There Are Some Things You Can't Shift Out Of (open

[casey]

OoC: marvel at my ability to make overly long thread names!

No matter how many times Casey rearranged his features, he couldn't get rid of the wound in his abdomen. Things had not gone particularly well on his latest mission, though he had managed to recover what he was supposed to. The vial felt oddly weighty within his jacket, and he grimaced as he shuffled along.

Mostly because the shifting jacket kept bouncing against the torso wound. Blood soaked into Casey's shirt, forming a dark, wet, red patch on the white. Fortunately it had missed anything important, though that was partly because Casey could rearrange organs out of the way. Different heights and all that.

"I still need help," he whispered, looking up at the school. He'd made it to the gardens, and was beginning to wish he'd managed to keep his Academy car. But as that was currently in pieces all over a warehouse in St. Louis, that wasn't likely.

"I'm supposed to be a guide and a fetcher, not a thief," muttered Casey as he started trudging onward. He had to make it to the Academy, and pray that he found a healer. Either that or take blood from a regenerator. Anything had to be better than this.

[scythe]

(ooc. I've waited long enough.)

He leaned against a tree and watched the man with a wicked smile. Torment, agony, misery. The rich copper scent of blood made his eyes close in ecstasy. Such an aroma should be savored and enjoyed much like anything rich, and treasured. Distress, anguish, torture. Step by step he got closer to the wounded man. Breath by breath he inhaled the intoxicating bouquet of the man's life flowing from his wound. No one seemed to be coming to help him. No one seemed to be expecting the man who looked so much like a boy.

Blood, gore, plasma.

Step in step with the man now hands deep within his black jean pockets. Smirking his eyes peered at him not turning his head in the slightest down at the man. This highly amused him seeing this boy acting like a man in pain. Death, tomb, grave. But that was not his purpose today. No that lucky draw lay on some other fool.

"Need of help, yes? You leave trail leek voonded rabbit." His thick Russian accent almost sounded concerned about the man beside him. Yet he made no move to help the man walk, or to aide him in any manner. Demise, end, mortality. A half grin pulled at the right corner of his mouth his eyes dark delighted at the pain the other man felt. Now had he picked out the right person to reveal himself to? Or would it be another mistake. Remorse, regret, shame.

[casey]

Something about the other man caught Casey's nerves and set them on edge. It wasn't just the inbred American unease at hearing a Russian accent. Casey had spent entirely too much time around danger and dangerous people not to recognize it when it was staring him in the face.

Still, he was hardly in a good position to fight off someone like that. Or to even tell them off, really.

"Yes, I'm in need of help," Casey admitted. He smiled nervously at the larger man and tried to look as weak and harmless as possible, while retaining enough of an edge not to get eaten. That had almost happened to Casey once, back in his school days. Not exactly an experience to be repeated.

"Sorry about the trail," Casey looked behind him. Yes, there was a little bit of blood. But like a wounded rabbit? He turned back to the larger man, again wondering what his story was. Did the man work there? He looked passingly familiar to Casey. Then again, the shapeshifter could say that about most people...

[scythe]

His eyes rolled over to look at the man again concentrating on the wound itself. People were such frail things and most times he enjoyed that fact but today it annoyed him. Today he couldn't do what he wanted to do, and that was shift into a dragon and eat the man beside him. Devour, ingest, consume. He was hungry and the man would most likely be satisfying because his blood alone was edging him toward the idea.

"V'ere need you be?" Nodding to the large estate in front of them he continued on with his hands in his pocket. In the end he would most likely help the bleeding man but for now it was just entertaining to watch him bleed. Wound, sore, gash. He loved to taunt his senses and see how far he could go before indulging in them. For not having eaten in a few days he was doing quite well.

"Need carried?" That would be a true test of his will to carry the wounded the blood so close. Almost close enough to taste upon his pallet. Tongue, throat, taste. He wouldn't be doing it out of kindness more as a test or challenge to oneself. The fact that this was all highly amusing of course entered into the equation.

[casey]

Yeah, Casey really wanted to be carried by that guy. by someone who looked like they wanted to eat a person. By someone who mentioned blood first, and didn't sound all that put off by it. Being carried by someone like that sounded like a super idea.

"No thanks, I'm good," Casey said, smiling and holding up a hand. Yeah, good and shot. Casey really needed to get the wound closed, and standing around talking wasn't doing that.

"I need to drop something off," he said. Details could be saved for later, when Casey remembered what this man's job was. Or what he was, for that matter. "At the Research Center."

That should clue even the most ignorant person in.

"So, if, uh," Casey hobbled a step, "you'd like to support me or something, that'd be swell. Or make sure I don't pass out between here and there."

He shouldn't, but there was always a chance. After all, blood was leaking out and all that.

[scythe]

A little put off that he wouldn't get the chance to test himself he shrugged and began walking. He heard all that the man had to say and stopped a few feet ahead waiting for the wounded to catch up.Patience, understanding, consideration. Having only been in town for about a week he didn't really know what the research center was but it must be important. Though to him it was nothing except perhaps a source of mild interest when he was bored.

If the man passed out he was not positive that he would be able to restrain himself. Inside the school of course he would contain his dragon tendencies, but if the young man happened to pass out beforehand? It was around lunchtime. He stood staring and starting to get bored with this whole being nice concept. Polite, kind, caring. Why were people nice to each other again? As he pondered that his eyes appeared dead and empty but both were focused on the man before him.

[casey]

Any urge Casey had to use the other man for a support quickly died as he watched him move. Not to mention the glazed over look in his eyes. Someone else had better show up soon, or Casey was going to wind up being food for whatever this other guy was.

"Say," Casey managed as he hobbled along, "what was your name again?"

The pain was making it hard to focus, and Casey knew that if he was ever going to make it, he'd need to distract himself from it somehow. Talking should do it, even if it was to someone as surly and downright mean looking at this guy. Better than focusing on the ever-present "ow" in Casey's abdomen.

"You know, you really could help me out here..." Casey almost whined. "Give me a shoulder to lean on or something?"

Hadn't the other guy gone through basic training yet? Just what was his position here? Casey was suddenly worried that he might be leading a natural into the Academy, and that could turn out disastrous.

"Hey, what do you do here?" Casey demanded, grabbing otno authority from somewhere.

[scythe]

A nice slow blink cleared his eyes and he focused on the man once more. This person was starting to irritate him and he concieved the man to be weak and worthless. Waste, inferior, despicable. The man moved so achingly slow that it was hard to stay away while waiting for him to catch up.

"I did not." His gaze traveled to the blood and stayed there until the annoyance spoke again. Eyes narrowing he raised them to the face that was emitting the whine. Lament, whimper, gripe In three long strides he was beside the man and nearly hefted him into the air as he "lent him a shoulder" to lean on. His thickly muscled arm wrapped around the smaller man's waste and helped him walk. If it meant that he could get inside faster, and be rid of him sooner he had no problem "helping."

The next question he casually ignored as they went on. He was there because he was bored and the scent of blood had drawn him to the man he was now "helping." In his current state he had no job, he had no real reason to be at the school. Academy, institution, establishment Last time he was in town he'd heard something about it and had decided to check it out. So far he was not entirely impressed with the people who worked there. Hopefully there were less whiny people who worked at the school.

[casey]

"Wow, you're a friendly guy aren't you?" quipped Casey as the man manhandled him. He winced as he was nearly lifted off his feet, and quickly shifted his legs so that they'd reach the ground. Being dragged all the way to a healer was not what he particularly wanted.

By now Casey at least had a good idea of who he wanted to heal him, though he wasn't certain where she'd be right now. And his priority had to be getting the vial to the Research Center. Casey was expendable. The vial was not.

"I don't suppose you could actually try and talk to me?" asked Casey, looking over to the man. He could feel the muscles stretched over the man's back, and knew full well that Casey's fate lay completely within this stranger's hands. Not exactly a comforting feeling, particularly with the looks Casey kept getting.

"You know, so I can stop focusing on the hole in my chest that keeps leaking?" Casey clarified. His eyes darted to said hole, wincing slightly. At least they were moving quicker now, almost the the main entrance of the Academy.

"Are you an Agent or something? I mean, if you're an outsider I can't let you into the Academy."

Clearly Casey hadn't stopped to think of how he'd stop the larger man. But he knew he'd have to try.

"Give me something."

[scythe]

Humans always insisted on talking, and it always failed to make sense to him. If they had something to say then it made sense to talk but if they didn't then what was the purpose? It only made unnecessary noise. Chatter, babble, clamor. But if this man insisted on it he might as well make some attempt. Maybe it would stop him from talking.

"You are voonded. Vhere is your 'eeler?" He no longer even bothered looking at the pathetic excuse for a living being beside him. It amused him though that the severly injured man could keep him from going anywhere. It almost made him smile at the thought. Idea, contemplation, consideration. Once again he figured that it would just be best for the sake of peave for him to answer. Even if he answered in lies.

"Yes, am new to eestablishment." There now the man would stop his insistant questioning. Maybe he could get some information out of the man. "This place, it not always ben here, yes?" He had never paid much attention to things like schools or other such things that never pertained to him. Concern, relate, apply. They were so close to the door, so close to getting inside. What lay inside for him to investigate, to explore? It intrigued him emensely.

[casey]

"Center first, healer later," insisted Casey wincing again. He was beginning to wish he'd thought to grab a first aid patch or something. Even a vial of regen's blood would be better than being manhandled like this.

He digested the man's words, and made a mental note to report him later. Someone who dodged questions this much was clearly suspicious in nature, and therefore someone the Academy needed to look out for. Besides, maybe someone could actually give Casey more information about this guy, something to satiate the shapeshifter's curiosity if nothing else.

Casey pulled away from the man as they came close, hobbling over enter the appropriate entrance codes. The doors slid open, the glass parting with a swoosh. In retrospect, it might have done Casey some good to see if the man knew the entry codes. No matter, at this point Casey just wanted to do his job and get someone to patch him up.

He again leaned on the man, nodding them forward into the Academy proper.

"Center's in the back of the Academy from here," Casey winced just thinking about it, "we can try to move a little quicker though."

And try Casey did, though he winced a little with each step.

[scythe]

His eyes watched him intently as the man punched in the code. It glued itself into his mind and he took the man under his strength once again without a word. Even when he tried to hold a conversation the man ignored his second question. Inquiry, proposal, probing. But the man gained a least one peg on his respect ladder for putting his mission before his health.

"It quicker if carry." Annoyed eyes rolled down to the man's face then back forward again. He completely understood not wanting to rely completely on another person but this was getting bothersome. At first it was entertaining and slightly challenging to not eat the man. Now it was just a mild irritation. Aggravate, chafe, maddening. The man shouldn't be moving as much as he was anyway, it would anger him greatly if the man died. Dead things never tasted as nice as live things.

[casey]

Clearly this man had control issues. And really, Casey was beginning to want to simply give in. Now they were in the Academy proper. If this man tried to kill him, everyone would know about it. Besides, Casey could always dodge around until other help showed up.

"Fine, carry me then," insisted Casey. He paused, throwing an arm around the man and waiting expectantly. Something told him this was going to be quite interesting.

His eyes darted down the hallway. Class must be in session, because there wasn't a single student anywhere to be seen. A tutor might show up sooner or later, as there was generally at least one roaming the halls. But for now it looked like Casey was on his own with the stranger.

"Be gentle though, I'm wounded you know."

[scythe]

In a smooth motion the man was in his arms like a child and he was moving along the hallway at a much faster pace. Moving slowly never appealed to him much, and this way he could go about as he pleased. His eyes took in everything about him as if his mind was mapping the place as he went. Where a classroom was, where another hallway started, and each time a window came about. Everything went down in his mind like a recording device. Apparatus, machine, contraption.

He just kept heading toward the back of the academy thinking he'd either find the research center or learn more about the academy itself. So this is where they were training the next generation. This is where those people had started all this "togetherness." It was all poppycock, humans, normal ones that is, should not be pampered in such ways. They should be treated like cattle, useless, mindless, cattle. Food, munchies, snacks. Nothing more, and certainly not with this much secrecy. They could easily rule the world and no longer need to hide in the shadows if they would just put humans in their place.

Almost to the back of the academy or at least he figured they were he flicked his attention to the man. "Directions."

[casey]

The man certainly moved quickly enough, and Casey had little objection to being carried like a child. Even if it did make him feel slightly useless and more than a little infantile. Beat limping along and wincing every other step.

To make it easier on the man, Casey slightly shrunk himself. Not enough to really be noticed, but enough to shed a few pounds. Make it easier for the guy.

Not that he needed it. Whatever this guy was, he clearly had some muscles to go along with that scary attitude. He was carrying a full grown, well partially shrunk, man down the hall without even stressing about it.

He was also studying the halls very closely.

Great, now I'm definitely going to have to report him. He's acting way to suspiciously to be normal. Someone's going to have to check in on this guy.

Casey pointed down a hallway, "Head that way, take the third left, then let me down at the door."