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Merc's Metamorphs

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Chapter 17: The Rook (Revisited)

Merc had only once before experienced the surprise of encountering a new Metamorph, and that had been when Juan and Chance became Bruiser and Demon; the newest addition to his introduction to a new Metamorph was no less surprising-- if anything, it was probably more so. "What the hell is going on?"

Christopher who, by all rights, had the most reason to be freaking out, was eerily calm about the entire thing. Lifting an arm/wing, the Raven stared at his feathers. "At least my feathers are a deep, rich black."

Bruiser's mind reached out to the team's. "I believe he is in shock."

All three of Merc's Metamorphs jumped in surprise when Christopher replied "No... it's not shock. I'm just finding the situation novel."

Demon shot a quick glare at the Orca. "So you broadcast to him too? What the fuck's up with that, Bruiser?"

Bruiser honestly seemed surprised. "That's not how it works, Demon. I opened up the link to the TEAM."

Christopher's attention was pulled from his wing, and the hand-like, graspy appendage at the end of his wrist-- far too hand-like to belong on a bird, but still a little too talon-like to be human. "Well, I would presume everyone's' powers are based on intent more than direct will and, considering the nature of Ngalyod's Grasp, it would make sense that your power would affect me as well in this case. On another note: that's the telepathy-thing I've heard about, huh? That's handy!"

Merc said nothing, simply watching the Raven move. Christopher's new body was alien in many ways-- between the wings instead of arms with the strange, hand-like talons at the ends plus the slightly hunched posture and backward bending, drumstick-like legs ending in bird-like foot talons, he was definitely the spitting image of a Human/Animal hybrid that was a Metamorph, but it simply wasn't something the Kangacobra had expected to see... he had to admit that he really liked the pearlesent shimmer off of the Raven's black feathers though. It was kinda sexy.

Demon's scowl deepened and he had no trouble finding words to say. "You're going on about that Nimrod's Grasp thing again? What the hell's up with that and what does that have to do with... well..." he gestured among the four of them. "...this?"

The Raven remained calm and collected. "Well... considering when Frank-- ah, apologies-- when MERC feels strongly about someone it seems that the glove extends its power to them as well. I-- that is to say, presuming you DO feel strongly about me?"

There was something so heart-achingly adorable about the way Cy's corvid eyes looked at him when the question was asked that Merc almost felt like his fangs would rot out from the precious cuteness. Rather than provide a direct answer, the Kangacobra pushed forward. "So... when I changed, all of you change because I like you?"

Christopher rubbed the underside of his beak in thought as if he were stroking his chin. "Perhaps. It could be more complicated than that, I suppose... a degree of--" he trailed off until his feathers puffed up and he let out an excited squawk, pausing immediately afterward as he withdrew sheepishly asking "Was that ME?"

Demon and Bruiser both answered simultaneously with their respective races "Dogs/Orcas don't squawk."

Merc sat down on the sofa letting out an exasperated sigh; the furniture creaked beneath his weight. "Cy-- you have a theory about this?"

The Raven nodded. "Yes, actually... I think I may have changed because I had DNA from you in me."

Bruiser's face was not often easily read due to its limited expressions but the incredulity was plain to see. "Metamorphism isn't a an STI."

Demon had remained where he'd been when he came out of the room, arms folded across his chest as he stated flatly "You know... out of everyone here, I think YOU should be freaking out the most, but you seem the calmest out of all of us."

Christopher looked to the Dog, feathers fluffing up. "To be honest, 'freaking out' doesn't solve problems, and this is something through which I-- and all of us, need to work through, Demon."

Bruiser let out a restrained laugh in the form of a faint squeak. "Can't argue with that, I guess."

The Pit bull still scowled. "Seems like you're encouraging him with a response like that."

Merc raised a talon to calm everyone. "Relax. We can figure this out together."

Demon wasn't done. "Well, it's obvious he knows more than we do... don't you think it'd be a good idea to share with the group?"

The Bird shrugged, feathers fluffing out as his wings rose the lowered. "I honestly don't. I mean... I DID do a lot of research into Ngalyod's Grasp, but that's only because I like to know what and who I'm working with... I didn't want to overstep when--"

The Pit bull interjected "When you were blackmailing us? That's kinda a big overstep."

Merc glared at the Dog. "Chill. We've already gone over that. Water under the--"

Christopher rested his wing talon on the Kangacobra's shoulder. "No, it's okay, Merc. Demon has a right to be angry. It's not something I expect to be forgiven for in the immediate sense. I still have to earn trust."

Merc slumped back against the sofa, speaking up to the group. "Cy and I were taking about the glove." he held his arm, showing it off. "He seems to know a little about it, including the fact that we can take Metamorph form more often than two hours a day."

Bruiser held up his own webbed hand in front of his face, turning it around. "That must be true... I'm fairly sure we've done almost two and a quarter by now."

The Raven clarified. "Unlike most Metamorph shifting, Ngalyo--" he paused when Demon glared at him again. "The 'glove' allows for two hours after sundown and and before dawn, and another two hours after sunrise and before dusk."

Merc offered an encouraging smile. "Good to know-- that means traveling will be a lot faster in the future."

Christopher looked quizzically at that comment but nobody bothered explaining. Bruiser quickly stepped in to ask a question of their guest. "So what's the whole focus on the glove?"

In response, the Raven sat down on the coffee table across from Merc while rotating his head almost 100 degrees to respond to the Orca. "Ngalyod's Grasp-- 'the glove', is a relic attached to Metamorphs. It is the reason Frank is Merc, why the two of you are Bruiser and Demon, and, apparently, why I'm a Raven."

Merc asked a question he'd been considering since he'd first started talking with Cy about the glove. "Okay... so you said WHY you learned about the glove, but WHERE did you learn it all? This kind of information isn't exactly something you can look up in a library, is it?"

Cy shook his head. "No... not really--- if anything those might teach legends, but not really applicable knowledge. Almost everything I learned I picked up from the Chessmaster's database."

Demon's ears rose. "A HA! So he IS the Chessmaster. Just like we thought. A nickname to use on top of a fake name? Wow... that's pretty convoluted there, Christopher."

Bruiser weighed in as well. "There is some irony to that... he used the pseudonym 'Rook' to reference a piece in chess, but now he IS a 'Rook'-- another member of the Corvid family, like a crow or raven."

The oddity of the evening obviously weight heavily on everyone as the discussion went all over the place, but Merc tried to pull it back into a usable direction. "So you AREN'T the Chessmaster, Cy?"

The Raven shook his head. "No."

Merc raised a scaled eye ridge. "Well... what can you tell us about the Chessmaster then?"

Christopher's feathers deflated as he looked down at the ground. "Nothing, to be honest. I can tell you all about myself because that's my decision, but I'm not about to share someone else's secrets without their permission."

Demon, when he was most frustrated, tended to pull on his left ear; in Merc's assessment the thing was about to get yanked off. "I'm not a fan of people we're supposed to be trusting holding secrets from us..."

Bruiser elbowed the Dog. "Everyone has a few, Demon... or did you forget the whole Torpedo thing already?"

Rather than object further Demon simply grunted. "Point taken."

Merc tried to find a middle ground to keep things civil. "It's alright... You'll tell us in time, right Cy?"

The Raven offered an emphatic nod. "As soon as the Chessmaster says it's alright, yes. I'm sure it won't take too long for all of you to be taken into confidence... you're really great guys."

The candid, casual way Christopher tossed the praise into the conversation gave Merc a warm, fuzzy feeling. Smiling, he looked to Demon. "See? Personally, I respect the fact that Cy understands the importance of confidentiality."

The Pit bull grunted again. "Okay... so what happens until then? How are we supposed to trust someone who keeps secrets?"

Bruiser simply mentioned one word. "Torpedo?"

Demon started yanking on his ear again. "You're gonna hold that over me for forever or something, fish face? You two asked and I told ya! Plus, it wasn't like that was anything important."

The Orca reached up and patted the Dog on his head. "A secret is a secret, Demon. Like I said: everyone has a few secrets. Being up front, open, and honest about it helps. He told us that he knows who it is, and that he's worked with the Chessmaster, so he's not keeping THAT secret, but he's not about to unmask someone. Isn't that the proper creed for Legendaries and Metamorphs?"

It was indeed an unspoken rule-- more like a professional courtesy. Legendaries and Metamorphs didn't pry into one another's personal lives outside of work (not that Legendaries weren't completely open with their identities in most cases). That brought up an interesting question in Merc's mind. "We haven't specifically identified whether or not Chessmaster IS even a Metamorph."

Everyone looked to Christopher, who simply fluffed up his wings and remained silent on the matter. Demon scowled. "You know... the three of US are okay trusting one another to keep secrets because we're a TEAM."

Merc smirked, taking the statement in a direction other than the one he knew the Dog meant. "Oh... so you think Christopher should join us?"

Before Demon could even respond, Christopher's fur puffed up to almost double size. "ME? In a METAMORPH team? I-- I'm not so sure about that."

Until that statement Merc had seen Bruiser's body language hinting at great reluctance to the Kangacobra's jest but, ever-the-encouraging caretaker, once he saw the hesitance in the Raven, the Orca's demeanor changed immediately. "Why not? Everyone starts somewhere, Christopher, and, in Merc's Metamorphs you'd be among people who already know your Human identity so you'd be safe and supported."

Hearing the statement out of Bruiser, Merc suddenly felt much less like his suggestion was a jest than an actual invitation and his heartbeat began to pick up with excitement. "Why not? You already have a Metamorph name and everything!"

If Cy could have blushed, Merc was sure the bird would have done so. "Rook? That is entirely a coincidence. Besides, I have only just taken on this shape... it is a little premature for any discussion of the sort. Regardless, I am flattered that you would even consider it... Demon is right, though-- you're jumping the gun to trust me so ardently at this point."

Bruiser, as usual, managed to remain level-headed. "Maybe it IS a little early, but sometimes it's worth jumping in with both feet. Either way, there's still time for that... no pressure even. Maybe we all take a deep breath, realize that there's plenty of time to consider things, and just relax a little. No rush... right?"

Christopher's feathers puffed up anew. "No pressure in a sense, I suppose... but, if you both change when Merc does, would it not be fair to assume that the same would happen to me as well? What happens the next time the three of you go on a mission?"

Demon was practical. "Yep. That'd be a problem, alright. Maybe we just give you a heads up before we do anything to give you a chance to get somewhere more convenient than out in public?"

The Raven looked as though he wanted to scowl but his beak lacked the flexibility. "Unfortunately I do not live alone, and this is not something feel reasonably comfortable sharing with anyone outside this room."

Although there was obviously no point in Cy hiding his status as a Metamorph from them, the statement of default trust still somehow managed to make Merc feel an inner warmth and the emotional high led him to his decision. "You already know your way here... wouldn't be a big deal to get you a key so you can hang out here while we're in the field."

The Bird squawked in surprise. "Here?"

The Kangacobra nodded. "I mean... it's safe, and you know what to expect... good amount of space. You guys don't mind do you?"

Bruiser and Demon glanced to one another and back to Merc. Demon spoke first. "So long as he doesn't mess with anything in my room or eat any food without permission."

Merc smirked at how mundane the limiting factors were. "Seems fair... what do you think, Christopher?"

Cy's feathers fluffed out. "I hate to be an imposition... it feels like I'm not contributing and I--"

Bruiser brought up another thought. "Hey, Demon-- you always said that, as a computer major you should be considered for 'the guy in the chair' position... well... we have another computer major right here!"

The Raven cocked his head to the side. "The... 'guy in the chair'?"

Merc clarified. "It's a comic book role-- someone who is part of a hero group or provides support to a hero without being in the field. You know: the one who is back at base providing support to those in the field."

Christopher seemed to mull over the prospect for a few moments before responding. "That's something a Human could do, right? I wouldn't be wasted on a position like that?"

Demon stood up straighter, paws on his hips as he flashed a huge grin. "Wow... that point of view changed quick. Here we were talking about you not being sure about joining up and now you're already saying you want to be part of the team as a full on Metamorph?"

The Bird folded his wings sheepishly around himself in response. "I just mean that I like to carry my own weight. If you guys are letting me stay here while you're away doing Metamorph things then either I can do some housekeeping, or I can try and be REALLY useful and... to be honest, I HATE house cleaning."

The mundane statement was what it took to breath the tenseness of the situation and, before long, all four of them had given over to a hearty round of laughter. In the end, Merc and Christopher ended up seated on the sofa, Demon was lounging in the recliner, and Bruiser was situated on the floor, flopped on his side. It was the Orca who brought up the next thought. "You know... usually 'the guy in the chair' is usually at the computer because they can't do field work... that's why it's almost always a Human."

Merc realized immediately what Bruiser was getting at. "We don't even know what powers Cy has."

Demon grinned toothily. "Christopher doesn't have any powers... ROOK has powers."

The Merc exchanged glances with the Bird and then both looked at the Dog. The Raven was the first to speak. "That... is a very good point. If I'm a Metamorph now, whether or not I get involved in contracts I suppose I need to keep my Human identity a secret... for safety's sake, normalcy, etcetera."

The Pitbull cocked his head to the side. "Did he just actually SAY 'etcetera'? Isn't that something you just include when you're writing a--"

Bruiser pushed forward to keep the discussion on track. "Makes no difference."

Demon was still distracted by Rook's verbiage. "No... I mean it. Who actually SAYS 'etcetera'? He probably even knows how to spell it and not just abbreviate it E-T-C like most folks would do."

Rook was a little more on-the-ball. "If I have powers, I would think it would make a difference as to whether or not I end up sitting here rather than being out with you guys."

Merc realized what Bruiser was getting at. "No... he's right, Cy-- uh... Rook. The kind of stuff that happens in the field isn't very forgiving and, even if you do have some impressive powers it'd be best for you to work your way up to field work."

Demon toed the line, joining in on the topic they were having rather than the discussion on words he'd been obsessed with. "Kinda like police academy... doesn't matter how good a cadet you are, until you graduate they're not gonna put you in a cruiser and send you out to write tickets."

Rook's feathers puffed up again. "Good analogy."

The Pit bull was all smiles. "Thanks. Came up with it myself."

Merc reeled in things again; if ever he was the one helping to guide dialogue in the relationships, it was when Demon (and, just as often, Chance) went out into left field on tangents. "Well... seeing as we have a least another hour and a half in these forms, what do you guys think about trying to figure out Rook's powers?"

If it were possible for a raven to get a deer-in-headlights look, Rook was certainly performing it. "Now? As in, 'right now'?"

Bruiser slid his tail across the floor as he sat up. "No time like the present. It's easier to manifest powers spontaneously anyway."

Demon's tail began to thwap against the armrest of the recliner. "You know... LOTS of people'll be asking questions if a wall explodes. How do we know that Rook doesn't have pyrokenesis or something?"

Rook's eyes widened. "The last Metamorph documented with pryokenesis blew herself up back in the early 2000s!"

The Dog winked. "All the more reason to start practicing! The sooner you start the less likely you'll do something like that."

Merc scowled. "Not helping, Demon."

Bruiser immediately stepped in to help provide guidance. "When I first learned my ability it was by accident. First came feeling out the presence of those around me. That one happened almost right away."

Demon piped in. "He and I just went through our first change here in the dorm and we both freaked. I asked if anybody heard, and this guy was able to tell right away that both dorms on either side of us were empty at the time."

The Orca nodded. "Yeah... I could sense peoples' minds. That's also how I knew that the people beneath us heard the thump of the heavy guy here--" he thumbed in Demon's direction "he fell out of his chair."

The Dog objected immediately "Hey! I was sitting on my tail and it hurt like hell! Gotta warn a guy before you make him a Pit bull."

Merc smirked. "It was a very crazy night, yeah... and, if I remember, Bruiser also picked up on his ability to broadcast his thoughts at the same time-- I told everyone to pipe down and, instead of whispering, he started talking to us in our heads."

Demon grinned. "Talk about awkward."

The Orca stuck his enormous tongue out "For EVERYONE included, thank you very much. It took awhile for me to be able to control what information I was getting and receiving."

The Dog's smile took up his whole muzzle "But, fuck-- it was WILD when we were going at it and you started sharing sensations."

Bruiser reddened slightly, rolling his eyes. "You already KNEW that Merc gives amazing head, Demon."

Tongue flopping out the side of his muzzle, the Pit bull nodded. "Yep! And we all know for sure that you know it too!"

The Orcs folded his arms across his chest. "You make it sound like I'm some kind of exhibitionist, or that we were in some kind of Metamorph porn plot."

Frank and his boyfriends had no shortage of knowledge about Metamorph porn; it was a very niche market but had an incredibly strong fan base. They'd been approached more than once to perform but, despite the three of them having a very health sex life they had never been so inclined as to--

All of the Kangacobra's thoughts dribbled out of his ear the moment the television turned on, revealing a mid-twenty-something twink begin ridden by a large-boned rhino Metamorph woman. The volume on the TV wasn't set particularly high, but there was plenty of noise coming from it, especially the sloppy slurping sounds of her large, puffy opening as the camera man got some very up-close shots of it as the Metamorph spoke in a deep-but-still feminine tone. "Oh yeah, sexy... I'm gonna crush you, and you'll LOVE it."

Demon threw a pillow at Bruiser. "Dude! What the fuck?"

The Orca indignantly threw it back. "It wasn't me! The remote's near you!"

Merc was a little more laid back about it. "Damn... I bet I could fit both my cocks in that pussy."

Bruiser followed up with throwing the same pillow (it had bounced off of Demon's muzzle) at Merc. "You're SO bi... and no, I don't have the remote-- it's next to you, Merc."

The Kangacobra glanced down at the table beside the sofa. "I didn't touch it."

He paused when he felt Rook shiver next to him. "I... I think that was me."

Merc looked to the Raven, then back to the remote. "Not from where you're sitting you didn't... I'm between you and the--"

He stopped talking when Rook blinked and the television went off. Demon was the first to pick up on what was happening. "He has telekenesis! He can move stuff with his mind!"

Bruiser quickly squashed that idea. "The television is digital. There's no knob to turn or switch to flip."

Demon didn't relent. "He mighta pushed the button around back with his brain."

The Orca objected again. "All studies of telekenesis with Metamorphs suggest that they have to be able to see what they're manipulating, so if he couldn't see the--"

Everyone went silent when Merc's cell went off. The Kangacobra quickly reached over and picked it up; they'd been so distracted by Christopher's presence that he hadn't returned it to where he usually stored it by his bed. Pausing, Merc opened it up and saw that there was no label on the caller ID. Looking to his companions with a shrug, he accepted the call. "Yeah?"

Although Rook was seated right next to him without any kind of mobile device, Merc clearly heard the Raven's voice in the receiver. "I think I can control technology."

It turned out to be Rook's first power. Pretty significant on its own, there was still one more to discover... and it turned out to be no less impressive.