((ooc: Continued from Raining Kitty Cats and Puppy Dogs.))

It was late. Well after church closing time, really. But Sebastian's apartment was still three blocks away, and Calley thought he saw a light on in back. It might just be someone leaving the kitchen light on again, or it might be that a unicorn was actually at home.

"Don't turn back," he repeated to the puppy: it had become something of a mantra on the long walk over. "We're almost there, so just... don't turn back yet."

That bleeding from earlier: he'd rather not have a repeat of that until they had a doctor in the room. Especially since he'd never shifted a person twice in one day and... well, wasn't entirely sure if he could. Or should. Did it put stress on a person's body, shifting when it wasn't really their power? The kind of stress a bleedy guy should avoid?

He let himself in. The key was up on the roof, inside a vent: a little birdie conveniently brought it down to him. What? It wasn't like he usually had pockets: keys were best left where he was likely to need them.

Inside, the church foyer was empty, and dark. Calley navigated his way past the youth rooms and the gym—read: the sparring hall—and hung a left at the soup kitchen. The express coffee machine loomed boxy and foreboding on the dark countertop.

Down the hallway was the light he'd seen.

It was... a computer glow. That wasn't right. Sebastian didn't do computers unless someone several millennias younger was around to coach him. Something wasn't right here. He gently set the puppy down on the polished hardwood floors, whispering a quiet "Stay" into its ear.

The shifter traversed those last few feet of floor in silent starts and stops. He hugged the wall; edged past the bulletin board; peered around the doorframe.

Long white hair shifted colors with the light from the screen.

It was Sebastian. He was... watching cat videos. On ViewTube.

"What."

It had been a long night. Calley's brain deserved some down time.

It had started innocently enough. He had been trying to find out if there were other interesting mutants that were becoming the same kind of internet sensation, or “meme” as it seemed to be called, that Agnes had become.

He knew how to go to ViewTube now, so he had started there. Each video conveniently linked to another one like it. The video of the amazing insect girl had led to another showing a snake man getting on a city bus. That had led to a boy that could tame birds with a whistle. That had led to a parrot that could sing a somewhat morbid song, for a parrot. That led to baby ducklings that couldn't quite maintain their balance in the face of tremendous amounts of wind. Sebastian felt terrible for laughing at that one, he really did.

One thing led to another and somehow he had ended up in an endless stream of cute cat videos. He was just going to watch the one more, and then he was going to go home. Really, he was.

The ninja cat was impressive. He had very reflexes and self control, something that humans could learn from. Sebastian even jumped at the end when the cat was suddenly right th...

>>“What.”

Ohmygodsrightbehindhim! Sebastian leaped to his feet, spun around and drew both his swords in one fluid motion.

“Oh. It's just you, Malako.” He had thought it was... he wasn't even sure who he thought it was. Discretely he took a step sideways to block images of the kittens on the screen. “I was just getting ready to go home,” or so he had been telling himself for the last fifteen minutes. Or maybe thirty. “What brings you here at such a late hour?”

The swords. He could probably put them away now.

Something was sniffing its way into the room behind the younger immortal.

“Is that a... puppy?” Puppies were not as cute as kitties.

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!

Both swords. Both. Really, Boss Man? Malako made sure his expression conveyed just what kind of evening he'd been having, and just how appreciated both of those swords in his face were. It wasn't an unflinching look: it was a look that said, quite clearly: what, you wanted a flinch? I'll give you a rain check.

"That," he answered the man's question, "is a guy I stabbed. The puppy part came later." He hadn't really sat Sebastian down to explain how his power worked, but the man was a smart god. He'd figure this part out.

"I need you to heal him so he doesn't die." Any healing on top of that was as optional as flinching. "Andrew, you can... stop sniffing that, now. And... change back. Any time."

Yeah. About the changing back thing: Calley didn't know how that worked, per se. This was only the fourth or fifth person he'd ever really done this to, and he hadn't stuck around to ask most of them how they'd... well, stopped being quadrupeds.

So yeah. ...Any time, now.

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.

Hmmm what were this roundish grey and black things back here? The human part of Drew knew them as the computer's cords and that it would be best to leave them alone. However Drew was allowing the puppy free rein at the moment so he could enjoy being himself as best he could. Oh yes he'd discovered the freedom from his promises that being a dog brought and he was loving every second of it. He didn't get that as often as you might think with an adapted in the house. This was as close to a vacation as Drew had had in a good while.

Which was really warped if you thought about it...

Drew gave a mental shrug. Strange life, strange circumstances. Getting gut stabbed to become a puppy and get free of his promises was worth it. Sure it was painful but Drew didn't mind pain so much anymore. So there were cords of a sort and sniffing them wasn't nearly enough for the puppy. He chewed on them for a good minute before deciding that the cords were boring and moved on. Out from under the desk he came. The white haired guy needed sniffing!

Sniff sniff. Huh, he smells strange.

Ooo coat! Sniiiiff. Chomp! Fun coat! Maybe if he chomped and pulled and tugged white haired man would play? Drew wanted to play now.

Grrr, chomp chomp. Tuuug.

"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."

“Dog! No!”

Sebastian stuck his foot under the desk to encourage the puppy to come out again. All he got in response to that was a little grey ball of fur clinging to the bottom of his jacket.

“Stop.” This was getting ridiculous. He tugged back on his coat, which only induced more growling.

This was a human being? He certainly wasn't acting like one.

“Malako, he's getting drool on my coat.” The dry cleaning bill was only getting steeper. Since he was distracted, he completely missed the deadpan stare.

Ugh. He bent to pick up the puppy, who was wriggling and resisting just by the very simple fact of being a puppy. If he was successful, he'd be holding the wriggling ball of fur out at arms length.

“How does one change a puppy back into a man?” As Malako said, any time now would be wonderful.

He'd met a dog once whose name was Cerberus. A couple of millenia had not made him any more of a dog person.

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.

...Already back to being a smartass. Seriously, who dangled from an immortal's hands, naked, being a smartass?

Malako crossed his arms loosely and leaned against the door frame, staring at the pictures on the unicorn's walls. The healing had already started: that's how Sebastian's power worked. He couldn't not make people better.

As religions went, that really didn't make for a bad god. Still: some guys deserved a taste of divine punishment. Especially green-haired idiots clad only in tattoos. The guy had them all up his left arm: black bands that stood out starkly on pale white flesh. Blood loss really hadn't improved his complexion.

And wrapped around his neck—around both their necks—a lovely set of he-and-he matching ouroboros tattoos.

"You could always drop him, and we could watch cat videos instead," Malako sympathetically suggested.

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.

Short Stuff apparently didn't feel like telling the white haired man what had happened. Drew on the other hand suffered from no such compulsions. In fact, for the moment, he suffered no compulsions at all. The stint as a dog had done more than just give him brief freedom. It had also reset his promises in a manner of speaking. It was as though he had just made each of them. Drew was incredibly grateful for that and for the healing that was swiftly seen to in moments without any apparent effort on the part of the white haired man. So when the white haired man demanded answers Drew decided to oblige. He owed the man that much.

"It was my fault. Short St...er...he was just minding his own business and I picked a fight. My mutation came into play and he didn't react well to it."

Drew shrugged his left arm.

"I keep promises and make other people keep their promises to me. I can't release them though and that didn't sit well with him."

There was that small lie again. Not that he was about to tell the whole truth even if there was a healer around to fix them both up. So he was definitely not mentioning Martin and what had led him to picking that fight in the first place. Nor was he going to reveal that he could release a person from a promise they made. Drew valued his neck and the rest of his body too much for that. Especially since the healer had swords too and Drew would just bet that he knew how to use them better than Short Stuff did. It wasn't something he really wanted to test. He turned to Short Stuff.

"Sorry about that, by the way."

Make nice with the people that have bladed weapons. Especially since you are naked and have very little way of defending yourself if they take offense to you existence.

'..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.

The boy was a walking river Styx. He shrugged about it, and maybe he didn't realize how strong that type of power could be. Strong and potentially very dangerous. Then again, maybe he was perfectly well aware and was just downplaying things.

“What happens if you or someone else attempts to break the promise?”

He sounded politely curious, but on the inside he was doing several quick calculations on what series of events could lead this boy to join their cause. Good, honest belief in the cause? Coercion? They simply didn't know enough about the boy to know what would best motivate him. Clearly this needed to be remedied. For now, they would go with being friendly, they could always change tactics at a later date.

“Malako, be nice. What was it you promised him anyway?” Depending on what it had been, especially knowing how long that promise potentially needed to be kept... Sebastian could see why he might have lost his temper and sheathed his blade in the green haired boy's stomach.

“Make sure you clean that properly. Nothing rusts a blade quicker than blood,” the sword instructor in him couldn't help but add.

“Yes excellent idea, we wouldn't want you to catch a cold. The clothing drive donation bins are this way.” Down the hall, toward the kitchens, the unicorn man led them, turning on lights as they went.

Drew sighed. He would have to do more explaining of his power. It wasn't something he was very comfortable with. Explaining his power or even mentioning it tended to get him in rough spots. But Short Stuff, now known as Malako, deserved to know considering how badly he'd reacted to it.

"I'm sorry, really I am, but there is no getting rid of it. An adapted field will suppress the promise and it's effects but the moment you leave it will be back. And while an ink manipulator can move the ink around it can't be gotten rid of. If I'd had one less promise it wouldn't have gone around your neck. I'm sorry."

And he really was sorry for it, though perhaps not for entirely altruistic reasons. Having experienced a sword through the gut was something Drew would liked to have avoided if possible. He then turned his attention to the white haired man's questions. Well question. Drew was capable of answering both but one was addressed to Short Stuff so he wouldn't answer it unless Short Stuff failed to answer and the white haired man asked him.

"It depends on the promise but it runs the gamut from pain to injury to death. I've got no experience with the last one, obviously. However, since the punishments escalate based on the promise and how long it's been held it seems entirely possible that someone could die from not keeping a promise to, say, kill someone else."

Drew seized on his somewhat ruined coat and followed the two men toward clothes. What would Lillian say about him walking through a church naked? Drew smirked to think of it as they proceeded.