go hard. Spreading his huge wings wide, he leaps off as he reverted to his true shape: a lupine-like body, but with all the features of a predator bird - legs and arms ending in scaly, thin, hairless clawed fingers, a large beak protruding from the face, and wings and upper side covered entirely in feathers; the size of a human, but nothing like it at all.


Should he look for Mirage? Nay. Too risky. He'd put them both in harm's way, make themselves easier targets if they insisted on staying together. It bit them in the hind quarters before; for now, he had to trust the water-panther to rely on herself. She was very resourceful, to be sure; she'd just need to reach that nearby current that was already visible from his airborne perspective. He would only swoop down if he spotted she was in trouble. He used the gales to float himself high above, trying to get out of shooting range. The humans have gotten abnormally good in responding rapidly to crisises; already, there were horsemen with bows and crossbows riding out for a chase, followed by a two-horse drawn repeating carroballista no less. If that thing hits him just once...


With his extremely sharp distant-sight, he spotted Mirage deep down below. She was pursued closely. Not good. But the river isn't that further away. Will she make it? In the end, instincts bred by camradery and familiarity have prevailed over his tactical sense, and Waldemar started a darting dive towards the earth's level.


It was this mistaken, easily anticipated straightforward move that exposed him. But that move was also the same thing which made the gallopping marksmen focus on him, as opposed to catching up with her. If he was aware of that, it would had been a price he paid gladly. Which he did, in a sense: with an arrow piercing through his left wing, right next to a joint. He let out a pained shriek, trying to swallow it down, not to distract Mirage. Let her succeed, let her escape...!


She got away safely. As soon as he confirmed that, he raced for the heights again, pushing out the agony from his mind. His blood loss wasn't significant; the arrow hit only flesh, not arteries or bones. He focused on putting as much distance behind him as possible. Once outside patrol range, they should be safe.


Suddenly, out of the blue, his head started aching. Was it a turbulance? It didn't feel like that. It was no ordinary headache. His vision was blurred, his sense of direction lost entirely as alien sensory inputs invaded his brain, whilst something simultaneously pecked out the content already within. It was all too obvious where this will leave his body if he stays up high. He used his remaining strength to steady his flight path downwards, aiming to reach a forested region with lots of pine tree canopies.


"That witch..." - he thought with his last vestiges of self-awareness. - "Damn that crone, she LIED to me!"


And then his flight turned to a fall.

Elsewhere...
​

So, she got up and started moving. Good. Were the circumstances different, William would have likened Megan's slumbering march across the less than 10 pace distance to something from a badly directed zombie movie. She certainly had the looks for it. He limped after her once she settled down with that confused expression on her face, pouring the tea, nodding to her to drink up.


Her question hit him as an afternote, only realizing a moment later that what she said was an actual word, rather than weary moaning. When he recognized that, he shrugged. - "Well, why not?" - he said, placing the sandviches inside the toaster. That pressure on his head was shifting in and out; not getting worse, but it was bothersome. He played around with his wrists a bit, checking his own pulse. All seemed in order. - "Maybe it's just coincidence. I've been reading this silly book lately. Fairy tale, not for grown-arse adults... but hey, whatever helps. It had this sentiment about the heroes being destined for great things, then someone buries them in shite. Figuratively, that is. So they grow up into horrible people. Struggling from one day to the next. Until they get a reminder... they still have choices; just their own embitterment makes their options seem more narrower than they are. I never was into this stuff before, but that kind of touched me."


William never tried this sort of tea before. It was unfamiliar, but not that bad. Not that bad at all. He felt his head relieved for a bit. Standing up, he checked on the sandwitches. Just a minute or two more. He kept speaking his mind standing watch, his back towards his roommate. - "What do you see when you look into a mirror? On my account, I see an irritable wanker. Heck, this is not who I was. Not who I wanted to be. Same as you, I imagine."


With a blissful little *bing!* sound, the toaster accomplished its mission and yielded up its tasty, hammy content. William poked them to two plates with a butter knife, then brought them to the table. - "I'm in a rambling mood, aren't I?" - this was a remark aimed to himself. - "Long story short. I don't know how long we'll keep being here. Sharing this place. Maybe we'll both have to move if we're unlucky. But I think... maybe we could just, at the very least, show some decency to one another while it lasts."


He kept silence for a while, taking a few bites. He tried to observe the emotions running across her cheeklines. But all he ended up with was an onslaught by the mother of all headaches, breaching to his head like a swirling, paradoxical vortex, both swallowing all it could from the surface, and belching out something entirely different in its place. What was going on? He felt his body parts go numb. He was reaching for his half-full teacup. - "Excuse me-" - he said. - "Something... got into me... bollo-"


The curse was cut short. He dropped down from the chair, a finger still clasping the porcelain cup which broke across the floor.

Here and now...
​

The world was dark before his shut eyelids. He could not force himself to open them. He only felt a torturous sensation in a limb that he didn't even know he had; but along with that, an oddly comforting presence looming over. He felt a mild breeze, fresh air. Was he outside? He was moaning... hissing? Can a human throat produce such a sound? - "I- is that you, Megan?" - he whimpered quietly, wishing that whatever reply awaits him will pull him back to reality.


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

Megan listened quietly as he spoke, sipping the tea he had poured her. Earl grey… it surprised he how he had remembered such an insignificant detail. Willam… was that his name? Regardless his words made more than enough sense. As he paused for a moment, she swallowed her small mouthful. “I see…” She began in a similar, soft, and slightly awkward tone. “A bitch of a woman who is to too wrapped in self pity to give a damn about anyone else.” Staring down into the mug she held, her expression turned into a slight grimace. Yes, she was aware of her own actions and she wasn't going to deny how she acted day to day. But saying it out loud to someone else was even less pleasant than mentally acknowledging her daily faults. Yet she couldn't catch a reply nor listen to the man continue before he collapsed to the floor, the glass he had shattering sending glass and scalding tea everywhere. Her eyes widened, her own mug becoming loose in her now shaking grasp. Was this karma? Some punishment for not being more grateful for his action? Or was an all powerful deity toying her by luring her into a state of security before crushing the small amount of happiness she had managed to scrape together? Lowering the cup slowly onto the table, she stiffly stood and made her way around the mess and do his side. Kneeling carefully she examined his chest, still breath. So he was alive…. but what had caused him to fall? “William…?” She asked, giving his shoulder a slight shake, genuine worry floating her tone.

Meanwhile…
​

As Wally mentioned Megan, the lion-serpent scoffed before nudging his wing with her muzzle to examine it a bit more. “Talking about that old love of yours again? The damn half-dragon was insane…. I thought you already got over her…” Trailing of, Mirage sighed. “Hold still, this’ll hurt although I know you’ve fared worse….” Before gripping the wooden end within her mouth and pulling. It slid out easily as it wasn't barbed nor broke through the other side of his wing, so she assumed he wouldn't be in that much pain.


@Morris

 

[Morris]

Waldemar struggled to regain his hold on consciousness. A feminine voice resounded in his eardrums. Sounded most familiar. He tried to move his limbs about; arms, legs, alright... numb, but responsive. His wings? He didn't feel them at all. Most worrysome... he felt two palms leaning against his shoulders, shaking him fervently, albeit not with violence, but sincere concern. He slowly opened his eyes; his sight was yet hazy, but he could tell from the golden hair of the woman alone he was in friendly company. If only the Sun wasn't shining into his pupils. Wait... the sun? He was already above the forest when he started his dive. Shouldn't they be under shades? Did he fall on a clearing? But then he shouldn't have survived that!


He tried to mutter something, but nothing intelligable came out at first. His jaw and face muscles felt as if they didn't belong to him at all. He slowly put a hand on the woman's shoulder, using her as a help to sit up. - "Just... a moment." - he blurted out. Half a minute more passed until he regained his eyesight. But when he did... well suffice it to say, what he beheld wasn't what he expected.


"Um... Mirage?" - he asked the all too familiar looking and sounding, but strangely different woman kneeling beside him. - "Thanks for your concern, but... where are we? And... I don't remember you shaving yourself?


His gaze turned to the hand that he rested on her left shoulder. A very, very human hand. The shock was sinking in, prompting an appropriate response. - "Well... shit."

In an entirely different place...
​

Megan's response made no sense. Still too aching and tired to open his eyes, William began to wonder whether it was some of Megan's water-solvable psychiatric medications that he used by accident instead of earl gray tea. Old love? Half-dragon? Sincerely, what in the blazes? Even the inside of his mouth felt all wrong. - "Look, if I took your happy pills by mistake, tell me-" - His mind got too occupied with trying to tie up the illogical input to brace himself for the incoming pain.


When Mirage pulledthe arrow out, William jumped up and... well, he wanted to scream instinctively, but it was more like a loud and piercing bird-like shriek that exited his throat. And with that, his eyelids peeled themselves upwards. He gritted his teeth (or whatever else happened to be in their place) and grunted, leaning back and forth to cope with the event, ignoring his surroundings for one more precious moment. He turned to the direction of this other person who rested a hand upon him. - "The HELL was that for, you posh twa-?!"


Yet again, the curse fell short. The face that met his gaze was that of a... large feline thing. The hand he felt on himself was a weighty paw almost as big as his face. And also, it had a humonguous tail. With fins on the end for some reason. And they weren't in their apartment. They were outside, in the pristine lap of mother nature, like a national park or something.


William instinctively wanted to yelp, but it came out as cawing instead. - "Back! Bad kitty! Back, back with you!" - he ordered the creature as he vehemently pushed himself out of its reach on all fours, up and until his head met with a tree trunk from behind. - "Ow!" - he noted, reaching out to tap his skullbone with his fingers, only to... ruffle his feathers? In his disbelief, he reached down to the skin surface, and pulled. Ignoring the stinging sensation, he pulled his hand back... or what qualified as such. It was an avian-like limb; four long, clawed fingers. Which held a coal black raven feather.


He stared at his new self. Tapping his body in different parts. Only to move his gaze back to the oddly feminine sounding... mer-tiger, or whatever it was supposed to be. - "I've gone bonkers, haven't I?"


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

As he slowly regained consciousness, Megan frowned as he referred to her by another name. Maybe a side effect of whatever caused the fall? "Are you-" she tried to say but paused abruptly as he continued on to her having shaved. More than a bit confused, she was about to ask what the hell he meant before the man was apparently in shock at the sight of his hand. "We....are in the apartment we rent together..." She said slowly, not sure if this was a figment of her imagination or not. "And I think you smacked your head when you fell... My name's Megan..." Although I'm rather surprised you bother remembering. She added silently while trying to coax a response out of the man. He had went from trying to get them to talk things out to not remembering where or maybe even who he was. Odd indeed. "I... would suggest calling for an ambulance if you're that hurt..." Megan continued, her voice sounding slightly more stressed that she intended for it had been a long while since being nice to someone actually mattered. "But the medical expenses would be much greater than the cost of rent."

Off in lala land...
​

 
​

As her partner suddenly began speaking, the half feline managed to push her muzzle into a frown of sorts. Yet it continued as he was apparently frightened by her appearance and tried to back away. As he inspected himself and was in clear disbelief, Mirage sighed and sat... or as close as sitting as she could get. Which was curling her tail akin to a snake while having both paws rest out in front of her. "Bonc...rs? Are you trying to imitate the elves again? Last time you tried they almost skinned you alive. Regardless that injury you sustained might be a bit more serious that I thought... maybe the arrow was coated in a poison or something... hmm..." Bending down to where the bloodied arrow head lay, she gave it a sniff and shook her animlistic head. "Nope... odd, well might as well try and cure this bout of amnesia before it gets too permanent...." She trailed off, slowly shifting back into a more humanoid form. Once it was finished, she nearly mirrored Megan perfectly save for the lack of clothing and golden eyes. "Mirage? Lioness-sea serpent? We were paired together because we're both odd hybrids? Is this making any sense, Waldemar?"
 


@Morris

 

[Morris]

William was fairly certain at this point he's losing his grip. The lioness-serpent, as it named herself, was lecturing her about the dangers of speaking a fictive language (which appearently had shades of his native accent), poison and amnesia. This was weird enough in- and of- itself, what with the creature speaking with Megan's voice and all, which was ill-fit with that lion or tiger-like neck and facial structure which only bore a couple of remotely human-like features.


Then it transformed. William looked on with a trance-like awe, his jaw (or lower beak?) dropped. The process took several minutes, but every second, every perceived detail only added to his confusion. Her mane culminating into lush waves of hair, her tail parting into legs, fins to foot, and just about her entire upper body structure rearranging itself to a composed, humanely feminine form. She bore a striking resemblence to Megan, with only her eyes being markedly different; she also bore a couple of animalistic features, such as patches of fur in certain areas, and her skin tone was just a slight shade different.


And she was naked.


Upon realizing this detail, William averted his eyes in shame, and somehow managed to raise both an arm and a wing to avoid looking in her general direction. - "The blazes are you doing?!" - William complained. - "Whoever you claim to be, we aren't *that* close! An- and my name is William, thank you very much!" - he added. Though looking over himself, he had the feeling that if it wasn't for the feathers, he too would technically be bare.


He closed his eyes and shook his head defiantly in the concealment of his extra limb's coverage. Think, think, think! He desperately wanted to make sense of this grotesque realm of existence. - "Please... pretty please, give me a moment. I have to think this through..." - he muttered half-coherently, hoping this isn't one of those stupid folk fables his former north european colleagues shared with him about huldras and mixed into a predator-chase dream sequence-


Wait. Wait just a darn minute. Fables? Dreams? This actually reminded him of the time he worked alongside an army psychologist for a few months. He did this thing called psychoanalyzis. Perhaps it was worth a try?


He read a fantasy book. This is a fantastic world. It was about a boy and a girl, with the boy having a crow tattoo, and the girl with a lynx tattoo. Here, he is some bird-man, and this other thing is feline. Last thing he remembered, he was settling down for a peace talk over dinner with Megan, so she's here as well. The names she mentioned? Waldemar and Mirage? Close enough matches to the actual people. As for the weirdly sensual transformation sequence... well, he hadn't been in a meaningful relationship with any women for quite a while by now, so no wonder his freudian thoughts would be subconsciously haunting him.


William slowly lowered his arm and wing, staring in front of himself with newfound enlightenment. He couldn't exactly smile with a beak, but his eyes radiated with glee. - "It... it all makes perfect sense!" - he exclaimed. - "I lost consciousness, and now I'm DREAMING! Ah, for a moment I was truly worried I became a loony." - he chuckled in a cluck-like voice. He was quite relieved to have pieced it all together, turning to his would-be "pair" with confidence this time, albeit limiting himself strictly to eye contact: - Well, now that I got that figured out, Megan... Mirage... whomever you are, go ahead and speak freely. I got all the time in the world to play along with whatever you want." - until someone wakes him, that is... or so he thought in blissful ignorance.


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

To put it lightly, Mirage was almost as confused as the man who assumed she was still her long-time partner. It was clearly written upon his avian-esc features despite the lack of an expression he was contentiously aware of showing. His beak was slightly parted along with this feathers somewhat ruffled as was per-normal when he was distressed and not to mention the more than obvious confusion within his eyes.


Then, it grew a bit worse. After she returned to a state which the woman thought he would recognize her in, more or so than being naturally frightened by a giant lion-snake hybrid, his beak opened in a manner that in almost any other situation could've been take as comical. It was definitely not the first time she had transformed in front of him, Waldemar even had explain his complains for her lack of an extra set of clothing more than once, especially when within public places. (It wasn't her fault humans were so damn self conscious.) And at the moment she was sure they were or rather close to the border of the previous kingdom as that particular city was right on the border of the human's and dwarves' territory. It wasn't as if that someone was going to come waltzing up out of the brush any time soon... so the reaction was most definitely strange.


And then his name.


Frowning deeply and trying to look the bird in the eye despite his and and wing in the way, she began slowly. "You're name is Waldemar... we have been working together for this damn resistance for years. Unless you suddenly developed an attraction to humans, I don't think you have anything shy away from." Then he said something about needing to think things through. Huffing in response, Mirage nodded. "I would considering you aren't making any bloody sense." 


Soon he began clucking madly as if something humorous about the situation had just occurred to him, soon followed by rather... odd set of phrases. Closing her eyes and giving her head a brief shaking, she leaned forward and took hold of the wolf-raven's break. Pulling his face down in a way where she could look at him only centimeters apart (with her torso not being all that distant either.) "Wally, listen to me. By the gods, I have no idea what the hell has gotten into you but you are very much awake and living in reality. Our piss-poor reality. Nothing else of the sort exists. If you've sudden had some mental relapse due to the stress, we can take you to a healer or possible a mage to check if you're under the influence of a spell. But for now, would you mind sobering up?" 


Letting go of his beak, Mirage sighed and leaned back, glancing at the sky momentarily. "It's nearly dawn and we need to get back to camp. If we're not mounted on the damn fish's (OOC: eheheheheheheh I'M DOING IT) wall by the time we say that we failed in retrieving the human legion's orders then we can try and sort this out."


@Morris

 

[Morris]

When Mirage leaned in close - oh, so close - and grabbed into his mouth - alright, beak, whatever - William felt mildly disturbed. Was this going to be *that* kind of a messed-up dream? Gosh, let's hope not. While the notion did not sound all that unpleasant, the thought struck him that he might mutter some nonsense Megan will hear in the real world, and if someone will have moved him to a public hospital by now, then he can kiss goodbye to his last shreds of dignity.


In context of that, it was kind of a relief that she was blabbering of mages, spells, and appearently humans were some enemy of theirs. In spite of Mirage looking almost exactly like one, so she was being pretty hypocritical in that sense. Then again, if this was a dream, things weren't supposed to make much sense anyhow, so he might as well roll along with this lunacy. Who knows? It might make a good plot for a novel of his own should he have nothing better to do after he wakes.


"Alright, alright, gosh, calm thy mammeries, or whatever it is you folk say in these parts." - William put up his hands defensively after Mirage let him go. - "Now listen here... Mirage." - he consciously used her names and terms - "Just so we keep this simple, I'll let you call me Wally, but otherwise please treat me like I'm an amnesiac. Because sincerely, I do not know or remember absolutely nothing about anything in this world. Honest." - and he made his declaration with the calmest, most out-of-place relaxed demeanor possible. - "So, by all means, let's find us that mage you mentioned, that sounds intriguing-"


Next thing he knows, a loud bang resounded from somewhere behind the foliage, and a metallic cartridge inserted itself right into the tree trunk beside him. William instinctively jumped for cover, shivering. - "Bloody hell!" - he exclaimed, trying to figure a way out as to how the heck was he supposed to wrap his wings around so they wouldn't be hanging out in the open. Carefully, he took a glimpse to the direction of the shot, seeing an odd figure trampling into the cleaning.


He was a stalwart man, perhaps in his early 30's, with an unkempt beard, brandishing a sword in an armored right hand whilst tossing away a pistol he just fired, only to pull another from a bandolier holster at a moment's notice. His clothing could be best described as a weird, if stylish mixture of combined features from a puritan colonist from the USA's earliest days, a privateer from the same period, and some swiss papal guard's ceremonial armor. Kind of like some figure from an online game a few years back his colleagues once showed him... Battlehammer Online? Heck if he recalls. At any rate, he did not seem a pleasant fellow: - "Stay where you are, freaks. You both know who I am. My first shot is always a warning. The second never misses."


"Oh bollocks." - William muttered to himself, trying to scout out for Mirage, whether she was safe. Dream or not, he'd prefer it not to take such a sour turn so soon. He tried to strike up a conversation. - "Whatever have we done to deserve this?"


"Shall I start listing?" - the man replied in a tone that clearly indicated his question was rhetorical, cocking his pistol for firing. - "Stop swearing in elvish and show yourself, claws up and all. You too, seal-cat." - that latter part was probably adressing Mirage.


William was trying to regain composure. His wing, such as it was, still felt aching. Most likely he was lying sideway in the real world, with one of his arms tucked under him, or so he wagered, hence it would feel numb here. Just great, first he's in a fantasy world, then he's having a freudian trip, now he's going to have to deal with some thinly-veiled war memories too? That's just not right. - "Sigh... okay, might as well." - he said, and did as the man required.


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

As the bolt buried itself into the tree inches from hitting the Valravn, Mirage cursed and turned to face the very clear inquisitorial agent with a snarl, both annoyed at herself and at how Willy was acting. If the damned fool would just screw his head on straight, she would've at least heard her smelt the man coming. 'If she doesn't turn his pelt into a rug, I will for this...'  she thought bitterly as she was about to transform once again, but paused as a large and noticeably furry figure barreled into view, ignoring the second projectile that embedded itself into their shoulder as they slammed into the steel-clad man. Groaning she cursed beneath her breath, knowing that not only had they been cornered in a rather stupid and bloody obvious position but that the werewolf who had most likely been sent to check if they were alive was now saving their arses. "Just... stay put..." She grumbled before finally allowing herself to shift into the lion-serpent form once more (where he had gotten seal from, she will never know) and make her way surprisingly fast over to the fight that was currently taking place.


The wolf managed to caused the man to stumble back quite a ways with a clear dent in his armor but was, however, still standing. Clearly dismayed by this, the friendly beast would give a throaty growl in his direction, passing a momentarily glace to the smaller yet longer counterpart that dragged itself on their right side. 


@Morris (Just go hit with a huge bought of writer's block 0-0. Got to this point and my mind just didn't want to continue.)

 

[Morris]

Nodding in uncertainty, William agreed to Mirage's request and observed the ensuing struggle from a safe distance. The hunter, whoever he may have been, whatever corner of his memories he could have crawled forth from, was certainly no mere pushover. That werewolf - oh great, yet another addition to this subconscious freakshow! - took the man by surprise, but by reflex and experience, he dodged the brunt of the charge and only got a dent in his plate. He rolled over and knelt up, tossing away his second firearm, now left with his sword only, muttering some mild curses under his breath. Yet both that wolf-person and Mirage, reverting into whatever hybrid she was supposed to be, seemed more restless than confident at this turn of events.


He was about to learn why.


It was only now he took notice of the small talismans dangling from the man's shoulder pads, bandolier and belt, as he grabbed into one of them, spitting his condescending words towards his adversaries as if he was baring teeth, much like a beast himself: - "You rancid mongrels just *have* to force my hand, don't you?" - that circular medallion he got a hold of lighted up slightly in his open palm. Much to his awe, the man cut his hand slightly, bloodying both the medal and his sword - "Be that way. I commit this blade to the rite of cleansing."


The blood on the sword started moving on its own, covering the edges like a thin red line on both sides... then spontaneously combusted into flames, whilst the medal he held crumbled to dust. William watched on with awe. - "Bugger me" - he muttered cawking - "That's really ace."


Unflinching, the hunter measured up his opposition. The werewolf was by far a bigger threat, but if he focuses solely on that lupine wretch, then the lion-serpent might just catch up and go after his legs, tackle him in an opportune moment. Hence he denied that chance: he opened the combat with a wide, low swing, setting the tall grass aflame in a cone, relying on the breeze on the clearing to spread the fires towards the lion-serpent. With that done, he bought himself time to dance around the werewolf, relying on agile footwork... and a secondary weapon - some silvery dagger he pulled from his boot while he was doing the opening swing - to get up close and personal, seemingly unbothered by the fact that the humanoid canine was twice his size and weight.


Had he believed all this was actually real, William would had been curious to interview the man as to what kind of conditioning has he gone through, or what stuff is he smoking between missions, because he could really use some of that right now.


At any rate, the fight was fast and furious, with the hunter exploiting the werewolf's instinctual fear of fire to goad it into leaving itself open as it tried to use the reach of its elongated arms and claws. One chance was all the hunter needed: he sunk that dagger into the werewolf's thigh, and with a clanking sound, the blade split into three jagged parts, and seeping some previously contained venomous substance into the creature's bloodstream. Then he pulled with all his might, leaving a gruesome, gaping wound on his foe, leaping back before the werewolf would crumble from its own weight. He was gasping, somewhat exhausted, but his glare was cold, and as he turned towards William's direction, the notion was unmistakable.


You are next, you bloody wanker.


William gulped, and was beset by an instinctual trembling that he hasn't felt in a long while. He cried out: - "M- Megan! Run, for goodness sake, run!" - and, to show good example, he was legging out of the place, too afraid to look back.


@StoneWolf18

 

[StoneWolf18]

As the tall grass was set alight, she mentally cursed and backed off but still throwing it quite the annoyed roar. Watching the two fight, she grimaced and felt rather awful for the werewolf but was more than inclined to follow as her partner suggested fleeing. Turning and following suit, she groaned as he tried to run out of the area. "Fly you bloody moron!" She exclaimed, making her own way to the river. Arriving at its bank, she wasted no time in diving into the rushing current, hoping the currently mentally handicapped bird would know to follow the river.


Back with the two fighting, as the blade sank into her leg, Vera gave a snarl filled with pain and anger. Yet as she tried to swing her paw out to catch his torso, the man had already moved back and taking a decent portion of herself with him. The toxins he injected beginning to work, albeit slowly, she tried to take a step forward but ended up collapsing to the earth beneath her as the fire in the brush nearby began to burn itself out. Glancing at the wound, it was more than certain she wouldn't be standing straight for awhile. Frustrated while also reeling in pain from the wound, she let out a warped combination between a whine and growl, mind slightly numbing as the poison took effect, but not enough to do any considerable damage. Not more than a minute later, her form began to shutter and then shrink. Fur receding into her skin, limbs becoming shorter and thinning, when it came to the lower half of her body, as her wounded leg had to rearrange the remaining muscle and tendon, it caused even more discomfort that caused a sharp hiss to escape from behind clenched teeth.


Once she finally held a more human form, the woman sent the agent a harsh glare although remaining silent.

In yet another timeline...
​

 
​

A loud crash was heard as was the giggling of a child as a rather odd being sprinted out of the room and down the hall. Cursing at the sound, Vera dropped the blade she was sharpening and rushed to the origin. "Gavron!" She shouted it a clearly agitated tone. "I would prefer some assistance our dammed child!" 


@Morris

 

[Morris]

William distinctly heard Mirage... Megan... whoever, yelling out to him, but the meaning was lost to the anxiety and the background noises. He just wanted to get away from it all, although he had to come to terms with the big lupine paws which his legs now consisted of - not exactly designed for bipedal motion. He ran as he could, clumsily and awkwardly, only to trip over, and try fleeing further on all fours. Before he knew it, he managed to put a good distance behind him; well, what do you know? It just came to him naturally.


Once he felt out of harm's way, he stopped for while to catch his breath. Whew... so what now? He was completely alone, and he doesn't know anything in here. How was he supposed to in a dreamscape, really? He pondered about that for a moment. Just how long was he in here? Well, until he wakes up, he might as well attempt something. Like... use his rationality to shape his surroundings. Yeah, that might just work. That lion-serpent seemed to be nautical, or so he'd have guessed if he was attempting to biologically identify it. So, maybe she slid away to a river. Yeah, let's say she went for a swim. Therefore, he will now look for a river! There was in fact one in proximity to the clearing, if only he could recall which direction it went to... welp. He might as well climb a tree and try to fly. Can't be that hard, can it?


In the meantime, the hunter originally attempted to follow William, but he was worn out by the fight with the werewolf, and with William quickly outpacing him, he was forced to let him slip away. Muttering swear words under his breath, he turned back, going to check on the blasted lupine who held him up. With dawn drawing so near, he couldn't help but take notice of her impending transformation. He watched on with interest as he picked up his firearms and casually reloaded them. By the time the werewolf reverted to her human shape, the pistols were back in their holsters, and the hunter stepped closer, sword aimed towards his prey's throat. Not that she posed much of a threat anymore; her left leg was a mess, and she had a cartridge in her right shoulder. She was writhing in pain, with anguish and scorn written all over her face. Even so, the huntsman couldn't resist taking a lasting look at her. - "I've beheld worse spectacles after a fight, that's for sure." - he remarked as he knelt down. - "I know what you are thinking. Rancid beasts, both of us. Except I don't actually eat people."


It was about then the pursuing outriders caught up. Half a dozen horsemen, crossbows at the ready, halting their mounts as they approached. Their sergeant came forth. - "Agent Gavron? Such fortune! We are in pursuit of two monsters, grotesque mongrels both... um... what about that lady...?"


Gavron Alexander, faithful hunter of the Church of Mithras, broke the details down. - "Saw the creatures. Both slipped by. The lion-serpent took a dive. This woman is a were-beast who held me up. Apprehend her. Also, the avian hybrid had a damaged wing. You might be able to follow his trail if you're quick; he went that way." - he pointed the direction. The sergeant issued orders in accordance; two horsemen went to track the Valravn, two went to follow the trail of the river current, and the last rider, the medic, helped to quickly remove the cartridge from the were-woman and patch her up so she wouldn't bleed out underway to the dungeon. Gavron requisitioned one of their horses, put the woman up, and led the way to the city, whence she would be put under questioning and judgement. - "I'll catch that bird-man the next time." - he hummed to himself.


Said bird-man, in the meanwhile, took a dive down the canopy after an all too brief flight. - "Owie. Bad idea. Why does this dream have to hurt?!" - he complained aloud, oblivious that he could draw attention to himself. Well, at the very least he got a glimpse at the river, so he knew where he should be headed. He lowered himself to all fours, like he did before, took a deep breath, and started running. - "This dream is shite, I swear."

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe... and a different timestream...
​

"Don't talk of your own child like that, Vera." - His majesty, Gavron the first of Terra exclaimed in annoyance as he came up the stairs in his favourite wyvern-skin leather slippers and deceptively simplistic cotton clothing that he usually wore when he went to sleep. Right now, the thing that had his would-be queen vexed came rushing to him, glomping one of his legs. It was difficult to describe as to what this creature was supposed to be. They couldn't even figure out the gender until it - pardon, she - was already a couple of years old. As for how it came to be?


Indeed, how the hell did Vera and Gavron, both stoic, largely sexually uninterested life partners, wind up sharing an intimate night? It's going to be a mystery for all time, because neither of them could remember it. Though even if they did, they would do their damnest to forget. Especially since both of them were fully-grown dragons at the time. It was... complicated. But Gavron was willing to bet half his kingdom that a certain Goldie dragon had something to do with it, what with her apologizing for hitting on him, and telling him that from now on, she'd "ship them", whatever the hell that meant in dragon society. Come to think of it, the barrels of powdered drinks she offered them both were most suspicious in hindsight...


At any rate, the king put up his indifferent facade, like he usually did when he was too tired to give a damn in general, and patted the affection-craving little abomination. - "You are the lovelyest little freak of nature I have ever met." - he sighed. - "If only Maradonia would have agreed to being her godmother. But no, her self-pitying personality crisis had to take priorities. I just hope Florian gets here soon. He said he'll take her for a tour."


@StoneWolf18