Union of Differences

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Dia Thames, Aug 1, 2012.

  1. He didn't know just how much more he could take of this place. Living here was horrible. Cercie was born here...about nineteen years ago and every minute he had been alive he had wished he wasn't. It didn't seem fair at all that he was born the way he was. How unlucky that amung the billions of people that lived and died on this planet that he had to be one of the ones that was born on this camp...as a werewolf. About fifty years before there had been a huge, world wide war that was issued by the humans. Werewolves, his people, had tried to stay out of it. The problem was really with Vampires and humans but the leeches has dragged them into it. Something probably would have happened anyways but not anything as bad as what they were enduring right now. The man looked over, wiping the sweat off his brow and digging the shovel into the earth. He sighed and bit his lip seeing his neighbor worker collapse to her knees, a woman in his father's, now father's friend's pack, who had just given birth the night before. The baby was now with the nurse who would cuddle and spoil the child until they were old enough to work. Work usually started at the age of five years of age or so. Then it would become a living Hell. The younger werewolf held his breathe and started to dig faster. They all had to help dig a grave for those who had died in the recent heatwave. Out here in the middle of nowhere it was usually hot but many had died as of late.

    Then a gaurd came over and started to poke, prod, and harass the woman to pull herself togeather and get back to work but she could not. Cercie listened as he pulled out his slick, smooth, cold silver and then put it to her head, shooting her. The man clenched his jaw and pushed himself harder. It was the only way to survive here...work though you were exausted and starving. Human's treated anyone who was biologically different than them like garbage. He hated it...but he had to keep his anger in check or else it would end badly again. First time he had shifted in front of the gaurd's it had earned him a deep scar across his chest and a minor scar on his leg. It wasn't only his anger but the other emotions as well. Expressing emotions would earn his a beating for sure. As they dragged off her body the sun was setting and he could hear the dog whistle sound. They were high pitched and hurt a werewolves ears because they had such excellent hearing. Cercie moved to where he was supposed to go, the cage areas where they would be cuffed with twenty percent silver blend hand cuffs. It was painful to sleep but somehow he had managed.

    Tonight something seemed off though, but it wasn't bad. As he was heading back to the cages there was an opening. Usually there wasn't...and he didn't knew exactly what he meant but he had to go for it or there wasn't nothing left for him. No one was out there trying to rescue him...so it had to be now or never. The Werewolf took off and made it though the opening. Once he was off though gaurds noticed and then then entire time he was hiding though the desert around them. He was being chased. But once he hit the tall buildings and ally ways he was in the clear, looking around for a secure place to stay but trying to stay cautious at the same time.
  2. She tossed the paper into the trash bin as she walked out of her office and into the staff room. Yet another issue glorifying the human race and what the war had done for mankind. Really, she didn't have a stance on the whole thing, being a government official, but sometimes hearing of brutal murders got old, even for a government official such as herself. Shala had been recruited young and just settled. They made sure she stayed out of the camps and she behaved in her office job nine to thirteen hours a day, tapping away on a keyboard to various people throughout the world. Almost time to go, according to the clock. In imprisoning vampires and werewolves, the higher government employees had made life rougher on the citizens, who'd all been interacting with the more covert of the supernatural creatures that were now contained in camps everywhere in their country, among others. She poured coffee, in need of a break from staring at a white screen for hours on end, and she got it. Two minutes passed and then it was back to work, styrofoam cup in hand. The woman really just wanted to go on active duty instead of hiding behind a desk, but that wasn't possible at the moment. No openings, and no partners if there were.

    When the call for release came, Shala was the first one out the door, coat in hand and box of files under her arm. She knew far more than she would ever let on to her supervisor, because knowledge was a scary thing in the wrong hands, and certainly not a good excuse for a promotion. Walking down the stairs and out of the building, she looked around at the bustling city. The sun was barely visible over the horizon, and the street lamps had come on, one by one, as she walked toward her small apartment. People walked slowly, window shopping for the latest piece of consumer technology or the toy their child wanted for their birthday, or whichever other holiday was coming up. Vendors were on the sidewalk, selling things on sticks or in little paper tubs. She kept walking until she turned onto a new block, out of sight from the hustle and bustle of their down town area. The sudden change in atmosphere was enough to tell that it was residential, the barking of dogs and the occasional wailing child setting them apart.

    Three blocks later, she decided to take a short cut through an alleyway and upon emerging saw a man. A brow quirked and her head tilted slightly, black ponytail flicking her cheek in response to her sudden gait change. "Are you okay there, sir?" She asked gently, coming up before him after regrouping. It wasn't often you saw someone new around, and something about him screamed new to town. She was patient in waiting for a response, hoping she hadn't caught the man too off guard in her attempt to be friendly. Her social skills were wired for international affairs, not chatting on the street. She shifted her box to her free hand, shrugging on the jacket so it'd be one less thing for her to carry.
  3. Cercie had a hard time escaping from the brutal desert that was somehow so far away from civilization. He would have guessed as much though since from their time of birth they were considered dangerous Animals. The werewolf did not really understand just what made them more dangerous. Humans were just as dangerous if not more so...and humans too were animals...warmblooded just like them. As he ran though the sands the dog tag on the chain jingled around his neck. It was a marking that served the same purpose as a domestic dog tag, to find and return the animal from whence it came. For him it was Camp B-3A Outer City Limits High Security. It Also contained information like: Pureblood-PureBred ; 03-12-17. That indicated where he came from and if he was transformed or born this way. Cercie was of course born a werewolf...both of his parents having a similar origin. Then it was his Birthday, December 17th, the 03 saying he was the third person registered for the camp with that same Purebred Lineage and birth date. As much as he wanted to take off the chain he couldn't for some reason or another. He slipped behind one rock hanging for awhile before entering the city once the people who were chasing him moved on to search else where. The man sighed in relief and slowly snuck into the city. It was a big place...the buildings tall and strange. None of the buildings on the camps or what they liked to tell lower government officials "The Settlement" were ever this tall. As he slowly moved through the streets, sneaking quietly he examined his surroundings. He knew hardly any of these things. What they were told at the camp and what was real were completly different. Then again the "Field officers" or the "Gaurds" never told people exactly what happened to werewolves or vampires on "The settlement". If people did remember the exsistance of the supernatural creatures they assumed they were living a just as privlidged life as they were.

    But the truth was very different despite people thinking the whole situation as "Seperate but equal". Cercie did not believe that those two could exsist at the same time. Figurtivly speaking: "A house divided against itself will fall". Otherwise history could not continue on like this forever...but it could for an aweful long time and anymore time that his people had to spend there was much too long. As he wandered into a group of what he assumed were houses he was caught up with and onto again. His dark shaggy hairfell out of his face as he ran again, seeking a place to hide from his captors. It was a good thing that night was coming as well...he loved the night as a person and as part of the pack. It made them stronger and faster...now he would be able to experince what it truely was to have any degree of freedom. His darker orangish colored eyes caught any traces of light there were left and darted into a side street,All of a sudden the healthily tanned man stopped in his tracks, seeing a woman before him. It was not often he saw a girl...female werewolves were kept seperate and only the lucky few would get to see them during the spring when they allowed a few to breed...according to the amount of the dead. If nine had died that year 5 were allowed to breed but that was an unsually high number. He just stared into her eyes, his full of curiosity and caution...panic as well. The female had long dark hair and was carrying something. She spoke to him, asking if he was okay. Okay...? No, no he wasn't. Cercie shook his head, taking a step back. He then heard footsteps coming closer and closer...looking like he was going to be forced towards the female. Normally he was to show respect to her and not speak but this time he did. His voice was the perfect pitch, but a bit soft almost as if he did not use it very much.

    "I would go if I were you...there are gaurds and they are not happy..."

    He took off, running past her at an inhuman speed, darting off and disappearing into the backyards of the very humans that depised and imprisoned his people.
  4. Brown eyes cast a cautious glance over this stranger, absolutely confused by his sudden appearance. He was tanned, his hair shaggy rather than cut in what most men thought was a proper fashion. His eyes were.. orange? Now, that was certainly odd. It was a coined mark of the supernatural, but really she didn't care at the moment. Serving the people of the world would just have to wait until she finished conversing with him. She wasn't going to turn someone who had managed to get this far away in, at least not unless he was some kind of murderer. She shook her head softly. Shala was really in over her head this time if she wasn't completely careful with how she interacted with him. The heavy footfalls of boots and surely armed men was enough to warn her of what was on it's way, probably tracking the man before her. His words struck a chord with her, a playful smirk crossing over her face as she watched him run off, faster than she could ever hope to be. Hand shoved into her jacket pocket and she flipped through the papers before a guard stopped before her.

    "Now, is that really any way to treat a citizen of this great country of ours?" She quipped, jaw tensing. She didn't really want to be knocked away by the brute, but she was good at talking, and she was relying heavily on that for now. A sudden feeling of protectiveness washed over her and her identification as a government official, as well as her license were shown. "The guy you're after? I saw him two blocks down the road." She said, and when they started to move around her, she rolled her eyes. "In the other direction. There is a reason you're a guard, isn't there?" She asked, and then smiled brightly, continuing down the road on her walk home. Her pace slowed considerably, mostly because she wanted to see if he'd reemerge, now that everyone was running off on a wild goose chase. It was just a natural thing to deter idiots. They would get over it soon enough and just keep an eye out for him. Of course, right now he was priority number one, as if the press got ahold of this, the camps would be under a lot of scrutiny if the break was made public.

    "Hey, escapist. You're safe now." She called, once the men were out of hearing distance. She shoved her documents in her pockets, not needing him to think she was just going to take the credit for finding him. If men were that easy to redirect, they deserved to be reemed by their supervisors. They would be, too. She'd heard horror stories from the many reassignments that had taken a few months in her office before moving on to retirement and focusing on their families, or whatever it was political agents did when they were discharged from active duty. She dawdled, her shoes scuffing at the concrete, having to doubt that he was going to come back. He was probably long gone by now, running off into the countryside with hopes of blending into a community that wasn't so directly related to the Camp B-3A and all the lovely workers that came along with it.
  5. Cercie locked eyes with the woman. She had remarkable brown eyes they he could not take his eyes off of. He had never seen brown eyes. Orangish and amber were usually the colors, the gaurds having either blue, grey, or green. But after he had to make a run for it he broke their eyeline and slipped off into the trees, bushes, and grass. It was so...green for people to be living here. The plants seemed healthy, lush, and moist. Out at the camps everything was dry, hot, and dusty. Baths were a high powered hose that usually hurt and brusied them as they were quickly washed down...water being a crucial resource. The werewolf did not make it past the first couple of yards before he heard her voice. She began talking to the gaurds as they all stopped, heavy food steps stopping. The werewolf froze in place, the cool night air creeping into the environment and sending chills through his body. They were so close but could not sense him. He creeped back towards them so he could hear their converstation more clearly then he already could. The werewolf stopped, behind the hedge at the end of the ally way. The woman asked the gaurds if they were treating citizins of the country correctly. Thye just stared at her until she directed them the other way, oppisite in which the way he would ever go.

    Once they disappeared she spoke once more...telling him he was safe now to come out. Cercie was not exactly sure if he wanted to come out. He didn't know who this female was or why she was helping him. One look at him should have told her that he wasn't human but yet still...the man couldn't help but be curious. Slowly he pushed his way back out into the side street, looking at her once again. He could smell her scent and it was nice...calming but not overwhelming. Slowly, Cercie took a few steps towards her the paused, looking her in the eyes. There was a wild look about him but he didn't seem too much like a wild animal.

    "Why...would you help me...?" he asked then waited for her to explain. "Then...hide me...keep me hidden. I don't...want to go back..."

  6. He seemed a bit stunned by her, but that was to be expected. Everything she'd been taught going into her career told her that she needed to make sure that he was caught as soon as possible, but she had never been one to serve anyone over herself. She was a bit unhappy with the idea that he'd managed to escape, and now she was just calling for the just punishment that should be placed on the shoulders of the men that had let him into the city. If werewolves and vampires were as dangerous as the rumors stated, he could have been killing just about anyone that passed on the street. Because he had yet to try to kill her, he wasn't an immediate threat to herself or the folders under her arm. He had yet to come back out, so she wasn't too convinced he would return, not with the idea that she could easily be tricking him out of his newfound freedom. The orange eyed fellow had no reason to trust her, and she hadn't even offered to give him her word yet.

    He walked back onto the street she was waiting so patiently for him on, and she studied him for a moment. He was certainly unkempt, but no more so than any other prisoner she'd seen in the past. All of them had been pictures, making the idea that they were keeping entire races hostage a bit less afflicting with morals that they all had, no matter what they liked to tell people. He was just as human in looks as she was, if you could see past the oddly colored eyes. "So what are you, then? Werewolf or vampire?" She asked, seeing as she wasn't an expert on the two, and had never spoken to any before.

    He asked a good question, and she shrugged. "I'm helping you because you escaped. I may not be there first hand, but not once have you tried to kill me yet, and if you keep at it, I have no qualms about helping you with your little escape. It's one less person I'm expected to pay taxes on to feed." She told him and then when he told her to keep him hidden, she nodded. "Well, come on then. Hidden in plain sight doesn't work if you have orange eyes." As an afterthought, she asked. "What's your name?"
  7. As he stepped back onto the streets she looked at him in the eyes. She must have been one of the humans who knew who about the exsistance of Werewolves and Vampires. He knew this from the way he looked at her...and this made him wonder how she knew. She must have some role in this and this made him tense and even more cautious. She then asked him if he was a werewolf or vampire. Cercie was not sure if he wanted to tell her...or even if he should tell her. If he did tell her what would she do with that knowladge? Perhaps she was just going to take the credit for capturing him. Aftere all no one had escaped since Aldwin the oldest living vampire at this point. They had commited general genocide with the vampires killing the ones they could so they didn't have contain so many. In someways they were more dangerous then werewolves so keeping them was harder. One night he heard gaurds chattering about their feast that out at the Vampire camps gaurds were constantly replaced when the ones out there were attacked and killed. And killed was a general term...now a days when Werewolves and vampires changed a person humans considered them dead. The werewolf remained silent before asking why she was going to help him. Her awnser suprised him. She said plainly that it was because he had escaped and that he had not tried to kill her.

    Cercie blinked, confused. Why would he kill someone who had never met let alone someone who had never done him wrong. The female must have heard the rumors that they were savages...monsters. A small frown formed on his lips, this didn't settle too well with him. Sure there were monsters amung his people but he was not one. Atleast not yet and he would if they pushed him much further...he was going to do his best to not let himself reach that edge. When she spoke of paying taxes he was even more confused. Quietly he asked:

    "Taxes...? What Are those...?"

    But after that he asked her to keep him hidden from the people who wanted him to go back to that Hellhole. There was no way that was going happen and the small frown disappeared when she said she would help him. Then she told him to come with her, that hiding in pain sight wasn't going to work, especilly with his eyes. The young man bit his lip. He wanted to be hidden but she was a human and trust was going to be hard to come by. He sighed then came closer to her as she asked his name. When he was closer than his comfort to her she asked his name as well. After thinking things over for a few long moments he spoke again...usually forbidden in the presance in a human.

    "My name...? Well...they called me Cercie is that counts as a name. And I am werewolf...of the pack being held against their will at camp B-3A...All my information in on my tag..." then he asked hesitently, bracing himself almost as if he expected to be beaten. "Who...are you human...?"
  8. She wouldn't have balmed him had he just told her to get lost, but he would have to face the fact that she was his only hope of getting away without a scratch. Of course, that was assuming that so one came to contact her, and she suddenly wondered if presenting an identification card had been in her best interest. Now she was easily traced, if any of the men had thought to look at more than the fact she was indeed a badged member of the government and carry on with their search. He didn't seem completely convinced that she held no ill will towards him. At the moment, she didn't have a reason to think he was going to hurt her, he seemed far too innocent. Shala had a tendency to trust the least deserving and get only good things in return, so she hoped that would be the case with this mysterious man that had wandered into her path unknowingly. She hated to think of what could have happened to him had she not appeared, because while he had speed, there were more guards and, by default, more strenth. It was how they were chosen, and it was a known fact that you had to be a little dim witted to accept a job that required you to work around people that probably wouldn't like you very much by the end of your training period. Roughness was coined as necessary now, and she doubted that there would be nearly as many deaths and failed uprisings if people were treated fairly.

    She realized she'd spoken of yet another thing that he probably would know very little, if anything, about at all. She smiled and then shrugged. "If you live in the city, there is a tax. They take it from your pay. It funds government programs, and that basically means that I've been paying for one werewolf or vampire since last year, when I was hired on by the government." She explained, hoping that hadn't just caused more confusion for him. She knew they were given jobs there, but she didn't know what the positive reinforcement was for that kind of thing. Probably not being killed. She winced at the thought.

    He came closer, and while he was hesitant, she decided they were making good progress. He wasn't shying away from her as she rambled on and on about things that he probably couldn't care less about, which was a lot more than she could say for the majority of the population that were human, and especially males. They were still holding onto the belief that she was below them because they were male, though her intelligence was a good equalizer for their ability to push the people they didn't like around. She shoved the thought from her mind, waiting for him to tell her what he wanted to be called, or at least what he was used to responding to.

    "Yes, those tags. I do suggest taking them off in public. People here don't wear them unless they're government." She said, pulling her own tags out. It was just standard issue, stating which post she was for, just in case she should ever be caught without her papers. "Anyhow, my name is Shala. Cercie, welcome to the free world. I think you'll come to find it's probably nicer than B-3A, but the rules are just as strict." She told him, and then began to walk, hoping that he would just follow her like she wanted him to.
  9. He cocked his head in confusion as she started to explain what a "tax" was. She said that the humans that lived in the city lived under a tax. That the government officials took money, whatever that was, to fund their evil programs. The werewolf was guessing that it was probably important to living in the city...to have money. Having lived at a camp his entire life he did not know what alot of this human stuff was. It was rather confusing...all these objects that he didn't know what they were. The man was going to have to learn if he was going to fit in with the humans. Then she snapped him back to attention when she told him that she was basically by paying money to the government, she was feeding one werewolf or vampire. The man couldn't help but scoff at that comment. If that was true then they would be eating much better then they did. If only she really knew what was going on at the camp. And unlike humans it seemed, the only payment werewolves and vampires recived was a place to sleep (very uncomfortable not to mention) and the chance to live. The males like him seemed to live the high life at the camp compaired to the females. Females were often abused in multiple ways by the male gaurds, taking advantage at how weak the diet seemed to make them. It made him sick and he hated it. Nobody should be treated that way and it didn't matter who they were...unless they were the ones abusing and beating people.

    After a few moments he told her of his tags and she told him that he should take them off in public. That the only people who wore them in public were govenment offcials. Then the woman pulled her own tags out showing him. After that she told him her name was Shala. It was a good name...he liked it for some reason that he didn't know. But what yet again suprised him was that she welcomed him to the free world, telling them that there were just as strict but different rules to follow here. He nodded and followed her as she began to walk again...which he assumed was towards her house. As they walked he spoke softly...not wanting his words to fall on anyone's ears but hers.

    "I...really don't know what they are telling you but your "money" whatever that is...is not paying for anyone to eat but the gaurds. They eat several hours before us then throw us the rotting scraps of their meal. It is a competition to stay alive out there...there is a reason I am so thin. And about the tags...I can't take them off. They once every few days stick us with this sharp metal twig or something that makes it hurt even worse then normal to touch silver. We are okay to wear it but touching it is like...acid. It's like a dog tag that domestic dogs wear....so they can return us to where we are supposed to be..."

    Then he heard something once they were getting closer to where they were supposed to be. It was coming up from his side. Once he dashed by he jumped to the side and looked over to see something moving as on the street. It was red and had lights on the front and wheels moving it along very fast. It startled him and he tensed looking panicked. A deep growl came from his throat...intimidating to anyone who would have heard it. Instinctivly his eyes narrowed as well. Cercie glanced back over to Shala, not knowing how to respond to this device. After it disappeared he hesitantly started to follow her again...wanting to find shelter as fast as possible.
  10. So, her attempt at explaining tax was not as well received as she'd hope it would be, and the fact of the matter was, the government was keeping more secrets from the public, and in this case even some of the less important personal employees. She was more involved with covering people's actions up with lies and diverting the stress from her supervisor, so she never had been around the camps. Probably a good thing, because she may have 'accidentally' left a gate open or something else that was equally poorly planned and could cause lives of both guards and prisoners to change dramatically, and not always for the best. Escapees that were caught were normally killed or brutally punished, and the guards could die or be changed. She didn't know which would be worse, but she supposed it'd be the latter, because they'd be immediately imprisoned for the fact that their race changed. He didn't seem convinced by her comment about paying for one of the prisoners around the world, and her brow quirked, but she didn't try to ask him about it, at least not right now. It wasn't like she couldn't ask him this when he was settled into her home, which would probably become a semi-permanent residence for the werewolf, unless he chose to move on and get away from her. Not that she'd blame him, trusting one of the ones who'd been the reason for his discomfort in his life had to be truly difficult. She just wasn't sure that he had any other choice.

    They walked and she remained relatively calm, not wanting to have any passerby think there was something off about the new stranger, and she offered the occasional smile and nod. When he began to speak, she glanced at him before navigating around a trashcan, and then a light post. His words came as a shock that there were no words to describe, and she was just that much happier to know she was helping one of them escape that. It was the best she could do at the moment, and certainly something that couldn't be mentioned in everyday office chatter. She gnawed her lip, a nervous habit, and heard him out.

    "I'm terribly sorry on the behalf of my mess of a country. Never really heard that part of the story, but I'm sure you can tell that much." She told him, making a face before she nodded thoughtfully, wondering how they were going to get around that little problem. Perhaps if she took it off? That was a possible option, otherwise they would just have to avoid them managing to get out from under his shirt. If people were to read them, there would be a serious problem. "We'll have to figure out how to work around that little problem." She told him and then flashed a smile in his general direction.

    The oncoming car wasn't something she even regarded with a second glance, but he was not used to those either. He'd be needing a crash course on all things human before she could let him out into the real world, and it was probably for the best that it was dark, or people would probably have seen more of his moment of being terrified. His growl did put her off a bit, but she brushed that aside, guessing it was a defense mechanism. "Cercie, that would be a car. It's the fastest mode of land transportation here." She assured him. "It's as safe as anything, just don't walk out in front of them. Getting hit by them hurts, or so I've heard." She told him, and then took the last few steps and was at her door, unlocking it and walking in, leaving it open so he could follow her when ready.
  11. The cautious werewolf followed her though the neighborhood. He looked around, trying to identify anything he might know. The buldings on both sides of the streets he knew must be houses, where the humans lived. But what he found strange was they way they were decorated. The plant life infront he knew was grass and was not dangerous. He had never felt it but it looked soft...well softer than anything he had never sat, stepped, or laid on. Then along with fresh, green grass some of them had flowers. Cercie had only ever seen pictures of flowers like these. From where he was he could smell the scent of them from the flower bed. It was a pleasant smell...light and airy, not too overwhelming. He liked them...they also had a graceful look, though it was almost too dark to see. Well too dark for humans; as a werewolf he could see better in the dark. But they were nice...it wasn't an overwhelming like but it was more like relief. They were more refreshing to the eyes then the harsh, dry desert sands. Besides that he saw clear objects on the side and fronts of the house, allowing a peek inside. There were also decortations that made the house more appealing. Somehow he was going to have to learn about all these things so he could fit in with the humans. As he snapped back to attention she told him she as sorry on behalf of the country, that she had never really heard everything that was really happening. Of course she didn't, that would violate the ethics code that was abandoned long ago. Established but never really put into action.

    Then as he saw her flash him a smile he reacted to the car. He tensed up, growled, and moved away from it as it passed. To have a moving piece of metal that was fast made him uneasy. He, of course, had never seen one of those things before so he was trying to evaluate weather he thought they might be good or bad. Then Shala spoke and told him that it was called a car, and it was a form of transportation. She told him that he was safe but to not step infront of one or it would hurt, hitting him. Cercie swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to relax a bit but it was hard to relax when he was trying not to be caught again. They continued on and arrived at the house, she stepped in then gave him some space, waiting for him to follow. He finally did after a long few moments, looking around still a bit tense. Everything in the house was much more fancy then he was used to. The man wasn't too sure of everything and it showed. Cercie clenched his jaw and looked back to her, waiting for her to lead the way.

    "It's all...so strange..." he said softly, almost too soft to be heard but too loud to be talking to himself.
  12. She'd become accustomed to walking home in the dark, knowing most of the neighborhood by heart by this point in her life. Living alone had it's ups and downs, and she spent a lot of time with her neighbors, or chatting with them while weeding a flower bed or mowing the small lawn that she was responsible for the upkeep of. She'd never been convinced by the husband and children thing, though it offered an opportunity for far more harrassment than she believed was called for. Women still were set in their ways, no matter how long ago it'd been when they were supposed to grow up, get married, and produce children until they couldn't feed or handle another. A firm believer in making a life for herself outside of that, she was probably one of the few that did work if they didn't have to. It was strange in her eyes, to rely on someone else entirely for your well being, but she supposed some people just didn't have a choice. The imprisoned depended on the scraps to survive, and while she wasn't thrilled with the fact they didn't receive meals as humans that were put in jail, she couldn't really change anything. It was a serious downside to being only one person in an exceptionally large world.

    Shala felt too bad about the fact he was so on edge to tell him that he would have to tone down the growling, especially at passing cars. She doubted they really cared at all, seeing as they didn't have brains, they had engines run on fuel that was expensive to the point of pointlessness. Walking was a much faster option, unless it was for long distance travel. Working a regular job, she didn't really encounter those opportunities very often, so that it never applied to her personally. Wasting fuel that wasn't renewable was not something she was a heavy advocate for. Incapable of sitting still, walking or running came easier to her.

    He took a little while to come inside, but she was no longer trying to guess what he would do, seeing as none of her predictions had come true thus far. She let him look around and get used to what was probably a huge change while she took off her coat and tossed the box of files on the table beside her coat rack, glancing at him. While his words had been nearly inaudible, she'd caught them, barely. Her expression softened and she nodded. "I'm sure it is, but hey, better to get used to it sooner rather than later, right?" She replied gently, and then walked into the kitchen. "It's not the biggest place in the world, but if I can handle it, you can too." Shala was a naturally open person, with very few secrets, so if he wanted to wander the place and figure things out for himself, she wasn't too worried about stopping him.
  13. Cercie tried to relax as he entered her house but found that was not going to come easy. He'd imagined that tonight was going to be pretty restless despite how exausted he was from running all this distance. The werewolf didn't know exactly just how far he had come from the camp. But however far it was it was not nearly far enough...he couldn't ever get far enough from that evil prison. Looking around he saw the extravagant objects that adorned her walls and in general the rest of her house. It was far nicer then he had ever seen and was used to. The werewolf took cautious steps as he carefully shut the door and followed her deeper into the strange place. It was unsually cool in the home while the outside was hot. The man was used to the heat because that was they recieved out at the camp. Being cold out there was not a problem because the shade was as cold as it ever got. But he was not about to complain about it...it felt very good on his hot to the touch skin. Normally werewolves had a high body temprature then humans but it was even hotter then that, It was because of the beating sun though the day and the way the sand and rocks seemed to reflect it back to him. Cercie didn't know how heat or cold transfured but he knew when it was time to cool off. As they walked past a blast of cool air, instead of startling him it relaxed his muscles a bit. He didn't think he would have a hard time getting used to this life style. It seemed the humans had everything simplified and much easier. Even the work really didn't seem like work. Generations ago his family would have known that but being born and raised at the camp he was ignorant to the human world and their devices.

    Shala then set the box she was carrying along with her coat down, responding and telling him it would be better to know the world sooner then later. Also that it wasn't the biggest place but he would be able to handle it. That gave him a strange sense of relief to know that he had a human who didn't despise his exsistance on his side. Well...not entirely on his side but it was good enough...she was giving him a place to stay and hide away from the people who wanted him to return to his cage in the hot desert prison. He followed her into the kitchen, the smell of food coming from somewhere. It smelled very good...just like the food the gaurds were so privlidged to feast upon. Almost forgetting she was in the kitchen with him he began wandering...following the scent of the food. It led to a giant box looking object with doors. Slowly and cautiously he opened it and looked inside. It was just like he had stumbled upon a stash of gold. Inside there was food...meats, fruits, some vegetables. Despite being a carnivore by nature it all looked and smelled very good. Also there was drinks in different shaped bottles. He just blinked in suprise and against his instincts pulled away, shutting the door, somewhat embarressed. Cercie was hungry though...it was only then he realized he has not eaten since Yesterday afternoon. The young werewolf just turned to her and looked at her questingly.

    "So...if I know what I shouldn't touch or go here then things might run more smoothly...and I'll just stay, sleep wherever you have room....and I won't ask for much or get in your way. It is already so kind of you to take someone like me in you house..." as he was finnishing speaking he rememered something Ian had told him. He bit his lip and lowered his eyes in the only way he knew how to show respect. "Thank...you."
  14. Her mind was currently focusing on where exactly she was going to put a werewolf, but she figured that the spare room could have the stray boxes and stuff moved around so that he could have the place to himself. Probably for the best, because her little couch would probably not be the most comfortable of places for him to sleep. It wasn't even comfortable for her, really. Deciding that he would have to figure out how he wanted to become accustomed to her way of life and just let her know, she took a file from the box and glanced his way briefly before she took a seat and glanced over at him wandering into the kitchen. Simple fascination required that her eyes remain on him instead of studying whatever it was that was so important about this guard who'd been labelled as killed in an attack on a camp that was half way across the country. Why she had it in the first place was beyond her, but arguing normally got you a slap on the wrist and booted from an office and into a cubicle. Being surrounded by cigarette smoke and useless gossip was not high on her list of desireable places to be in life.

    She clicked on a table lamp and looked away from him at this point. "You're welcome to anything in there you want. Anything in a glass bottle is probably alcoholic. Don't really know if that affects you at all." She told him and skimmed the papers, running a hand through her hair. She really needed to find herself someone to be her male counterpart so she could have a real job instead of pushing papers from one side of her desk to the other. Maybe until he got settled, it was for the best. She couldn't have him wandering the city streets if he were to get lost or something. It'd be hard enough to find him, and she couldn't exactly just file a missing persons report and hope that no one noticed the fact he was not human. He'd be sent back and she'd probably be sent off to jail for aiding a criminal. He was speaking then, and she used that as excuse enough to turn away from her thoughts and stand, walking over to where he stood and listening to what he had to say. A small smile appeared on her face, and she nodded.

    "Well, I'm quite alright with you looking around. Help yourself to whatever you'd like to eat or drink. Bathrooms, living room, the television, whatever you want to do is pretty fine by me. If you break something, well, just tell me. Not that I really expect you to, seeing as it's simple enough to figure most things out." She took a break and glanced toward the stairs. "I guess there's no real reason for you to go into the first room on the left upstairs, it's just my bedroom. Unless you want women's clothing, there's no reason to go there." When he thanked her, she grinned and shook her head. "Really, there's no need to thank me. You're welcome though."

    Her attention turned to the tags around his neck and she studied them thoughtfully. "So, you can't take off your tags, but could I? Or would that still inflict pain?" She asked, making sure she had a good grasp on what exactly the ailment was that made it so he couldn't remove them.
  15. Before he had looked through the contents of Shala's fridge he glanced over at her. She appeared to be lost in thought. That almost mustered a smile from him. It reminded him of Ian who despite being in his mid-thirities, was often scoloded during work. Scolded for duing the very thing that she was doing now. Ian...along with other werewolves had a amazing voice. It was said that it stemmed from the wolf part of their origins. It was used as a form of entrtainment along with just being part of who they were. But he often got lost in though writing little songs for the pack...but mostly he said it was out of habit. What he meant from that was since the time he was forced to stay with the pack Ian looked after him. His mother died in childbirth and his father was said to have been murdered by the gaurds for objecting to the taking of his son. That was no real reason to murder someone but gaurds looked for any little excuse to sink a silver bullet though the brain of his people. Then he sanpped back to attention to see her pull of file from the box and start looking though it. That was when he had gone into the kitchen and discoverd the cold box that supplied food. After a few long moments he put the fridge and looked back over. Shala then told him that he was welcome to eat anything in there that he wanted...that anything in the coldbox that was in a glass bottle probably contained Alcohol.

    Now that word was one he knew. The gaurds carried smaller glass bottles around the camp sometimes after big feasts. They were labled Beer and it made them especilly violent and careless. One day Ian recived a bad beating for just looking at one of the drunken gaurds. He came back half dead...it took him a few days to heal. Luckily they did not kill him for being useless as resting one day. So at this point he would stay away from it...he didn't want to risk turning into a monster. Then was when he spoke and she responded by offering him a small smile and nodding. She proceeded to tell him he was welcome to look around and just about anything in the house. That if he was to break something to tell her...not that he was planning on it. If he did it was completly by accident. He listened carefully after she told him that there was no reason to be in her room and he would respect that as much as possible. It made a small smile come to his lips as she grinned and shook her head. It troubled him that it stirred something inside of him...her grin. It was...cute. Cercie shook it off but still offered her the small smile. Once her attention turned to his tags he left the kitchen...planning to eat later. Perhaps when her eyes were not on him, when she slept. The werewolf stopped next to her and listened to her question. Looking at her he nodded.

    "You could... but that is the reason the gaurds make the tags out of the material. I am, well Werewolves in general are highly allergic to Silver...it melts our skin like acid and burns us. That and wolfsbane...either could kill us. So if anything in here is silver or somehow have wolfsbane near by please do tell me I'd rather not discover it myself. It is...very painful."

    The small smile slipped from his lips as he finnished explaining.
  16. Thoughtful as she was, she was hyperaware of him. Not because he made her nervous, she was relaxed as ever, it was just strange to have someone else in her home, and the fact that he was now a wanted man didn't really help the fact that she would have to be careful with what she said and did from this point on. She wasn't used to having someone stay over at her house, she'd never been the woman that did the whole constant bed companion bit. It seemed like work to have to entertain someone else, it was hard enough for her to do for herself. These things did not apply to him in her mind. If anything, he was going to be a learning experience for her, as he had firsthand experience in the places that she was most interested in. It wasn't that they kept werewolves and vampires as prisoners, it was the overall state of the camps. Sadly, as so many had pointed out, it was the bill of human rights, not other species or particularly developed parts of their own. It was hard to come across people like Shala, who didn't necessarily believe that the people born within the camps deserved it. She'd heard word that there were generations in the camp, and while breeding was controlled, that didn't mean there'd never been a slip up, or a particularly frisky guard with a woman who couldn't really say no without getting the beating of her life. The female emitted a sigh. Politics were nasty things.

    She didn't get any confused looks from the word alcohol, but she figured that was probably the most universal term in the world. No wasn't, because the more powerful didn't have to pay any mind to what others thought. But drinking? It was the only thing that made everyone lose their inhibitions, no matter who it was. She called it an unfair playing ground, others thought it the fairest of them all. It probably depended on how you wanted to look at it though. She went through the speil about where to and where not to go, and then had paused to study him a bit. He was interesting to see and interact with. While he didn't grasp everything humans did and had, he was completely different than the children's tales that were told of vicious beasts that would rather consume you, in either blood or flesh, than have a nice little chat about what a car was, or the fact that her well-stocked fridge was open to him whenever he chose to venture into the food. He heard out her plan with the tags, and then responded with information that was quite true. Wolfsbane? She'd never heard of it, so she doubted that was anywhere in the house.

    "Well, I don't think I have much silver. I'm more of a gold person, if I have to have either." She told him, her grin having faded away easily, seeing as the only thing of the metal she could think of was jewelry. She hardly ever wore it, it got in her way and became a tangled mess after a rousing practice at hand to hand or a jog, if she got adventurous enough to do much exercise at all. "Would you like me to take off your tags?" She asked. It was probably the last tie beside his memory to camp B-3A and she wouldn't blame him for not being able to let go of something like that. If it was all you'd ever known, no matter how terrible it was, there was going to be a part of you that would never adjust.
  17. Cercie couldn't help but keep that small smile on his lips as he watched the female space out again. They were such a funny creature, humans. They rode around in funny looking modes of transportation, worked all day for "money", and spaced out. She had done this a few times since he had met her. He did NOT think she was a airhead but she sure was a thinker. But then again he had unexpectedly intruded into her life. It was only rational of her to think so much. The adult was a werewolf so he needed to have a spereate space. But that was for her to decide. He would sleep on the couch, floor even if he had to. Just as long as he didn't have to go back to that camp. The werewolf would admit that he was hesitant in being housed by a human he hardly knew. It was only about an hour ago that he had met her. For all he knew as soon as he fell asleep she could call the gaurds back. Then again she would have, could have done that back there and avoided the awkward situation of taking him into her house. Shala snapped back to attention and told him that there wasn't much silver in the house, that she liked gold better then she liked silver. His slight smile slipped away as her grin did. It was a bit sad when it disappeared. With such a solem expression he was starting to feel like a burden.

    Then all of a sudden she asked him if he wanted her to take off his silver dog tag. It caught him by suprise and it showed. He blinked at her and started to think it though. Cercie remembered the day that he was given the tags. It was very painful as the senstive skin around the neck became burned by the silver chain and tag. It had taken him a number of years to get used to the pain. For the first few years it was painful and often disturbed his already inturrupted sleep pattern. By the time he was sixteen the pain just became part of the list of things that ached and hurt on a daily office. Now that the man was almost twenty years old it was still a dull ache that he barely recognized, it just felt like weight on his neck. Furthermore it identifyed who he was...or atleast that was what he had been told. It was something he was used to...reminded him of a place he was used to. But now he had to move past it. If he was caught with it then he would be taken back to the camp. After that he would be either killed or severly beaten. Decideding that this was his new life he had to have her do this for him. Cercie then looked up at her and nodded.

    "Yes. It may remind me of the life and people I left but...I can't help them or myself if I keep it on. So yes...remove it." he remembered Ian. "Please..."

    He sat up strait and waited for her to take it off. When she did pain shot through his skin and muscles near the skin. The werewolf winced and clenched his teeth. His eye remained open, a wildness surging though his abnormal orange eyes. Once it was off sharp pains remained but he tried to ignore them. He would eye it for a few long moments then reached up and touched his neck gently. It felt strange for it not to be there...strange but a relief. Then he remembered how long it had been since he had shifted and that since he was out of the camp it would have to be a normal thing. Cercie's eyes shot back to hers and he asked a question.

    "Do...you know how long it has been since the last full moon...? Or when the next one will be...?"
  18. He was smiling when she snapped back into the present. She'd have to show him the spare bedroom soon enough, and get some sheets around for it. For all that she'd lived here for a while now, she hadn't ever been a host for more than dinner. People didn't stay the night anymore, it was the 'just in case' room, as her mother had so aptly named it. 'Just in case' she got married. 'Just in case' she got pregnant. There were a lot of things that could have happened that never actually did, but it was not actually worth arguing. It'd been in her price range, and the additional room came with it. She'd probably soon be writing Cercie off as a roommate, if she could get past her obvious fascination in the male. It was just interesting to see someone so different from her, yet so very real. It took a lot of work on her part to refrain from pestering with him with a variety of questions that she'd never heard the answers to. She figured she'd have the opportunity to do so later, and calmed her overactive brain so that she was refocusing on him. He was a good looking man, for all that he was obviously in need of a few good meals, which he was sure to receive with Shala being his new housemate. As it was, she already cooked too much. Now she actually had someone to feed, if he was willing to eat what she presented to him.

    He was clearly surprised by the question she posed, and he actually had to think about it, just as she'd predicted. It was a decision not to be made lightly, as while she would surely keep the tags somewhere safe, putting them back on would be extremely hard for him, and her, to do. She didn't like to inflict the pain that would surely come right along with that. She didn't know if it'd hurt for him to have the tags come off, they were something that she wasn't exactly sure what the inner workings of them were, if there was some kind of thing that would make it particularly hard to take off, but it had to be easier than wearing them for the rest of your existance. He was never going to be mundane, at least not to her, but it was a start in the direction he needed to be headed in, if he wanted to blend in with humans. The orange eyes would be difficult, but colored contacts were easy to come across, if they worked on him at all. It was such a strange color that she had to wonder if they'd shine through whatever she could come up with on short notice.

    He gave her the okay to take them off, sitting up straight. She got down from her perch and walked toward him, studying the clasp carefully, not wanting to inflict any necessary pain. While she couldn't stop the chain from brushing the side of his neck, she pulled the bulky metal clasp up toward her, cool fingers brushing over the skin of his neck as she struggled with the strange contraption keeping them on. They were meant to stay on, that was evident. She pulled the chain away from his neck, feeling bad about the wince and the muscle becoming prominent in his jaw. "Sorry. I tried to go easy." She murmured, and then set them on the counter for now.

    Cercie looked at her and Shala met his gaze. Confusion, then understanding, flashed over her face in fast procession when he asked about the last full moon, and when the next one was. She turned away from him, dug out a worn calendar, and flipped through until she reached that month. "Er, it's tomorrow night." She said, looking back at him, question in her eyes. "Will that be a problem for you?"

    (if you want it to land on a different day, just go ahead with that)
  19. After some thought he looked back to her and gave her the green light to take off the silver tags. He watched as she moved off her perch and towards him. Her movements are graceful compared to anyone else he had seen. Then again he had for almost twenty years been away from females. This arrangment was strange for him even. Females were strange creatures and he would have to get used to them. So far he liked them...one of them had taken him in. But the only reason he still felt the hesitation was because he had only been around other males. And he didn't mean to feel discrimitory but humans still made him feel uneasy. After all he had scars on his chest and legs to prove. Prove that humans were the ones who caused him all the pain and scars. Humans were the ones who detained him and his people for the last fifty years. When he snapped back to attention she was leaned over him a bit. Shala's eyes were studied on the back of his neck where the clasp rested. It was heavy duty clasp...it was meant to last and usually did until the werewolf died. Cercie didn't know exactly why but his heart rate started to increase the closer she got to him.

    He did wince whenever she was pulling at the chain. Because in turn the chain would brush against his neck and give him a slight burn. It hurt but it was a pain that was tolerable, one that he had tolerated for years. Then he could feel cold fingers brush against the back of his warm skin. It was a feeling that he didn't mind...one that he could get used it if it was always there. But he knew it wouldn't always be like this so he shook it from his head. After a few more long moments she finally got at the clasp as pulled the chain from around his neck. After touching his neck and pulling away he was still getting used to the idea. The idea and feeling of not having to wear that horrible chain anymore. He had a chance...and furthermore a choice. It was so thrilling...a choice! He finally had a chance to choose what he wanted for himself. What he wanted to do, where he wanted to work, if he wanted to work...there was a whole world before him now! Then she spoke and apologized saying she tried to go easy. It was only a murmur but with his excellent hearing. He even heard the clink of the metal as the tag was set on the counter.

    When he met her eyes again, asking about the full moon, her expression changed. It changed from relaxed to confusion to understanding as she turned away from him. Then the female pulled out something and flipped though some papers. What exactly was she looking at? Finally, after a few long moments she said that the full moon was tomorrow night. As she asked if it was going to be a problem he paled. Cercie wanted to tell her no, that it would not be a problem but it clearly was going to be. Usually the day or two before he could feel the shift coming on, the wolf inside of him coming to the surface, the medics and guards would administer some sort of something. Then it somehow would supress the shift. Now that he had not had the medicine the shift was defnintly going to happen. He didn't know if she had some place for him to shift safely out of the sight of the human public...but they would have to find one. If they didn't not only would he be going back to camp B-3A but Shala could be in some trouble too. The young werewolf didn't know what kind of trouble but there was some ahead. He then tried to gather his thoughts and spoke.

    "Usually at the camps the shifts are stopped...but now that I am away from that It is more then likely going to be a problem. How big of one I don't know exactly know because I have not shifted in thirteen years. It's natural to shift once a month so it has been a long time. I don't mean to bring my problems upon you...but nobody besides you can know what I am. The last thing you need is to be getting into trouble for housing a fugitive..."

    He was a bit tense. But a small smile came across his lips as he tried to keep too much tension from building up.

    "I would find a safe place myself but as you can see they don't exactly teach us about the human world..."
  20. He let her take the tags off, and then she found it hard not to focus on the back of his neck and the strange clasp. She was known for breaking them on her own, so perhaps it'd be easier if the government issued the same thing for her, without making it painful with additives or something of that sort, seeing as she had no allergy to silver. He came back to attention when she was leaning over him, trying to figure it out with more difficulty than she'd even intended. Shala had a feeling that she would never completely be able to grasp the camps, or the time that Cercie had spent there. He was young enough that it was clear he hadn't been among the original people to be trapped there, given no mercy because of their race and what they'd supposedly caused for the humans. She didn't completely grasp the concept of the camps, because they were severely resembling the concentration camps, except there was no gas chamber to kill them off. The guards would come back with either horror stories or things that they found funny, while she listened on in disgust. Perhaps she was just the odd one out, sympathizing the ones who weren't involved with the uprising.

    His skin was warm, and she wondered if his body temperature was naturally higher than hers. Something said he wasn't ill, he was far too alert to be anything of the sort. She looked at the tags when they hit the counter, reading over them. She knew what they said, the variety of letters and words that made up him name and camp number. Probably something about 'If found, return to:' and an address that they could be shipped off to. Her attention returned to him, just as it always did, a small smile on her face while he got used to the fact there was no metal around his neck to burn him. While she wasn't suggesting that he did anything irrational, he was free to do what he pleased, when he pleased. Cercie had just become a free man, whether he realized that yet or not. When she needed to look at the calendar, she had to think hard about finding the date. Days now just were a jumble of papers and phone calls, leaving no time to check the date or the pull off calendar that sat beside her computer at work, probably three months off from the real day at this point. She was easily distracted from that thought though.

    She didn't really know how a werewolf's shifting pattern worked, besides the whole full moon being the trigger. It was a thought that hardly ever brushed her mind, but it didn't sound like they had them running around in their shifted forms at the camp, so she was a bit worried for his sake as to what would happen. Did he even know? And how did they repress them at the camp? Probably hormones and steroids that countered the effects. They'd had years to perfect their work, the scientists probably loving their paychecks. She'd really have to keep track of those things now, or show him how to keep track of things like she had. He didn't know what cars were, so she had to doubt he knew what this was either. It wasn't his fault though, teaching them things that would allow them to track on their own, that was the type of advantage that no one wanted the supernaturals to be able to get their hands on. She relayed the day, waiting for him to speak while she put the calendar away. Tomorrow was not hard to remember, it was not that far away, after all. She listened as he began to speak to her, eyes wandering back.

    "Safe as in out of sight?" She asked carefully. There were plenty of places like that, hell, even a basement. No one snooped at houses like hers, on a block full of families with children. Shala just had to know what exactly was considered safe for him.