And it Hurts to Hold on... (Fen)

[ynyr]

He had been here for a little while now. It was nothing like his home, nothing like the world outside. At night he had rocked himself into a stupor, thinking of the cruel people who had given him up, sacrificed him instead of themselves. One for all. The thoughts only made the anger boil up again, only made him want to hit things. His knuckles were scabbed over from punching trees, walls, pillars, anything that got in his way. His cat-like eyes held that fire behind them. He spat at the Keeper that had dumped him here, cursed him out in Arabic. But now he sat, rubbing his newly formed spots on his hands like he could get them off. He loved his shift, used it when ever he could, but now that was impossible. He couldn't shift, his body just wouldn't. It was stuck and he was furious. Furious at the world for choosing this fate to befall him. God was not merciful, he was as vengeful and angry as all the texts said. Ynyr, picked at the small spots on his left hand with his right nails. They were so sharp and thick now, it was strange to use them like people nails. They dug into the back of his hand, blood pricking up around them. The spots just wouldn't come off. After it had started to hurt more than he could bear, Ynyr stopped scratching himself and wiped his bloody hand and nails on his shorts with a disgusted grunt. He stood from against the single wall he was sitting against and grabbed a hold of his long tail.

Wandering past the wall and through a couple patches of brush, he petted his tail as he walked. Deep in thought and rumination, he hardly noticed the wall until the brush stopped. Heightened senses took in the change and he stopped his wandering, looking up for the first time. All thoughts stopped as he stared. So this was what enclosed them. Standing just outside of the brush that bordered it, he panted. There were no words to describe how he felt, and if anyone asked, he probably wouldn't have said anything. His breath came up short and he brought his clawed hand up to his chest, as if clutching his ribs would expand them. He suddenly felt the need to get air. With an almost blind fear that exploded in his chest, he stumbled forward, arms flailing at the double explosive proof glass. A feral growl ripped his vocals apart and his eyes held the anger that ignited when he imagine what he would do to the Keepers if he ever got his claws into them. His almost-black curls flew into his face and he stopped to brush them out. As his vision cleared, he realized he had reopened his scabs again. There was a couple smears of blood on the glass and he snarled at them. Fal takon alla'anatu alaik! He spat at it. Damn it. He gasped as he cradled his hands against his chest and wheeled back from the wall to fall on his butt.

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[Fen Mulviene]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/fentablebg.png] It had been a few days since the Keepers had dropped her in the middle of the desert and left her there to either make it out, or die. And she’d nearly died, but thanks to a rather stubborn and begrudgingly helpful Fallen by the name of Yves, she was still alive. And able to walk away from her near-death experience a couple of days later with only a bit of a sunburn and a few sore blisters that the Fallen had wrapped up for her. The alliance was helpful in that department, although Fen was convinced that the Fallen would have helped her regardless. They were such kind people - even the mean ones had a bit of love in their heart when they really wanted to. Fen could see herself living here; but it just wasn’t in the books for her, she figured. She couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of all her careful planning and meticulous meetings. It wasn’t as if she could abandon her sister and leave her to the wolves, so to speak, of the Carna. Fen had plans, and she sure as hell would stick to her guns. It’s the only thing she really had now, since Seija had changed so much. Since Seija had become, in true form and essence, what a perfect Carna was. But Fen was convinced that if she could get Seija free of the Carna’s hold on her easily influenced mind, then Seija would snap out of it. She had to. And that was that. But Fen was all the way in the Fallen, and it was time to stop living in a fantasy world of relaxation and a nice, fully belly of food and get her butt back to the Carna just to be dragged out on patrol by that ass-hat of a Head of Border Patrol, Adison. “Jerk,” Fen hissed, her fists clenching at the mere thought of his pretty, snide face. A flurry of colors flashed across her skin, a rainbow of dark reds, browns and even a fiery bright red. The colors seeming to move and ripple as the constant motion of the ocean. She looked down at her hands and gasped, flinching visibly as she tried to hide herself behind something. Wait. She was in the Fallen! The only Ring that really accepted Anthros like her. She let out a shuddering sigh of relief, and a soft golden-yellow color began to shift and take over the angry reds. The golden-yellow was joined with a soft blue and a pale green, a pastel pink tickling along her nose. Her skin seemed to change colors that correlated with her mood - and in the Carna that was basically a death sentence, a dead give away that she was an Anthro spy. But as she looked down at her hand, she saw something she had never seen before. A faint glow seemed to emanate from her still clenched fist. She drew it closer to her face but it flickered out, and she shrugged. Probably still a little frazzled from the desert adventure. Fen got on her way but soon got turned around, and ended up closer to the Fallen’s section of the Wall than she’d intended. “d**n,” she hissed. This meant she’d been going in the opposite direction of where she needed to go. Figuring she might as well act the tourist while she was here, she walked along the wall and tickled her fingers along the glass, letting her emotions and colors flow freely. She saw movement on the other side and stopped for a moment, looking through the glass. A man stood watching her, fascinated. Riveted. For a moment her entire body flushed a bright pink - but she soon remembered who he was, and who she was. And what side of the glass they were both behind, respectively. She just watched him back, sadly, before deciding to move on. It wasn’t long before she saw him - what looked to be another Fallen. He was standing in front of the wall like she’d been, his palm pressed against the glass. Fen darted behind a bush, and she was small enough so she was relatively covered. Just to be safe she let her skin change, her instinct taking over as her skin cells replicated the colors around her and soon nothing of her body was visible except for a set of crouching clothes - a white tank top and a scant pair of jean cut-off shorts. She watched the other Anthro for a few minutes, blinked a couple times and noted the spots on one hand, and the blood dripping from the other. Fen gasped, wondering what had happened or if he needed help. She decided he did when he fell backward and cut his face with what seemed to be extremely sharp claws, rushing toward him with light, barefooted footsteps. She slowed when she got in front of him, forgetting to let her skin go back to normal - what must he think, seeing a pair of floating clothes coming at him? The rest of her slowly became visible as she calmed herself, stepping forward and leaning down, kneeling in front of the seated man. She tilted her head to the side, long black-brown hair falling into her bright teal and purple eyes so that she had to brush it away. “You okay?” she asked, her lightly accented voice an innocent coo. “I...I can heal you if you want.” she motioned to the wound on the back of his hand, her big round eyes wide and her smile soft and encouraging. ooc; FORGIVE THE RAMBLES Dx

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[ynyr]

Pounding a fist into the ground, he growled again. With a deep breath, he calmed himself a bit and massaged his hands together. He realized now that "attacking" the wall was probably a bad decision, his knuckles were bleeding pretty badly and his wrists and elbows were a bit sore. Grunting, he crossed his legs and sat for a second before looking up at the wall. Out to the side, he saw movement and whipped around to face it. He bared his pointed teeth but didn't growl. He hoped desperately it wasn't a Carna or a Fulsi, he wasn't ready to fight any one just now. His breath was still short from his temper tantrum and he wasn't sure just how they would react to an Anthro like himself. Instead, he gasped as he only saw a strange looking sight. A set of clothes that looked as if they were floating and the vague outline of a person, but not a person. How could it be a person? He scrambled from his sitting position into a low crouch. He winced as he put his hands out to steady himself, the blood was caked and pulling at his skin. His claws dug into the grass but before he could move any more, the thing was in front of him, speaking to him.

He watched with a mixture of fascination, awe, and fear as a girl appeared in front of him, manifesting like some strange angel. He gasped and swallowed hard. For a moment he didn't understand her then, slowly, the words translated themselves in his head. It was always hard for him to distinguish from other languages when he was emotional, even shiftertongue was a bit hard sometimes. But he nodded and gulped again, not knowing how to answer. Shifaa? Oh... uhm... heal me? What... what do you mean? He forgot all about his hands as he watched her, her strange eyes, her beautiful long hair. With that thought, he pushed his own black curly hair out of his face for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. He wanted it shorter, but it helped him cover his ears which he hated. He stared at her with a confused look on his face until he flexed his hand and felt another gush of hot blood swell from his cut. Oh. Yea, I guess... It's these claws. I'm not used to using them... all the time.. now. He glanced down, ashamed of saying that to her. His voice was soft, the temper from before wiped away by the surprise of another Anthro finding him. What are you? He looked back at her, a curious tilt to his head. He never knew of something that could change it's color that easily. It was a great defense mechanism. Maybe she was some kind of alien or experiment gone wrong. His eyes searched her face for the answer.

[Fen Mulviene]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/fentablebg.png] Big, round eyes skimmed over his face and body, taking in his appearance with a quick and purposely not-lingering glance. She knew how it felt to be looked at as if you were some freak - most people did it the instant her skin started to change and ripple with color. In fact just thinking about it made her feel pathetic and foreign, like some creature to be oggled. From behind glass, like they all were here for. Except the Carna and the Fulsi and even some of the Fallen themselves still regarded her kind with hostility and in some cases, hatred. She didn't know why and couldn't even begin to grasp such things. So her gaze didn't linger too long on the mutations he'd suffered from the Keeper's testing. His craftily hidden fluffy ears, long tail wrapped around his waist and the long claws on his fingers, her gaze trying not to focus on the spots that looked a bit like odd freckles. She gave him a small, sad smile when he mentioned having difficulties getting used to the claws. " “The mutations do take getting used to.” she said, letting a leap of brilliant colors flash across her face before she let her skin turn back to it's normal coloration. She was taken aback for a moment at his question, momentarily offended. But then she realized that perhaps he didn't mean what she was, as if she were some foreign alien from a far off planet or some mutated freak. She thought for a moment that he hadn't the right to judge her - her skin began to flash a brilliant display of dark, brooding reds and fiery oranges before she realized that he didn't mean it that way. “I'm an Anthro, same as you. Though my shift was originally something called a cuttlefish. Kinda like an octopus. They can change all sorts of colors and blend in with their surroundings. Watch," she said with a grin, sitting on her rump and concentrating for a moment. Within half-a-second it would appear to the other anthro that she disappeared completely, except for the vague outline and of course her floating clothes. “Now give me your hand," she said when she made herself visible again and reached out tentatively for his bloody hands. She placed her palm on the oozing wound, wincing slightly and hoping not to hurt him. She focused, her eyes drifting shut, and let her energy flow from her hands and into his. It still drained her, but it was less now that she'd had more practice. Fen sighed and she pulled her hands away, feeling lightheaded but content to see that his cuts had stopped bleeding. “I'm Fen Mulveine," she stated, patting his hands before wiping her bloody palms on her cut-off shorts. “What do they call you?" ooc; hope it's okay!

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[ynyr]

Ynyr was startled by her ever changing skin tone. First it was one color and he would blink and find her a different shade. It was hard for him to hide his surprise as she faded out of sight again, he hadn't learned yet how to hide his emotions. The shock made him stare at her with slightly parted lips and wide eyes. He gasped a bit as she came back to him. Realizing he was gaping at her, he snapped his mouth shut and looked away before she asked for his bloody hand. He thought for a moment before giving it to her. What was she going to do? He hoped that she wasn't planning on stitching him up, but what else could she do? He glanced back at her as he reluctantly gave her his hand and stared at their hands together as she closed her eyes gently. Ynyr felt a cold sensation run through her palm to his and the skin began to knit itself back together. It was a bit uncomfortable, like something was wiggling right under his skin. He struggled not to pull his hand away, but succeeded in letting her finish her healing. Amazed, he kept staring at his hand as she pulled her hand away, turning the healed appendage over and over again. The skin looked like new, though it was hard to tell with all that smeared blood all over. He touched it gently with his other hand, smoothing over the places where there should be scars. You are a... healer? Was this... some kind of magic? He looked up at her with mystified eyes. Before this, he thought that only his God and the shifters were magic. But this, this was something new and... almost scary. He wondered at it. What was this place, really? It was not just a dome with some strange experiments in it. It was something more magical. He realized that if there was magic done inside it, it would be even harder to get out.

He saw her lips move and shook his head. She had asked him his name. He opened his mouth for a moment, wanting to give his full Muslim name, but settled instead for just his first. Ynyr. Nice to...meet you, Fen? His accent made his name graceful, though in shiftertongue and American English it sounded whiny. Yah-near. His mother, a very learned American, who spoke Arabic almost as fluently as her first language, was the only person he knew who could say it both ways. Though it was hard for him to say her name the way she had said it. It came out Fin, instead of Fen with a short E sound. He wiped his bloody hands on his pants and glanced back up at her. What ring are you of? He didn't give her his own ring, because he wasn't sure if she was someone who could be trusted with his information. He wanted a friend, and another Anthro was perfect, if they were trustworthy. His history made him skeptical of others, since it had been his own clan that had thrown him to the dogs. He hardly even spoke to anyone after that, afraid that anyone he met would turn on him, and they had. It had succeeded in making him a hard, cynical teen.

[Fen Mulviene]

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[atrb=background,http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/fentablebg.png] The way the expressions on his face changed and moved with the shifting of her colors, Fen couldn't help but smile. She was so accustomed to people who hid their emotions - who wore masks and smooth expressions with the rare spark of feeling behind it. She should know. She usually would've invented another name, another history for this anthro to believe. But for some reason her heart went out to him. There was always something about fellow Anthros that touched her, perhaps some sense of kindred spirits that she simply couldn't find in the Carna. Even her sister had changed so much, and it felt like part of her was missing. When he was amazed at her healing abilities, she couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. Magic. That was a thought, wasn't it? It sure seemed like magic, but she'd heard the Keepers describing it before. It was a process of energy transfers that sped up the healing in cells. She still didn't even begin to understand why it happened. Still, seeing the wonder on his face was refreshing. It had become so common place here, after all. "It's another "gift" from the Keepers." She said, using the euphemism her sister had given the skills. She supposed she was thankful in some aspects, but Seija was right. They could've done without the imprisonment and violent testing. "Not exactly sure how it works - but it's got something to do with...biology." She wasn't so sure if he understood everything she was saying since his voice was accented and he seemed to have a bit of trouble here and there, but she didn't worry too much. She wasn't saying anything too important anyhow. "Ynyr, huh? Whereabouts are you from?" she said, her light Finnish accent not exactly butchering the name but not doing much for it either. At his next question, she wasn't too sure what to answer. Saying that she was an Anthro spy in the CarnaRing would just confuse him, seeing that if he was a Fallen (likely that he was, he smelled of it) they would've told him not to cross onto Carna territory, lest he be attacked and killed on the spot. "I'm a Rogue," she lied, her face steeling over for a moment. "Not an easy life - certainly not as cushy as the one you lead in the Fallen, no doubt." ooc; sorry for the wait </3

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