I’m Lost and I’m Found (open, BH)

[Rahne Sinclair]

(( OOC: Call this a few days after Rahne arrives at the BH… long enough that if you want to have already met off-camera that’s cool; short enough that if you want to actually do an intro scene, that’s plausible. ))

Rahne still has difficulty assimilating just how much has changed in such a short time. She’s gone from being a lone monster to part of a group, itself just one of a number of groups of these so-called ‘mutants’. They aren’t friends, exactly… not yet, at any event… but they’re like her, and they’re willing to accept her, and she hasn’t experienced that since she was a wee girl.

She’s also eaten better since coming here than she has in her entire life, even before her exile. The food all tastes strangely flat and processed, but there’s a lot of it and more variety than she’s every seen before, and she succumbed to the temptation of gluttony before she’d been here a day.

Which is why she’s outside the complex now, jumping from tree to tree in her hybrid form… in part to burn away the feeling of heaviness that always comes after a feast, and in part to escape the sinful thoughts of ice cream and chocolate cake that have plagued her for days.

That’s when she catches the sound of someone else moving through the grounds before she sees or scents anything, and reacts by instinct: lands, rolls, shifts fully into her lupine form and bursts through the underbrush to challenge whoever it is with a fierce and entirely heartfelt growl.

[Manslaughter]

(I couldn't resist. Hope you don't mind. (: )

Beneath an outstretched limb for shade, Roger takes a crack at a tree with a small stick, scraping bark up and flaking it off and every now and then stopping as though he were listening. Feeling--or hearing--nothing, he continues again until he grows bored and stands, dragging the stick behind him and slipping through some bushes to another tree several yards away. His red hair glints in the filtered sunlight, betraying his otherwise slim presence in the woods. For a moment he suddenly pauses.

Here. There. Here. There. Near. Far. Near. Far.. The rapid changes of nervous impulses race down his spine and he feels them like a feather between his shoulder blades down to the tips of his toes. Roger tilts his head to one side, blinking slowly as he listens to the leaves whistling in the breeze until they silence completely. He does not let the stillness betray him, knowing good and well that he is not alone. Someone's out there, but he doesn't know who. Just someone.

He doesn't let it bother him anymore and he continues on to his next tree, yanking and pulling the stick behind him as it snags on branches and weeds, as though he were purposely making his presence known, or was childishly unaware of any danger. Roger nimbly hops over a small bush and almost rolls onto the leaf-covered ground, playfully kicking up some of them as he goes.

A low, gutteral growl catches his attention, and Roger stiffens, still holding the stick loosely in one of his hands and unflinching as something very furry crashes through the foilage. He twitches slightly but generally appears unperturbed, just as someone deaf might react to a sound. The boy becomes aware of dark, bristled fur and a very 'angry noise' that he deduces from the growling.

"Nice doggy..," he breathes, making a small step forward, naive to the fact that the lupine creature could tear his throat out if she wanted.

[Rahne Sinclair]

> “ Nice doggy…”

It takes Rahne a moment to realize this child actually belongs in the compound, and at first she takes umbrage – who sends children into battle?!? – before remembering that the Brotherhood are like her. She had first manifested the Beast shortly after her first blood, when she was likely younger than this boy, and been exiled for it… perhaps it is the same with him.

"Och, ye poor wee bairn," she murmurs, shifting into her hopefully less-intimidating hybrid form as he approaches her. "What brings ye to a place like this, among such people? Are ye also a – mutant?" She stumbles over the unfamiliar word. "Are yer parents here?"

[Sherridan Kaine]

A canine presence on the Brotherhood territory? Unacceptable! He walks quickly over the grounds, searching for this mutt that needs be taught a lesson. After all, he does despise dogs. He moves silently, without the single crack of a branch or rustle of grass. His tail moves freely from side to side as he prowls along the trees, only to stop dead in his tracks upon noticing the wolf and Roger. For a second, a spark of protective rage surges through his whole body, but he shakes his head and opens his eyes just in time to see the transformation of the wolf. Wonderful. All I needed was a canine morph in this place. he thinks as he hears her talk and steps out of the woods, still wearing an expensive black suit, most likely with a brand name of European origin, remnant of a series of business meetings he had earlier in the day.

>"What brings ye to a place like this, among such people? Are ye also a – mutant? Are yer parents here?"

"Indeed, he is. And, unfortunately, no, his parents are not present here. He is as much part of the family as anyone else." he responds to her questions, walking idly towards her, his sunglasses covering the ice blue slitted eyes.

He waves to Roger shortly and flashes a smile. "Hey there, buddy." he says reaching a hand into his pocket. After a while, he has learned it is best to have a few sugar deposits ready, in case Roger needed encouragement to do something, or encouragement not to do something. At least, that was the general plan. Time to test it out, no?

He walks closer to the two, standing now right in between them, the three of them forming the vertexes of a small triangle. He fishes out a chocolate bar. "Want one?" he asks Roger, his tail changing color into the black fur with white spots.

((Don't mind?))

[Rahne Sinclair]

She smells the cat-man – the other cat-man, she realizes, not the fanged brute she’d seen in the computer room earlier – approaching and schools herself to respond politely, though she can’t help an annoyed glare at his answers. "Can the boy nae speak f’r hisself, then?"

She regrets her strident voice almost immediately, as it becomes clear that he meant only to protect the boy from a stranger… a sentiment she can empathize with. Clearly the two are friends, and she reminds herself that while she’s more than a guest here, she is still the newest arrival at this compound and needs to be polite.

"Och, I’m sorry t’be s’sharp with ye… just nerves, is all. ‘tis all so new to me, ye ken?" She smiles tentatively and adds "M’name’s Rahne… I suppose ye could consider me a new recruit."

[Manslaughter]

Och, ye poor wee bairn. Roger watches in an absent-minded way as the animal before him has shifted into a more human-like being, bipedal and now capable of speech. It is clear he is unafraid. What brings ye to a place like this, among such people? Are ye also a – mutant? Are yer parents here? The boy opens his mouth to speak but slowly shuts it as Sherridan emerges into view, wearing a rather fanciful suit, clearly something not suited to frolicking in the woods. Indeed, he is. And, unfortunately, no, his parents are not present here. He is as much part of the family as anyone else. His focus shifts almost immediately, smiling dreamily as he slowly becomes entranced with the older man's tail.

Hey there, buddy. Roger bears a slow grin, happy to hear such a name given to him. His interest perks and changes once more as Sherridan searches for something in his pocket. Voicing his interest with a soft 'mmm?' sound in the back of his throat, he rocks forward onto his tiptoes, using the stick as a brace as though he could get at a better angle to see what Sherridan is looking for. He stills as Sherridan pulls out a chocolate bar, and Roger's brows arch in excitement.

Want one? Bobbing his head in agreement before he seems to think for a moment, letting the stick dangle from his hand and his shoulders drop, Roger tilts his head up at a childish angle before quickly adding,"...please.", as though he had strongly resisted the memory of his lessons of being forced to punctuate every request with a 'please'..

[Sherridan Kaine]

> "Can the boy nae speak f’r hisself, then?"

He skips over the comment as if it had never dared rear its ugly, disturbing face in his life, and instead watches Roger start grinning, producing a smile of its own, glad to have been recognized as a familiar face. After all, one never knew with Roger. What went inside of that unique chamber was only Roger's to know, and the world's to fear.

>"...please."

Sherridan sends a smile to his charge, showing that he did good. Even though the boy does not want or need to integrate with the rest of society, some manners are still appropriate. And so he walks closer to the boy and gives him the chocolate bar and swishes his spotted tail a bit before returning attention to the newbie.

>"Och, I’m sorry t’be s’sharp with ye… just nerves, is all. ‘tis all so new to me, ye ken?"

Even though the language is somewhat complicated to comprehend at first, Sherridan gets used to it quickly, and nods politely. After all, cats and dogs are not necessarily always mortal enemies, right? Well, might as well give it a try.

"It is understandable, considering the apparent mutations each of us possesses, correct? I believe we can overcome those, however."

He arches a brow, as if expecting her to agree, but does not in any way signal that this indeed was the intention- in fact, it is a mere gesture that attempts to inspire conversation, but then again, racial differences sometimes mean allot.

>"M’name’s Rahne… I suppose ye could consider me a new recruit."

"Ah, yes, Rhane Sinclair, from around Inverness in Scotland, right?" he sets the statement as a question, but actually it is simply a statement that he does, in fact, know a lot more than shows. After all, what else should he do with so much excess money (a financial state which he, quite frequently, tends to imply through his clothing and behavior), than make sure to check the backgrounds of all of his fellow Brotherhood members.

He reaches to his pocket and leaves his hand in it, perhaps hinting to Roger that there might be more prizes in the magical pouch.

[Rahne Sinclair]

Watching the two of them interact is charming… the boy seems utterly trusting, and Rahne finds herself wondering how such an innocent child had found himself in a den of sinners like this. Of course, she knows better – the appearance of innocence never matters; the Devil himself spake as a lamb in the Scriptures – but it’s difficult to remember that sometimes.

> " It is understandable, considering the apparent mutations each of us possesses, correct? I believe we can overcome those, however."

The man’s comments take her attention away from the boy and his chocolate, but as with so much of what everyone here says about “mutants” and such, Rahne can’t entirely understand his comments. What are we supposed to overcome? His facial expression doesn’t help clarify what sort of response he’s expecting, leaving her somewhat anxious. "Er… I s’pose?" she replies, figuring that’s safe.

> " Ah, yes, Rhane Sinclair, from around Inverness in Scotland, right? "

"Aye, that I am," she snaps back, irritation rising again at the superior tone in the man’s voice. "And it’s a funny thing about Inverness in Scotland, it is, that back home when somebody introduces themselves it’s considered rude to withhold yer own name. Is nae like that here, is’t?"