Chococat wasted

Motel Glenn Capri 
6 October 2018
@"Frank Beringer"

Sol had arrived at the motel hours before nine o'clock, clad in a giant pull-over hoodie, leggings, and cheap Ugg (but not Ugg) boots. First, she had to hike a good ways into the woods behind the motel to dump a pile of raw meat (much to Teapot's chagrin).

"You can have it later," she had muttered.

Then she spent a good half hour silently freaking out over talking to an animal that only existed inside her head (except for whenever she Hulked out). Afterward, she smuggled a storage box of alcohol into the room, heaving it on top of a small counter. She went back to her truck to get four family-sized bags of chips and a loaf of bread (because she knew they would eat through the four bags of chips and the bread was just there). One of the windows facing the woods was left open, bringing the crisp autumn air inside. She pulled out whiskey and scotch from the box. The rest of the alcohol was left inside to be revealed later.

She went ahead to pour herself a shot of scotch and swallowed it down before jumping onto the bed and messing around on her phone until Franklin came.

The sound of rain began to fill the room from the open window.

She cursed at herself for not bringing a damn speaker for music. Damnit, Sol.


Before the afternoon had hit, Frank had busied himself making snacks with apples and chocolate. Even though Sol said not to, he'd be damned if he showed up empty handed. After his lunch with Abraham, he'd done some chores and errands. Eventually, 8:30pm had rolled around and so he'd made the drive to said motel, still feeling really weird about them meeting here. Honestly, when she'd mentioned just finding somewhere, he'd thought a campsite or something. That all made sense. A motel though of all things seemed not that sound. What would happen if a jaguar just bust through the walls or into someone's room? Or what if one of them changed and it was that one scene in Jurassic Park when the raptor is on top of the roof? There was too much that could go wrong, not to mention there were implications to a motel besides danger. But, he was giving Sol the benefit of the doubt here, willing to give this a try and not wanting to upset her further just because he had a critique about the place she'd picked out further than he already had. His cat whom already had a day hanging around another, was super aware of everything which definitely wasn't appreciative right now, feeding into some low anxiety.

Driving through the rain, he eventually made it to the said motel. It was secluded enough woods wise, but still. Grabbing the snacks and making his way to the room after taking a moment to figure out how the layout worked here, Frank came upon the door and knocked.

Most of her time was spent playing games on her phone. When she got bored with one she’d find another.

The knock on the door had her jumping up from the bed and striding across the room. She swung the door open.

"’Ello," she greeted as she stepped back to let him in. The smell of apples entered her nose. "I told you not to bring anything," she huffed lightly, but couldn’t really care that much about it. One, it was already made; two, she thought she smelt chocolate, too.

"Can you smell the meat in the woods?" she asked after closing and locking the door. The rain would make the smell stronger, but that was likely because of the scent trail that had been made from her carrying it out there.

At the approaching jaguar his own was positively ecstatic, as the door opened and revealed Sol and the room of this... charming place. This was a great reminder to never stay here willingly over night. A Motel 6 would probably be better and that smell of blood that wafted towards him wasn't really the best, especially as he stepped in and it got stronger.

So while his own jaguar was rooing up a storm, he sighed dramatically at her telling him not to bring anything. "Too late," he said before placing the container where he saw various other food stuffs collected.

The sound of pattering round from outside mixed with that of the rattling ac had him looking up. Frank noticed the opened window about the same time Sol spoke up about the blood and it clicked. He turned his gaze towards her with an upraised brow. "Oh thank god, I was thinking it might've been a poor shampoo job on the carpet after a murder scene." A tease, but he made his way over to the window to peer out. He wasn't able to make anything out other than lumbering shapes of dark woods, but for all the horrible aesthetics of the motel itself, at least the land it was near made up for it. "So you just... what? Threw a whole cow out there?" An amused grin was shot back at her.

She snorted at the joke, even though it was kind of dumb and completely possible. If there had been blood in the room then it wouldn’t have been Sol to open the door for him.

"Pretty much," she said. Okay, maybe more like a quarter or an eighth of a cow but she only had so much money and wasn’t about to spend a whole paycheck on a Saturday night.

Ideally, they wouldn’t shift and would just end up plastered, if their metabolism couldn’t handle it. Although, the cat was eager to go hunting for that easy prey.

"So, we start out with some whiskey and scotch shots," she said, "you know, to get warmed up. Then, I got some of the hardest fucking alcohol I could find to give us a good kick if we need it."

She patted the top of the closed storage box.

Maybe it would end up looking like a murder scene in there....

So it was confirmed that Sol had gotten a lot of cow meat which was super freaking crazy in a way. If someone just walked out there right now and ran into a big pile of meat that assuredly said something was in the woods and to get out of town right now because you were going to join the rankings of dead meat. Definitely thriller movie material. It just made it really plain that they were monsters and he was going to just skip past that road of thinking for a moment.

As Sol switched the subject to drinking, his eyebrows made the necessary journey further up, especially at that last part. Okay, so she definitely meant to get absolutely wasted and wasn't messing around. There was no telling how their tolerance had been effected yet, but he was pretty sure there was still a limit and they were probably going to reach it. His eyes flicked to the storage box she was tapping back to Sol. "Well, then what're we waiting for? Let's see how much a cat can drink."

"Yea!" she grinned. "You like whiskey, right?" She was pretty certain he did, she was already pouring some into a shot glass for him.

She poured herself some more scotch.

Suddenly she felt inclined to tell him that they didn’t have to try the harder drinks and just drink and chat and then leave the meat for some other wild animal. But then she shrugged the thought away, thinking he would somehow know that already. He was a doctor, they were supposed to be responsible people. Unless he was like a Scrubs doctor then... maybe not.

Frank nodded his head and walked back over from the window. "Yeah, thanks." He was already setting some boundaries in his mind here. Yeah, they'd drink, but he really didn't want to get to the point that control on the cat was lost. That kind of black out wasn't on his to-do list ever, including now. Still, he was curious and was down for a few.

Once Sol began working on pouring her own, he picked up his and waited before holding it up. "Cheers, then." And when she'd do likewise, he'd down the shot, the whisky burning his throat a bit.

Sol might have been fine with leaving the meat, but the cat wasn’t (or still wasn’t). It huffed and grumbled impatiently in her head, but she ignored it. She didn’t think that something so small could bother the cat, but had forgotten that it could.

She smiled as she lifted her glass with Frank before tilting her head back to drink the whole shot. After placing her drink down she would refill the glasses.

And he lightly put the glass back before sitting down on a chair nearby. Frank looked at the assorted snack foods and then at Sol who was refilling glasses to which he was going to wait a hot second before drinking another.

"So, this has been a question on my mind since earlier this week." He considered his hands and then her as he spoke up again. "Why'd you text Asha instead of me if you had a problem with something I said?" Certainly, he'd done nothing to cause himself to be unapproachable to her from his recollection. And while, in the middle of the text conversation he'd been a bit upset with the childish act of basically running to mom, now he was just a tad worried she might actually have a problem with talking to him.

She wasn’t sure if it was the cat that finally snapped over the meat smell or if it was Sol who snapped at the dumb question — or both. Either way, it led to glowing white eyes staring at the shot glasses.

First, she thought she had been stupid for feeling insecure about something and mentioning it to her friend. Then she thought Asha had been stupid for bringing Frank into something that had been private, which then led to her thinking Frank was stupid over his poor word choice. Now he was being stupid again because she had moved on and the cat was not helping at all.

"Uh —" She wanted to pat herself on the back for at least trying to say something when she knew that the cat was done sitting in the backseat.

The bottle of scotch fell to the ground, shattering into fine pieces of glass, as she began to get herself across the room, struggling. Maybe Frank would be a lamb and chuck her out the window.

Okay, so something was definitely wrong as soon as he caught those eyes turning white. Had it been such a big deal, he probably wouldn't have brought it up just now, but he had and here they were. There was a moment that an answer could've happened, but it didn't. Frank was about to reach towards her when she dropped the bottle in her grasp. The sudden shattering of the glass had his own eyes flashing in surprise, the cat wanting to jump up and away. It was enough to cause him to quickly lift his legs from the floor to avoid the glass as it skittered over.

"Sol?" Concern had him getting to his feet, walking up to Sol carefully as she seemed to be struggling, knowing that look all too well. His own cat was stirring incredibly at this display, but he did his best to push it back for now. They didn't need both of them shifting in the small space with glass all over the floor. Thinking back at how the other were had tried to talk him out of it, Frank considered trying something similar here, but wasn't entirely sure how much that'd help. It was worth a shot though.

Frank made to grasp her arms with a sure grip if she'd let him so as to still her a couple feet from the window. "Hey there, Sol. Focus and look at my face." If he could just get her talking.

She felt hands and grab her and for a good minute she thought Frank was some kind of mind reader. Sol even prepared herself for the launch out the window, but nothing happened.

She looked at his face; but, for some reason, all her white eyes saw was competition.

"Get — get —" A bone cracking interrupted her. She winced as she lifted from her left leg from the ground, favouring it.

Sol craned her neck toward the window and started struggling against him and the pain to get out and then black out. Her spine was beginning to elongate.

White eyes met his unnatural blue ones and yep, nope, that wasn't helping based on her response. His own cat was rumbling in disapproval at a met cat gaze. He wasn't originally going to let go, wanting to try to offer what support he could with touch, but the sound of a bone cracking had him wincing as it echoed entirely too loud for comfort. "Shit," Frank breathed out, dropping Sol's arms as his own jaguar tried to surge forward and he scrambled to push it away.

So, instead, he opted to keep a hand on a shoulder to steer her now hobbling form towards where she was wanting to go — the window. "C'mon, you can make it outside. Let me help." He'd then try to help lift her out of the window.

The window was looking really good. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fight it much longer: reduced to a helpless sack of human bones morphing into jaguar bones. The urge to suddenly say “I swear I’m not a lightweight,” or “It’s not because of the dumbass question,” crossed her mind, but that wasn’t really possible when she felt a gagging sensation as her throat changed.

She managed to get herself out of the window and landed gracefully. On her back. In mud. Rain splattered her face as she rolled herself over and tried to push herself further away from the motel. It was a fruitless endeavour as she finally passed out.

The muscles in her legs began to stretch through the leggings while the rest of her body shifted beneath the large hoodie.

Tag @"Asha Rao" or @"Abraham Barlet"

Sol made it out of the window andddd plopped onto the ground in a rather dramatic way as the rain pelted down on her. He would've made a comment about it if she wasn't about to turn into a giant jungle cat in a few minutes and was cleary in pain. So he watched for a beat, feeling tinges of guilt welling up below the insistent pull of his own cat. Ultimately, Frank was really worried he might've triggered this somehow considering how it had paired up with the question from before. "Hey, uh, I'll be right there," he called to her, not necessarily knowing what he could do, but he'd try.

Not about to leave her out there by herself, Frank hurried to the door, jaguar rooing very, very unnecessarily loud in his head about leaving Sol as a thought to reach out to the others floated up. Just in case, they needed to know, especially since theoretically another jaguar was going around biting kids. It for sure wasn't Sol or Frank and he'd prefer if it stayed that way. Knowing that one, maybe two later, jaguars were running around in Avondale seemed pretty important. So with that in mind, he fumbled for his phone in a pocket before successfully getting it free and then randomly dialing a for sure cat contact name that was categorized towards the bottom of the 'A's. Putting it to his ears, he closed the door and did a hurried run to the back where Frank was guessing their room's window let out at.

Incoming Call


Phone calls weren't usually great. But Frank was the kind of guy who signed his text messages, so maybe it was just a normal communication but he preferred calls?!

Abraham could dream.

Hey, man. What's up?


Why were there so many rooms to this godforesaken motel in the middle of fucking nowhere? In the middle of passing another vending machine a voice announced he'd dialed Abraham. What a weird way to come full circle today. Lunch with Abraham. Crisis heads up with Abraham. A pulling up car had him slowing to a normal hurried walk, wanting to avoid suspicion where possible just in case there were reports of giant cats later. So, speaking with forced whispering the first part about shifting, he then spoke normal the rest of the time.

Hey, uh, so Sol is shifting. We are at the, uhhhhh, hold on a minute.

What was the name of this place again? Take long strides out from under the hallway awning, he looked through the rain towards the lit up florescent sign, reading what it said in a blink.

The, uh, the Motel Glen Capri.

Walking quickly back under the sheltered sidewalk, he resumed the pace from before and thankfully saw the end of the strip of rooms coming up. That meant just a turn around there and it'd be the back. Hopefully, Sol would still be on the ground and hadn't broken into anyone's room yet looking for something to eat. If she were a smart cat, she'd go out into the woods where the meat had been hidden.

I got her outside, but I don't really know what to do here? I don't even know how I'm not shifted yet? Just thought you guys should know what was going on and where we are.


Hoooo boy.

Okay. So. Quick side note: Frank was at a motel with their youngest jaguar. (Well, second youngest if you included Tyler.)

Whatever. Push forward.

Sol shifting in public was real fucking bad, especially considering that she'd probably fucking eat someone.


Okay. Step one, calling me, was a good plan. You're doing good. Where... uh. Where exactly is this motel? Urban or rural?

Please be in the middle of bumfuck nowhere.

The teapot had emerged in her blossoming plump glory. Stuck in a giant and surprisingly durable hoodie. She chuffed at her predicament as she tried to shake it off. With unsheathed claws, she tore the garment off.

With a newfound sense of freedom from escaping that little predicament, the panther took off away from the motel to run and run and — ooh what’s that?

The scent of wet flesh drifted into her nose. She blinked a raindrop from her ivory eye.

Doing good was going to probably devolve into some kind of conniption soon, he was quite sure, but the vote of confidence was appreciated. One thing he was used to, a shit ton of stress on the daily, but where Were life was concerned, it was fairly new and he really didn't like testing the limits. Abraham not knowing where the heck this redneck place was honestly just icing on the cake. Finally reaching the end of the walkway, he turned the corner as he listened before answering the question.

It's in rural Avondale, out past Colorado Mills.

More hurried steps taking him to a brisk run around the next one. Finally in the back of the motel, he kept going, trying to figure out where in relation to here and their room was. It was a bit harder here now that there weren't street lights to help out.

Sol left some meat in the woods nearby just in case. I'm just worried she won't go there.

An unmistakable scent of fresh jaguar hit him just as he saw movement run some lengths past ahead.

Shit. I think I just saw her run off... anddd she's on all fours.

So much for going the rest of the way to the room. He stopped, a hand coming up to his forehead, honestly wondering what to even do. He could run after her, possibly get attacked and then what? Change as well? He could always just leave her, but that was out of the question almost as immediately as it had come up. No way was he going to just leave Sol running around loose out here in unfamiliar woods. So, he'd wait to see what Abraham would advise and go from there.


Okay, again, what was their oldest (maybe) jaguar doing with their youngest (maybe) member in an Avondale motel?

With meat in the woods?!

Okay. Avondale is good. No one owns that space, no group to get in trouble with. If she's a cat, she's probably going to go into the woods on her own, if they're close.

Maybe. That wasn't necessarily true. But being comforting felt important.

I'm going to head over, okay? I know this seems scary, but you're in a good spot, and this kind of thing happens a whole lot more than you'd expect. Maybe head back inside, and that'll give her nothing fun to look at outside the motel and she should go into the woods and tire herself out.


Thicc stumpy legs propelled the jaguar through the dark and wet forest, following her black nose. She was silent, on her own. Only the sound being her large paws sloshing and thundering across the ground reverberated through the forest.

Oh god he’d forgotten about the very real possibility of territory issues here at the confirmation that there wasn’t. This could’ve easily been more of a shit show if that had been the case and he was infinitely relieved. Looking off to where the possible jaguar had run off to, he didn't see any sign that Sol was going to come lumbering over to claw at him for the moment. His own cat wouldn’t settle the fuck down though which was a real nice reminder the question of the night— why wasn't he shifted yet? For some reason hanging out like this had made sense until the actual event of one of them shifting. Maybe it was because he hadn’t had a forced shift in a while other than a full moon. He’d had an constant stroke of luck at Yana’s and now here, but Sol was volatile. A shot and a question had set her on a one way ticket to jagville. Still, he tried to focus as much as he could to Abraham on the phone and the direction there. At least someone knew what to do and apparently this was a normal occurrence which was honestly really anxiety inducing to think about.

Sighing heavily because this was a lot and to try to brush off the rooing inside his own head, Frank started walking towards the window through the rain, wanting to nab up any traces that there had been a person there.

Taking a steadying breath he knelt to grab torn wet clothing and any other miscellaneous items that'd been left behind.

Ok, I'll be here.

Hopefully still human.

With that, he’d go to make the walk back to the front door of the room, soaked at this point, but that was the least of his concerns.

You got this. I'll be there soon.

Soon-ish. It was still a bit of a drive from Magic Hollow, and Abraham stopped on the way for fast food, both to soothe himself and to have something to offer Frank and possibly Sol.

At some point along the drive, he'd clumsily text:

What sour motel room number?

The weather wasn't great as he eventually arrived in the parking lot, his jaguar on high alert. He hurried through the drizzle to hopefully the right motel room, knocking on the door and listening carefully for rooing.

After chasing scavenging birds away (and trying to catch them: she got one!) she wolfed down the pile of meat. Then her attention fell upon the crow she had slain. It was small and the feathers were annoying and kept getting stuck on her bristled tongue.

Her tail twitched in irritation at how cumbersome the winged snack was being. When she finished it, there were still bits of feathers in her mouth. Her tongue thrashed and twisted, trying to get them out.

She set off to search for something with a little more meat on the bone (and a lot less feathers).

Knowing someone had faith in him about this was super odd since Frank himself felt like he was floundering.


With that he hung up and made a slower way back to the room. Once at the door, he opened and closed it behind him with a soft click. The ac running and the sound of rain through the open window was his only company for right now. It felt odd. Walking a bit into the room, the crunching of glass underfoot had him looking down, considering the glass from the broken bottle. It needed to be cleaned up and with time on his hands till Abraham got here, it seemed the most distracting thing to do.

Crouching down, he made to pick up a few big chunks, the smell of alcohol fumes wafting up from the pools of it on the floor. A sharp chunk bit into his fingers and he automatically dropped it, the force causing a smaller shattering as blood beaded up. "Shit," he breathed sharply, getting up and making the way to the bathroom. Why he thought that would even work was beyond him. Luckily, even cheap hell hole motels like this had towels. Grabbing the generic scratchy white poor excuse of one hanging from the rack, he made the way back to the mess and had an easier time picking the glass up and putting them into a trash bin. The now torn and stained towel was then used to mop up the pools of alcohol. After a few minutes, the floor was as clean as it was going to get with what he had and so he sat in the chair from before, keeping a wary eye on the opened window.

Phone going off, he thankfully read Abraham's text off, responding in kind with the room number. A knock soon enough had Frank walking to the door and opening it, his jaguar taking that as the moment to be absolutely ecstatic once again after being carefully shushed for a good ten minutes. Frank himself was still somewhat wet and a strained look was all his could manage in greeting, eyes blooming again to the jaguar's. "Hey, sorry about this. You can come in, but she's probably still in the forest behind here," he explained and let door open wide enough just in case. He'd follow wherever Abraham led.

He could smell something right away when Frank opened the door.


Protective instinct blossomed within him, and he was tempted to start asking questions about whatever the fuck was going on here. But Frank was clearly on edge, and intimidating him into shifting wouldn't do a lot of good.

"That's fine. It's better that she's there than running around in here. Tell me what happened?"

He stepped inside but didn't move to sit, breathing in the scent of spilled alcohol, though not spotting anything smeared across the floor.

The jaguar prowled across the wet ground, sniffing for scents. Her nostrils flared and she huffed out air. She zigzagged around in her search.

Finally, she came across the scent of deer. Her tongue flicked out to lick her nose as she inhaled the smell. A car horn in the distance caused her ear to twitch as she picked up a jog along the scent trail.

Well... if he thought so.

Shutting the door behind Abraham, Frank followed into the room with a deep sigh. How best to explain this?

He motioned to the table that still had the whisky and the box that had whatever the girl had considered hard stuff plus the snacks. ”Sol wanted to hang out. She had a “crazy” idea to see how many shots a Were could drink. I stupidly agreed to it." If the guy started in on how he should’ve known better, Frank really didn’t have the patience. Sue him for wanting to make an attempt at being friendly.

A hand dragged down his face. ”We each had one and then I asked her a question and suddenly she was shifting?” He was beyond puzzled here and still feeling like shit that he might’ve in some way caused this. ”I helped her to the window when talking didn’t work.” And now they were here. He motioned with hands out to enunciate this without talking. Crossing them then, Frank leaned against the wall, looking at Abraham and wondering what would be said.


That was real fucking stupid. Abraham felt the warm beginnings of anger at both Sol and Frank for what was an undoubtedly stupid idea.

"Alright. So."

He took a few steps further into the motel, mostly looking at nothing as he spoke. Abraham fought to keep his tone even.

"Sol got turned because she crashed her car drunk driving. No more alcohol chugging hangouts with her. I know you didn't know before, but. Now you do."

There was a whole fucking talk in order there with Sol, and Abraham didn't feel even remotely equipped to handle it.

"What was the question that set her off?"

The cat slowed as the scent became stronger. She could hear it eating. Tearing off branches from foliage.

Stalk, stalk, stalk.

The panther crept until the prey animal came into sight. She bunches up her hind legs and then, with a thrust of her large femurs, launched herself toward the deer. It spun and fled, but the jaguar was on the deer in a leap. The ungulate collapsed beneath her with a bellow. Her jaws closed down on its throat.

Oh crap! His eyes widened in surprise, the pieces falling together quite quickly. So it had been in response to a probably really bad scene because of drunk driving. That made a lot more sense for Abraham than just biting random people. Now, he definitely felt like shit completely and just hated this all together. Abraham was right, if he’d known this idea would’ve been immediately shot down and something much tamer supplied. If he could restart the day he would because this was a mess and Frank wanted out of it. ”Oh… I didn’t,” he managed to breathe out, looking away towards the table and the bottles there. Those was going to be put far, far out of reach of her little grabby paws and to never see the light of day again. Some deep part of him had a small stirring of anger at potentially being used as an excuse for Sol to continue a bad habit. She knew better, even had the punishment because of it, yet still chose to do this without giving him a heads up. With the cat trying to take the reigns tonight, the emotion flared up a bit more unnecessarily, enough to have him squeeze his arms tighter together in anticipation of a tremble that never happened.

The next question had him shifting his weight, looking back at Abraham. Was the conversation from a week ago continually going to be ripped open and dissected by everyone now? ”I was just curious why she went behind my back and talked to Asha about a problem she had with me rather than asking me directly.”

Of course you didn't know, Frank. Of course Sol wouldn't mention it, and Abraham wasn't going to put it on blast. But apparently he needed to.

Rubbing his hand to the back of his neck, he wondered where Sol was at this point. When it would be safe to go look for her.

Frank went into something that... well. Abraham had no idea about.

"I don't know what's going on, but. Probably because they're both women. And young."

Why was that enough to make Sol shift, though?

"So... I'm gunna wait a while. Probably a few hours. And then I'm gunna go out and look for her. I don't want to find her before she's passed out or else we'll have a whole group shift going on. I know the weather's shitty, but... she won't freeze. I just know this from experience."

The stocky panther tore away at the flesh. She swallowed down mouthfuls of venison. Absentmindedly, she shook out rain water from her sombre coat. Blood stained her large ivory teeth and darkened her pelt wherever it touched. There was a red mask on her face after having shoved her skull in to reach the organs.

Only bones and bits of flesh remained when the jaguar plopped herself down on the ground. Her wide tongue began to clean off the gore from her pelt, starting at her legs.

Well it was good to know that Abraham had no idea either. He just nodded in response to that, not really having an opinion if it were a girl thing or not. The word ‘close peers’ was probably best used in this scenario, but really it didn’t really matter. It had been childish or at least how he’d been looped into the conversation late as if to be interrogated by a group consensus.

The plan to wait around almost had Frank speaking up about how if she changed back she was going to freeze, but Abraham seemed to have had a similar thought. So instead, he looked to the window where rain could still be heard pounding down. It sounded like a finality, as if he should be shoo’d away, but he was good in that department. ”Well, if that’s the plan… I called you here and disrupted your evening so the least I can do is stay and be company and help clean up this… mess.” Also, he sort of didn’t trust himself in a car ride home. That hadn’t gone so well the last time he’d felt so on edge.

Abraham, truthfully, wasn't dying for company. But he knew Frank to be a more social guy, and in the end, kicking him out of his own motel room was maybe kind of rude.

So he nodded, moving to peer out the window as if Sol would be looking back at him.

"So, uh. You have any kind of shift kit you keep in your car? Blankets, food, extra clothing."

With her wet coat somewhat clean of blood, the jaguar rose with a mighty stretch of her limbs. Moon-like orbs glanced around, suddenly noticing the lack of stimulation brought by her fellows.

She huffed between strong sniffs, searching for the familiar cat scent. All she smelt was her own.

A few lonesome, loud roos went out into the dark and quiet forest as she began her search.

Not getting kicked out just yet was great and Frank breathed out a slow sigh of relief he didn't know he'd been holding. Cat in the car would have to wait for some other time and much worse luck.

He nodded at the suggestion. "Yeah, for a few months now. I can go get it out if needed." Frank unglued his form off the wall and would go do so if that's what Abraham was wanting. A sudden echoing animal cry had him pausing, looking towards the window quickly, hearing roos from his own cat at the familiar noise.

Abraham heard it, too. His cat stiffened within, wanting to go out. But a new cat was just too dangerous.

"I have a bunch of extra stuff I brought. Just making sure, I guess," he said, a little distant.

Maybe he could go out there, half and half style. It was tempting.

"But you're doing real good. I mean it."

He rubbed at the back of his neck again. The pull was very, very strong.

"I might see if there are cameras outside. You wanna find something on TV?"

Abraham didn't expect to be watching TV, but it might be a useful distraction for another anxious cat.

Nothing. No roos back. However, whilst sniffing for her buddies, she came across the faint scent of prey.

She abandoned searching for other cats and began to sniff after the unfortunate animal. One did not achieve the plump size of a teapot by sitting around all day.

Everything felt like a taut string and Frank barely registered how exactly un-present Abraham's response had been. He pushed against the cat that was trying to surge forward and was once again successful, especially as the conversation seemed to keep going. It kept his attention present and he forced his gaze back to the other guy in the room. "Uh, thanks," he said, accepting the compliment through a strained quick smile that dropped just as fast.

"Sure... sure," Frank agreed and began to look for the remote, anything to get his thoughts away from jaguar things. Finding it on a beat up dresser, he turned to the tv and began flipping through the channels to find something.

Abraham stepped our from the motel room in something of a haze, taking a short stroll along the well abused outside of the motel.

He looked up and around, searching for any flash of a camera. Eventually he did spot one, though...



A condom. Stretched over it. Abraham decided not to look at it long enough to decide if it had been used before or not.

Some more pacing revealed a bracket where a camera should have been and little else.

This place was a clusterfuck.

Walking back to the room, he looked to Frank with a somewhat tired smile.

"No cameras worth worrying about. I could go out there and wrangle her in... uh. Sort of a half jaguar, half Abraham form, but I don't want to leave you alone if it would worry you."

It was a hare. Not nearly as impressive and filling as a deer but. Food was food. Her paws splashed through a puddle.

Alas, her trail came to an end. Instead of a rabbit, she found a burrow. The cat grumbled as she paced around it before finally deciding to try digging the hare out of it. How deep could a burrow be anyway?

The door clicked shut and it was honestly a time trying to find something to watch. He didn't really watch tv very much and was unfamiliar with this provider's set up. It was more of a mind numbing task usually, but for right now, he was glazing over the names and descriptions because of another thing all together. Inwardly, his mental hold and composure was breaking. Frank was exhausted trying to keep things in check, but his cat was still infinitely curious about why there were two jaguars and was incredibly hung up on that call from earlier. It kept pushing. Rubbing a hand down his face, Frank sat down on the side of the bed, trying to still it as he channel surfed.

Another one and nothing. Cool, great, he pushed the down arrow again and surprise, surprise, nothing. Frank knew somewhere that his annoyance with this was highly more escalated than normal, but it didn't stop the irritation that sprang up like a nuisance. He almost wanted to throw the remote after getting to the 200s and finding nothing, but reconsidered in confusion.

Abraham entered after a bit and he looked up, happy to hear that the cameras weren't going to be an issue. That was one relief at least. It was the next scene that was painted that had him doing a double-take. "Great... Wait a second, You can just walk around with a face on your cat?" That was something highly unsettling and the notion caused him to loosen the grasp he had on the cat in disgust. He'd been slowly accepting a full one, but this was some kind of Underworld nonsense now and he really didn't want any part of it. Noting this, the jaguar pushed again, being a lot more aggressive than any of the times before. It wanted out! A tremble seized his body and a breath of air escaped slowly in pain. Dropping the remote, his hands came up to hold his head as Frank leaned heavily against the bed frame. "Give me a minute." Just a minute and he'd be ok, alright Abraham? He wouldn't shift here, ok? He was going to try his best at least and it was going to be a feeble one at that.


Of all things to set Frank off, some ridiculous mental image of a cat face... er. Human faced cat. Whatever.

Frank was shit out of luck. Abraham wondered how long this would last, the guy fighting it off and resisting and repeating it.

In the end, there was one way to really lose the desire to shift for a bit.

Unfortunately, it was... shifting.

"Hey, dude. I think what this all means is we just need to go have a cat party. We're by the woods. Let's walk out, you and me, and you tell your cat to hang on for just a minute until you're in its happy place to shift, alright?"

He was already pulling out his phone in one hand and reaching to carefully put a palm to Frank's shoulder with the other.

Internally he was grappling for purchase, to push this back. The cat was making a lot of noise in return and kept up it's own attempt. This had honestly been going on since Sol had had her spell, but now the tides had changed and the jaguar was going to make the most of it. Everything felt way too hot and shaking in his arms was enough to confirm with a deep sense of dread this wasn't going to end how he'd like.

Frank grabbed onto the words Abraham said like a buoy, hoping it'd help and decided almost immediately those instructions were a no can do. He didn't want to shift. He never did. Why would now be any different even if they were in a shitty motel room that smelled of alcohol and cheap carpet cleaner? Frank was fully committed to just sit here while he tried to push this back.

As Abraham reached out, he shrank from the touch to the shoulder a bit, but ultimately the palm reached him. Taking a hand to place on Abraham's arm originally to push it off, a sharpness and then pain in his chest signaled something had moved or bent and it was enough for him really accept this was happening. Staying here wasn't an option. So instead, his grip became one of assurance. "I'll try," he managed to say as Frank carefully got to unsteady feet, still holding that arm, thoughts trying to be given to the jaguar in an attempt to let it know the plan. If he could just hold on till they got around back again, this would be a less painstaking process.

Good news: it would take a good couple minutes for Frank to shift.

Bad news: Abraham had a lot to get done in that time.

"Okay. Cool. You just gotta fight it for a little bit. Gimme your motel key, and make sure you leave your wallet and phone here."

As he spoke, he typed out a clumsy message to Asha.

taking new cats for s shift, they're too Ntsy but all is good love you mow meow
King Barlit

"And in the meantime, I need you to tell me what kind of vitamins a guy my age oughta be taking. I mean detailed, Frank."

An absolutely stupid distraction, but Abraham had long found that stupid, human questions seemed to help slow everything down a little.

The mention of a motel key had him looking towards the bundle of ripped Sol clothes that had been set by the snacks. He recalled something looking like that there. So while grabbing his wallet and phone out of pockets, which he very much would've forgotten to do again, Frank spoke up. "Sol's clothes have it." Dropping the phone and wallet on the bed, another wave of heat hit him and the floor was the best thing to look at right now. It didn't spin nearly as much as Abraham's face seemed to.

Abraham asking about vitamins had him huffing in amusement, realizing why and thinking. Another tremor and he felt a sliding rib or two, causing a sharp inhale as his thoughts raced. Frank needed to answer that question and use it as a means to still this and so, guessing an age, he tried as promised. "Omega-3 Fatty Acids for your heart," he started, taking a step forward when the guy would do it with him, so they could get out of here.

"And to prevent... to prevent... cardiovascular disease." Which probably wasn't a thing because they were fucking weres, but ok. That thought had a tensing in his shoulders take hold and he quickly breathed out another vitamin, fully prepared for something to happen again soon "Vitamin D... calcium... for bones." A sickening pop and his other arm went limp as it was forced to dislocate out of the socket. He breathed through teeth before starting again. "Crap... uhh...," he fumbled trying to get over the sting in his shoulder. It was still better than a break though, or so he was telling himself. "Boron."

Clothes. Check. Cool. He made a quick move to feel around kind of guiltily in the pile of fabric until he came across what definitely felt like the key, fishing it out and shoving it into his own pocket.

Frank listed off vitamins, bless his fucking soul, and Abraham flung his own keys and wallet onto the bed until he had only the key for the motel on him.

"Boron?" he asked. "What's that do?"

He sought to wrap an arm around the guy who had saved his ass in the past and lead them both out of the room and, if Frank could manage it, at a fairly quick pace toward the woods.

Abraham heard his phone ding as the door closed behind them.

Hopefully Asha would be alright.

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