Puppies and Unicorns (Drew, Sebby)

Everything smelled so new and interesting now! There were things that had smells that he'd never even known had smells. Even people had smells! In the time from the site of their fight to this place the more human thoughts in his puppy brain had worked out that Short Stuff had shifted him to keep him alive. It had been meant as a mercy and since Short Stuff seemed so desperate that he stay in that form until they got where ever they were going Drew had obliged by not trying very hard to figure out how to shift back. Of course that wasn't the only reason.

Reason one was simple. He'd been changed to this form when he was bleeding badly and might have died. When he was a puppy he wasn't hurt. Drew was reasonably reluctant to change back and find out if his wounds were still there. Reason two was the novelty. Everything was new and exciting. From the tail he suddenly possessed to that shiny speck on the sidewalk that he just had to sniff. It was all so interesting that Drew was pretty content to stay a dog just to explore.

But the last reason was the most important. When he was a dog he was free. Somewhere between bleeding and here, where ever here was, Drew had discovered that like this his promises didn't follow him. Despite being somewhat puppyish Drew felt the most like Drew that he had in months. All those promises took a toll on a man's mind. Warped him from who he truly was. In this body he could think and feel clearly and it was wonderful! Just being given a chance to reconnect with who he was without those promises. A chance to clear his head was astounding. It gave him time to think about things and decide that while he'd initially been pretty ecstatic about the new dimension of his power he wasn't so joyous about it now. Putting other people under the same chains that weighed him down. Unburdened by those chains it seemed a monstrous thing to do.

But to look at the grey and black puppy you wouldn't know he was thinking such thoughts. Not with the way he was wandering, against Short Stuff's orders, around the new place and cataloging the smells. Of course after a moment he heard mention of a puppy and turned to look at the man. He had a horn! And a tail! And his hair was white but he didn't look that old to Drew. So he immediately categorized him as a mutant. And then he went back to sniffing around. There were other smells to smell before he paid attention to the white haired guy!

Swords re-sheathed, Sebastian debated whether he should turn off the computer first, or turn on the lights first. It was rather dark, with only the light of the computer illuminating exactly what he had been up to. Then again, at least his evening activities hadn't included stabbing puppies, or stabbing people and turning them into puppies.

He reached for the light switch first, then blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the brightness.

Malako was a blood stained mess. He was, of course, uninjured, but apparently in a previous incantation the puppy had not been. Oh wasn't the life of a fledgling immortal hard?

“So, if you didn't want him to die, why did you stab him in the first place?”

The puppy wandered under the desk, sniffing everywhere he went. If he was really a person, Sebastian should have no need to worry about him chewing cords or peeing on the floor, right?

The unicorn man surveyed Malako's disarray once more, trying to estimate whether it would be easier to wash his clothes or send them to the dry cleaner. There was also something black on the boy's neck. An ouroboros design, it looked like. Was that a tattoo or had someone drawn it on?

“How do you keep that from healing away,” he had to wonder out loud.

"Well, Boss Man, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Malako answered, rubbing idly at his neck. He couldn't feel anything there: didn't feel different, really, at all. He didn't need... didn't need someone's mutation telling him not to kill people. He wouldn't have done it, anyway. He didn't—

“Please don’t. Please.”

"Trust him."[/color]

...Especially not when the guy was about to finish the job for him, anyway. That chewing noise under the desk. The one that wasn't helping his headache. Was that...?

Sebastian's internet connection died a teething death. Better than his power cord.

>> “How do you keep that from healing away.”

The shifter dropped his hand back to his side, and gave Sebastian a deadpan stare. "So." So tattoos were like scars? They were... supposed to heal?

His gaze dropped back to the puppy. Who'd crawled out from under the desk, and was now playing tug-of-war with the elder immortal's coat. Because they hadn't trashed enough clothing tonight, apparently.

"So," he repeated, staring down at the thing. "That changing back. Any time."

White Haired Man wasn't nearly as fun as his coat promised. It was a lying fun coat. A coat of lies. He'd only wanted to see what the cables were like! And then he was picked up off of the floor and held at arms length. Naturally he squirmed. There was so much more to sniff and chew and explore! Drew couldn't do that while being held!

Oh but White Haired Man and Short Stuff wanted him to turn back into a human. That wasn't very fun. No, not very fun at all. White Haired Man and Short Stuff were not fun. Then again Short Stuff had stabbed him so he'd never been fun. Just cute and fun to tease/flirt with. White Haired Man was too serious and no fun either. They wouldn't play with him. With some effort Drew forced his thoughts into a more human state. The white haired man was probably the healer that Short Stuff had mentioned taking him to. That meant that despite his enjoyment of being a puppy he did need to shift back.

Only how did one shift back? Just...try? Maybe think human thoughts? There probably wasn't an off switch. With his only option being to concentrate on trying to be human again Drew did just that. He was not a dog and did not want to be a dog. So it should be as simple as that right? Right...

Though to his surprise that particular line of thought seemed to work as the more he concentrated on being human rather than being a dog the less dog-like he felt. It took some minutes but eventually the white haired man held a bleeding, naked human instead of a squirming grey puppy.

"Hey, sorry about the coat." he croaked in a weak voice.

Could he go back to being a puppy again by thinking about it? No? Darn.

Then, quite suddenly the puppy was a young man again. A much heavier man than puppy. The unicorn, no matter how much he worked out couldn't keep the man's feet off the floor.

He was more a boy, really. Just barely over twenty from the looks of it. He had hair the color of a forest and blood the color of rust that leaked a onto the carpet before the icy healing finished knitting his skin closed and sealing it inside. Malako hadn't been kidding when he said he'd stabbed the man.

The tattoos didn't go away, just like Malako's didn't. He even had one that matched it exactly. When things resisted mutational healing, it tended to be related to mutations. Interesting.

Interesting like a naked man practically dangling from his fingertips. At least he wasn't a puppy any more. Sebastian retracted his hands, leaving him standing on his own two feet, once again perfectly healthy.

“Now. I need an explanation.” One did not just bleed all over the carpet and then not explain what happened, not if one wanted similar help in the future. One also did not joke about cat videos to avoid answering the question, or had better not. Near murder was not a joke.

'..and he didn't react well to it'. He didn't—ha!

Well. Wasn't that a nice, concise edition of tonight's events.

"You collared me," the shifter burst out with. Rabbit Food had taken his mutation, and wrapped it around his neck. And he was just standing there, explaining how he was ever so sorry, but it was permanent, nothing for it.

"Have you tried Adapted fields?" Calley pressed. "Laser surgery? Ink manipulators? Healing that just... just takes a bit of time to push the ink out?" His skin felt colder than usual: that was his own healing still working on the problem, right?

Sorry didn't even begin to cover it. Sorry earned the stare it deserved. With a flick, Calley took his own sword out of the wrap he'd been hiding it in on the way over—the man's coat, to be specific. He tossed it towards Male Nudity, and resumed staring at the wall.

"There should be enough clean clothes for us, between the donations bin and the lost and found," he said. "I get first dibs." He certainly had enough experience dressing himself from there.