The Games We Play (Golly and Fallen)
 

Name: Deforest Macy Ahern
Age: 22
Bio: Deforest spent the majority of his childhood training to be a weapon on reserve for any trouble. He’d been forced into this life along with his mother, who’d been discovered as a shifter after a long cycle of on and off depression upon the sudden disappearance of her husband. Deforest’s father had been long working abroad and was suspected to have been murdered or otherwise captured (as he too was a shifter). The pair attempted to escape, but, as Deforest was very young, were not able to get far before they were caught. Immediately, Deforest was put into harsh training while his mother was tested on. As years passed, those who’d been training Deforest looked to selling him to the government to be used for military purposes. Much to their displeasure, they were not offered nearly as much as they’d wanted. So, Deforest was sold in an auction to a wealthy family that lived in a rural area of Greece. Of course, Deforest fought this to stay with his mother, but to no avail.

After several years of loyal servitude, Deforest gained the trust of the family and with the help of a boy who’d almost become a brother to him, made a great escape as the family held a grand Easter celebration, where they again planned to show off their favorite pet/family member. His first thought was to search for his mother, but upon returning to his training center, learned that she’d died shortly after his departure. Alone in the world, Deforest did all he could think to do then and moved to the States in the hopes of forgetting, letting go, and perhaps starting anew. He was lucky enough to find other shifter to live with and work for.

Appearance:

The past was now not only separated by time, but distance as well. Still, even half a world away, it still followed so closely. Although escape from the land where everything had begun was successful, running from something that naturally distanced itself was somehow impossible. No whiteout could fully blot the detailed descriptions long inked into his very self. No space could ever keep nightmares from following. There was no blank page to begin with.

It had only been a few months since his arrival. To his disappointment, he’d found no others like himself. Only creatures that could blend in with common animal species were to be found, as if the others did not wish to be found or simply no longer existed. Only weeks had come to pass since he’d finally settled down in the vast country. A horse community surrounded by fields of fresh air had become his new home.

He stayed with a particularly apathetic old woman who viewed the world in a dryly humorous and cynical way. From her pessimistic jokes, what Deforest drew the most intrigue from was the way she was able to laugh so fully, throwing her entire withered body into the motion and slapping his knee to pull him into the laughter as well. The woman reminded him of his visits to the retirement home his previous family had put their eldest member when he had be declared senile. That man too had been able to feel emotion with his entirety; as though having lost most of his sight and hearing, it was all he had left.

Other members of the community seemed to turn noses up upon hearing he was different in his shifting, while some were fascinated to the point of sending uncomfortable chills down his spine. Among the few that had discovered him within the past day or so, there was little middle ground between this hate and interest. Neither side was more welcoming than the other. Only the old mare had shown any signs of sympathy insofar.

Deforest strolled through a field near the border of the little community in human form. As of late, he’d grown even more uncomfortable with shifting. Not only was there the ever present problem of fearing such changes left him out of control in himself (especially having spent so much time with others giving the orders while he was in shifted form), but now he also knew it was important to keep quiet about such an ability. Curious eyes were always ready and searching for information to pass down the grapevine, it seemed.

A soft wind blew, tossing his hair and filling lungs with a much needed breeze. This, he told himself, face pointed up toward the sun so its soft rays could warm him, must’ve been what it felt like to be one’s own- to be free. If only every moment felt like walking through that field and he needn’t be ashamed of himself for anything at all. But, even in the lands he’d fled to in hopes of gaining this right, actions were restricted by social norms.

Had the woman he stayed with been there, she would have said, “Freedom? You’ll never find that as long as people are in a million mile radius!” This would have been followed with a chuckle that originated in the back of her throat and tossed out the stale smell of smoke from the cigarettes she snuck when she thought no one was looking. Already it felt as though he knew her so well.

So caught up in his musings, Deforest failed to realize he wasn’t alone until he stumbled over a rock and, upon looking in the distance, spotted what appeared to be a horse.

Although he’d been transforming long before speaking or walking, Deforest never could get use to the sight of watching another transform. It still filled him with awe. Unlike his, this transformation was not accompanied by shrieks and screams and cracks of breaking and reforming bones. The awful pain that accompanied his transformations were something else Deforest could never find himself comfortable with. Even just thinking about it made him ache down to the marrow of bones that had been snapped time and time again. He could almost envy her for having such a graceful change.

Deforest actually hadn’t watched too many transformations in his life time. They’d only been seen with steady frequency since he’d left Europe and come to live among others similar to himself. As a child, he’d only watched his mother, who often would undergo painful shifting in times of distress. Like her son, she was not able to make the change show any beauty, unless one looked to the darker half of beautiful- in things such as the elegance of torture and death. Growing up, he’d only met other fearsome creatures, being raised for protection and as weaponry in the same way he had been. The first smooth shift he had seen was in a young boy who could become a wolf with the greatest of ease. The two had shared a room for a short period, and Deforest had watched the easy shift again and again. He appreciated it as much as one would a fine renaissance painting.

“Hello. I’m Deforest Ahern- but Mrs. Willoworth has taken to calling me Macy,” clearing his throat, Deforest held out a hand to greet her, “There’s really no need to worry about ruined plans. I’ve never been a schemer. I just came out for much needed air. I guess I’m more of a dreamer and my dreams are hard to disturb. They come even when I’m awake.” There was a light chuckle in his voice, taking up the trait of the old woman to force humor into his words.

Putting to use his practiced manners, Deforest gave a smile and nod to go along with his firm handshake. Embarrassment leaked through as he’d forced too much and brought up a misplaced chuckle that made Deforest quickly glance down at his feet. Ms. Willoworth would’ve very well been ashamed that her little tenant was making such a fool of himself.

“I suppose it’s better to keep from remembering any dreams, really. I’ve been using mine as a crutch for too long now, and I’m afraid reality tends to slip away from me some days,” Deforest could only wince at hearing his middle name being used so casually by another. The trend was quickly catching on, especially when Willoworth took to introducing him and speaking of him only as Macy.

Her shiver hadn’t gone unnoticed, though. Quickly getting over himself and returning to the present, Deforest brought himself to begin a casual, slow pace in a strange circle around the other shifter. It was a tick brought with him from his transformed state- an almost predatory saunter around what made him nervous, as if to show off a lack of fear (though, in this case, only worked to either bring discomfort to full light, or make him seem even more lacking in social grace). “It doesn’t matter much that we haven’t met in the past. We’re meeting now… but, are you feeling alright?”

Deforest only nodded as she continued on the topic of dreams in silent agreement, his feet still slowly moving one in front of the other in a circle with a shrinking circumference- actually, as he hadn’t even made it once around, it was really more of a spiral. All at once, as their conversation continued, he seemed to calm entirely as what had just earlier been a predatory walk around the poor shifter became more of a fidgety saunter and his step gained a new jump.

It was when she froze that Deforest stopped moving. A foot carelessly kicked up and abused a bit of grass to take attention from ashamed eyes that could only be brought to look in the distance, past her. His leaning so much on instinct had been something that had been cause for laughter and anger in the past- both should have taught that the actions were bad, but neither seemed to do anything in ceasing the behavior.

Clearing his throat, Deforest set aside shame to give a reply. Like his steps had been, his words came out long and slow, as if they too intended to be the cause of shivering spines. “Yes, I’m fine.” Realizing the harshness of tone, Deforest quickly cleared his throat, casting his eyes to the foot that still worked hard to properly beat that patch of land. “I’m just not use to being around other shifters, or at least shifters as peaceful as the ones here. Actually, I’m quite unused to just living in a community situation, shifters or not, the dreadful peace is strange.”

As her eyes left to scan the distance, Deforest’s own gaze followed along, unable to find anything of interest. That she seemed almost annoyed with him now forced Deforest back into a corner. It’d been too long engraved in his head to back down at the first sign of disapproval for the habit to be dropped so quickly.

“I guess I really am that much of a dreamer. I almost forgot that peace and freedom are more than afternoon walks in empty fields,” with each word, his voice grew softer, until it could only just barely be heard above the soundtrack of their breaths and all else that played in the field. “It’s hard to keep from being in awe, though, in a place where there’s nothing to remind me of home but myself.”

Although serious, the smile that still lived upon his lips took his words down several notches, so he still came off as stupidly amicable as ever. The eyes that still focused on finding just what she’d looked at in the distance, despite his sneaking suspicion that, like him, she’d done it to remove tension of eye contact, sparkled with a childish joy. Any news of disappearances had eluded Deforest, who still moved innocently; as though he believed he’d truly found a temporary sanctuary. “I know the common fear of truth myself- I suffer from it every day, and I have for the longest time. It’s a flaw I’ll own up to… but, who let you in on this secret?”

There was a sudden urgency in the way the other shifter moved. Before Deforest had the time to respond or even take a step to follow her back, she’d shifted and taken off with full speed. Although he had no idea as to what just happened, Deforest knew well enough to do the same. For the first second, he stupidly attempted to keep up in his human form, wanting to do all in his power to keep from having to shift with no reason.

Whatever had driven that shifter to run must have been more than fear of being late to a dinner. The sun was only just setting. Although he dreaded it, there was little other option but to again copy the action. Still too far to clearly see the smoke, Deforest stopped in his tracks and pressed his eyes tightly shut.

With clenched teeth, his entire body lurched forward hard enough to knock Deforest off balance in an uncontrolled spasm. Tightening his face was the only way to keep the building cry trapped within him, where it wouldn’t cause any alarm. Bent on all fours, Deforest’s back arched in another jerking of muscles. Beneath him, his hands desperately dug and clawed at the grass to quickly form two new holes in the earth. Groans and grunts escaped the tight purse of his lips, although they were covered by echoing cracks that seemed to happen erratically as changes were made with little order. Already, his clothes had begun tearing at seems as a figure too large for his human form to logically withhold took place of the dark-haired Deforest.

First, from his still human back, a set of wings tore their way out, exploding to full size to immediately overtake the rest of him. Now all of his limbs seemed more animal, as shoulders shifted and from already large hands came a larger set of talons that still abused the poor earth and unsettled more dirt, scratching at the ground for all that he was worth. In one big and bold move, he’d stuffed the entire cloth of his clothing and the seams finally fully gave way to leave behind tattered evidence that, in that spot, Deforest had shifted. Sometime in all of that, the rest of his features had slowly given way to the change and other than those stern eyes, no signs of Deforest could be found in the majestic and terrible beast.

The change was complete when the pressure of that scream finally became too much and from the deepest part of his self exploded the most awful mix of a human scream and a bird’s cry.

The process, although grueling and painful, took only a moment and, although aching just the littlest bit, Deforest was off and running faster than before, already again set on the task of getting to the community and, more specifically, the motherly woman who’d taken him in. Trotting faster and faster, steps became lighter as wings opened in their full width and came down hard, as though to push the very earth away. With that, Deforest was in the air and moving higher.