Le Petit Prince [Val] Sept 25, 2013 14:52:28 GMT -5
Post by Prospero on Sept 25, 2013 14:52:28 GMT -5
That was all he knew. He had been taken from his place with the Air Force and been put through excruciating pain. He had seen the tattoos given to him and that had just about broken his will. Not to mention then getting put through the testing and anthro projects. It had been excruciating and he would be forever uncomfortable. His head now mostly that of his owl shift, feathers trailing down his upper back and chest, ending just in time for the tattoos to start. Prospero. They had called him Prospero. He knew the works of Shakespeare well, even with them being ridiculously old, the Bard was still holding his own. Still considered one of the best English writers and poets. He knew the implications of the name and it was terrible. He would never be rid of it. Even though he couldn't see it, himself, he knew it would be the first thing everyone else saw. It was far too uncomfortable to wear a shirt of any kind, due to the feathers, so his brand was out there for everyone to see. Prospero.
Everything in him ached. His senses were going crazy, every breath brought thousands of scents into his head, so much that he couldn't decipher anything out. Every second he was acutely aware of every noise around him. The trickling water of what seemed to be a stream deafened him, and the sounds of the dome around him were crippling. He held his hands to his ears, but that barely muffled it. And to make matters worse, he was acutely aware of every vibration running through the ground. Everything was so overwhelming that he couldn't stand, but lying on the ground, every vibration was an earthquake rattling through his body. what had they done? He struggled to stand, his own scraping and footsteps against the concrete shook in his ears and body louder than anything else. Everything had gone terribly wrong, and none of it was his fault. He hadn't chosen to be a shifter--his parents had passed on those genes. He had embraced it, but it was never a choice.
He managed to stand after multiple tries, but it didn't last long. His entire body was shaking from sense overload. He fell to the ground again, but managed to sit himself up. He was shaking violently, crying. He had no idea where he was aside from inside the dome that was the Menagerie. He'd read up on it as discreetly as he could manage. He knew what kind-of people were here, he knew a basic structure had formed, but all of it just terrified him. He had no plan for this place. All he knew was the plan for not getting caught, and one day that he would be immune from random testing as the King. If only he had been able to hold out. But he hadn't calculated the people. Normally they were gracious and willing to keep such secrets. People were always wanting to know his secrets as the young Prince. He hadn't expected one like this to leak.
With all of his senses on extreme alert, he couldn't distinguish anything, which meant that he had no idea one of the security officers had accompanied him into the dome. The man had been instructed to make sure he'd been placed somewhere accessible. They wanted him to survive past the first days so the experiments could be carried out. The guard was just looking on, clearly terribly pleased by the fact this man was in such awful pain. He moved closer to the anthro, placing a hand on his feathery shoulder which caused the man to jump a few feet in the air and let out a screech that was most painful to his own ears. The officer just laughed. It was only after this that the anthro had a clear moment of hearing. He heard the man's booming voice, rattling in his brain, mocking him with every syllable before he vanished back to headquarters.
"GOOD LUCK SURVIVING THIS PLACE, MON PETIT PRINCE."