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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Sept 15, 2009 16:26:39 GMT -5
The forest thankfully muted the frantic sounds of cars and people that Melissa could normally find no escape from. It was barely dawn, but the large cat had been up for hours. The spots dappling her fur were almost invisible in the lingering early morning shadows, causing her to appear one solid shade of grey/brown. Usually she would have raced through the trees extraordinarily quickly, however this morning she'd decided a walk might be a nice change of pace.
Her paws were spread so better absorb the shock of her weight, though by any naturalist's standards she was on the smallish side. Mel hadn't actually been able to coordinate her feet enough to be able to use her bathroom scale in order to weigh herself properly. Her best guess was that she weighed little more as a cheetah than she did as a human, because she was so athletic and lean as an animal. Noting how silent everything was around her, Mel figured that she must be getting close to her destination.
When she'd been grabbing pizza from in town the week before, one of the locals had offered her some unusual information, suggesting that if she wanted to go on a walk with him he'd show her this creepy cemetary only the locals knew of. Mel had been able to tell that by "walk", the guy meant "date", so she'd thanked him for the offer but refused. After realizing that she wasn't going to give in, no matter what he did, the man had moved on to the next girl in line. There had been no time until today for her to check out this “cemetery” of sorts, and Mel was intrigued.
When she’d asked another local about it, the woman had informed her that the place was, in fact, a native burial ground, with totem poles and such. She’d also been informed that it was thought to be haunted by spirits who didn’t like strangers, and that people rarely went there. The woman had also said that it was a very spiritual place, where natives had once gone to find themselves. It sounded like paradise to Melissa, so she decided to go there as soon as she could.
Opting not to take her new backpack –she’d had to throw the other one out- she had driven quickly to the forest edge, following the directions the woman had given her. It was a simple walk down a well-worn path, and remembering what the woman had said about nobody travelling there; Mel had thrown caution to the wind and shifted. It was quicker and easier to walk on four feet instead of two.
As the wooden totem poles came into view, a barrage of noise suddenly assaulted Mel’s sensitive ears. The sudden disturbance caused her to freeze in her tracks and tilt her head to the side. She was keenly aware that the noise was voices, but unsure of what they were saying. I am not a stranger. Indeed, she certainly didn’t feel like one right now, though she’d never before seen the place. The voices were . . . familiar somehow, and comforting at the same time. After a minute or so of concentration Mel was able to somewhat dull the sounds, until they became muted. It was similar to when you are underwater in a bathtub, so that you can feel muffled vibrations, but are unable to make out distinct sounds.
Once she’d gotten the voices somewhat under control, Mel knew that this was going to be the perfect spot for a nap. The voices would dull out any other mental functions she might have had, making thought impossible, and by extension, nightmares impossible. After moving next to a totem pole with a cat symbol on the bottom of it, she carefully folded her legs, instinctively knowing how to place them, and sprawled out on her side, with her back to the wooden pole. It was almost peaceful here, except for the voices. Save for them, everything was perfectly still, even the trees. With the voices swirling like fog inside her head, Mel allowed her eyes to slowly drift shut. Every so often a twitch would appear in her shoulder or feet as a disturbing rogue thought somehow managed to make it's way through the voices, but not often. For once, the nightmares might not be able to bother her. She hadn't figured people into the equation though.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Sept 16, 2009 18:25:36 GMT -5
The one time he had been to the grounds before, Aras hadn't stayed long. He had been seeking some peace and solitude and, thinking that few people would think to wander into a ostensibly haunted area after dark, found his way to the burial grounds. Unlike with the ruins, he hadn't find himself drawn to the place; in fact, it had taken him rather longer to find his way there than he'd expected. He'd attributed that to the imprecise directions he'd been given, but his talisman seemed to believe that there were supernatural forces at work.
No-one had been there when he finally arrived. He had not, however, taken the spirits into consideration. The flitting voices would simply not leave him alone. They didn't even create a the distant, comforting buzz of the voices in the underground chambers of the ruins; these were loud and soft, kind and malicious, and everything in between. He'd left shortly afterward, tempted to give in to the childish instinct to cover his ears with his hands.
Needless to say, the last thing he'd found at the burial grounds was solitude.
But this morning, his talisman was willing to give the grounds another try, even if he was somewhat reluctant. Still, he did not try to wrest control from the vulture as they sailed high above the treetops, searching for the telltale totem poles. The feeling of the wind through his feathers was indescribably refreshing, and Aras was content to let the vulture take them where it wished. They had not had the chance to fly ever since the near-disastrous mission in the forest, for obvious reasons. Neither Aras nor his talisman had wanted to take the risk of flying with a half-healed wing.
With a slight tilt of its wings, the vulture began a slow descent, circling earthward at a shallow angle. From the sky, the tall cedar structures were easily visible, looking oddly naked in contrast to the surrounding leafy-branched trees. A few heavy flaps, and the Lammergeier landed on the head of a thunderbird, briefly mimicking the totem's outstretched pinions before folding its wings against its body.
Indeed, the grounds seemed quieter and less cacophonous this morning. The majority of the voices seemed to be muttering, keeping their voices low. Perhaps it had something to do with the daylight, or that he was more relaxed than he had been the last time he'd come--
--or maybe the ghosts were too busy bothering the other person here. And that person happened to be none other than Melissa (really, how many other cheetah shifters did he know?), whom he hadn't seen since she'd left him at the clinic. Though he knew their paths would inevitably cross again, he'd been doing his best to not think about that eventuality.
Eyes shut and legs folded underneath her, she appeared to be meditating, but she could very well have heard him arrive. Hoping she hadn't--and wouldn't--notice his presence, Aras remained stock-still on his perch, watching the seated figure warily.
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Sept 17, 2009 17:27:38 GMT -5
Even with her eyes shut, Melissa's ears twitched nervously for several minutes before she was finally able to truly relax. The voices were muffled still, but the emotions behind them seemed kind enough for her to fall asleep. A slight breeze ruffled her fur, but she gradually became less and less of her surroundings as time went on.
The same dreams she'd been having for weeks now began resurfacing. The one she'd had that night in the clearing with Caleb was the opening act. Melissa knew right well what was going to happen, but she found herself powerless to stop it. She saw her mother, and ran to hug her, but her mother's body crumpled in her arms like tissure paper. A small noise escaped her mouth in her sleep as the dream morphed into something just as frightening. Now Vicky's face loomed over her with a knife aimed down at her, and Vicky said, "I know where you live, you brat! I'll come back! I'll find you!" Faint wrinkles appeared on her forehead, and her claws slid in and out of her paws once as the stress threatened to overwhelm her, unconsious though she was.
The voices suddenly surged through her weakened barriers, blocking out the nightmare and, by consequence, waking Mel up completely. She untangled her legs and sat bolt upright, glancing quickly around herself. There was nothing in sight. Good. Wait . . . A vulture was sitting on a nearby pole, watching her. Cocking her head slightly to the side, she waited to see what it's intentions were, muscles tensed to spring. Perhaps it had thought she was dead, and had come to investigate. Or maybe . . . it was possible that it was Aras, wasn't it?
No, now she was just being paranoid, and her talisman scolded her for being so stupid as to hope. Two weeks. That's how long it had been since what Mel's conscience called "The Mission". The day she'd gone for a walk at an unfortunate time of day and ended up walking in on the gruesome scene of what apparently had been an attack on or by Aras and Aurelia. So far, despite extreme contemplation on Melissa's part, she hadn't been able to sort out which case it had been.
The entire scene had been extremely confusing, and it had taken some time for her to sort out. She'd lined the facts up in her mind, with a mass of questions attached to each one. Of course, since she'd left the clinic shortly after arriving she hadn't seen either Aras or Aurelia, neither of whom, she was sure wanted to see her again. Still, Mel couldn't seem to quell the hope that was rising in her. Aras calmed her for some reason, he made her feel safe. Still, this vulture could be just that . . . a vulture. She uttered a chirp in the direction of it, before watching alertly to see what it did.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Sept 23, 2009 10:34:55 GMT -5
For a few minutes, the cheetah lay still, breaths calm and even. Her ears twitched and swiveled every so often--probably an unconscious attempt to pinpoint the origin of the muttering voices. So lost was she in her world of dreams that she seemed unaware of his arrival. Maybe he'd be able to slip away without her notice...
Suddenly, her eyes snapped open. With a panicked scrabbling of claws, the cheetah pulled herself into a sitting position, muscles tensed and ready to respond to any apparent threat. Casting her gaze around for any sign of danger--Aras, out of habit, did likewise and saw no-one besides Melissa--she settled down a bit when she believed herself to be alone. For a moment, she looked ready to drift off again, more than willing to let the momentary disturbance slip away like a minnow in a swift creek.
But her glance was eventually directed upward, up his totem pole perch, and to him. They stared mutely at each other. Aras sincerely hoped that she would not recognize him, but the chances of that were almost unthinkably low. Not only had she seen his talisman form before, but Lammergeiers were also, unfortunately, very distinctive birds; though they could easily be mistaken for eagles in flight, it would take no small lack of ornithological knowledge for one to do so at this distance. Never mind the fact that it was an ocean away from its natural range.
The tilt of the cheetah's head and its questioning chirp dashed what little hopes he'd had. Now came the question of what he would do. Melissa would undoubtedly have questions, and more than she'd had the day they'd run into each other near the dock. Taking off without an explanation was a tempting thought, but this town was so frustratingly small that another meeting was all but inevitable. Besides, fate had a way of wantonly tossing him into unfavorable situations and leaving him to fend for himself, so relying on luck would be a rather unwise thing to do.
Still, he was not looking forward to this in the least bit. So he stalled, unmoving, eyes still locked with the cheetah's.
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Sept 25, 2009 19:31:46 GMT -5
As the two creatures stared at each other, Mel was overcome with a feeling of pessimism. So it’s not him. Big deal. Her unimpressed talisman scolded her for being hopeful. It was probably –like they had thought before- a vulture come to see if she was dead yet. The vulture appeared to be tense, or as tense as a bird could appear to be. It had frozen in place, sharp beak pointing in her direction, very tense for some reason. Her amber coloured eyes had been met by dark brown ones, as the bird was staring right back at her too. This made Mel break eye contact almost instantly due to the sheer uncomfortable-ness of it.
The bird was very large, with distinctive markings, but there was no way to tell for certain if it was Aras or not. He was probably still in the Noatak Clinic, recovering from injuries sustained during ‘The Mission’. He hadn’t looked so hot when they’d arrived, but the nurses had told her that he was going to be fine, so she would have to live with that. It had been nice, being able to repay the debt she’d still felt for when Aras had saved her from the bear. She still hadn’t gotten a chance to thank him for it, but then again, he probably didn’t want to be thanked.
She sure hoped that he was okay. Like all times when she worried, her forehead scrunched up, and she shifted nervously. Maybe she should check back in with the clinic, just to make sure. She doubted Aurelia would still be there, but who knew really? Maybe they had kept her for observation or something. Maybe they’d done the same with Aras. Or maybe he was sitting on a wooden pole right in front of her.
She didn’t want to shift back though, so Mel attempted something she hadn’t tried before; speaking in her talisman form. Sure, when Vicky had attacked her, she’d managed to instinctively speak, but now that there was nothing life-threatening going on, she wasn’t so sure she could do it. Or that the vulture would even understand. She lithely moved closer to the pole it was perched on, but didn’t like the arrangement where she had to look up at it. Tentatively, she opened her mouth, exposing sharp, deadly fangs to his view as she tried to formulate a friendly greeting around the razor-like blades.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Sept 29, 2009 18:52:57 GMT -5
She finally looked away, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny. For a moment, Aras hoped that she would just give up, that she would put off or even forget entirely their inevitable conversation. But such a wish was unrealistic; instead of ignoring him, the cheetah got to her feet and padded over to his perch. She had to crane her neck at an uncomfortable angle in order to see him, but her gaze remained intent.
Hesitantly, Melissa did her best to utter some sort of greeting. For the obvious reasons, she was met with considerable difficulty, but it took didn't take much of a stretch to figure out what she was saying and what she hoped to achieve. All right, so she wanted to talk. Short of leaving her behind in a flurry of feathers, confrontation was unavoidable. Either he'd get the chance to explain first or Melissa would come to her own conclusions, whether they'd be in his favor or not.
His talisman gave in with an intangible sigh. Might as well get it over with, it reasoned. Spreading its wings, the vulture pushed off the totem pole and spiraled toward the ground to land a few meters away from the cheetah.
If Melissa thought she had difficulties speaking around fangs, she ought to have tried it with a beak. So instead of trying to formulate some sort of speech in avian form, Aras shifted back to his human one. He took his time about it, too--Melissa could probably see every feather weaving together to form the textured fabric of his clothing--though he knew that stalling would make no difference.
They watched each other, wary and awkward, before he crossed his legs beneath him and sat down. "I won't be able to understand you if you don't change back," he said, a note of resignation evident in his tone.
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Oct 3, 2009 11:15:59 GMT -5
Her intended greeting exited her muzzle as more of a strangled string of chirps and whistles. Upon failing at that miserably, Melissa tried to communicate her feelings with her intense eyes, attempting to convey her relief at seeing that Aras healed and well. He appeared uncomfortable with her watching him in this manner, so she focused her brown-yellow eyes elsewhere for a moment, using them to glance around, making sure that there was no one in sight. She still felt as though someone –or someones- were watching them, but remembering the voices from earlier she wasn’t really worried. For some unfathomable reason, she trusted them. They had made the nightmares disappear.
Her lengthy inspection of the surrounding area had taken several long seconds, but not long enough for her to miss Aras’ transformation. It was actually one of the prettiest she’d witnessed, and that actually meant something now, considering all the types she’d seen now. Caleb and his Sika deer weren’t pretty to behold, Reyes was graceful despite the obvious physical differences between he and his caribou. Aurelia’s was sickeningly smooth, as her flesh turned all . . . scaley. None of them had been like this though, and Mel watched curiously as Aras’s feathers somehow molded into clothes, and his legs became longer and thicker.
In any of the times they’d seen each other, Mel had never actually seen Aras transform. Their first meeting had been the closest, but since she’d almost been passed out at the time, and hadn’t really paid attention to the change, it didn’t really count. Wishing she could go back and change everything, a soft whuffle escaped her mouth. She pushed off the totem pole with resignation, wishing that he’d just stayed in his bird form. She’d been sure that with a little practice she’d bee able to speak. It didn’t matter now that he was human though.
Resisting the urge to hug him –it probably wouldn’t end well, with her claws and all- she moved over so she stood only a few feet away. Surprised at how when she stood beside him she could easily look him in the eye, Mel decided to sit . . . in a minute. Without another thought, her sleek body moved even closer, until she was intruding more than slightly on his personal space. There was no malice in her expression though, and when she touched him, it was extraordinarily gentle. Her rough tongue puckered the fabric as she gently licked his arm, where two weeks previously he’d been covered in his own blood, hoping to convey her gladness that he was okay.
She backed off quickly, unsure of what Aras’s reaction would be. He always reacted different than she expected, a feature of his that intrigued her to a great amount. He sat, and she was surprised. Apparently he trusted her more than she’d thought, for he didn’t seem in the least concerned for his own safety. She guessed though that he probably had his gun on him too, and not even a cheetah would be able to outrun a bullet. "I won't be able to understand you if you don't change back." After talking a seat facing him, she carefully shifted herself, her features molding like melted wax. The most noticeable changes were her elbows reversing themselves with a snap, her scarred and spotted fur forming her clothing, and her eyes regaining their fresh green tint after losing their intense yellow tones.
Her entire demeanor changed with the transformation as well. Where once she would have held his gaze fiercely, she now shot her attention at the ground. Not afraid to speak, she would have been, but now words escaped her. It felt as though all her human troubles had descended upon her again like a lead cloak, and her mind tallied them up in a pathetically long list. The top three had changed dramatically over the past two weeks, with her mother’s death heading the pack, being unable to return to her flat the second, and “The Mission” taking up third place. A quick glance up revealed Aras to have a resigned expression, which didn’t help her self confidence any. With a nervous swallow, she blurted, “I’m glad you’re okay. The nurses said you would be, but I’m not sure if I believed them.” Saying the words quickly actually worked, similar to pulling a Band-Aid off of a cut; it hurt less. Now if only the rest of the conversation could be that painless. To Melissa, it seemed a vain hope.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Oct 4, 2009 23:58:15 GMT -5
Now that he was sitting on the ground, Aras was more or less eye-level with the cheetah. She moved towards him, footsteps all but silent on the cushion of grass and weeds beneath her paws. Stopping a meter or so before him, she held his gaze, examining him without any sign of her usual self-consciousness. He stared back, frowning slightly. It was more than a bit eerie to be scrutinized in this manner by inhuman eyes, especially when said eyes belonged to a well-known predator that was, for the moment, as tall as he was. Besides the frown, he tried not to let any discomfort show, but he wasn't sure how much of was picked up by Melissa. One tended to be more attuned to such things in animal form.
Without warning, she padded over to his side and licked his arm. Her touch was surprisingly gentle and her relief plainly evident. The gesture reminded him so much of his sister's dogs that he reflexively reached over and scratched the cheetah behind the ear. The moment he realized what he was doing, he quickly drew his hand back, embarrassed. This was Melissa, not some friendly stray he’d found (not to mention that her talisman wasn’t even a dog).
Thankfully, she took a few steps backward to give them both some room. Though he was still reluctant to talk to her, Melissa’s concern touched him. Something told him that she had probably been worrying ever since she’d left him at the clinic that day. Now they were even, his talisman insisted. The vulture was of the opinion that neither owed the other anything at this point and that he should stop feeling guilty about, well, pretty much anything that to do with this girl. It wasn’t his fault that she happened to show up at the most inconvenient of times…
But despite his talisman’s pragmatic viewpoint, Aras couldn’t help but feel that this meeting was in no way going to end well.
Facing him, she sat down and shifted back to her human form. He’d seen her transform only once before, and that had been on the mountain, out of fear and desperation. This time, it was much more deliberate, smoother and not quite so syncopated. Fur turned to cloth; her snout flattened, and her ears molded and shifted; her tail shrank, then disappeared altogether. He barely even blinked at the unpleasant snapping that accompanied the sight of her joints reversing themselves. Though circumstances had been different then, it was still obvious that she had since been practicing.
The thing that struck him immediately was the difference in body language. As a cheetah, Melissa's movements had been graceful and sure, exuding a quiet confidence matched by the steadiness of gold-brown eyes. As a young woman, she didn’t even attempt to maintain any sort of eye contact with him. With her head lowered and her stare directed at the ground, hair and shadows obscured her now-greenish eyes. Her words, though far more intelligible than the cheetah’s, came out blurted and stumbled. As a cheetah, she had closed the distance between them without hesitation; now she seemed relieved that they each had their space.
“I’m fine.” He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Aras was glad that she was not looking him in the eye. It would have felt too much like he was being examined—being judged. If she had made eye contact, he might have been the one to look away. “Thank you. For helping me out last time.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line, unsure of how to continue. He didn’t even know where to start. Although she’d been practically bursting with questions when they met near the dock, Melissa was uncharacteristically silent today—which should have come as no surprise, considering the violent scene she’d witnessed that day in the forest. That she still trusted him enough to sit this close was remarkable.
“What about you? Are you all right?” He was stalling. They both knew it.
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Oct 8, 2009 17:08:29 GMT -5
Now that she was in her human form, Melissa felt as though her bravery had evaporated. For some unidentifiable reason, when she was a cheetah holding eye contact with Aras hadn’t seemed so hard. Nor had closing the distance between them. In fact, expressing her relief over Aras’ recovery had been oddly easy. She had been surprised when Aras’s hand had stroked her fur and scratched behind her ear. Her head had tilted by the smallest degree in his direction at the touch, because it had felt so good, and she’d had to suppress a strong urge to purr. An embarrassedly tense moment had seemed to befall them then, before she’d smoothed it over as they resumed their previous distance.
It was most relieving; to see for herself that Aras was actually alright. He seemed physically sound, and that took a large weight off of her mind. There was no valid reason for her to be so concerned, but she felt a sort of protectiveness over him. Perhaps it was because she still felt indebted to him for his mountaintop rescue with the bear, though they were more even now that she’d kinda returned the favour.
It wasn’t painful at all to shift, though the snapping of her joints as they reversed would probably lead others to believe otherwise. Aras didn’t seem in the least disgusted, probably because his transformation made some noises too, mainly as his bones became solid from the hollow state they took when he was a vulture. It was much less hurried than it had been the past time he had seen it, so the transition was much smoother than before, her fur shifting more smoothly into the blue jeans and light sweatshirt she’d decided to wear.
It was good to know that he really was alright, and even better to hear Aras tell her himself. Her eyes remained focused on the ground still, even as he thanked her. “Thank you. For helping me out last time.” With a nervous swallow she glanced up to meet his serious brown eyes, her cheeks slightly flushed. “You’re welcome, but I didn’t really do that much.” It was a lie, and she was a terrible liar, but she wanted to know what he was actually thinking. Anything was better than this guilty feeling she was having in the pit of her stomach.
She internally berated herself for not acting faster. Had she reacted more swiftly, perhaps he wouldn’t have been so badly injured. Melissa’s only consolation was that he was alright now, and that she had helped him reach the clinic, something she was sure he wouldn’t have been able to do under his own power at the time.
“What about you? Are you alright?” Though she knew that Aras was simply stalling for time in order to avoid the inevitable time where they would have to talk about what had happened the last time they had met, it still affected Melissa strongly. The simple question made salty tears rise to fill her eyes. Her wavering vision was re-directed back to the ground again, and she made audible sound for well over a minute. In that time, there was a gentle pattering as three lone tears fell on her jeans. Mel controlled herself with slight difficulties, and with a deep breath her eyes cleared of their own accord and she was able to re-focus on Aras’s face.
“I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean.” It was another lie, and she dodged answering the direct question at the same time. Physically, Mel was completely fine, but mentally she was stretched thin. She had been looking for another place to live in order to be gone before Vicky made good her threat, but so far had had little luck finding one that was suitable. The nightmares only added to her stress and the nap she’d just been interrupted from had been her best sleep in what felt like forever. Everywhere she went, Mel felt like she had to check over her shoulder, fearing that her worst nightmares could become stark realities in the near future.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Oct 12, 2009 2:15:44 GMT -5
At Melissa's modesty, Aras sighed. "I think we both know that isn't true," he said dryly. He would never have gotten out of that forest, much less all the way to the clinic, without her help. She had more than repaid him for that day on the mountain; her humility was unnecessary.
When he asked if she was all right, she didn't answer immediately. She stared at the ground, pointedly avoiding eye contact, and didn't speak for a while. He dearly hoped she wasn't crying. He had no idea how his inquiry would have caused tears, but if a question like that could upset her, Aras didn't even want to think about the effect the rest of the conversation would have.
They sat in tense silence while he waited for Melissa to collect herself. It seemed to him that in their unwillingness to speak, the voices surrounding them grew more talkative to fill the dead air between them. The occasional whispers quickly became a low, constant muttering in an ancient language neither of them could understand. The voices were not malicious, but they contained a certain urgency that agitated him even further.
When she finally looked back up at him, there was moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes. She was no longer crying--if she had been in the first place--and Aras couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. He had always been rather clueless when it came to dealing with emotional distress, and with Melissa this was no exception.
“I’m not hurt, if that’s what you mean.” No, it wasn't quite what he meant, but he merely nodded and didn't bother to rephrase the question. What else could he say? Had she answered in the negative, he still wouldn't have known what to do. It probably would have been closer to the truth, but it wouldn't have made much of a difference.
Their conversation--if it could have been called that--drifted into another lull. This time, Aras was the first to break eye contact, refocusing his gaze on the surrounding totem poles. A salmon totem some meters to Melissa's left drew his eye, and he put far more effort than was necessary into scrutinizing the texture of the wood, nearly completely worn away from centuries of exposure to the elements. And above that, a raven--
Quit stalling. A sharp jab and a glare from his talisman brought him back to the matter at hand. She's almost as bad as you are. We'll be here all day if you don't broach the topic first.
Just because his talisman was right was not going to make this any easier. It took several more seconds of vacillating, but he finally gathered the courage to meet Melissa's gaze once more.
"You... wanted to ask me something," he said, struggling to keep his gaze steady. It wasn't exactly the confident explanation he'd been going for, but it was at least a start.
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Oct 26, 2009 16:01:56 GMT -5
Moving her vision from the ground directly in front of her crossed legs was more difficult than Mel had originally thought it would be. Her instincts were in strong conflict over how to approach the topic. Her human side was wanting only to forget the whole thing, or at the least pretend she'd forgotten it. The other side -the talisman side- desired to be direct and get the answers it so desired by the easiest way possible. By asking him.
While the two sides warred inside her, Mel excluded calmness and a sense of peace that she hadn't felt in quite some time. The voices she'd heard constantly since she'd arrived were still there, and they held comforting notes that were relaxing for her. Almost against her will they made her muscles unknot and slowly her hands went slack, until they ceased their motions. They numbed her pain, removing her from the ocean of emotions she'd been feeling but she nodded acknowledgement in response to Aras's gratitude.
A hiss from her talisman reminded her how rude it was of her to leave Aras hanging like she had been. But, judging from the expression on his face, he wasn't looking forward to this conversation either. Another mental nudge from her talisman, and the voices prompted Mel to respond to Aras’s question. "You... wanted to ask me something." Noting that it was a statement and not a question, Mel figured that she could skip the denial and get straight to what she really wanted to say. Ummm . . . Then again, maybe not.
Hurry up and get saying what needs to be said already! We don’t have all day you know! Her talisman’s uncomfortable pushing only made her wish more to be in her animal form once more, where she was most comfortable. Unfortunately, until she learned to speak through a mouth full of fangs, that wasn’t really an option. She took a deep breath to steady herself and focused on a point just over Aras’s left shoulder. Who was the woman?
Figuring it was best to start with the easiest questions first, Mel refocused on Aras’s jaw, fractionally closer to making eye contact with him again. Ignoring her talisman’s eye rolling and impatient huffs, she took her time before saying, “Do you hear them? The voices?” Hopefully he wouldn’t think she was crazy, but for some reason –perhaps the expression on his face- Mel felt that Aras was hearing something. Whether that something was the same thing she’d been hearing was anyone’s guess, but it was possible at least.
The voices were whispering softly now, but there was a certain urgency in their tone that suggested time was of the essence. What the urgency was about, Mel had no clue; she was just thankful that they had dulled the pain, even if it was only a temporary arrangement. Mirroring Aras’s body language, she made eye contact again, though with much more shyness. Unsure of where Aras wanted this to go, Mel decided to bite her tongue for now. The time before she’d seen him last, Aras hadn’t seemed to appreciate her questions in the least. For that reason mainly, Melissa was extremely hesitant to begin again.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Nov 3, 2009 3:24:22 GMT -5
When Melissa finally wrenched her gaze away from the ground with as much, if not more, difficulty than he had had, Aras could catch hints of the struggle reflected in her eyes. Even if he himself hadn’t noticed, his talisman would have. Furthermore, a few of the surrounding voices had struck up a nervous titter, as if Melissa’s internal conflict were making them uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if they had any emotional investment in outcome of the conversation, so why did they care? There was probably some mystical drivel about ghostly aversion to negative energies, but these spirits had no stake in his and Melissa’s earthly lives.
But after hundreds of years of watching visitors come and go, they probably learned to care. Aras had no idea how long ago the dispute had escalated into war, but the apparitions here almost certainly knew about it if they hadn’t lived through it themselves. Perhaps, living vicariously through their visitors over the years, they had seen too few happy endings. Perhaps, even from the spiritual world, they sought some sort of resolution for those involved in the consuming conflict.
Though she seemed surprisingly serene for a few moments, Melissa noticeably balked when she began to speak. She looked about as keen to proceed with the discussion as he was. Though Aras could understand her hesitation, his talisman shook its head and heaved a long-suffering sigh. Sometimes, he wished that his talisman could directly do all the talking for him. It would certainly make some things easier.
Focusing on somewhere behind him, she took a deep breath and asked, “Who was the woman?” Aras didn’t answer immediately. While he trusted Melissa, she was still dangerously naïve and inexperienced. No doubt she had learned a lot since her unceremonious arrival in Noatak, but there was quite a bit she had yet to learn. As reluctant as he had been to give out details about himself, Aras was even more reluctant to tell her about Aurelia. Melissa would never purposefully say anything that she knew would put them in danger, but there was the possibility that she might inadvertently let something slip. His decision to tell her about himself was risky enough, and Melissa obviously knew he and Aurelia were on the same side. If the komodo-shifter ever found out he was having this conversation, she would probably come after him with that machete.
“We work together,” he said simply. It was nothing she didn’t know already, but he wasn’t going to say any more than that.
When Melissa brought up the voices, the vulture rolled its eyes with practiced impatience. Aras didn’t mind the change of topic, however jarring, and responded with a wordless nod. He somehow wasn’t surprised to learn that she could hear the whispers—after all, even some people without talismans could feel the apparitions’ presence. The voices themselves seemed to react to the question, getting louder, conveying an ever-increasing degree of exigency as the minutes passed.
Their eyes finally met again, and both found themselves at a loss of words while the spectral voices filled the silence. It was too easy to imagine them telling him to get on with it, much in the way his talisman was prodding him right now. Doing his best to ignore them, Aras waited for Melissa to ask the questions she truly wanted answered.
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Nov 5, 2009 15:01:28 GMT -5
This was perhaps the most uncomfortable conversation that Melissa had ever been a part of. Aras wasn't helping matters either, giving her that 'where's-a-black-hole-when-you-need-one' look. Her talisman was rolling it's eyes, obviously labelling her a chicken and being irritated with her for it. Mentally glaring back at it, Mel resigned herself to the ackward conversation. It was going to happen one way or another, so she might as well make the best of it, right?
Aras's vague answer to her first question provoked an eye roll, with Melissa not really caring whether or not he saw it. Her patience was wearing off with no one being straight up with her, except for Ofelia. And since Mel had been so afraid of Ofelia that she'd been scared to ask questions, it didn't really count anyways. Her reaction to his words was minimal.
His wordless nod provoked a more alarming reaction though. At that point, her talisman took control for a split second to utter a menacing growl. It was meant for the both of them, him for not answering properly, and her for wishing to avoid the conversation altogether. Pushing herself backwards, she stood up to get a little much needed distance. "Do all you . . . you 'Hunters'," the word was practically spat out, "live in the same place? So that your masters are able to find you when they want?" The word 'masters' was spoken with a strangely sarcastic tone, almost mockingly. Indeed though, the cheetah was growling out a challenge; let the Hunters try to make them do something. Melissa could clearly feel it's cockiness, and without her meaning it to, some of that came across in her voice.
The question was asked, not out of curiousity, but because the voices had helped Mel decide on a course of action. She wouldn't be safe until Vicky was stopped, so Melissa would stop her. Maybe she'd be able to find someone to help out too, but first she needed to find the frightening woman. And Aras might have be able to help her with that.
Aras seemed nice enough, for a Hunter, and Aurelia had seemed nice enough -when she wasn't eating other human/animal beings that is- but at the same time there was also Vicky, who'd pushed Melissa in exactly the wrong direction. And Vicky more than cancelled out the other two in Mel's opinion. Her feelings about the issue had become entangled with her feelings over individuals, specifics as her mother would have said. She was allowing specific individual emotions to cloud her judgement over the bigger picture.
Turning her back in shame so that Aras couldn't see her face, she ran a trembling hand through her hair. It was difficult to keep the tense energy she was feeling inside, but a deep breath made it easier. When she thought that she had her talisman under control, when it was safe to turn back around, she did so. The cheetah was still obviously present in her, the most obvious signs being her amber eyes and the unusual assertive stance she took. It wasn't going to get away from her again . . . she hoped. "Sorry about that. It's not as calm as I am, and sometimes it gets away from me."
Her eyes remained amber coloured, sharpening her vision, but the tense posture was relaxed for the moment. "I didn't tell you everything about what Vicky said. She . . . she said she was coming back for me, to get me. I can't go home, because she knows where my apartment is." The cheetah stiffened at Melissa's apparently uncontrollable confession. "I need your help Aras. I can't go home because she might be there. But, you're a Hunter." There was a tentative pause before she continued. "Can't I get some sort of immunity or something so she'll leave me alone? I'm so scared she'll come back for me and hurt me." It would have been almost comical, a cheetah being afraid of a badger, but Vicky would probably come with back-up; Melissa had no one, was alone. Meeting his gaze was difficult, especially because of her earlier behaviour, she managed to do it. Heck, begging wasn't beneath her if it meant Vicky would leave her alone.
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Post by Aras|Ofelia on Nov 12, 2009 1:42:00 GMT -5
Melissa was obviously none too happy with his answers, but the only way he was going to elaborate was if she had him held at gunpoint or something equally dramatic. Even the most patient of people would have begun to get frustrated with this conversation, and Melissa was no exception. From her eyeroll, it was plain to see that she had had enough of failing to get straight answers from anyone.
Though before, he was anything but relaxed, Aras tensed when Melissa let out an animalistic growl. This aggressiveness was so atypical for her that he could only assume that her talisman had taken control. Instinctively leaning back when she stood up, he unconsciously put more distance between the two of them. It was oddly uncomfortable—he couldn’t recall ever having had to look up at her. Intimidating wasn’t quite the right word to describe it, but seeing this side of Melissa was somewhat… unnerving.
His expression darkened at her angry words. His talisman hissed, and it was difficult to allow it no verbal outlet. The vulture had quite a lot to say to her, but Aras limited his response to a terse “No.” Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t keep the sharp edge out of his voice.
What bothered him the most was not the harshness of Melissa’s words but the thought that she was, in one fundamental way, correct. His ‘masters,’ as she’d sardonically put it, could find him whenever they needed. Hadn’t he been sent on a mission in the middle of the night just a couple of weeks ago? He was essentially at their beck and call twenty-four seven, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Deciding that he’d rather not be looking up at her while having this sort of conversation, Aras stood. Melissa turned around when he did. He couldn’t see her face, but the hand she ran through her hair was shaky and unsteady. When she turned back to him, she appeared to have calmed down somewhat. A closer look revealed that her eyes were the cheetah’s amber, but at least she wasn’t snapping and growling as her talisman seemed wont to do. While she hadn’t reverted to her normally introverted self, her apology sounded sincere enough.
Aras relaxed a fraction—until she brought up Vicky. He was of the opinion that she was a mood-killer when mentioned in any way, shape, or form, but Melissa’s situation was evidently more serious than he’d thought. Vicky had a reputation for being dogged and obstinate, but he hadn’t realized that she was so determined to go after Melissa, of all people. And she clearly went about it with all the subtlety of a brick.
Unfortunately, he was the last person she ought to be asking for help. He held no sway within the Hunter ranks; even if he did, he doubted that anyone short of an Elder would be able to grant anyone immunity. Both the Innocents and Hunters needed all the help they could get, and they would not let a potentially useful talisman go merely because she and a few others wished it.
“I wish I could.” He looked at her apologetically—or was it helplessly? He couldn’t really tell. “I don’t have any influence.” Quite the understatement, but there was no way in hell he was going to explain his situation to her. “Can’t you find anywhere else…?”
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Post by Melissa|Tristan on Nov 12, 2009 16:45:05 GMT -5
It was beyond maddening, the way Aras's face seemed frozen in place, expressionless. Melissa said nothing for a short while, since it seemed her best option for the moment. She was still worked up, thanks to her talisman, who was only feeding the blazing fury that was her anger. If someone had asked, she wouldn't have been able to pinpoint a specific thing that had pushed her to be so angry; it was a combination of many things, and Aras had just been the spark that started the fire.
It tempered slightly, mostly because of Aras's expression. He didn't look frightened persay, but he did look nervous. If she hadn't been so angry Mel would probably have laughed at his expression. It was one of the few times someone had looked at her with any degree of uncertainty or nervousness, as though she was . . . dangerous. Of course, Mel would never even consider hurting Aras, both because he had saved her life once, and because whether he thought of her as a friend or not, she thought of him as one.
His expression became less nervous and tense, and more angry. Finally, he reacts! It's about time we got something from him. The talisman's smugness wasn't helpful to Mel's attitude, so she ignored it for the time being. It was difficult, as the cheetah refused to shut up, mentally smirking at Aras's now cloudy expression. His tight, "No." didn't help the cheetah either, since his anger was plainly evident in his tone, for which the cheetah happily took responsibility.
"No? Then how do they find you?" The cheetah was pushing her now, wanting so badly to take control, but Mel pushed back, trying to keep it in check. It was difficult, for they had never before conflicted this badly; most of the time their opinions travelled on similar paths. The cheetah's prescense was made obvious by the roughness in her voice, and she cleared her throat after speaking in the hopes that it would clear her of her talisman's connection. No such luck, unfortunately.
One thing that both Melissa and her alternate identity caught was the look in Aras's eyes at the word 'master'. It was one that Mel instinctively was telling her that she was close, if not exactly correct. "Why would you choose to serve them?" The word 'serve' was spoken in much a similar way to the way 'master' had been. "How could you let them tame you, force you to do . . . well, the things that you do?" The second question was forced out by her talisman, against Mel's will, but it was out there now. She had edited the end so that it didn't sound quite so rude, but there was no telling how Aras would take it. His reactions were almost always a surprise to her.
Aras had been relaxed for about a minute . . . until she mentioned Vicky that is. The muscles in his shoulders subtly tensed, and Mel knew then that there was no friendship -or anything else for that matter- between Vicky and Aras. Perhaps that would work out in her favour. “I wish I could.” The cheetah was slightly appeased by his expression, noting the stressed look in his eyes, as though their problem bothered him. Of course, it could all simply be a big act, a performance that they were supposed to believe, but Mel always thought the best of people. No matter how sinister their intentions, she always trusted someone until they gave her reason not to; it was just her way.
She was about to protest, when she almost choked on her own words. It was a possibility, however she didn't want to leave Noatak. Being in a small town allowed her to fly under the radar, and moving to the city would only make it that much easier for her father to locate her. Seeing as she'd already been recieving phone calls from him on her cell phone, she didn't want to let him find her. He wouldn't understand what she'd been going through since the day of her first transformation.
"I wish I could." She echoed his words, still distracted by his statement that he had no influence. As much as the cheetah didn't want to believe it, Melissa was becoming more and more convinced that Aras wasn't acting of his own free will. Everything he'd said up to this point had been as objective as a third party's opinion, something that a warrior passionate about their side would never be. He wasn't offering any clues however, and she wasn't about to ask him.
FINISHED!!
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