Her steps were slow but firm as she made her way up the drive way. There wasn't anything that seemed out of place from a distant, though her clothing wasn't everyday. Dressed for a climate obviously colder she had on an over sized knitted red sweater and the black and white striped shirt under it that fell almost to her knees. Her jeans were long and faded with age. As she stepped closer other odds and ends became obvious her ears where adorned with many different earrings and there seemed to be no room left for any more. Her short hair was almost jet black and was broken up only by large honey yellow stripes, but most shocking of all were her matching yellow eyes witch flickered nervously around trying to take in everything at once. She had a backpack slung over her shoulder and a tag that dangled from it, written in large black easily read letters was 'Nash' and Nash she was.
She wasn't all that confident about just walking up to the door and knocking. This place was large and a little off-putting, it seemed nice enough but Nash never based anything on how nice something looked. She felt her skin stretch and then relax as one of her companions slid across her shoulder and down her back. Like a pat on the back it pushed her forward, boosting her confidence, if only a little. She paused before the door and shifted her bag onto her other shoulder before knocking. She twitched as she did so, maybe she should have told the taxi to wait at least then she could have made a quick escape if things went bad. Maybe, she told herself, this wasn't such a good idea after all but it was to late now.

Door. A swinging or sliding barrier that will close the entrance to a room or building or vehicle; anything providing a means of access (or escape); a panel or barrier, usually hinged, sliding, or electronic, that is used to cover an opening in a wall or partition going into a building or space. A door can be opened to give access and closed more or less securely. By Google's definition, that was a door. By Calley's definition, door: a tall construct of humans that, even in a mutant school, was not well adapted to those who did not look the norm. In other words, door: not meant for tigers.

Calley's eyes narrowed. His large paws were planted in front of him. His haunches were seated irritably on the hardwood floor of the Mansion's entryway. His orange and black ringed tail, curled loosely around his rear, gave a slow curl from its tip, then fell back down. Curl. Down. Curl. Down.

"Door," the large Bengal tiger addressed its stately mahogany foe, "you have won the staring contest, but the war has only just begun. You will be opened. Heed my words. Hide your women and children. You, door, are going to be opened." The words were spoken with a proudly straightened spine and a whiskered head held high, carrying only a slight lisp as they passed sharpened teeth.

The door accepted his declaration of war with that same confident silence with which it had refused to open, despite his attempts to head butt, shoulder knock, and futilely-but-cutely paw at its round knob. Round knobs: the hellspawn children of doors and people with serious underlying animal prejudices. The door accepted his declaration, and knocked with laughter.

...The tiger blinked its way back to reality.

"Umm," it shouted, hopefully loud enough to be heard through his adversary's thick skin, "err, ah, umm... Just a second! Technical non-opposable-thumb-difficulties in progress! Be with you in a second!"

He stared at the door. Staaaaare. The door continued its frustratingly door-like behavior. The tiger laid its ears back, and began to thoroughly maul that round doorknob in a way that Ms. Nightowl probably would not approve of later on. But it was either open this thing as a tiger or open it as a naked teenage boy, and Calley had made his decision when he first padded down the steps from his room, sans clothes but plus fur.

crish slick grr nails-on-chalkboard! pant pant MAUL turn VICTORY CLICK

The door swung inwards, that stupid round doorknob clutched firmly in the mouth of the tiger, who walked it backwards gingerly. When he let it go, he granted himself a simple moment to try and cough the taste out of his mouth. Door knobs: foul creations bearing the unholy taste known only as Legion.

He raised his muzzle towards the girl. The new girl--he'd never smelled her around here before. The large tiger blinked its baby blue eyes twice. "Umm, hi. You smell like something I shouldn't eat and look like someone whose fashion sense I approve of. Like the hair stripes. Just sayin'. Umm, new resident? I'm Calley." He tried not to flash his teeth too many times during that introduction.

"Umm, err, ah, umm... Just a second! Technical non-opposable-thumb-difficulties in progress! Be with you in a second!"

"It''s ok take your time." She called out softly, trying not to attract any unwanted attention. She could understand not having any opposable-thumbs, her leeches didn't have any. Then again maybe she had only thought she heard a voice.

No, Nash had defiantly heard a voice muffled as it was by the door. That was confirmed by the weird noises coming from the other side. Well at least she wasn't going to be made to stand at the door for many hours, which on a day like today was always a plus. She rubbed her arm and pressed her fingers over a leech she knew was there. It squirmed in response to her touches and she smiled a little.

She almost jumped out of her skin when the door suddenly clicked open. 'Pay more attention!' She smacked herself mentally. She didn't move as the door slowly opened. She didn't move as the tiger who had opened it coughed and then began talking to her. Her mind was wrapping around the though that talking tiger had opened the door for her. If she could live with thousands of leeches in her body then the door could certainly be opened by a talking tiger, she told herself. Her leeches squirmed under her skin in agreement. At least she knew why there had been such difficulty.

At the mention of her hair, her hand flew to her head. "It's... natural" She'd been ridiculed for her hair almost as much as her eyes and she was a little touchy about it. It hadn't been an insult which made her happy. In fact it seemed like in one breathe she'd been complimented more then she had been in the last four years. "Ta." She felt a little more comfortable now. "For you know not t'inking I'm edible, trust me I'm not. I'm Nash, by the way." She paused to adjust her backpack again, stupid thing was getting heavy. "Ya I'm new."

((ooc: If you put this code in your signature area, you'll get a spiffy link back to your profile for easy-to-find convenience:

[url=http://theultimatexmen.proboards26.com/index.cgi?action=display&board=charactersprofile&thread=2729&page=1] Nash Bryant [Nest][/url]

)

Yarr, thar be squirming! Calley resisted the urge to take a step closer--he tried to avoid the whole "sudden movements" thing with unknown mutants whilst wearing the form of an unsettlingly large predator--but he couldn't stop his whiskers from fanning forwards. There was something under her skin. Animal, vegetable, or mineral? Staringisrude staringisrude staringis--

She seemed startled over his compliment to her hair.

"Natural, eh? Doubly awesome, then." Calley's whiskers slanted down smugly towards his cheeks as he tilted his head a little bit to the side, indicating his body. "Mine are, too," he said, with the barest hint of a rumbling purr.

> "Ta. For you know not t'inking I'm edible, trust me I'm not. I'm Nash, by the way. ...Ya I'm new."

Calley's tail tip twitched. Twitch. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nash. Did you come far?" 'Cause your accent is awesome. "Oh, err," he dodge-jumped a bit to the side, landing lightly on an ornamental carpet that slid several inches with his momentum. He gave a startled look down to his paws and a surprised purr. Note to self: try carpet skating later. With a pouncing start from the top of the stairs...

But in other news: the doorway was officially clear. "Ah, come on in. Sorry. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I'm not sure where Ms Nightowl is--she's the Assistant Headmistress who's what makes with the paperwork and shtuff--but I could definitely hook you up with edibles. I'm on the kitchen's frequent flier plan. Or we could play 'Where's Nightowl' all around campus. It's actually harder than it sounds, sometimes. Especially since I'm honestly not sure if she ever sleeps." He'd noted the backpack-shift. "We could find somewhere to put that down, too. Do you have anything else?" He listed to the side, peering curiously out the door for any more luggage. When people showed up with only one backpack... it wasn't usually a roaringly good sign about their past.

((Thanks for reminding me! ))
She could feel his stare. She would have been able to feel it even if she wasn't looking directly at him she shifted her eyes to the side and then back to him again. He had obviously seen her leeches squirm. 'Should I show him?' She debated with herself. 'I've only just met him.' That would have ended it as a no but in the back of her mind a little voice screamed to her. 'He's obviously a mutant too.'

She was pulled back to the situation at hand as he spoke to her again. She sighed, her accent always gave her away. "I'm from the UK. The city of London in England." She almost wanted to suck her words back into her mouth. Nash was always either too stiff or too laid back. She didn't know why she couldn't find a happy medium. She followed his movements with her eyes as he jumped to the side. She couldn't help but laugh when the carpet slid a little from the motion.

With the path clear she stepped into the doorway and taking another step moved completely into the large school. She looked around herself awed by it all. She had been in a lot of boarding schools but this was different. She looked back at Calley, she always looked at a person when she talked to them, it was rude not to. "Water would be nice.... I'm guessing we would 'ave to find dis Ms Nightowl eventually. Right?"

She shook her head. "dis is all I 'ave. When your parents are scheming to send you to military sc'ool 'cause no other sc'ool will accept you, you don't tend to pack a lot." She let her backpack slide down her arm so that it could hang from her elbow. She flinched as she did it. She had done it with out thinking and had run right over the leech on her arm. It squirmed at the harsh treatment and broke through her skin, moving in slow movements up her arm. She was used to this, the leeches did this a lot whenever they were abruptly disturbed, but she froze because of it's time to choose to do it. It crawled under the collar of her shirt and appeared on her bare neck. It sat there a moment as though it were a declaration of everything she was and wasn't before slipping back under her skin and sliding down her back.

"Um...." She swallowed and rubbed her neck, glancing side long at Calley. "dat and I kinda wasn't really welcome der anymore."

She seemed to stiffen up as she said where she was from, but he got a laugh with his carpet antics, so it was all good. "London, huh?" He asked, his whiskers fanning anew. "That's cool. I've never even been out of the country, myself. 'Out of the state' is the best I can claim." He gave a quick grooming lick to his right foreleg, by way of looking sheepish. "I'm just a Jersey boy. Nothin' fancy. Not even from the shore--just Newark." As spies went, he was annoyingly unworldly.

>> "Water would be nice.... I'm guessing we would 'ave to find dis Ms Nightowl eventually. Right?"

The tiger's tail twitched in assent. "Yep. She tends to turn up, though. Usually carrying large objects. Or sitting in high places. Or at a quarter past two in the morning, roaming around." Calley may or may not have developed a slight fascination for the odd African woman, with her awesome sleeping habits and idiosyncratic speeches at War Room meetings. "But yeah, kitchen." He flicked his muzzle up, and down the hall. "Kitchen's that way. Definitely drinkables in the kitchen." He had started to turn that way when she replied about her luggage. His head swung back, ears twitching between full-mast and half-mast at her reply.

>> "dis is all I 'ave. When your parents are scheming to send you to military sc'ool 'cause no other sc'ool will accept you, you don't tend to pack a lot."

"Yeah... parents," he said simply, trying to keep his tone neutral. "Parents can kinda suck. My--" Urk. He cut that one short. At the Mansion, his official story was that his parents had died in a house fire, and he'd been in an orphanage for a few years. Therefore, his father hadn't disowned him. Therefore, his father was kindling, not a jerk, and potentially looking better for it. "Umm, yeah." He lamely finished. "Kitchen."

It's about that time that something black and squishy squiggled suddenly from under her skin. The tiger's ears decided that full-mast was where they wanted to be. Its tail stopped its habitual slow swishing, and before he could quite get a grip on himself, he'd crouched a bit lower to the ground. Hunting-low. Urk, again: he wasn't in housecat form, and it wasn't very nice to eat things that clearly belonged under someone else's skin. It probably wasn't even nice to innocently play with them a little.

>> "Um.... dat and I kinda wasn't really welcome der anymore."

With all the dignity of the eighteen year old Italian boy behind the tiger, Calley straightened back up. He half-closed his eyes as he coolly licked the back of his paw, and used it to rub the fur behind his ear clean. He hadn't been trying to hunt her creepy-crawlies. Nope; not him.

"It happens," he said, continuing his Supremely Cool Act with a too-casual tone. "So, should we get that water? We can go Nightowl hunting afterwards." His tail flicked: maybe he shouldn't have sounded so eager about the hunting bit. He took a step down the hall, pausing to make sure she was following him.

"Umm, if you don't mind my asking, what was that?"

"Jersey's an ok place." She said shrugging her shoulders "I once attended a boarding sc'ool dere." She frowned a little. That had been one of the first schools she had been too. An all girls school at that. Got into a fight within a month and had made one of the girls attacking her wet herself, when her leeches defended her.

"Yep. She tends to turn up, though. Usually carrying large objects. Or sitting in high places. Or at a quarter past two in the morning, roaming around."

Nash raised an eyebrow. She could feel her English breeding coming into play and she smiled a small smile, unable to stop herself. "From dat description, I'm not sure if we should go find 'er or jus' let 'er come to us." She wondered what would be happening in the kitchen. If someone was cooking in there she could always just ask to leave. She wouldn't throw a fuss about it, no she wouldn't.

She caught the stop to his reply about parents but didn't ask. They're were a lot of things she didn't like to talk about and she knew that for some parents were one of them. When he changed the subject to the kitchen and switched it from parents she happily let him.

She stepped back when he crouched at the sight of her leech. She could see the predators stance and it startled her. She wasn't scared, she told herself, like she told herself everything else. Denial was her best friend and she was fairly good at it. At least that's what she told herself. Really though she wasn't all that scared, she knew in the event of an attack her leeches would defend her. That had been proven time and time again. She relaxed when he did, letting herself calm down, her leeches were still as calm as they had been before. Nash decided to pretend that had never happened.

When he took a step, she swung her backpack back onto her shoulder and followed with out hesitation. No way was she being left alone in this place. Not a chance. Not until she knew she was welcome at least.

"Umm, if you don't mind my asking, what was that?"

That question. That dreaded horrible question that she got asked by every other person. She hated that question with a passion she had never felt for anything that even deserved to be hated.

"Der Leeches, I was born with dem." She shuffled her feet. Her eyes flashing rapidly from place to place. "Dey live inside me. Do the stuff dat keeps me alive. Protect me when I need protectin."

>> "Der Leeches, I was born with dem. Dey live inside me. Do the stuff dat keeps me alive. Protect me when I need protectin."

Calley saw her impromptu foot samba and eye waltz, and politely turned his head back down the hallway as they walked.

"Sounds useful," he said neutrally, not quite sure what she thought of her own power. She wasn't shouting it proudly to the ceiling like some mutants, that was for sure, but she hadn't freaked out when a leech came out of her own skin as if her mutation was a hideous tumor in need of surgical removal, either. Personally, he didn't much mind it either way--as long as she wasn't an immortal with mind control and violent tendencies (really, as long as she just kept the violent tendencies on the down-low around him), then it was all good. Some mutants had really weird powers. Hers definitely ranked high on that list. Probably the highest he could think of, actually... but yeah. No problem with tigger.

They arrived at the kitchen. Naturally, this demanded some showmanship. Fortunately, the kitchen featured the glory of all indoor glories: a swinging door. The tiger squared his shoulders with his haunches and let his spine form a dignified Golden Gates sag. Lifting one heavy paw, he pushed the door open for her. "Ahem," he unnecessarily cleared his throat; "my fair lady Nash, might I present to you the Kitchen. The Kitchen, might I introduce you to your newest midnight raider, Nash." He continued to hold it, allowing her to enter first. Which hopefully she was okay with, what with the whole 'having to pass by a very large tiger to do so' angle.

"The cups are in that third cabinet up there. There's bottled water in the 'fridge, or the tap water tastes really good, too." Especially if you let it sit for a few days in a large water bowl in your room, and gain just that first delicious hint of algae flavor. "Umm, please excuse me for not pouring for you. The Technical No-Opposable-Thumbs Difficulties continue, I fear. Erhm," he continued, tail sinking to lash erratically at the floor, "please excuse me not switching back to human form, too. I've got one, but, ah, I'm kinda sorta not one of those uber-fancy-shifters who can, ah," he licked at his shoulder, "keep their clothes when they shift," he finished. Change-of-Topic-Time!

He lifted his head back up, ears perking. "Oh, do your leeches need any special food? I'm not sure we've got anything for them right now, but Ms Nightowl can set things up special for you, when you talk to her. A lot of folks have different diets around here." He sat down, his tail coming to a twitching stop as it curled around his forelegs. "I tend to eat a lot of meat, myself."

"Sounds useful,"

"Ya it is." Nash could have laughed. She had never, not once heard someone call her power useful. Disgusting, horrendous, gross, icky, oh yes a thousand times over but useful, well now that was just different. She was always worried about how people would react to her because once they found out it was always a different story. Shoes on the roof, head in the toilet, shirts being pulled over head during gym, there were to many to count. Not that she was ashamed of herself, she wasn't, she just knew.

"my fair lady Nash, might I present to you the Kitchen. The Kitchen, might I introduce you to your newest midnight raider, Nash."

It was just one new experience after another. "'ello, the Kitchen tis my pleasure to meet you." She walked through the door without any problems about who was holding it. If she could last this long and not wet herself and run away screaming then Nash wasn't about to let a thing like a tiger holding a door for her stop her.

She made her way to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. "Don't worry about it. Is nice to know you ain't always furry, four legged and clawed." She smiled and uncapped the bottle, tacking a long drink from it. She couldn't drink tap water. She never did, she had at on time. Then she had gotten an allergic reaction to it and had stopped. "I'm allergic to salt and some other stuff." She pulled out a cup from the cupboard and pored some water into it. Her most dehydrated leeches curled out of her wrist and landed in the cup with a splash. She took another drink from the bottle. "Everyt'in' else is fine dough. As long as I drink a lot of water and eat at least one t'ing a week I'll do fine." She paused to think about her leeches. "I've never done anyt'in' special for dem... dey eat wotever I eat... really like blood, so I try to give it to dem as a treat every now an den." She poured more water into the cup as the leeches in it slithered onto her hand and disappeared under her skin, only to be replaced by others.

>> "'ello, the Kitchen tis my pleasure to meet you."

Those words and the hakuna matata way she strolled past him into the kitchen were more than enough to earn an approving purr from the tiger's throat. He followed after her, sitting his large furry bum down on the tile floor next to the table before proceeding with his tail-curl-and-twitch.

>> "Don't worry about it. Is nice to know you ain't always furry, four legged and clawed."

"There somethin' wrong with me always being furry, four legged and clawed?" He asked, with mock affront that was pretty badly undermined by the slight purr that was still lingering in his chest. She seemed decent enough and non-homicidal, and she had greeted the Kitchen with the proper respect such a glorious keeper of food deserved: therefore, he was enjoying himself.

>> "I'm allergic to salt and some other stuff."

"Ooo, that might be a prob--"

splash splash splash-plop!

"--lem." He finished, firmly sitting himself back down. There were small non-speedily-moving creatures with little to no visible defensive capabilities conveniently trapped in her water glass. Nonetheless, that was not an invitation to play with them. He'd gotten half-way back to his paws at the sight, but he quite firmly glued his rear back to the floor. His ears and whiskers stayed pointed at their target, though, and his tail started rattling the table legs behind him in short whip-bursts of badly contained movement. "Ah, yeah. That might be a problem. Salt's a pretty common ingredient, isn't it? We definitely have to make sure Ms Nightowl knows about that. She can probably arrange for blood, too, once in a while. I imagine butchers and stuff probably don't want that, anyway. And--wait. Did you just say you only had to eat once a week?" The tiger's head dropped low on its shoulders with disbelieving envy, the continued slithering of her leechy friends forgotten. "I call foul!" He mourned, dramatically collapsing to the floor and rolling to one side with his paws tucked to his chest like a dead spider. "I've got to eat a couple times a day, or I pretty much start starving to death. And not just little meals, either. You're lucky," he accused.

"Ah, yeah. That might be a problem. Salt's a pretty common ingredient, isn't it? We definitely have to make sure Ms Nightowl knows about that. She can probably arrange for blood, too, once in a while. I imagine butchers and stuff probably don't want that, anyway. And--wait. Did you just say you only had to eat once a week?"

"Ya, it is. Dey say it adds taste to everyt'in'. I've never eaten it wit'out swellin' up Dough... Ever see wot salt does to a leech?" She stuck her tongue out and shook her head. Many of her small friends had died at the hands of salt. She drank the rest of the water in the bottle, eying the bottom as though it had insulted her by popping up. Looking around for a place to set the empty plastic water container, she opted for the table. She laughed at the tigers actions. "I do only got to eat once a week but I can eat more den dat. Just... I digest slowly, cause I don't have a stomach and the leeches do it all." Nash having finished the water in her bottle drank the water in her cup as well, leeches and all. When you got something living inside of you everyday, all day, it does no good to be squeamish about it. Especially when there permanent fixtures "I do 'ave to drink a lot of water." Setting the cup on the table, she grabbed another bottle out of the fridge.

She moved towards him, trying to decided whether to sit or stand. She decided to sit on the floor instead of on a seat. She felt that might be a little unfair to Calley. Plus she didn't want to have to look down to talk to him.

She sat across from the tiger. Crossing her legs and letting her arms hang loosely at her side, bottle in her lap. "So can you change into other stuff too? Or do you just stay a tiger all the time?" She felt as he had asked her about her powers that she could ask him about his. Truthfully she was a little curious about it. She wasn't going to push if she got no answer but she really did want to know.

>> "Ever see wot salt does to a leech?"

"Eek," the tiger said, its ears folding briefly down. "Only once, on YouTube. Does that seriously happen to you?" The very tip of his tail foofed out a bit--now that was gross.

>> "I do only got to eat once a week but I can eat more den dat. Just... I digest slowly, cause I don't have a stomach and the leeches do it all."

Doesn't have a stomach, huh? Calley was still digesting that little tidbit when she upended her cup, crawlies and all streaming down the hatch. Huh. Doesn't have a stomach. It was a little hard to wrap his head around. His stomach was such an important part of his life; really, he didn't know what he'd do without it. Fill up with leeches, apparently.

When she opted for the floor seat, he rolled to his stomach, and crossed his paws in front of him to face her. Dignity: +5!

>> "So can you change into other stuff too? Or do you just stay a tiger all the time?"

"Just the tiggering and the humaning, I fear." Calley intoned solemnly. Blatant lies: every spy's best friend, and made quite a bit easier when the teenager in question had never really seen a difference between lies and the truth, anyway. "Oh! And I did this half-and-half thing one time, but it was sort of under extreme conditions," he'd been getting horribly tortured by his current employer at the time, to be specific, "so I'm not sure I could do it again." Actually, he was pretty sure he could. But it had been a very ill-planned-out form: the bone structure in his feet had been all wrong to actually support weight, his hands had featured retractable claws but lost their opposable thumb, and he still wasn't sure whether he'd had the right number or types of internal organs. Chimeraing: something he'd realized it was very dangerous to half-ass, because if one of those missing internal organs was his heart, things might just get messy. On that note: "I can sorta heal, too. But just physical injuries, and just myself. And I'm not always the best at controlling it." In the back of their mind, Slate did not bother to glance up from his current meditations long enough to dignify being labeled an 'it' with a reply. As split personalities go, he was more confident in his own superiority than most.

"How about you? What can you and your friends do?" The tiger asked, whiskers doing a dance between fanning with interest and remaining at a dignified post next to his orange and black cheeks. "You don't have to really answer that, if you don't want to. It's pretty much the most common question you'll get around here, though, the first time you met people."

"Only once, on YouTube. Does that seriously happen to you?"

She nodded her head. "If it gets bad ya. Like if I get to much of it in me." She looked to the side and rubbed her thumb over her cheek. A leech followed the trail of her thumb sliding over her nose and disappearing down the other side. "When I get salt in me I react but with medical treatment I'm ok... My leeches dough... if any of dem come in contact with it... dey.. die." She looked at her foot as she spoke. She would never be able to describe how it felt to have one of her little companions die. She wasn't sure she would ever find the words or that she would ever want to. One of her leeches crawled out of her nose as if to remind her that they were still there. She squeaked startled by the unusual action and covered her nose. Realizing what she had done she smiled sheepishly.

"Just the tiggering and the humaning, I fear."

"Oh, I see so you're like a... a... Weretiger?" She wasn't sure if that was right but for lack of better word it would have to do. She cocked her head to the side as she spoke. "Dat is the word for bein' both isn't it?" She cocked her head to the other side and frowned. "If you can only become both under extreme conditions den it probably isn't all that safe right?" Again she wasn't sure but she could guess to a point.

"How about you? What can you and your friends do?"

"I don't mind you askin', or anyone for that matter, it's when dey ask and insult me dat I tend to get a little pissy." She scratched her ear and began to list of the different things she knew she could do. "Leeches saliva can knock people out or paralyze them, dere slim can be used like glue and I use it on my cuts a lot, I have thicker skin den most and I can breathe under water cause I breathe through my skin." That earned a pointed finger aimed at the ceiling "Ummm.. and-" She rolled her eyes heaven's way and frowned. "I'm scary?" She shrugged not all that sure about the last one. She took another sip from the bottle and sat it beside her.

>> "When I get salt in me I react but with medical treatment I'm ok... My leeches dough... if any of dem come in contact with it... dey.. die."

Well that settled that, then: she did seem to like her power. Or at least her swarm of friends. And her swarm of friends seemed to like her. The tiger sporfled as a leech crawled out of his fellow teen's nose. Her powers were definitely qualifying as something he didn't see everyday. And on a daily basis, Calley did tend to see a lot.

>> "Oh, I see so you're like a... a... Weretiger? ...Dat is the word for bein' both isn't it?"

The tiger's black-tipped ears perked, then dipped, and perked again. "Yeah," he decided. "Yeah, it is." He'd been calling himself a tiger shifter, not a Weretiger; but really, wasn't Miss Nash's name for it just so much better? He'd unconsciously derived tiger shifter from multi-shifter, his real power. A Weretiger, though... a Weretiger really just fit the bill, now didn't it? If a boy said 'Heya, I'm a Weretiger, nice-ta-meet-cha-what's-your-power?', no one returned with; 'Oh, a shifter? Can you do other forms?' A Weretiger was just a Weretiger was always and completely a Weretiger. Calley's tail tip gave a solid twitch of resolution: henceforth, he was a Weretiger.

A brief strand of purr lifted out from his chest. Miss Nash was proving to be exceptionally useful company.

>> "If you can only become both under extreme conditions den it probably isn't all that safe right?"

Purr ended. Calley groomed one foreleg briefly. "That's what I'm thinking, too," he said, switching his attentions to his other leg. "It definitely wasn't... umm, pleasant. The trigger, that was. And it wasn't the most useful form, either. I'd much rather stick to straight-up tiger." Or straight-up human, if he absolutely had to have those stupid thumbs. Human form wasn't like tiger form: it didn't come with its own furry security blanket wrapped snuggly around his body. He was always more jumpy in human form, and he always had that stupid habitual smile plastered to his face.

>> "I don't mind you askin', or anyone for that matter, it's when dey ask and insult me dat I tend to get a little pissy."

A brief purr-laugh rumbled through the kitchen. "I don't think you'll have to worry about insults here. Most of the younger kids are probably going to think you're the coolest thing since that girl who could summon earth worms out of the ground. Just umm, don't let them trick you into pulling pranks on everyone and their cousin." He lifted up a hind leg, and briefly arched his head around to scratch behind an ear. Aaaaah that was the spot. Leg down. "Now if you want to pull pranks, by all means. Just don't get tricked into them." The tiger's blue eyes were bright with that distinct light of complete and total innocence: he hadn't ever joined the younger kids in their constant pranks. Nope. Not li'l old tigger.

>> "Leeches saliva can knock people out or paralyze them, dere slim can be used like glue and I use it on my cuts a lot, I have thicker skin den most and I can breathe under water cause I breathe through my skin."

The tiger's head unconsciously shot upwards, following the path of her finger to the ceiling.

>> "Ummm.. and- ...I'm scary?"

The tiger's head came down again. He briefly licked at his chest, watching the leech master out of the corner of his eye. "Hmm," he began thoughtfully, "I don't know." He pushed his way back up to a seated position facing her; his large head swung up, left, down, right, center. His whiskers fanned to attention, then flicked back to 'at ease' as he appraised the girl before him. Finally, he glanced over his left shoulder with disinterest, letting out a large yawn. "Nope. You're just not trying hard enough. Where's your Scary Face? I'm not going to get nightmares unless you've got a good Scary Face. Honestly," he tilted his head the slightest bit back, blue eyes sparkling at her as his tail dusted the floor in long sweeps. "It's like you're not even trying, Miss Nash."

"It definitely wasn't... umm, pleasant. The trigger, that was. And it wasn't the most useful form, either. I'd much rather stick to straight-up tiger."

She wondered what could have been so unpleasant but decided not to ask. As curious as she was, she again reminded herself about things some people didn't like to talk about. She decided from his abruptly ended purr that his was probably one of them. So she let it drop and took a drink from her water bottle, instead of saying anything more.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about insults here. Most of the younger kids are probably going to think you're the coolest thing since that girl who could summon earth worms out of the ground. Just umm, don't let them trick you into pulling pranks on everyone and their cousin."

Nash couldn't help but be surprised at that response. "I don't think I will. I'm not really the prankin' kind." As she said it a little smile formed on her lips. "I promise not to prank you if I do dough kay? Like, I won't glue your paw to your fore'ead well your sleepin' or anythin' like dat." She said it as a joke but she really did mean it. The temptation to prank others got to her every now and then, just like it did every teen. Though she had only ever played small, harmless pranks.\

"Nope. You're just not trying hard enough. Where's your Scary Face? I'm not going to get nightmares unless you've got a good Scary Face. Honestly, It's like you're not even trying, Miss Nash."

"Dat's easy for you to say, Mr big-an-scary-tiger." She poked him on the nose with the tip of her finger just to prove how scary she thought he was. If he thought she wasn't scary then she wouldn't tell him differently. She knew there were a few reasons she could think of but those were stories better left untold. "Besides," She said crossing her arms. "To some leech phobic person I'm a livin' breathin' nightmare." she nodded her head trying to look firm.