hellhouse | (no subject)

WHO: Katherine Danvers & Open should you like to risk it
WHAT: Werewolves don't do well in cages
WHERE: The empty room, first floor
WHEN: July 2
WARNING: She's a werewolf, and this house is a trap, so.

Kate had been here over a month. She usually had to change at least once in a months period. But trapped in this cage, she had to fight it. But she was physically only able to fight so much for so long. She had felt itchy, antsy, and like she was crawling out of her skin from day one.

Wolves were not meant for cages.

She could feel her wolf under her skin, demanding to get out. For more than a week now she could see the wolf under her skin, and so Kate had been avoiding people. Her temper was short, her mood was bad, and frankly, Kate was a threat to them. But Kate was also only going to make it worse on herself. The longer she put off the change, the more brutal it was going to be.

Kate had woke up that morning and knew she wouldn't be able to hold it off any longer. She had wandered around the house and eventually found an empty room, save for some photos on the wall. She had gone inside and closed the door. If the door vanished, good. Fine. It wasn't like she could get any more caged, and at least trapping her inside would keep anyone from coming in and out.

Moving to the furthest wall from the door, she lowered herself to the floor. She could keep fighting it, and it would eventually take over. The walls would close in on her, and her mind could end up being more wolf than she could control. Or she could give in.

Her bones began to break, though Kate didn't make a sound. Instead, she pulled off her clothes, tossing them into a pile in the corner and prayed she didn't end up ripping them.

She dropped to her knees, bones breaking and reforming, hands and feet forming from hands to paws and claws, and yellow-blonde fur sprouting from her skin. It was beyond painful, but nothing she was not used to. Soon enough, it was over. Instead of a blonde woman, she was a blonde wolf, bright blue eyes surveying the room.

Despite the shift, she still felt just as trapped. Wolves did not do well in cages. Her human side would know better than to make any sound, but her wolf side had been contained for too long. Growling, she began pacing the room, the wolf desperately trying to find a way out that the human side of her had failed to do.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Likewise, until now. But I've met a man who doesn't seem to know what a cellphone is a woman who lives in space since being here, so I'm willing to believe it." She was reaching for her pants when he was pulling on his socks and shoes. "The only thing that comes to mind that I couldn't smell or hear is a ghost," she said thoughtfully as she zipped the pants closed. "But I've never been able to see those. Only necromancers can. Or those are the rules I'm used to." Demon maybe? She'd never met a demon face to face, so she couldn't be sure. Kate had never asked her mother about that.

Kate pulled on her shirt and then reached for his hand with a smile. She had no shoes or socks. "Katherine. Or Kate" she said with a firm shake.

Now that she was dressed, she turned to look more at the areas around them, listening carefully, watching, and taking the time to breathe and figure out what she was smelling. "I mean, dirt, dust, mold, wood...pretty much what I'd be expecting from a house that needs to be condemed.'

"You have me beat. Cleo was pretty normal, from what I could tell. She's Australian, but that's about the weirdest thing about her, so considering that's not that weird, you definitely win," Derek replies with a small smile. While she finishes changing, Derek leans to peek out of the hallway, more relieved than he'd like to admit to see his claw marks still on the wall leading back toward the rooms he's been sharing with Cleo, her friend, and the Hargreeves brothers.

His eyebrows lift a bit with interest. "Do you prefer Katherine or Kate?" he asks. A part of him is really hoping that it's the former rather than the latter, because he could really do without another Kate in his life any time soon, but then again, there is always the potential of sort of overwriting the bad memories with...less bad ones, he supposes, considering the circumstances of their meeting.

"Yeah, I got that, too. That was pretty much it. And the remnants of some of the other humans that have been walking around in this hallway the past couple of days," Derek agreed. "But I kept feeling like I was hearing someone whispering. Were you getting that, too?"

Kate had an annoyance with Australia that had nothing to do with most Australians, but that wasn't something she really needed to comment on. But so far there were some serious differences about a lot of people. Kate wouldn't be too surprised if this Cleo person ended up not being totally normal.

"Most people call me Kate." she said with a shrug. "Any other nicknames are subject to scrutiny and low chance of approval." Things like Katie, or Kat, or god knows whatever horrible nicknames people had tried to give her. "Danvers, my last name, is also acceptable."

There were definitely humans, or people that weren't human but didn't give off the same scent as wolves. She still had no idea who she was trapped in this house with, but chances were, out of all the kidnapped people she would easily be viewed as one of the biggest monsters. "Sort of whispering? I can usually hear whispering pretty easily, but I couldn't make out what was being said. Almost like it was muffled, or in a language I don't know."

She noted the claw marks on the wall, assuming they were Derek's, and then cautiously moved to check one of the rooms closest to them. If someone was whispering, they might as well find out who.

"Kate then," Derek agreed with a nod. "I'll just leave it simple. I don't particularly like making a point of pissing people off by misnaming them if I can avoid it," he added with a lopsided grin.

He nodded to acknowledge what she was saying and that he'd observed the same phenomenon. "Yeah, that's actually a better description. It's whispering but I can't hear it as well I as I normally could, so maybe a human couldn't even hear it at all, which I guess wouldn't technically make it whispering at all," he agreed, frowning. "Whatever it is, I can't tell what it's saying, so it's not helpful."

Nothing about this stupid house was helpful, though, he supposed.

He, too, was following the claw marks in the wall with the hopes that it would lead him back where they'd started, if nothing else, which meant he'd be able to get back to his group. Whatever, he would take what he could get. Part of him wanted to know what was making that sound, but there was another part of him that was sure it couldn't be a good thing, whatever it was, and maybe feigned ignorance could also be bliss?