Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris Phoenix Elzen wandered down the street, looking for something to eat. She had been walking for hours, and was now in a city, though she wasn't sure which one. She wandered around some more, before finding a corner store. Walking over, she turned her hand, and the door opened. Swiftly, she stepped inside, unknowing that she had set off a silent alarm. She found a Subway sandwich, and a water. Picking the food up, she turned to leave.
Tris looked back at the empty store, unsure if she wanted to leave just yet. There was enough food to feed her for weeks. After all, she wasn't stealing money, just old food. Cursing herself in Russian, she picked a few more sandwiches, some bottles of water, and a few bars of chocolate. Placing all of this in a small rucksack, she began to look around for a way to pay the person back. Spotting a broom, she swiftly swept the place, and put everything she hadn't stolen away. Standing once more, she walked towards the door. Only, someone was blocking it…
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
An old man wild and withered stood there like a stone. His long white hair tumbled down onto (of all things) a tarnished chest plate of armor. A medieval knight, right in front of Tris. Except he hadn't made it out of bed without taking off his pajama bottoms. And his legs looked flimsy and ragged. He was almost buckling under the weight of that armor.
Never mind. His body would summon strength from ages ago. And Tris could see it in those wild eyes and cheekbones that almost sliced across his face like scars. Oh, and the sword he had drawn.
"The store is closed, " he said. . . .
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris stared at him for a moment, eyebrows raised and mouth open in shock. "How the... When did.... Why.... What...." she tried, slowly taking steps backward as she attempted to come to terms with this. Failing that, she flexed her wrists. Her nails suddenly vanished, and in their place were claws, well-manicured claws. The moon glinted off their sharp edges, as Tris turned.
"I figured that," she murmured coldly, fangs sliding down to match her more feline attributes. No matter how.... medieval he looked, he was still an enemy at the moment and Tris knew, as the man across from her probably did, that she would be treating him accordingly.
"I really must ask you to stand down," she replied, speaking in a clear voice, hands at her sides. She kept her claws down, showing her readiness to fight, but she wouldn't attack someone without at least giving them a warning first. Waiting for his reply, Tris quietly tapped her foot, narrowing her eyes.
[ O.O.C: Her claws, by the way, do not look the same as a cat's claws would. They look like longer nails, with sharper edges. They can, very literally, swipe down full grown trees. For a better idea of what they look like, type in "Inuyasha claws" into the Google images search bar. :) ]
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
The old man smiled, waving away her wildness. "Come in," he said. "We don't turn away hunger that lashes out like that." Even with her claws poised to tear him down like a tree, he simply turned and floated toward a dim light in a back room. "Are you coming? The tea is getting cold." The door slowly creaked shut behind her, and a little neon light outside flickered on. "Closed." Just like that. On the shelves of the store were the usual things: green beans, chips, toothpaste, dust, and human craving. But, there was more. In that little grocery there was an exotic world. Insects from Thailand. Betel from India. . . .
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris coughed weakly, and bit her lip. She slowly retracted her claws, a bit surprised. Trembling,s he slowly followed behind the old man, casting an illusion of armored pants over his legs so as to save her and the old man some unwanted embarrassment.
Lowering her eyes nervously, she glanced around the room, drumming her fingers against her pants to help decrease the tension in her. For all she knew, he might poison her, or.... Tris' sensitive feline ears flattened against her head, hearing the whistle of an old teapot. A silent alarm to alert the police?
Tris felt her knees shaking and sweat built up on the back of her neck. She dug her nails (No longer sharpened claws) into her skin, slowly taking steps after him. "Nice shop here," she commented with a shaky smile. "I like the diversity. So.... where we headed?" she added, looking around with narrowed eyes.
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
"Here," he said pointing at the door in front of them. "The portal." What could possibly turn a flimsy fiberglass door into some passageway or portal, you wonder? Well, there was a long splinter right down its middle. No, not a splinter. Tris studied it more closely. It was a scar. Someone (or thing) had clawed it right down the middle, a gash that wouldn't heal. The old man tottered a bit and pulled up his armored pants, which fit smartly and snugly. "When I open this door," he continued, not even looking at Tris, "things will change for you." Whatever did that mean? Tris took a step back. As he grasped the knob of the door and turned it slowly, apprehensively, the gash disappeared. In its place flashed dark glyphs in an ancient script. And Tris gasped. She recognized something immediately.
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris stepped back slowly. "N-Not...... H-How..." She murmured shocked. The first circle of hieroglyphics was a spell she knew all too well. As it was flung in her direction, she bit her lip and stepped back. "Of all the cruelest, dirtiest tricks to pull. Cops would have been kinder," she hissed, flinching as the ancient glyphs circled around her.
"How dare you.... This is a spell worthy of murder, not a kid just trying to get something to eat," Tris hissed, as ropes tied her to the floor. She bit her lip as she was tossed forward into a cage and branded with his name on her arm. "Oh, nice. I'm your slave, not the Devil's. Did you want my thanks?" she thought, as the magic finished binding her to his will. Glaring at him, she stared straight ahead, claws slipping down. "What do you wish, Master?"
Tris hung her head in defeat as she felt the last threads of the spell binding her and the final sigils falling into place. With a tired exhale, Tris stared at the man, the light gone from her eyes and her form sagging in defeat. "Why bind me, mortal? What purpose do you really have for me? If you wish to kill me, what will you get out of it. A small portion of your store's goods have been damaged and for that I am deeply sorry. I would not touch another person's things unless in dire need. If you but release me, I will pay you back what I have stolen and more," Tris pleaded, terror filling her form.
This girl was used to freedom and it's sudden, sharp closure hurt her more than he could imagine. "Please..... I won't touch anyone's shops ever again..." she whispered, the fever rushing back as her adrenaline faded. Weeks of hunger and sickness washed over her and she collapsed at his feet, bound by the spell he'd cast and nearly unconscious. "Please..." The word died away like a leaf blown into the autumn mists.
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
Gregorivich's eyes opened slowly. "Now, I did not expect that. You're not a child, are you? Something else, something else entirely." Tris looked up meekly at him, and he stared back. The cage looked more like a cavern, rounded at the top, the base wide with alcoves at its sides that cast slicing shadows. He reached into his pocket, and felt something cold. A key. Yes, the key with a forbidding scar right down its belly. The one that's supposed to fit inside that lock. Or was it? Anyone who summoned that spell was capable of things. Gregorivich looked again at Tris. Her eyes were vacant and lost. He inserted the key into the lock, opened the groaning door, and waited. Tris did not move.
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Minutes passed slowly, the seconds ticking away into time's vortex. About five minutes later, Tris slowly groaned and pulled herself to her feet. She blinked, noting the open cage door in confusion. Her eyes slowly rested on the key in the stranger's hand and her eyes widened in recognition.
She slowly stepped outside of the confines of the cage, trembling slightly. "Th-th-thank you," she murmured, staring at him in awe. She slowly cast her senses towards the ominous door, flinching slightly at the wide range of spells set up within it, most likely for the stranger's defense. Quietly, she backed away and set down her bag. "Your things back. There all she undamaged," she whispered, carefully setting it at his feet.
The girl took a few steps back and waited for whatever was to come next. Maybe it would be permission to leave, or perhaps a hot meal, if she was lucky. Trembling softly, Tris cautiously knelt before him, terrified.
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
"Come on. Let's see what's behind this door, huh. Can't be any scarier than that spell, could it?" Gregorivich reached into his frayed jacket and pried out some old chimes. Meditation chimes. Two miniature cymbals with old Chinese script carved deep into them. Between them an oiled leather cord. You could tell Tris didn't like the look of them. Her eyes swelled, and her cheeks pinched into a wince. Gregorivich held up his hand to settle her down. He needed silence. And out of those little metal discs there came a sound so true. The door opened slowly, and in front of them was a table set for dinner. A feast of platters overflowing with fruits, cheeses, and everything you dreamed about. But there was a stillness in that room, too. It was the dining room of an old medieval castle. Swords, tapestries of knight errants, And the wind seemed to seep through the heavy stone walls.
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris yawned, rubbing her eyes quietly. At Gregorivich's words, her head shot up in alarm. He held up a hand, as if to tell her to be silent. Tris complied, gently curling up on the floor. She flattened her ears and curled her tail around herself, shaking slightly. She blinked as the door changed into a portal to a dining room. Tris blinked, looking over at Gregorivich quietly.
Rubbing her eyes, Tris tried to stand and walk over to the elderly knight, but she collapsed weakly. Coughing up blood, the girl's eyes closed and she slipped into a feverish haze. Her feline ears were pressed against her head in a cat-like gesture of pain and fear while her tail twitched uneasily.
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
Gregorivich didn't hesitate. He scooped her up, strode through the threshold, and set her down in a warm, velvet-cushioned chair at the end of the table. Her tail perked up and started to thump against the high-backed chair. Out of the centerpiece with its spray of grapes, he plucked out a little bell, and with a twitch, he rang it. Promptly, without any servant in sight, there appeared a tureen in front of her. Steaming soup garnished with a sprig of something yellow. Not appetizing? Well, just hold on. Tris had known this herb in her world. She didn't have to see it, in fact. The fragrance reached her, and her eyes flicked open like a switch.
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris blinked, inhaling the scent slowly. She smiled at Gregorivich, as if asking permission. Once he'd nodded, she carefully picked up the spoon and began to eat. She loved chicken soup when she was sick, especially garnished with abergae leaves. Smiling softly, she finished the bowl of soup then lay back, exhausted. She slowly pushed the bowl a foot away, and waved her hand over the table. The air hummed for a second and then a perfectly cut and polished pile of jewels and golden coins lay there, along with a small ivory card on with the words "Thank you" were written in black Gothic writing. Alongside were two deep red roses.
Rubbing her eyes, Tris shifted into a kitten, curling up on the chair and purring softly. She was still sick, but Gregorivich had certainly made a good start. Soon enough, he could have a healthy young Neko on his hands, if he wished it. Coughing softly, Tris stirred then lay still.
Gregorivich: (Courtesy of Greg.)
Through the heavy carved door, Gregorivich heard his front grocery window rattle. A brazen wind perhaps. And it rattled again. But not like the wind, he soon realized. Someone was knocking forcefully on the window. He gazed at Tris, who wasn't Tris anymore, was she? Well, even in her feline features, he could make her out, though. The thin, fine nose, the arching cheek bones. But, what was she?
And the window began to rattle again. He could see a stout lady in a gray bob peering in. Sneering really. With a few strides he was at the door, opening it. "Yes?" he asked.
Gloria: (Courtesy of Greg.)
"Mr. Gregorivich, a young girl was spotted entering your store two hours and 15 minutes ago. I want her back. My name is Gloria, Human Services Outreach Coordinator. She belongs in foster care."
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris' head shot up in alarm as she heard the woman's voice and she immediately stopped purring. Shaking slightly, she jumped to the floor, her skinny little kitten body landing gracefully. She shyly bounded across the room and over to Gregorivich, looking up and mewing. She had managed to shift her bones a little so that it would take longer to recognize her resemblance to her human form.
Shaking slightly, she blinked up at the social worker, allowing herself a short sniff. Her ears flattened instinctively and she bounded up onto Gregorivich's shoulder and hissed at the woman, her feline signal to get out. She hadn't claimed Gregorivich's home as her's as well, but she wasn't letting this particular woman in, no matter what it cost her. Unless, Tris decided, Gregorivich wanted her inside. Tris growled softly, then let out another sharp snarl.
Gregorivich and Gloria: (Courtesy of Greg.)
"Excuse me," Gregorivich began, "She's my guard dog. And not so friendly."
"As long as she keeps those claws off me, I don't mind. So--where's the girl?"
"There is no girl," G. pointed to his darkened, desolate store.
"May I?" Gloria waved her hand over the store like she was flicking away a bug.
"Please."
Gloria headed down an aisle with an official air, and a can of beans lunged off the shelf right in front of her and clattered onto the floor. "What was that, Mr. Gregorivich?"
"Inertia. Must've been waiting to fall all day."
"Would you turn on the lights, Mr. Gregorivich."
"Of course." Gregorivich winked at Tris, and together they drifted over to the switch right under the neon Coca Cola sign. Without even a flicker of thought, Tris extended a paw and flipped on the switch.
"That is a very talented cat, Mr. Gregorivich." Somehow Gloria now stood in a flood of light just behind them. She was nodding her head. And smiling stupidly. "How long have you had that extraordinary cat?" . . .
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris blinked slightly up at Gregorivich and did the cat-version of a smile, as if in acknowledgement of his comment.
The little cat sniffed distastefully at Gloria's next comment, then noncommittally began cleaning her front paws.
The cat continued to ignore the two of them, grooming in silence as Gregorivich indicated the darkened store.
At Gloria's disgusted gesture, Tris looked up and glared, eyes glowing a faint amber.
She settled down though as soon as Gregorivich indicated it was all right.
The little cat hissed angrily as the can clattered to a stop by her front paw. She slowly bent forward, back arched and tail erect,
then sniffed the can distrustfully. "Meow...." she commented, blinking up at Gregorivich as if he would reply.
The little cat continued to stare up at Gregorivich, oblivious to or simply ignoring the social worker's requests. With cats, it can be hard to tell the difference.
Tris silently gave the cat version of a smile to Gregorivich, and casually walked alongside him to the light switch, turning it on with a brush of her paw. She ignored Gloria, rolling her eyes disdainfully, as she gently rubbed against Gregorivich's hand and purred softly.
Gregorivich and Gloria: (Courtesy of Greg.)
Gloria put her hands on Tris. She patted and stroked. And Tris looked stiff like wire. "Miss Gloria," Gregorivich said, "she doesn't like too much attention." "Nonsense," Gloria answered tartly, "all things like attention." All by themselves, no stove required, Tris' eyes brimmed and boiled. But, Gloria was determined to assert her affection. It may have come out like kerosene, but it was affection, wasn't it? She was a roaming mother bear in our city's social services system, after all. "All right, dear. I've got to go. Lots of cases to sift and file. It's not easy finding what's been thrown away. You know." "Of course, Gloria. I know very well what you mean." She swung the door open fiercely and was gone. Just the faint reverberations of that metal door against its weakened hinges remained. Jarring, it was.
They turned away from the front window, and walked slowly toward the back. Liberated by Miss Gloria's exit, Tris the cat decided to burrow into one of the shelves, and out snorted Tris the Neko with a liberating giggle. "How about that!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Yes, how about that." But, it wasn't Gregorivich's voice. Not even close.
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris' ears flattened, as her body slowly stiffened and she cautiously looked up. Her eyes flaming angrily, Tris bared her teeth and hissed. Gloria didn't seem to notice. She continued to pet and scratch, oblivious to Tris' discomfort. Tris ears seemed to flatten even more at her voice. Gloria waved goodbye to Gregorivich, one hand still violating Tris' fur. Angrily, Tris turned to bite her finger, just as a warning. Luckily for Gloria, she'd already started toward the door. Bites from Tris weren't really known for their gentleness, including warning bites. Fur raised like spikes and teeth bared, Tris snarled angrily at her.
Her fur slowly flattened and Tris relaxed just a touch as the door shut, and let out a soft, shaken mew. The cat stretched slightly, loosening her muscles a bit, before jumping down from the counter.
Trembling, Tris silently walked towards the back of the store, slipping into the shelves and changing. She let herself giggle, trying to release some of the tension from Gloria. "How about that...." she chuckled, looking up at Gregorivich, already half-smiling again. Only, that wasn't Gregorivich.
"Yes, how about that," the sinister voice filled the room. Gloria. She'd tricked them.
Shaking, Tris shifted into a full human form, stepping back further into a corner. Her claws slowly slipped down. "St-stay back. I'm not coming with you. N-not this time.... N-Not ever," Tris growled shakily. Her fangs slipped down, and she hissed, just in case her words hadn't been enough.
Gloria's lips lifted coldly. "Naughty, naughty...." she cooed, taking a rather long needle out of her purse.
Frightened, Tris shifted into a smaller form, a Bengal kitten.
Again, Gloria didn't seem to notice her fear, simply reaching out and stabbing the needle into the kitten's paw, watching as it shifted to natural form and slipped to the floor, unconscious at her feet. Ironically, Tris' ears were still flat, even though both fangs and claws had disappeared. A single tear slipped down her cheek as Gloria scratched her ears gently. "Aw... how cute," she muttered.
Gregorivich and Gloria: (Courtesy of Greg.)
"You won't get out the door with her," Gregorivich said flatly.
"Oh, no?" Gloria's eyebrows arched in disdain.
Without even a flutter of concern in his face, Gregorivich strode over to the door, reached into his pocket, and pulled out what looked like an ancient skeleton key. "From the Franciscan monks. A relic that guarded their most sacred texts."
"You're going to subdue me with a flimsy key?
Neatly and unceremoniously, he inserted it into the front door lock, and the walls shook. From the top of the store, metal bars 6 inches apart came down grimly from the ceiling and locked into steel hooks on the cold ground.
Gloria blinked.
"May I have the girl back?"
"No, she belongs to the state. All orphans do."
"Well, then. Remember that I asked nicely. Meet my alter ego--Flame." Gregorivich snapped his fingers, and at the top of one of his crooked, arthritic digits appeared a single flame that burned blue. Withering heat like out of a welding gun. And he smiled. . .
Tris: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Tris watched, curled against the cement in terror. She didn't go near Gregorivich in his current state, didn't dash towards the door, and didn't cower behind Gloria either. The girl dry retched, still tired and sick. She couldn't handle much more of this. Gasping for breath, she slowly crawled over to Gregorivich, bleeding internally again. Tris collapsed to the floor at the exact same shelf she'd been caught stealing from. Whimpering like a defenseless kitten, she curled into a tight ball and lay fast asleep. Blood dampened her clothing, seeping steadily out of her mouth. She dry retched again, having trouble breathing. Eyes closing and coughing weakly, she slipped unconscious.
The young girl barely registered the heat building in the room as she slipped away on the dark river of her dreams. Only, it had changed.... to blood. Tris gasped, trying to wake only to find herself drowning in the warm red liquid. She cried, screamed, tried to swim, and every attempt made failed drastically. As the world began to darken, she managed to pull from the dream into a new one. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The clock rang out every note, making her cringe and wince every second that passed. Tris finally felt blackness cover her and she smiled, letting it carry her away, wherever it might lead.
Gloria: (Courtesy of Tris Elzen.)
Gloria's eyes widened sharply. "How dare you threaten me!" she cried, raising a small, leopard-print gun from her purse and aiming it at Flame. "Back off! You can't have the orphan. She belongs to the state," The woman repeated. Carefully stepping forward, Gloria bent down by Tris and checked her pulse, her gun still raised. Gasping, she stood, eyes wide with shock. "Sh-she's not br-breathing...... Sh-she might be d-dead...."
Still trembling, she backed away, terrified. "Okay. I'll see if you can adopt her. Just help her. Help her, please." She didn't want to lose her job and this was fast turning into a crazy coaster ride.