"Snap out of it ya pansy..." Shaking off the dead memories, Artemus looked around and drew in the scent of the cemetary. Turned earth and the long dead mixed with fresh flowers...and fresh corpses were inhaled and released in the same breath.
Leaning his back against the grave and sliding down to sit, his eyes looked over the quiet environment taking a sort of comfort in it. Even if his thoughts were far from comforting. The problem with his power base still nagged the back of his thoughts, but the way to get it back all ready seemed more of a mountain than he could climb just yet. He'd have to work on any lost control first. He'd met too many that sent out large waves, or subtle rains as their energy.
Artemus? He always worked on precision. Controlled needle points or stabbing aura that could pierce those larger fields and swirling bubbles that dispersed them from overrunning him. He never fought overwhelming odds, he molded to them like the tide becomes part of the Tsunami, drawing in the destructive nature and using it for his own strength. Holding his left hand up to the moonlight, the younger Kurgen focused on the bones, the muscle, the tissue, and imagined the skin rippling. The sensation started as pins, then needles where the top layer of the epidermus began to bubble, white hairs growing longer with black flecks.
His teeth grind against the pain as his nails begin to yellow and elongate. A hint of blood showing at the bases before the middle and little finger snap, and break, widening. Chest rumbling he thought through the pain, holding on to that focus which threatened to shatter. Artemus drew in the pain and built on it. Willing the change to speed up. In that moment he hated the Unseelie far more than any hunter could hope to be despised.
His mind went back to them. Feeling their hands of power, the mosaic of pain and fear they sought to drag out of him. And when they didn't get what they wanted...they took his power. Siphoned away the energy he had worked so hard to build like he were a living milk shake. And when they took their fill...they sold him like cattle. What the fae had failed to do, that 'thing' succeeded at. With these new thoughts came that palid face and broken fangs as it sang children's tales before feeding.
An unconscious whimper slipped past his lips as focus finally shattered. The power falling away and setting his skin and bones back to normal. Shivering, Artemus leaned his head back against the stone and kicked the dirt with his heels. Anger welled up in him like mount St. Helens erupted and surrounded him in a heavy miasma of emotion. Artemus drew upon that hate, let it fill him completely. Pushing to stand, he barely felt himself change. Too fluid to smooth, he only noticed when a cloud shifted and cast his shadow before him. Eyes sharper than ever remembered, he looked at his feet and saw insects crawling between blades of grass. Too startled to react, the anger fled as fast as it had risen. And with it went his hybrid form. Bewildered, he looked around wildly to make sure none had seen as cotton overwhelmed his mouth, stealing all the moisture. "What the hell happened to me?"
Snarling in frustration his blond mane snapped back and forth as though he could shake the futility away. Futility and confusion weren’t things he enjoyed. Then again, no one did. It was a disturbing revelation that he might be broken more than originally thought. If a strong sense of anger brought on the change like that, he’d be toeing the execution line. No way in hell he’d risk that. “What am I gonna tell Kota?”
That impending discussion alone made his stomach flip. Not that he was scared of her, but in this place she was the buoy to keep him from drifting rather than the reverse. A few quick slaps knocked that thought process from his mind pretty damned quick and got it back to the present. “Alright…anger causes the shift. This is therianthrope one-oh-one.”
Scrubbing at his face, Artemus began to pace a little bit, hands gripping the opposite wrist behind his back. Five strides, pivot, five strides, pivot, back and forth he moved as though walking a dividing line. “Is it every form of anger, or just epic rage?” This might have to be something he’d need someone else for. Someone to help him test this; however he didn’t have any friends down here except for Kota and Lowel. Now that’d be fun. ‘Hey Dakota, I need you to piss me off…’ Go over real well.
“As long as its just anger, I can still deal. Can still deal, should still test the full gauntlet though. Dakota probably thinks I’ve started batting for the other team since I haven’t taken her wall to wall. Jesus, women, man, want a guy that’s Wolverine tough but still girlie like Jimmy Fallon.” Grimacing he filed those thoughts for later before pausing mid-stride.
“Might be a good idea to go and see that Jess chic and ask about anything strange from my initial examina - why the hell am I talking to myself? Sweet leapin Jesus in a G-string I need more friends.” Shaking out of his melancholy, Artemus started off at a lope towards Tulane Clinic. Even if she wasn’t there he could still inquire about his examination records.
