Who: Wild Child and Mastermind When: Saturday, July 4th ,Tournament Round 1 Where: Grass Arena What: Gibs and Jason watch the Pixie vs Polaris fight, talk about Gibs' changes, and get a fun blast of Pixie dust Notes: Log format, finished shortly Warnings: Language While it was no question that Gibney had gone through a dramatic change in the last six months which had resulted in whispers around the island, the blonde feral found himself in the midst of yet another change. The Canadian suddenly looked to be a handsome young man, rather than a wild and dangerous mutt. He was obviously quite weakened, he needing to lean on his tall companion for support every few minutes, a fact which frustrated him beyond words. His long hair fell loose around his chiseled face, his more houndish features somehow having morphed into the face of a young, powerful man. The thick patches of fur which had lined his face had fallen entirely away, in fact his body was almost entirely furless, the smallest patches still remaining at his elbows and lingering across the back of his still clawed hands. The Wild Child had truly morphed into something different.
His mind had managed to mostly return to him during this last week, his temper still spiked dangerously at the oddest times, but this was mostly under control, thanks to his healing factor working overdrive in an attempt to stabilize his ever-changing body. His healing factor constnatly being in use resulted in two things, his exhausted state and an insatiable appetite, the youth had been eating even more than usual, which to some was honestly a frightening fact. Kyle had been very quiet, he not wanting to whine or groan forever about his frustration over his condition, he had caused enough trouble already, by his guess.
Giving a heavy huff, WildHeart lowered himself slowly onto the stands at the Grass Arena, having to grip Jason's shoulder to accomplish this action. The sun was warm and the heavy humidity surrounded him like a blanket. Cat slitted eyes fell closed as he breathed out a slow huff of air as he relaxed into the seat. He had insisted on coming to the tournament, to watch his kind fight. He had a good deal to sort out in his scattered head, so much he had to think over. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into the farthest corner of his closet, shut his eyes to the world and lay in a painful, exhausting darkness, but somehow he could not. Somehow a voice told him he needed to face this head on, he needed to watch his own kind, he needed to feel take it all in and connect himself with it. He had been wrong, he knew this in his gut. He had been going about this all wrong, and he had utterly no idea why this had so suddenly occurred to him.
"Who's fightin'?" His voice came out rough and gravely, even to his own ears as he forced blue eyes open again. He studied the arena before him, sniffing at the air in to see if he recognized the scent of any spectators or even one of the fighters. It was going to be a long and exhausting day, the simple effort of moving from arena to arena was exhausting to Gibney, but he was going to last as long as he could. He was able to sit in the Humans only area, thanks to Jason's influence, and was as usual, wearing a leather, spiked collar rather than the standard issue Revolve collars. He was sure to attract more than a few looks, his only regret was that he was so obviously weak, he wished he could put on a better show for these normal asshats. Humpf.
--
'Thankfully, not you' had been his first answer to that question, but the generally smiling old man decided to hold that back instead of admit to it. The desire to spare his whelp any pain overrode his somewhat sarcastic response in the moment and he simply handed over the fighting list for the weekend. Revolve had, as always, still sent things out to the owner about the fights, even if they were not participating. The old man always considered it a personal invitation, and hadn't thought anything about sharing the items he was sent with his whelp. "Feel free to take a look, dearone." Jason spoke without looking his direction, instead his attention was on the room around them.
This fights crowd seemed more charged and excitable than the last time he had been at the pits, and while a part of that could have been his separation from the situation being that his lover was not in one of them, at the same time, tonight seemed to have a totally different feel to it. Something was in the air, and he couldn't tell if it was supposed to be warning him away from this place, or encouraging his attendance. He glanced over at Kyle, understanding in that moment that if something went wrong, he'd have to be the one to get the boy out of there. He was the strong one this time, not his lovable fighter. That in and of itself was reason to worry, and for that very reason, he had increased his personnel for the evening. at least Sean was on hand should he need someone to meet him halfway to the Jet in a hurry. Their very formal ex-Marine was Jason's personal safety blanket for items in this vein, and for that very reason, the elder had decided to give him overtime pay to be here. It wasn't likely something he wanted to do, but at least the hired help didn't really complain too loudly.
People always stared, but this time it worried him to some extent. Something didn't seem to feel or fit right, and the way they were all abuzz with something not of their own creation only bothered him more. Something simply felt off,but instead of stirring himself, and likely his companion as well, up with too much worry, the elder simply smiled and dismissed his instincts. "Are you still hungry, Kyle? I can have the help fetch us something." Another gentle tone lifted from his throat. His lover needed the caring, and he was more than willing to oblige.
--
Kyle looked almost blankly at the schedule, his tired mind attempting to recognize things. A few names stood out, the Black Blockers and of course a few of his fellow Red'ers were in the tournament. Something felt naggingly familiar about someone in this fight, but for the moment he just could not make the connection. He rolled his shoulder sand turned a bit pale as his eyes found the name "Violet." Damn. She was in it again. A small rumbling, troubled sound left him as he handed the schedule back without comment, running a rough hand down his face.
Kyle did not feel anything especially different today, other than the lack of his own excitement. He was used to the buzzing energy of the stands and their spectators, he was used to his own anticipation of a fight leaving him prickled and eager. Today he was tired, today watching the fights was not about strategy or preparing for his next one. Today it was a tortured process of attempting to come to a realization which he could almost feel breaking. Just what it was he was attempting to find out,remember, decide, come to, whatever he was not entirely sure just yet, but he somehow knew he needed to be here, right here, to get the feel of it.
"'M fine now," he murmured after a momentarily pause to touch his stomach and consider the question. "But 'm sure I'll be ready t' eat in a hour." The hunger spikes were as frustrating to Kyle as they were expensive to Jason. He just wanted something to go back to normal, something to be predictable, the same, how they were only a month ago. He had yet to realize how drastically his looks had changed, only aware the he had shed a pound or so of fur over the last few weeks. He sighed and, only half aware of his actions, leaned his shoulder against Jason, sharing a bit of his weight and burden with the taller man, eager to be closer to his strong, calm energy. That would get him through the day, he was sure of it.
--
Jason felt the gentle leaning, enjoying the comfort of the other's presence, a silent assurance that no matter what happened, the boy still hadn't died. "Then in an hour we'll get you another meal. I could use a cup of coffee myself." The elder had been more than indulgent when Kyle's appetite had spiked suddenly, the man had more money then he logically needed, and thus it made for an easy adjustment from serving three meals to serving as many as the boy needed. Jason had ordered in more meat then his kitchen could hold, and the sheer amount of it started to decline within moments of delivery as the cook had decided to be intelligent and start to serve once they had the space. At least his staff still had their heads on straight.
The schedule settled back into Jason's hand without a word. He knew that logically, the whelp would want to see Violet fight, or he would want to be as far away from it as possible. The reaction brought an internal struggle without much surprise, but Jason calmed himself for now. It meant nothing, or so he told himself. "Did you want to see her fight?" The old bastard couldn't help the note of sadness, or was it fear, that lit the end of the tonation to his voice. Worry crossed his brow, and the attempt to clear it from his eyes likely failed miserably.
--
'Anks," he muttered quietly, giving another small sigh as he leaned lightly against the taller male. "'S warm 'ere. I keep fergettin' how sticky it is," he rumbled absently, rolling his shoulders to try and fight the way his T-shirt was clinging to his shoulders. Sitting was already helping him recover, the simple move from the plane to the arena stands had taken quite a bit out of him. He had turned into what most would call a handsome young man since his strange spike, but it had left him drained beyond words more often than not.
"I... I dunno." It was an honest answer to Jason's question, his head suddenly ducking forward, he half hiding behind that long hair of his. "...I..." he began, then heaved a heavy breath. Blue eyes shot quickly around the stands, as if making sure no one was too close or paying too much attention before he shifted a bit closer to Jason and spoke very softly, whisper coming out in a rumbling, low sound. "Somethin's changed. D' yew feel it?" There was troubled expression on his face, not panic or fear, just a kind of calm confusion.
--
The boy was right, things had changed in their short absence. Something didn't seem quite right in that moment, their appearance had turned heads as always, but nothing completely out of the ordinary was going on. Just a small change here, a different face there. Jason's usually paranoid mind was well at home in a crowd of people who could leave his whelp alone, and thus a part of him had relaxed at being here just as a part of him was the complete opposite. In many ways, he could belong with these people, yet in many others he never would. "Something, but mildly. Can you explain it?" He looked to his friend, more worry crossing his features, but it passed like an evening breeze and all his eyes held afterwards was rapt attention for his blond companion.
--
He shrugged and looked out over the arena, running a hand over his oddly smooth jaw. He was so used to it being prickly and fur patched, the smooth skin was quite an unexpected change. "...'M not sure..." he confessed, a heavy sigh leaving his chest. "..I guess.. I jus'..." he began, slouching back a little. "...I think... 'm an idiot." It wasn't said with his usual miserable tone, but rather with a heavy, introspective sigh. "You uh... I mean... I know I am one but uh..." He trailed off and heaved another sigh. His looks may have changed, but he still failed miserably with words.
--
Jason grinned, noticing the constant trend in Kyle's usual style of communication issues not breaking with all the other changes. "Take a moment and think about the words you are going to use, see if they fit right, and then say them." He collected himself into his seat to be patient. Things worth doing took time, after all. "I'll be waiting for you to speak when you are ready, to describe what you're feeling as you see fit." He could be a very very patient man when he wanted to be, and if it was for Kyle, then he wanted to be.
--
He gave a loud, heavy sigh at the elder's encouragement, shaking his head. "I.. I dun really know it m'self. I felt like... like I needed t' come 'ere... t' try an' figure it out. I think... I think I been doin' things wrong. An' I dunno whut t' change er... I..." another sigh and another drop of his head, hiding his face behind a curtain of blonde hair. "...'m an idiot."
--
"Well, identifying the feeling is a start. You feel like you've been doing something wrong. What so you think it was?" He crossed one long leg over the other, settling back and maintaining his patient stance, though one arm did sneak it's way along Kyle's shoulders to lend him support and to socially snub the woman near by who was taking a little too much interest in his whelp. "I doubt that you're an idiot, my dear boy." His tone wasn't direct, simply gentle, and he lightly chided the blonde as he turned his eyes back on the hidden face of his friend. "Sometimes you are a bit thick headed, but you're not an idiot. You've never been stupid."
--
"...I wanna 'elp." His voice was still low and rough, he actually leaning into that supporting arm. he'd grown a little more comfortable with things. Still not overly so, but between comfort and his weakened state leaving him wanting contact and support, he happily accepted the other's attentions. "I really do... I... all 'm good at's fightin'... but... I think... I don' think... 's gonna work. Not me, 'nyway. 'M not..." there was a trial off, a troubled tone entering his voice, throat tightening in the difficult confession. "'M not good enough..." He dropped his face into one clawed hand, rubbing his palm over his face as he rumbled, "I think yer th' only one who thinks 'at. 'M a pretty stupid mutt most a th' time." He lifted his blue eyes a little as the fighters were announced, the feral scanning the arena before him
--
"You're just organized different, Kyle. You think differently. You work differently. It doesn't make you stupid." And though the topic was serious, the old man started to smile. It wasn't the conversation that made him grin, it was the way his lover was leaning into him. The acceptance of his attention, the small response in kind, had brought the delight to his face. "Are you giving up, or are you considering adding people to the plan?"
--
"I'm hella different," he muttered with another frustrated grumble. He closed his eyes as he attempted to think the situation over. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to fix it? He had absolutely no idea. "I dunno," he admitted with a huffing grumble, lower lip poking out in a pout. "Yer s'posed t' be th' brains 'ere," he reminded with another small frown.
--
"You keep saying that. I have no answer for this island. I have my own answer and that's all. I know what I believe, what I feel is right. Their decisions is unfortunately theirs. Can you make a whole group of people believe what is right and what is wrong?" A light kiss made it's way to the top of the ferals blond head, and Jason stayed where he was. "Without a direct show of how things can be different and why it's important to save their hides, I don't see anyone following suit too fast." It was an honest point, and he would be willing to do something if he could consider what that would be exactly.
--
Kyle sighed deeply, trouble etched in his eyes and across his features, the line between his brows growing deeper with trouble. "Well. Fuck." He rumbled with a slow sigh. "I can't jus'... jus' wait ferever. I can't.. people die 'ere every day... 's not right an'..." It was just then that he glanced up and saw a flutter of pink caught his attention. The fighters were in the arena and one of them was an adorable girl who looked like she sprang out of a cartoon and should be dancing on a rainbow and scattering gumdrops. Kyle's heart sank. She looked so young, so delicate, not someone who should be out there. "P..People like 'at..." eh murmured, pain filling his eyes as he watched her flit brightly around the arena.
--
"You're right. They don't deserve to be here, but until we can come up with something to do about it, I'm at a loss." Nothing he had considered would have honestly worked. A physical attack was impossible, a technology based attack was less possible than the physical, and the whole island was basically blocked from any kind of telepathic or otherwise movement. "However, we can be an example of hope for them. Show them what can happen if they can agree to get along with at least one person who can also guarantee to respect them. It's possible."
--
"Fuck everything," Gibney moaned as he slouched in his chair, watching the pink female flutter around. His gaze shifted as he looked over to the other opponent, he suddenly perking up. She was a slim woman with long, bright green hair, and Kyle's eyes were quite suddenly locked on her, an in tense expression on his face.
--
The sudden tenseness in the other made the hair on the back of Jason's neck stand on end. He was used to reasoned shifts in attitude and mood swings in that vein, but the sudden changes as it had become more recently were a different set entirely. He was still attempting to understand what had set things off and on like that for the last few weeks, but nothing had made sense thus far. He had nothing to go on should the boy end up in another breaking down episode. "...Kyle?" His voice was full of worry now, one hand placed on his whelp's arm in an attempt to get the blonds attention.
--
The hand on his arm did seem to help snap him somewhat out of it, he shook his head a little as he watched the fight begin. "...I know 'er. I mean... I think I know 'er..." he spoke quietly, pressing his lips together for a long moment. "I... 'd I fight 'er?" He seemed very distant suddenly, his tired mind attempting to piece things together. "Yeah... I think I did..." he scratched at his jaw thoughtfully again before he took in a slow breath. "..I think she kicked m' ass..."
--
"I think you could be right, my boy." Jason nodded lightly. "I vaguely remember her name." His eyes watched his friend carefully, curious if the information would cause issues in the whelp's mind frame. The elder had been a bit worried about what would happen if they revisited the pits with Kyle still in this state. He couldn't tell what made it worse, but so far, the end result seemed to improve the boy's outward appearance in more than one manner. He had become more attractive, more enjoyable to be around, and more mellow once the mood swings and violent tendencies had passed. In a way, it was a lot like his own general tendencies, so he found it understandable if not flat out logical once he could understand the reasoning behind the violence. However, he still did not understand the things that had caused the issue to begin with.
--
"Heh... well... guess I shoulda gotten 'er number, too," he rumbled with a hint of an amused tone. He well knew that he'd had his furry butt handed to him by any number of females, Ribbon being one of the best well known. He let out a long, slow breath, letting his body relax yet again. He kept having to remind himself to relax and let his muscles untense, otherwise he was going to exhaust himself even more quickly. He was used to being on alert, at least to some extent, so relaxing was new, novel and rather distant. "...I can't b'lieve they let someone like 'at fight," he muttered again, nodding toward the pink spritely form fluttering around the ring. "She's so... I mean she's..." Someone like him? Fuck, he was built to fight, it made sense. But her? she looked as if she could not hurt a fly.
--
"She looks so breakable." And coming from Jason, that was something indeed. "She looks like she could snap in half and likely couldn't take a solid hit without breaking something." He nodded, completely understanding the consideration for the others, especially the women fighters. It was odd that he had actually picked a male to pit against the rest, becuase he could have just as easily purchased a woman to begin with and simply saved their life from the island's torture. Though at the time, Kyle fit his plans easier, and still did. He couldn't have pitted a woman as easily as he had pitted Kyle against the other mutants in an attempt to drive them towards the top and earn the respect of the rest of the owners to bring about their own point of view on the whole subject as a topic of general thought. What they had done would never have happened if he handn't purchased the furry mutt.
--
"See...?" he frowned, brows knitting as he slouched deeper into his chair, brows knitting as he stared at the arenas with a heavy, troubled sigh. "Nothin' I do's gonna change 'is. No 'mout of fightin's gonna make 'is change. It's..." he breathed out another troubled groan as he stared distantly at the fight unfolding. "She's fun t' watch.." he noted as the two women squared off. He blinked as the pink faerie fluttered toward the stands, he ducking a little out of instinct,t hen gave a few rough coughs as a thin cloud of pink passed over the pair for a moment. "Whut wus 'at?"
--
The dust was sparely and shone briefly as it filtered down into the stands. The crowd ooh-ed and ahh-ed as she passed, the look of it making her illuminate in glitter. Like a supernatural creature unfolding itself from the darkness around them and passing back into it in a small burst of sparkle. His imagination even added on the sound of little bells, likely a childhood additive from some book or other he had read through as a young man. A creative imagination could take flight at any moment, and this was more than likely with something as seemingly fanciful as a tiny pixie girl who flew around the island and sprinkled them with magic dust. "Tinkerbell seem well at home in the arena, for all her broken possibilities. And I don't know what it is she's dropping, but it can't be good. She's in a fight. We should move back." Though by the time his logical mind assessed the situation fully, it was likely too late. They had already been dusted, and only time would tell what all happened to them from here on out.
--
Kyle only grunted, at the idea of moving and at the idea that the pink haired girl was doing fight in the fight. Someone like that should not be forced into this kind of life, it was just... wrong. Somehow it was acceptable for him or others how were obviously equipped for a physical brawl, but someone like this..? There had always been something primal in Kyle which made him protective of females, and this delicate little creature had him feeling it full force. He blinked as his bushy brows suddenly knitted up. He turned to look at Jason, blue eyes blinking quickly. "I... ... ... d' yew see rabbits?"
--
Jason blinked. "No... but the colored lights are starting to give me a headache." He looked at Kyle and blinked when the boy's fur started floating as if it were in the water, the undercurrents flitting it this way and that. Something odd was going on indeed, and perhaps that's the direction that the glittered drug would push them, and it would all make sense if Jason hadn't been dusted by it as well. "....We need to move, Kyle." He had a sinking feeling about this. It felt too much like an acid trip, something he had decided to attempt in his younger days and had refused to ever do it again afterwards. He was simply glad that the drug had worn off at the time and had wanted to avoid it in the future, apparently this was unavoidable.
--
"I see 'em..." he muttered, nose wrinkling as he sniffed at the air, blue eyes darting from side to side. "But I don' smell 'em..." That in and of itself was strange. Kyle could smell just about anything. Then again, it dawned on him at last that the rabbits looked very... cartoony. Not quite realistic. He moaned as Jason pressed the moving issue again, blue eyes falling closed. "I don' wanna... 'm tiiiired..." he... whined? Yes, the ferocious feral was whining.
--
Apparently the boy was too tired to move, but something wasn't right here. "I don't like it, it doesn't feel right." He shook his head, putting his foot down. "We are going even if I have to carry your furry hide back outside myself. Let's go." He stood up and didn't wait for a response, but simply heaved the boy into his arms and marched with him out the door, careful not to hit the whelp's blond head on the doorway in the process. He ducked and maneuvered through the halls, around the people, and finally into the open air, settling his deluded mutt at the base of a tree and kept his eyes focused on that blond covered head.
--
That certainly caught the attention of the blonde fighter. "'EY! Pumme down--I c'n walk!" He gritted his teeth, showing fangs in a less than half-hearted growl as he tried to get on his feet. Damn it, he did not want to be carried around like this! He huffed as he was at last sat down, he glaring up at Jason. He was embarrassed and the rabbits were STILL THERE and now two of them were laughing at him. Humpf. "Whut th' hell's goin' on?" He asked, dropping his face into his rough palm before he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to rub the rabbits away.
--
"It's a drug. If you don't look out of the corners of your eyes too much, you'll be alright. Just focus straight ahead and don't do anything too sudden. I'm going to find something to wash this shit through our systems." He grumbled something mildly incoherent before shoving himself forcefully off the ground and attempting to stand, though his legs were wobbly. "Stay here." It was the closest thing he could manage to a direct order at that point, and afterwards he walked towards the next building, trying to make his way to the cafe. They would have something to assist in the problem. Coffee was good to stop metabolic reactions in the stomach or to speed up the nervous system, it would work out, right? Good enough. He needed to make a decision and fast before this dusting made them both raving mad.
--
"Fine," Kyle grumbled. It was more of a pouty, sulky comment than anything else. He sank deeper against the tree trunk behind himself and let his eyes close. Even with them shut the damn rabbits were still there. He felt strange, and he did not like feeling that way. He huffed and waited. Jason would be back soon. Time seemed to be flying by, and a few minutes later he felt as if he had been sitting for hours.