Animalia

Name- Art Dunning

Gender- Male

Age- 22

Pic-


Animal influence- Turtle

Bio- Art had difficulties with school and life issues for a long while. His luck seemed to be always against him, missing opportunities by the last second. Things were starting to look up when he scored a scholarship that he used for college. He was enjoying his classes very much, he signed up for an experiment in one of his chosen science classes and the next thing he knew, he was waking up in a cage.


Art had woken up, groggy, aching, and uncomfortable. He found himself in a cage, he had no idea why or if he was even supposed to be in here. No memories came to his mind to ease the confusion. Even though he didn't remember much of anything, he had the increasing sense that he didn't want to be here, and that some how he was different. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, the room around him wobbled briefly and finally settled down. For a moment he stared down at his hands, noticing his fingernails were a complete, opaque black. Huh. Next he registered that he was wearing only some shorts that seemed to be an official garment of some sort.

Looking back up, he took in the room. It looked monotone, sterile, impersonal. And barren. The place was scattered with random little things, like there had been a big scuffle in the room and everyone left in a hurry. There were a couple empty cages similar to his own but empty. On a counter top near his cage there were some clothes that he recognized as his own. On his cage there was a plastic shelf like thing that held a clipboard in it. . Art strained himself a little but managed to reach the clipboard.

Name: Art Dunning.........Animal: Turtle. Those were the only things that stood out to him. Although the animal part confused him. Is that why he was in a cage? He was supposed to be an animal? None of this made sense. He set the clipboard aside and rested his hands on the bars of the cage "Hello? Could somebody help me?" The whole of the building seemed to respond with silence.

That was three days ago.

Art sat crouched with his head in his hands. He had been calling out every now and then into the silence with no response and every time he started panicking just a little. He was patient, he tried staying calm and remaining rational. Panicking never helped anyone....But hunger gnawed at him. He was going to die here in this cage, alone, just when he thought his life was starting to turn around. Panic, desperation, and outrage overtook him and he leaped up, grabbing at the bars and bellowing at the top of his lungs. "SOMEBODY HELP ME LET ME OUT!!" Art dissolved into frustrated roars and shook at the bars of his cage "LET ME OUT!" In his thrashings he jerked the bars inward. He didn't notice them being bent under his hands while he was shouting in futility for help.
 
Garrett was barging down hallways, making left and right turns without paying any attention to where he was going. All he wanted to do was find the girls. He made a left turn down another endless barren hallway and there were a set of double doors, like you would see in a hospital, but they said 18 on them in giant lettering. He slowed only long enough to register the number and then ran through them. When he got through them he found, yet again, an empty hallway with seemingly no life on the other sides of the doors. As he slowed his run to a jog, letting his mind clear from the rampage, he heard a muffled yell. He started going to each door and flinging them open as hard as his powerful muscles would allow, in case there was anyone he needed to pummel behind them. Door after door showed nothing but rooms with computers, or cages, or desks. All empty.

Finally Garrett found the room where the yelling had come from. When he slammed the door open he saw a man standing inside of a cage with bent bars. 'How the hell is THIS the guy yelling for help? He practically let himself out already.'

"Uh...Hi, I'm Garrett. You're another experiment I guess. Have you seen two girls at all? One with feathers all over her and one with armadillo armor?" He realized how crazy his question might sound to someone who was just like he was two days ago. Normal. He laughed.

"I guess first I'll help you out of there, since you seem to want out as bad as the rest of us." He walked over to the cage to help the guy who was more than likely stunned by his entrance.
 
He stared after her for a moment, bemused, before turning to inspect his new quarters. Even Garrett and the others were here, he reasoned, he'd be of no use to them exhausted, dirty and courting infection from the gashes the dogs had given him. He stepped into the hot water of the shower with a quiet sigh, letting the dirt and sweat of the past day run away with the water.

The heat of the shower, though, combined with his exhaustion and his new genes, made him sleepy, and as he stepped out, dried himself off, and pulled on the first pair of clean trousers he could find, his eyelids drooped more and more, until he fell onto the bed, unconscious even before he hit the pillow.
 
She was a smart-ass, that was true. Itwas also good, considering the situation they were in. A "PrisonBreak" of sorts wasn't exactly a carefree and light-hearted eventlike a friendly city marathon. This was something so much moredangerous than he had been trained for – a simple breaking out,because now the entire game had changed. They weren't humans anymore.They didn't know their strengths and weaknesses, didn't know theirabilities as far as these new bodies, and they most certainly didn'tknow if they had anything stashed away for such the occasion thatthey were to check out on their own. Perhaps some kind of mech to mowthem down or nerve gas to purge their "Failed Experiments."

Whatthe girl had practically ordered had suddenly brought Kurt to a halt.But why? This was starting to get annoying as hell. They didn't havetime to stop, but he might as well have busied himself with searchingthe guard as she scrolled through the datapad. Whatever was on it,when she was done and she put it down, Kurt was going to snatch itand take it with him. There had to be valuable data on it, and maybeit even held reports of what specific experiments were used and whatcould be used to reverse the change?

She didn't look as ifshe was going to put it away anytime soon, though, so he simplyshrugged and yanked the vest off of the guard before tossing it toher. The weight of the Kevlar may be heavy to her, but they didn'thave time to worry about it. Kurt knew how to take a hit and keepgoing if it was non-lethal, but as for her, he wasn't entirely sure.After all, she didn't look the military type. If she was, then sheprobably wouldn't have become panicked and would've been able toresist the knee-jerk reactions she exhibited before she wasfreed.

What he had plucked from the officer was another tworeloads for the .38 and different sets of multicolored keycards, eachlikely designating sector areas and paths. At least, that's what itlooked like. But besides the reloads and keycards, he was devoid ofanything else. Wallet, watch – nothing. Perhaps it was protocol incase of a situation like this – protect the families – but it wasstill odd. The only organizations he knew that did such a thing weregovernment agencies, and even they had dog tags. But this one didn't.Something didn't give, and the senses he had acquired instinctivelypulled a growl from his maw.

"I don't like this..." hegrumbled as he slung the guard's body in his cell, then thescientist's. "We need to worry about getting you out first."

With that, and a fluid flick of his hand, his thick fingersflicked to the .38 holstered on his left bicep and drew it beforemoving to the door. His left shoulder pressed hard into the door-sideof the threshold as his head peeked around before taking his firststep out. As he stepped out, his arms brought up the .38 with a quicksnap. Each step he took seemed to be at a running pace due to hissheer height, and when he reached the end of the hall to peek aroundthe left corner, Kurt brought his left hand from the grip to motionher forward under her chest. Hopefully she would've gotten the pointto be fast and quiet, but fast would've been well enough.
 
Kinta looked back down at the tablet and began scrolling through to see if she could find his profile, out of curiosity of seeing what he had looked like before. However, before she could find it, she was hit square in the chest with a Kevlar vest. Caught off guard, it knocked her back on her hind end with a faint yip of surprise. She blinked and looked down at it, standing back up and pulling it on. It wasn't all that heavy, he had just caught her when she wasn't paying attention. Once it was on and adjusted, she tucked the tablet into it and wiggled around a bit to make sure that it wasn't going to fall out when she moved.


"Why are we worrying about me when there are so many others in here? I'm not important," she argued with a frown, watching him move over to the door. It was obvious that he wasn't listening. She sighed and trailed after him, pausing after a few steps to look down. Her steps weren't making any noise, why? It was odd. Her left ear twitched curiously and she shrugged, following after him once more. She was already directly beside him when he motioned to her, so she just put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. Right when she was about to point out the other prisoners again, she stopped.


"Wait.." she whispered faintly, listening hard. What had she just heard? The screech of metal bending. Somebody else was breaking out. That was the only explanation that she could come up with.


"There are people walking that way, I can hear their footsteps, can't you? Come this way," she whispered hurriedly, darting down a deserted hallway without waiting for a response. She was hunting for the source of the metal noises and all of the yelling for help, but the echoes were really throwing her off in those wide halls.
 
They took Ruby's body away. The only reminence of her being were a handful of feathers that were left behind. kendall stared at them, tears slowly drifting down her face as she sat reflecting on the nightmare of her current life. She stretched forward, reaching out and grabbing a long red hawk feather and twisting it in her fingers. I'm so sorry Ruby...

Kendall fixed her hair into a greek godess twist (( it's when you take the two front peices, twist them and clip them in the back. It's a half up- half down)), entangling the feather in the back to hold it in place. She wasn't going to let Ruby die in vain.

Before the scientist had left, he used the collar to take samples of her blood. Sharp needles lineing the inside took small samples and filled the surrounding area with her blood. She had become dizzy and he removed the collar, smiling wickedly.

"you will make a wonderful mother number four..." His last words haunted her. Was that really their plan? Was he trying to scare her into submission? Kendall didn't quiet understand.
 
It seemed panicking had worked in this situation. He had been surprised when the guy had come in, what if there had been people out there all along and all he had to do was freak out, although it took a moment for him feel the surprise. Does that mean they were watching him? Art set his forehead against one of the cold bent bars. The clipboard, the sterile room, the cages, experiment....The guy had told him his name. Garrett. Apparently there were other people who were...experiments.

Art felt numb and shaky as the the adrenaline spike he had quickly started wearing off. He sank to his knees with his head still pressed against a bar. Garrett was speaking but Art barely heard him through the pounding in his ears. He was confused, and he looked like a mess. Three days worth of facial growth, moderately greasy hair. Armor, feathers....Starting to compose himself he looked down at his body once again, almost ignoring Garrett. His fingers were slightly stubby and flat, his skin was leathery and tough. His toes were also stubby and his feet were also a bit stout and flat. Turtle....With his thick fingers he felt his chest and stomach and found that it was harder than skin but still it was flexible enough for him to move with little hindrance. Reaching around he touched his back and found that it was hard there too. No doubt he had some interesting patterns on his back. Which reminded him of clothes, then he re-noticed Garrett. He stared at him for a little while before doing anything.

Art had Garrett help him bend the bars a little more so he could slip through, thanking him wordlessly. He went over to the clothes, his suit, that had been folded and placed on the counter. While running a hand over the clothing he spoke "No-" he coughed and cleared his throat, then tried again. "No, you're the first person I've seen in three days. He started putting the suit on, he wasn't sure why but he felt like it would make him closer to who he used to be, someone he couldn't really remember. The shoes were the last to go on, aside from his glasses. Putting them on made his vision blurry and made his head ache, apparently what ever that had been done to him had improved his vision so he carefully folded the glasses up and put them in his pocket. He looked up at Garrett and actually took him in in detail. Grayish skin, bulky and stout build, crashes through stuff. Wonder what he could be.

"What's going on?" he finally asked "I don't remember much of anything, you said...." Art put a hand to his stomach and groaned, leaning himself against the counter, he felt weak. "Do you have any food? Or water? I haven't had anything in three days. My name is Art, by the way" he added that last part, almost forgetting to introduce himself. "If I can get something in me I could help you find your friends or...something."
 
Why was the girl taking so long? Hecleared the hall, but it was a few seconds later than what would'vebeen comfortable that he sensed her at his side...Then the wrenchingof metal became apparent. His first instinct was – of course – tocheck out the origin of the sound due to his more animalisticcuriosity, but his training said differently. Maybe the guards werewrenching open doors with machines and was heading this way? Perhapsit was another captive trying to wring their cages open to escape? Hedidn't know, and he wasn't about to find out. He had a plan, andgoddammit they were sticking to it, because it was the smartestcourse of action. They had to worry about themselves first as a team,and then if they had enough munitions to pass around, they would helpthe others.

But just as soon as he had thought of this, heheard the girl dashing off down the hall towards the screeching andlet out a quiet cuss from his breath. Immediately he snapped aroundthe corner and began dashing down the hallway behind her, quicklycatching up and attempting to cut her off. If she simply dartedaround the corner with gods only knew what waiting, a bullet-proofvest wouldn't do much for her. Due to the sheer raw, unrestrainedpower behind his every blurring step, it wouldn't take him long atall to cut her off and stop her before she would blatantly divearound the corner to face whatever was there.

When he cut heroff, Kurt held out his arm to stop her and peeked around the corner,grunting as two soldiers began to jog their way down the corridor.Kurt's eyes lock to hers as he growls in her direction.

"Twoguards with AK's..." he spat, seething. "You would've been swisscheese and fucking useless to whoever you were going to help. Useyour head!"

Kurt didn't have time to say more though as hisears picked up the increased volume of the four footfalls that cametheir way. It was almost instantly that he twirled the .38 around inhis hand to snap the butt of the weapon straight out into the throatof the nearest guard about to raise his rifle as he turned thecorner, automatically stunned and backpedaling straight into hispartner. The distinct blasts from the AK's barrel in the secondsoldier's hands give off deafening bangs of pain that nearly
madeKurt double over before he leaped forward. If he thought about thepain now, he was fucked, but it was already beginning to blur hisvision and delay his reaction time...

Which was already whatthe other guard needed in order to counter.

Knowing that hispartner was good as dead due his crushed windpipe from theblunt-force trauma dealt by the wolf-morph's pistol, the guardquickly unsheathed his knife and let his left hand blur forward,tearing through Kurt's shirt, fur, and into his chest. The cut wasdeep enough to sting and make the wolf recoil and clutch his chest,but it didn't delve deep enough just yet to inflict more severeinjuries. Another slash belted from the man as the point of the bladesnapped backward and up in an attempt to spear the tip through Kurt'sskull, but his enormous left hand bolted upward and on the inside tocatch the man's wrist, then duck low enough to clear beneath theman's arm and twist hard. He was rewarded with a series of snaps andcracks that led from the soldier's wrist and all the way up to hisshoulder, and with that reward, he would end the man's pain with theheel of his foot digging into the man's skull once he hit the ground.

But now he had his chest to worry about. The slash that hewas dealt was already leaking crimson life and staining the whiteshirt that clung to his muscled body, and he couldn't help but snarlin the stinging pain it brought. Kurt's furry maw wrinkled as hiseyes dilated, feeling his heart begin to beat to the rhythm of hisprimal ancestors he had been forced to relate, yet the bit ofhumanity he held bit back the bloodlust he felt he was about toexperience and snapped him back to reality. The girl before him wasfriendly. She didn't cut him. She wasn't why he was bleeding. It wasthe men. The two he killed.

So, with a growl, Kurt bent overand snatched up the AK that the nearest Soldier had before tossing itto the girl, then picking up the clips from the man's vest andstuffing it into the pockets of the kevlar she wore now. He thenrepeated the same process for himself, only he had to shove the clipsinto his cargo pockets. Luckily for him, Kurt likely had enoughstrength to shoulder the AK with only one arm and fire since it wasalmost a toy in his hands. The size of the gun was almost comical incomparison to his body, seeming twice as small as what he would needto fit him comfortably. Still, to adapt and adjust was what he wastrained for, and now he damn well had to put that into effect.Starting now.

"Now," he growled as he gripped the weaponin his right hand. "Unless you want to end up like them – becausethey will NOT hold back, you'll listen. Keep up.
"The AK-74U isa soviet weapon – not that it matters – but all you need to knowis how to load and fire it." With that, Kurt disengaged the clipand held it out to her. "First off, you load it with the concaveportion facing away from you and shove it into the receiver." Atthis point, Kurt slaps the clip home and then turns it to its sideand points to the slide. "After, pull the charging lever back, letit slap forward, then aim down the sight so it lines up like puzzlepieces." With that, Kurt then grasped the charging lever with hisleft hand and yanked it back, ejecting one round while simultaneouslyloading another from the clip, then let it snap forward. "Then,press the butt of the weapon between the right side of your chest andyour shoulder, lean into your shot, and fire."

With that,Kurt gave her the signal to follow and lay low as he paced forward,the butt of the rifle tucked into his chest as if it were home as hishead leaned only slightly to the side to watch down his sight. Hisleft hand was pressing against his wound to slow the bleeding, butdoing little effect as his shirt had betrayed the slow spreading ofcrimson. It was a little severe after all, but all that could be donewas escape and hope they could find help...

"And if you wantto help your little friends, we should work on keeping ourselves aliveso this goes faster."
 
Colliding straight into Kurt's arm before she managed to skid to a stop, Kinta frowned and was about to argue when he snapped at her. She kept her silence, her ears lowering a fraction at the scolding. True, she hadn't peered around the corner and hadn't planned on stopping to listen before running. She had assumed that either no guards would be around or that she could avoid detection. As he turned away and fought with the guards, she simply crouched down and watched. No point in getting in the middle of all that since she couldn't lend a hand without getting in the way.


"Duck!" she couldn't help but say as she noticed the faint pause in his actions. She was going to say more, but her voice had caught the attention of the guard and he locked eyes with her for a faint moment just before Kurt grabbed him and began literally breaking him. Flinching back slightly, she watched the end of the fight and growled back faintly as Kurt snarled, feeling oddly cornered. The feeling confused her and she looked around, ensuring that there were plenty of ways to go if necessary. When she looked up, she barely managed to catch the AK being thrown to her. Always graceful, she fell back a few steps and just stared at the weapon.


"I-I can't.." she tried to protest, drowned out by his explanation of how to load it. She watched him closely, more in shock than anything at having a gun in her hands. He couldn't seriously trust her with something that would inflict damage. Sure, they hadn't known each other long, but did she really give off the image of being good with weapons? "But.." she attempted again, following after him quickly after deciding that she had no idea how to comfortably carry something so awkward. She stopped when he did, batting his hand away from his side and eying the wound.


"It's not deep and it's not infected or poisoned," she mused, sniffing curiously without really realizing it. "We? I'm not the one bleeding all over the place," she added, then looked around. Peering inside a doorway, she found an empty room that had a big red medical sign in the corner. "Come in here, we'll wrap you up before we go," she said quietly, opening up the door and running over to the corner to see what she could find.
 
Garrett held out his hands palm up and wide at his sides.

"Sorry man, all I have is whats on me and that's not much. Definitely no food. Let's see if we can't find you some...' He stopped when he heard the sound of gunfire. 'What the hell? Gunfire now? This can't be good. I hope you're OK Kendall.' He turned and looked at Art with wide eyes which narrowed quickly as he furrowed his brow in anger.

"Let's go, we don't want to be around when the guns get here. I have thick skin but I doubt I can stop bullets." He grabbed the guys hand and pulled before letting go and running down a hallway. When he got closer to another hallway he saw bodies. 'Oh shit, this can't be good.' He saw that there was blood drops on the floor heading back the way they had come. He decided that whoever was killing the guards was on his side, seeing as how the guards were more than likely after him.

"I am going to follow this line of blood and hope that whoever is bleeding is the person who killed these guards, and is on our side." He said to Art before he started off. He followed the blood back to what looked like an infirmary door. 'That makes sense.'

"I'm not a guard!" He yelled then took a deep breath and pushed the door open, hoping to avoid any injuries. Either there was someone in there that was going to help him or they were going to kill him. He could only hope for the former.
 
No food, well who walks around toting food in a genetic altering experimental facility? Not the experiments. Art sighed tried to distract himself some way from the vacuum like suction of his stomach. Maybe the facility had vending machines, or a staff room with three day old food laying around. Art assumed it would be three days old, since he hadn't heard or seen anything of anyone up until just now. Art's nerves tingled on the edge of his leathery skin as gun fire ripped through the relative silence of the building. He groaned as Garrett grabbed his hand and dragged him into the hallway.

Garrett was running and Art ran along behind him, his hunger diminishing a little as he distracted himself with the physical activity. They came across a line of blood on the floor which Art smelled before he saw it and Garret said he was going to follow it, thinking whoever was at the end of it were good guys or whatever. Art gave him a weak thumbs up and said "I'll be here" leaning himself against a wall.

The smell of the nearby bodies floated to him and it wasn't so much the smell of blood but of the flesh on the bodies that made his brain think food. Now that he thought about it his face had a slight protrusion to it and the teeth toward the front of his mouth seemed...different, sharper, flatter? As the aroma of meat hung in the air Art involuntarily brought up images of how easy he could use his teeth to tear into the meat. Art groaned again, covering his face before quickly pushing off the wall, briskly walking after Garrett and purposefully looking away from the bodies.
 
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