What goes bump in the night

"Unfortunately not with the methods I use. To facilitate such a thing without physical contact would require a great deal of equipment as well as someone who understands its use well enough to recognize where the supernatural is interfering. As it stands, this is the better alternative. I ask only that you sit in front of me, I will be respectful."
 
Neimi made her way down the hallway, looking for an escape to the outside. As it was, she was not sleeping indoors tonight. The idea still irked her a bit. She preferred to sleep out in the wild; it was where she felt comfortable. Once outside, her body morphed into her werecat self and she ran off into the surrounding area. Time to get acquainted with the island.
 
Vojta sighed. "If it's truly unavoidable, then the least I can suggest is restraints of some sort. Something to get in the way in case 'fight or flight' kicks in and I react irrationally, which given my...mortifying fear of contact, is quite possible."
 
Leceel glanced over at Geist, motioning him to come closer.


"Between Geist and myself, there should be no issues. I . . . let's just say there's a reason I live in an underground vault. Please, sit."


Leceel's left shoulder shrugged a bit, and it almost seemed like some kind of growl emanated from within the cast that held it


---------------------


"If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave then."


Muerte followed the exact route they had taken to arrive, including all the unnecessary twists that Geist had taken for fun. Once back at the armory, one of the worker was kind enough to direct him to the rooms that the others had headed to.


"Room 401, and your roommate is already within I believe."


Muerte narrowed his eyes, but said nothing as he started up the spiral staircase. He didn't room with other people . . . they tended to be nervous at best and downright horrified at worst. He opened the door without a word, seemingly ignoring the man with the gloves on one side of the room. In stark contrast to Samuel, Muerte only had the barest essentials to what was needed. A plain bed, a small dresser, and a rack with several desert eagles resting on it. There were even two open slots for the pair he was carrying with him. He pulled the guns off his belt and set them on the rack before sitting on the bed.
 
Samuel observed calmly as Muerte entered. He was minorly surprised that his presence wasn't acknowledged, but waited for him to sit on his bed before politely clearing his throat. "You must me Muerte, correct? I'm Samuel, as you might know. I don't mean to pry, but I'm curious as to what brings you to this oganization. Are you human, like that russian man? Are you...not human, like Neiminassa? Or are you like me, a bit in-between?" His head was cocked slightly to the side as he wondered aloud.
 
Muerte raised an eyebrow at the man's question. Such was not what he was used to. He stepped over to the dresser and opened it, finding a pair of more comfortable clothes to sleep in.


"I was brought to this organization because my talents could be useful. As to my status as human, there's a great deal of debate that could be had over that but the short answer is 'no'."


As he pulled off his shirt, there were several areas on his skin that had been sewn shut. Many of them were several weeks old, but were still healing.
 
Samuel's expression changed to one of shock. "You...what happened to you? You must be in extreme pain." He couldn't quite bring himself to reveal his powers, no matter how much he wanted to heal him. Besides his own level of insecurity, that level of trauma would greatly affect his own body.
 
"Oh, these? Nothing special. My body heals slower than a normal human's so this is a necessity. And no, I'm not in extreme pain. I've never felt pain once in my life."


He gave the answer almost as if he were a robot, like it was just something normal and not to be worried over. He slipped on the loose pants and shirt that would suit him for the night. The final thing he grabbed was one of the guns of the rack, and stuck it beneath his pillow.
 
Samuel stood, and moved to the turntable. "Cannot feel pain...do your injuries affect you at all?" He spoke as the stopped the needle and put away the record into the cabinet where he got it. "You aren't immune to dying, are you?"
 
"Some people think I am. It's certainly difficult to fear something that has shrouded you since the day you were born. But no, I am not immortal, much as some would like to claim."


Muerte pulled himself into the bed and lay flat on his back


"Is there a point to all these questions?"
 
Samuel let out a small laugh as he alphabetized his new record collection. "Well, I just figured that since we'll most likely be working together, and especially since we are now roomates, we may as well know a bit about each other. In light of that, feel free to ask anything of me as well. I'd hate this to be a one-sided Q&A session. Though if you'd rather sleep, just say so. In that case I'll leave you alone." He seemed satisfied with his organization and moved to his own dresser and opened it, selecting a rather nice outfit of sleepwear. "My word, this is silky!" he said, as he admired the fabric, and changed. It was clear that he wasn't used to this quality in the least.
 
"What are your skills with regards to combat and possible missions. That is the only knowledge I require."


Meurte closed his eyes and pulled the blankets over him. It was odd, he simply lay flat on his back, and didn't try to get into any kind of comfortable position. He cared not for this man's attempts at camaraderie, they were allies on missions. That was it.
 
Samuel hesitated as he got into bed. He looked rather odd to the common person, seeing as he hadn't taken off his gloves. Of course, had he removed them, he would've risked destroying the bed as he slept. "Well...nothing, really. I have no idea how to fight - egad, this bed is comfortable! - and I prefer to avoid combat. I know parkour, or freerunning, or however you want to call it. Basically, I can get from A to B quite quickly regardless of terrain, but as far as fighting goes...you'd be dramatically better off with those two Russians." His voice was a bit sad. He genuinely wished he could help in a fight, but conflict just wasn't in his nature. "I'm still wondering exactly why the PDA needs me...unless they don't have a medic..." He stopped, because he didn't want to say too much about his powers.
 
"They do have a medic. Or at least someone decently versed in a doctor's practice. Knowing the mentality of someone in charge of an organization, the commander likely tries to get as much talent or supernatural power as he can to complete his duty."


With that, Muerte closed his eyes. He almost seemed to pass on, as he breathing slowed next to nothing, and if one touched him, his skin would have felt very cold indeed.
 
Samuel heard Muerte's breathing all but stop, and knew he'd gone to sleep. He laid in bed, staring at the cieling for several minutes, thinking about their talk. If they have a medic, why do they need him around? It makes sense to have more than one, of course...but when the medic is capable of just as much harm as healing, can he really be useful? I guess I'll find out, Samuel thought with a sigh, and drifted off to sleep.
 
The night was peaceful, except for an ear-splitting yowl. A creature half-cat half-human was roaming through the forests, checking the territory surrounding the building. No animal dared to cross its path. The crescent moon rose above the trees and glinted down into the creature's eyes. It climbed up into a tree, staring up at the moon. One more yowl of territorial dominance escaped its teeth before it settled down on a large limb to sleep.


-------------------------


Haiku could not sleep; she just tossed and turned. At midnight, she got up and left her room, strapping on her swords. She walked past Adrian's room quickly, attempting to be quiet as she went. It was probably better to practice for her fight with Adrian. Nervously, she quickened her pace. Haiku wanted to be in best form if she was going to fight against another skilled fighter.
 
On a normal day, Adrian probably would have heard Haiku pass his room. His seasoned and honed senses would have alerted him to her presence. However, he was in a deep sleep, given the level of trauma his body had recently endured. Even if he had heard her, he would have gone back to sleep: he needs his rest to recover.
 
Vojta sat wearily. "No matter how you say it, I get the short stick." He sighed. "That's okay though. I've gotten used to it for all these years. Let me focus my resolve and you can proceed," He said while inhaling deeply and closing his eyes.
 
Leceel nodded and gave Vojta several minutes to collect himself. Once done, he only did a few exercises. He checked Vojta's pulse, using his wrist. Then ran his fingers against his temples, and finally pulled out a large stone from where the other beads had been. This one was jet black onyx, that seemed to absorb all the light aimed at it. He pressed it against Vojta's forehead, but didn't run it over like he had the other two.


"Well . . ."


Leceel leaned back in the chair.


"You hold a powerful bloodline within you young man, though you share the weaknesses of it as well as the strengths of it."


He turned around and pulled a book off the shelf


"You may leave at your convenience Vojta, I apologize for the intrusion."


----------------------------------


Shepard was up at 5:00 the next morning, he was already going through reports from different places around the world. There was one coming in from France . . . He was soon on the phone and discussing in fluent French.


Muerte continued to sleep like the dead, quite literally, until 6:00. At that point his eyes opened and his breath returned to normal. It was a few minutes before he was back into his usual attire and strapping a pair of desert eagles to his waist.
 
Samuel awoke midway between 7 and 8 am, slowly getting out of bed and preparing for the day. He decided to start the day with a stroll along the beach, and get his bearings on the island. He'd return to the main building within the hour.


Adrian bolted upright at 10:04 am, exclaiming "Gah! I've overslept!" (He usually wakes up at 8). He got dressed and debated what to do for the day. He decided that a good warmup would be martial arts on the beach, after he got some breakfast of course (a glass of orange juice, 3 waffles and a 12 ounce t-bone steak).
 
Haiku had fallen asleep in her practice space and awoke with a start. Morning had come and she had slept in until 8? How inexcusable. She got up, stretching limbs and cracking joints. After a quick stop up in her room for her black bikini, she headed down to the beach in order to get in some swimming. Yesterday had been a dream right? So she should go about her routine as usual.


------------


In a tree not far from where Samuel was walking down the beach, a creature sat up in a tree. Its cat-like body stretched as it awoke. Her eyes fell on the figure and a grin covered its face. Gathering up in her lungs, she let out a screeching yowl directly at the man.
 
Samuel had been admiring the scenery when he heard the yowl. He nearly jumped out of his clothing as he stumbled over his feet in terror-induced panic, falling flat on his face in the sand. He scrambled to flip himself over, frantically looking around for the source while holding his left hand over his heart.
 
The cat creature jumped down, standing on two legs and stared at him solemnly for a moment. Then, it began to laugh. The fur receded and there stood Neimi, smiling.


"Scared you!"


---------------


Haiku made it down to the beach and froze when she saw Adrian practicing martial arts. She froze; it wasn't a dream? Hiding behind a tree, she peered out. Okay, why was she intimidated by this guy? There was no reason, no point to it. Taking a deep breath, she strode past him, though deliberately crossing to the water from over twenty feet away. She laid her wrap that covered her out of the water's reach and walked into the water, ignoring the fact that it was cold.
 
*BANG*


*BANG*


Muerte unloaded his entire clip into the target before switching hands and repeating the process. With both guns empty he looked at the target sheet that had been there. Killed, but he had missed the vital area 3 times out of 10, he could do better. A new sheet was put back up, and he started to repeat the process . . .
 
Waking up, Lucky yawned. "That... was a really nice bed" He walks out of the room, and begins a hunt for the very exclusive breakfast.
 
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