A Puppy At My Heels (Alistair)

[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

Though the battle would be rough, Alistair knew neither of them could give up. Had he just gone too fast? Maybe something like the do's and don't's of basic human behavior would be more fitting. Not everyone would enjoy Artie kisses, right? He'd most likely learn soon enough. Though the two now looked disheveled, Alistair knew he could try again some other time. With a faint smile, Alistair cheered up. "Now do not say that. I have simply underestimated the difficulty of certain tasks... Perhaps I can teach you the proper way to greet someone... I must also have a book in my office for this sort of scenario..." Alistair's personal library not only granted him an exclusive selection to books on sciences and mathematics, but to etiquette and self awareness as well. Hell, even a few of his staff members have given him books to guide him to greater self esteem. One of them in fact gave him a book called '100 Ways to Stop Yourself from Being An Eternally Lonely Shut in".

It is presumed that he had found work elsewhere.


He blushed with the sudden warmth of the embrace, dipping his head down to prevent Artie from seeing his flustered natural glare. Despite his insistence for himself to become more human, Alistair thought Artie could find a safe medium between human and chimera. The ringmaster himself quite liked this sort of interaction; he wasn't quite used to friendly touch. In fact, he was almost quite tempted to nuzzle Artie back. Ultimately, he decided against it. "Of course you may." He whispered to his request. The eternal chill returned once Artie latched off of him, an almost physical shiver rocking his system. Why hadn't anybody shown him this sort of care before? To feel personally wanted, allied with? It was wonderful.

Alistair stood up with umbrella kept in a silk-gloved hand. He dusted himself off before gesturing Artie to rise. "Come then." He picked up the plate with his free hand after scooting in his chair. "You may have them all... I do not get hungry the same way you do." That was good news for Artie, correct? He could have all the snacks he wanted to with a fireside to get cozy with. Maybe everything would work out for the both of them. That was Alistair's intention.

Alistair proceeded towards the door, where the guards cleared the way to make room for the both of them. "Do you have any requests on something you are willing to learn next? Perhaps I can show you a book and you can pick out something you like... While being relatively easy, of course".

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[ARTISAN KIM]

“Really?!” he yawned, scrubbing his eyes to keep awake, “I won't eat the chocolate cheesecake ones though, since you like those.” Not only had Artie been paying close attention to Alistair throughout the lesson, but he was willing to share? Selflessness wasn't exactly Artie's strong suit, especially when it came to food. He must have liked Alistair a lot, to offer him such a thing.

“Slow down, will ya? You're going too fast!” he whined. By the time they made it at the end of the stairs, Alistair had a drowsy puppy toddling at his heels. The chimera had been carefully designed to function in a specific way, much like how domestic dogs were bred for certain qualities. Commands and the sense of touch spiked his brain's dopamine levels, thus boosting his puppy-like sense of reward. The consumption of food, however, elevated his serotonin levels to leave him content and lethargic as an old dog. Considering he'd eaten breakfast awhile ago, it made sense that the effects were kicking in then. It usually took an hour or two after a meal for the carbohydrates to work through his system, affecting him more drastically than a human; a human wouldn't be stumbling after Alistair with a yawn, his eyes half-closed and a sleepy smile on his face. Even if he memorized every rule of etiquette in Alistair's books, there would always be certain quirks that Artie couldn't help. The way his body and brain physically reacted to different situations was only part of the challenge in learning how to behave human.

“Learning how to greet someone sounds like fun,” he yawned, “But what's wrong with the way I do it? I mean, I never see anybody else nuzzling or licking or kissing...but I think it's really weird that people are so shy about love.” There were things that Artie was shy about, but showing affection wasn't one of them. “I'm only shy with Lilly but...um, she's different.”

Artie blushed, now realizing he'd revealed a little more than he'd meant to. It was no secret that he was crazy over Lilly, but the chimera found himself embarrassed when talking about his feelings for her. He could kiss, lick, and hug complete strangers just fine, but he couldn't talk to Alistair about his girlfriend. Artie would've mulled over the subject some more, but he was too groggy to put forth the energy. With his bleary blinking and stifled yawns, he resembled a young child more than he'd like to admit.

However, his next question was more age appropriate: “Can you teach me how to impress girls?”

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

"Artie, I only eat human food at social gatherings. Please, do not be afraid to help yourself."Alistair had led Artie back into the edifice, the marble halls glowing in candlelight. The whole mansion seemed to be tailored to the ringmaster. Well, at least the last two floors were. He seldom left these areas, as they were what he pretty much knew. This, the big top, the train, and whatever region he ended up in for a performance. Everything else was foreign. Why would it not be? It wasn't like anyone here was really interested in speaking with the ringmaster. Not to mention his presence left something to be desired. Knowing this Alistair had agreed to himself from an early age that his sole purpose in life was to run the circus. No friends, no fun, no rest and no love. That was his destiny. He knew this.

The thoughts had quieted him a bit, though he chipped back up upon re-entering his office. He noticed Artie trail behind him in a doglike fashion. In all honesty Alistair didn't mind in the slightest that he acted like a puppy. He truly desired to fulfill the chimera's wish to become more human, but Alistair couldn't help but to feel that Artie was fine the way he was. His friends accepted him. The 'family' hadn't been the nicest, but surely Alistair could do something to correct that, right? His unsettling and blank eyes looked away to hide the fact that he was once more internally blushing. The chimera's smile was certainly contagious.

Now, by the condition of Artie Alistair knew that the lesson would certainly have to hold off. He was much too tired. The question did go answered however, the response something the master didn't entirely agree with. "Humans can be rather sensitive in their mannerisms... Generally there is a certain code for conformity within social interaction. I am not sure about how others my age perform such tasks such as 'high-fiving'... Though if you observe others in places such as the dining hall, you may find your answer." He approached his throne of sorts and sat down daintily, holding back a grimace at the new files one of his associated had piled upon his desk. That would be another seven hours or so just by the appearance of it. "I for one enjoy your greetings... Though if you are to become more like a man, you must learn another way." At the sound of love, Alistair nearly jumped. The mere mention of the word sent shivers down his spine. To a degree, it irked him. How can others feel it when he himself did not know what it was? Of course, the daunting ideal also had fascinated him. The sudden change of tone in Artie's voice indicated the surge of this feeling for... Lilly, now who was she again....? Ah! The knife-thrower. She had an impeccable ability. Had she fallen in love with Artie? Did Artie have a 'girlfriend'? Alistair would have nearly jumped out of his skin to ask questions regarding her, though he was quickly countered with one.

And judging by the sudden snap of his demeanor, it seemed that it had truly put him under some distress.

"G-girls? Oh... Oh..." It was odd, really. His facial expression was still a creepy blank, but sudden twitching had coursed his body. "I...I..." How was he going to answer this?! Tell the boy he had never once had a non-professional encounter with a member of the opposite gender? He would laugh! "Artie...? I do not know... I-I..." The sudden question seemed to strike an epiphany inside of Alistair. He really came to terms with how sad his position was. The man was twenty three, and he hadn't once had a girlfriend. He hung his head in defeat. "I have not the slightest idea, forgive me."

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[ARTISAN KIM]

“You mean, you don't know how to treat a lady?” he yawned, “Don't you have a book on impressing girls around here?” The chimera scanned the office's dusty shelves for a textbook or manual on the subject, but found nothing. “Oh, you don't know what a high-five is either? Lilly says it's a way to celebrate being happy. Like if we played a game and we won, then Lilly and I would high-five.” He shrugged and pushed out his lower lip in a cute, childish fashion. “I don't really get it either, but Lilly's better at explaining it than I am.”

Lilly this. Lilly that. Lilly. Lilly. Lilly.

Artie's world revolved around a close network of people, and Lilly was the center of his universe. He had an innocent, pure love for the gifted girl; she was his best friend, his girlfriend, and his hero all in one. A shining, magical light twinkled in his hazel eyes at the mere mention of her name. Was it puppy love? True love? Only time would tell.

The chimera almost lost himself in a bout of love-struck daydreams, but he finally noticed the odd spasms his master had. Why was he twitching? Was he in danger? Was master in danger?! “M-MASTER!” he shouted, “ARE YOU OKAY?!” Artie flung himself at Alistair, giving the stuffy ringmaster the tackle-hug of a lifetime. “Is it the work? I can do your paperwork!” he said. He nuzzled Alistair with vigor, as if their lives depended on it. “Are you tired? Quick, let's sit by the fire until you feel better!”

In seconds, Artie was dragging Alistair by the sleeves of his coat. The dragging didn't stop until they were in front of the fireplace, and Artie settled down with a soft thud. He wriggled in place, threw a few worried glances in Alistair's direction, and stretched his legs until he was comfortable. “My worry list is pretty big already without you being sick, master. Like just yesterday, I was worried about...”

Artie hesitated briefly, but the sheer panic over Alistair's safety fueled his motor-mouth. It was all too easy to get Artie excitable over something, even if it was nervous and panic-ridden excitement. “I didn't want to tell anyone, but ever since I hurt PJ...” he said, “Um, weird stuff has been happening. Like just yesterday, I forgot how to speak. I couldn't understand a single word anyone was saying.”

Well, this was new information. His mind had gone blank in the moments he'd attacked PJ, but it'd been a rage fueled instinct. And while his instincts were prominent in everyday life, sometimes excessively so, they'd never completely wiped out his memory. “I'm glad nobody talked to me then, 'cause I think I would've attacked them. I didn't know what was happening or even who I was, but I knew I was scared.”

The incident with PJ had stirred the chimera's inner beast, the one that had been resting dormant so complacently. The beastly part of his nature, the secret killer, was fighting to gain control of Artie's gentle heart. From data the circus gathered, Carter experienced similar power struggles between his savage side and human side. The figures indicated that there was a pattern in most with animal-related powers in which both halves of the person had difficulty synchronizing; one side wanted to overpower the other. But in Artie, the struggle had been powerful enough to wipe his mind blank. Even if it'd only been for a short period of time, around fifteen minutes or so, there was a lot of damage that could be done. It was just like a puppy to take everything to the extremes, wasn't it?

Of course, Artie hadn't a clue what was happening to him. But he felt...he felt like he'd done something wrong. Guilt swirled within Artie's chest. The chimera haphazardly scratched the area to make the feelings go away, but it wasn't doing him much use. He looked up to Alistair with pleading, begging eyes. Alistair would correct him, right? The ringmaster would know what to do, right? “I can't forget how to communicate, I just can't. How would I be able to talk to you? And Lilly? And Carter? And PJ? And...and...” he stammered, “Oh, my head hurts.”

With a defeated little whimper, he held his head in his hands. “There's too much to think about about,” he murmured, “Please don't get sick, master. There's not enough room on my worry list.”

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

What was he doing? He was acting like a child! Alistair shifted his crimson eyes up from the blankness that had reached his mind following his little incident. The more he remembered why he was so distressed, the more he got furious with himself for his immature reaction. Stammering? Feeling a sense of confusion? How unprofessional! And now look, he had made the chimera that he had nearly forgotten was in the room worried. In almost a whiplash the distraught expression on his face snapped back into its usual emotion-deprived state. He looked blankly off into the bottomless distance as he was unwillingly dragged by Artie from his seat. He sort of laid on the floor, his mind blank to his distressed calls. Only after a few seconds, following a brief mental scolding, did he once more fade back into reality.

The colorless man sat up in a slow manner with his emotionless eyes dead-set on Artie. "I am fine. I just... I just was astonished by your question."" He explained in a whisper, Artie's touch warming him up. When Artie began to look worried Alistair immediately took all attention off of himself. With composure regained officially, he scolded himself even more. How could he be so selfish?! "You... Forgot how to speak?" The question trickled out faintly, as if Alistair was scared to even voice the words. Artie's condition was more critical than he initially realized. This was truly a frightening idea to grasp. What did this say about the chimera's future? Could these occurrences of the stripping of his identity occur more often? Would he eventually lose who he was all together? This couldn't happen... No, this wouldn't happen. There had to be a way to prevent this.

"Shh..." Alistair whispered in a velvet-soft voice. His gloved hand delicately placed itself on Artie's shoulder with the hope that the touch would somehow comfort him. Other people did this, right? "I am sorry that has happened to you..." The words were a major understatement. Artie was losing a grip on himself, which was a feeling not foreign from Alistair. He was more than willing to help him but... Was there even a cure for this? "Artie, I..." He could not just admit to him that the mutation of his mentality was in all probability inevitable, right? Though it was programmed within his DNA, he could deter it with enough willpower... Hopefully.

"I am not sick... I was just frightened by your question. Please pardon my ridiculous behavior." The apology was laden by shame, though the ringmaster had tried his best not to make this audible. Quickly however this feeling of guilt had reverted back to the anxiety of the challenge stated previously. His crimson eyes traced down as the man had pressured himself to find a solution to Artie's problem. Thus far, his mind was drawing a blank. "Does anything happen to trigger these events? Or... Was this incident unpredictable?" Alistair asked gently, leaning in a bit closer. "I... No matter what happens, I promise to be here to support you. I cannot say whether or not you will completely succumb to your instincts, however..."

With a soft inhale through his nose, Alistair gently wrapped his arms around Artie's torso. He initially 'blushed' with the action, though his nerves quickly calmed themselves down. He squeezed snugly once before whispering "No matter what you become, you will always have a home here."

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[ARTISAN KIM]

There was no easy answer to the chimera's predicament. Artie understood that time was precious, that time would either make him a man or a beast. And while the future was uncertain, he still entrusted a portion of his precious time to Alistair. The daily visits wouldn't stop, nor would Artie abandon their odd friendship. More than ever, Artie would spend as much time around people as he could; there might be a day where his nose wouldn't be buried in a book, that he wouldn't satisfy his curiosity with endless questions, that he wouldn't understand what Lilly meant if she said that she loved him. If Alistair couldn't find a solution, the cheerful Artie everyone knew could blink out like a light.

-“Y-you don't know if we can do anything about it? Don't you know a way to stop it? Maybe you don't know about girls, but you know everything else! W-w-well, I-I was thinking about PJ in the afternoon, but nothing happened until dinner.” he said, “Everything...everything just slipped. I don't think anybody noticed me acting weird, since I'm pretty strange to them anyway.” Snuggling into the hug with a sigh, Artie presses his face against Alistar's shoulder. Silent tears left imprints on the ringmaster's shirt...but Artie wasn't sad, he was moved.

Alistair hugged him and attempted to comfort his friend, and Artie would never express how thankful he was for that. It took him awhile to gain control of himself, although his face remained firmly hidden in Alistair's suit. “Being here feels like a dream,” he murmured, “Any minute I'll...I'll wake up in my cell.” He thought about his cozy cell devoid of communication, devoid of life. He'd go back to being a forlorn little experiment, angry at a world he couldn't understand. -“But thank you for letting me stay here. Thank you for giving me the best dream of my life, Alistair.”-

Carefully, he pried his face from Alistair's now tear-stained suit. Artie kept his arms around Alistair in a tight hug, feeling his bodyheat transferring to Alistair's frigid self. Gentle eyes hastily searched the ringmaster's face, and full lips hesitated in speaking. But finally, Artie had the courage to say: “Can I ask you a favor? Even if it doesn't look like I understand, if I...if I forget everything, would you read to me?”

It never mattered to Artie whether he was reading Catcher in the Rye, a textbook about the artistic history of Lithuania, or a waterlogged book on cabinet making he'd pulled out of a garbage can. He loved reading. He loved learning. And he couldn't face a future where that love would be taken away from him. “Don't let me forget,” he begged, “Please...you have to help me. And if we try everything and nothing works...read to me. It's all I want.”

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

Uselessness. The feeling washed over Alistair as he realized his own statement. He couldn't do anything. In all chances Artie's oddity was taking its destined course. Artie was meant to be this way... That was why he was acting up now. Whatever those scientists had fused him with was coming out of remission, or at least that was what Alistair believed. Now, he hadn't the slightest clue as to how the chimera was made. Judging by the incident with PJ however it was clear why he was made- To be a monster. The methods used to make him lead him up to that sole purpose, right? But that did not mean anything to the Ringmaster. Even if they were new to each other in acquaintanceship, even if Artie was physically just another member of his large 'family', he already meant a great deal to him. Alistair did not know how Artie had come to be, or what his destiny in his creation was.

What he truly knew was the fact that he couldn't emotionally afford to lose his puppy.

When Artie leaned in on his shoulder Alistair warmed up his grip even more. The feeling of this sort of care was not something he was used to, but by god did he like it. His crimson eyes eased over to where his friend's head was, and noticed his years were sinking into his suit. Not just from a personal stance, but as the leader of the circus it hurt him to see his family upset... Especially if he had no idea how to help them. Though upon closer inspection, he didn't appear all that upset... Just... Alistair didn't even know the word for it. "Perhaps the solution is to be around those you care about... To treasure every moment with them... Whether it be Mistress Lillian, or Master Carter or Paxxton-Jay... I am sure they will all do their best to make you yourself... And, if you tell them what's going on, perhaps they'll find a way to make you better in a way I cannot." He knew himself that he wasn't exactly the guru for friendship. He was quite new to it himself. Of course, this new knowledge was growing to be quite pleasurable. With a faint smile of sorts, Alistair leaned his head slightly into Artie's. "I am... Happy you ended up here Artie. I would like to thank you... Thank you for being my friend." Alistair may not have the ability to understand the conflicts of all of his fellow oddities, or offer the best solution. What he could offer to Artie however was his ability within the circus to grant his heart's desires.

Fortunately for him, those seemed to not be so far fetched.

"R-read to you?" An odd request... But it only took Alistair a few seconds to understand it. Of course... Even if he lost himself, or forgot who he was, he needed a way to keep in touch with something that made him human. Didn't everybody? "Of course Artie." He had meant it. Alistair hadn't had this experience as a child. Did it feel as wonderful as it would have as an adult? It would be easy to find out. "I will read to you no matter the circumstances. You have my word." With a gentle motion a Alistair eased Artie off of his shoulders so that he could stand up and approach the bookshelf. What would he enjoy? A flick of his crimson eyes signified that, after scanning the elaborate shelves, he had found a book that he had personally enjoyed. Excitement almost bubbled in him, but the steel-shelled facade of his depreciation of emotion prevented him from conveying it. "Shall we start with this one?" In a few clicks of his expensive black dress shoes he returned to Artie with the novel. He leaned against the mantel of the fireplace in order to allow Artie to possibly slip in if he needed. "It is a first edition, therefore it it rather old and extremely fragile... Though I think you may enjoy it."

With a flip of his gloved hand, the cover of the book was revealed- The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald. With a nervous clearing of his throat, and the gentle opening of the dying book, Alistair began.

"In my younger years and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages you've had.'..."

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[ARTISAN KIM]

The picture dictionary was his new obsession. After reasoning that communication between the creator and created would aid future genetic programs, therefore allowing the scientists to understand exactly how their chimeras ticked, Artie was granted flashcards and visual reading aids so he could figure out the meaning behind his treasured words. From behind the one-way glass, the scientists observed as he sat cross-legged on the floor and hunched over the pages.

The creature lovingly pressed his palms against the pages, rubbed his fingers across the pictures, and closed his eyes as he squished his cheek against the book. He was on his favorite page...the page that talked about the most magical, fantastic things in the world.

Mother.
Father.
Brother.
Sister.

Together, they made “family”.

Suddenly, he looked up. He heard the hiss of stale, compressed air as the chamber leading to his cell was opened. His tail swished impatiently behind him as he strained his ears, trying to identify the soft echo of steps just outside his door. There was the beep of the security passcode, the clang of mechanical locks being released, and finally, the screech of the heavy door being pushed open. The young woman tiptoeing into the room looked like a doll herself, drowning in the frills and petticoats of an expensive dress. A blonde bob cut bounced cheerfully as she ran into the room, clutching an oversized handbag, and sat down next to Artie in a puff of cherry blossom perfume. Her pale blue gaze swept over the open pages of Artie's picture dictionary, but she thought nothing of it. The chimera loved to read, although she was forbidden to bring in any books not cleared by the department in charge of studying Artie's learning. Still, there were plenty of other gifts that she could spoil him with.

“I brought you all sorts of presents from my trip!” she said, “Look at this – isn't this pretty? It's called a snowglobe. Watch what happens when you shake it! Like magic, huh? You like magic.”
“Magic!” gasped Artie. He took the snowglobe from her, gave it a shake, and shrieked with delight as he made the snow fall.
“That's Big Ben," she said, pointing to the miniature structure within the globe.
“Who?”
“He's a big, big clock in London.”
“Lon...don?”
“That's where I went, silly! Don't you remember?"
“I go to lon...don?”
“Someday,” she said softly, tousling his hair, “You'll come with me to London someday.”
"China? And Afruuka? 'Stuurlia?"
"Yes, silly! We'll travel all over the world - China, Africa, Australia - I'll take you with me, just like I promised."

Bianca Roberts sometimes wondered whether it was wrong to let the chimera dream. But was it better to fill his head with flights of fancy, or tell him how he'd be euthanized like an animal in ten years? Bianca was torn from her thoughts as she felt a little hand close around her's, holding on carefully so the claws wouldn't puncture her skin.

Artie lead her to a wooden dollhouse in the corner of the room. He knelt in front of the table upon which the rickety dollhouse sat, and took two little dolls into his hands - a little boy, and a motherly woman. “Us," he said.

He made the little people eat breakfast together.
He made them watch TV together.
“No, Artie...” she said softly, “It can't be like that.”
He made the little people hug.
He made the little mom tuck the little boy into bed.
“Come here, Artie.”

In a rustle of fabric, Bianca sat down and scooped Artie into her lap. Artie took the doll people, now embraced in a hug, and held onto them tightly. He studied the toys with a smile, and wriggled as Bianca wrapped his torso into a snug, one-armed hug. Her other hand reached for the chimera's picture dictionary, and began flipping through the pages. She stopped on an illustration of a park, where a woman was walking a dog on the sidewalk. "Like this, Artie..." she said quietly, pointing to the picture, "Like this."

Artie hunched over the picture and sounded out the word, his warm breath tickling Bianca's hand. “P...pe...pet?” he whispered. He looked up, his hazel eyes wide and frightened. No! That wasn't right! He held up the little doll people, so that mama could understand him. Why didn't she see what he could see? “No! Family! See? See, Bianca? You mama!"

Wordlessly, Bianca broke apart the doll's hug.

He got up and placed the first doll, the mother, gingerly back into place. Then, he had the boy sit at the far edge of the table...all alone, outside the house.

“Better?”
Silence.
“Beast outside now.”
Silence.
“Mama happy?”

The only response he received was this hiss and clang of the cell door closing behind Bianca.


- - - - -

Artie woke up in a cold sweat. The first thing he did was start talking, half-expecting his tongue to stop working. As long as he knew the basics, he'd be okay. It wasn't like he could forget about his new life over night, right? “My name is Artie,” he said, “I'm a chimera."

He hopped out of bed, repeating little phrases to himself and double-checking to make sure he was walking properly. "I live at the circus," he said, "I like cake."

So far, everything seemed to be in working order. The chimera looked back to his bed, with its strewn sheets and chewed pillows, and whimpered. What if he had another dream like that, but couldn't switch back to the present upon waking up? Artie's first thought was to run to the girl's dorm and wake up Lilly, but he hadn't explained his...predicament yet. The only person he'd told about the frequent lapses in his memories was the Ringmaster himself.

It took him less than thirty seconds to snatch up his teddy bear, throw a blanket over his shoulder, and dash out of his bedroom.

Except for the guards and staff on the night-shift, there'd hardly be anybody awake at 3:37 A.M. So, Artie ran down the corridors as lightly as he could. It was thoughtful of him, considering how a few weeks ago he would've woken up the entire circus with shouting and obnoxious whimpering.

The guards standing at the foot of Alistair's office didn't bother Artie as he went in, lugging his bedtime belongings with him. For reasons unbeknownst to the staff, Artie was welcomed into Alistair's office as he pleased. Besides, the chimera would simply plow through their defenses otherwise.

"Master Alistair?" he whispered, "Are you here?" The office was totally deserted and left in the dark, all the candles that'd lit up their storytime with Gatsby were now blown out. In fact, the office had an eerie quality in the dark...like ghosts lived there. Or monsters.

Artie investigated the office for a sign of Alistair, but found none. He hadn't left too long ago, judging by the fresh scent trail around his desk. Artie could smell that the ink he used for his signatures was poignant as well, indicating that the Ringmaster had to have been doing office work recently. He couldn't be too far!

The chimera sniffed around the office, but grew frustrated as his master's trail stopped at a dead-end; the bookshelf. Artie continued turning the office upside down in his search for Alistair, but came up with nothing. The only trail lead to the bookshelf and that --

Wait, was that a hole in the wall? Curiously, Artie walked up to the shelf and noticed that there was a slim opening - a mere crack - to its side. "Master?" he whispered. He leaned against the side of the bookshelf, but to his amazement, the antiquated furniture slid to the side. Now, Artie was staring at a secret compartment...leading nowhere other than his master's bedroom!

Artie waited for his eyes to adjust to the total darkness of Alistair's chambers. "Master?" he whispered, "Are you awake?" He tiptoed into the bedroom and whispered for Alistair once more: "Maaaaaster?"

He climbed onto the foot of the bed, dove under the heavy covers, and crawled his way up to Alistair. The covers were freezing against his skin, but gradually warmed up from Artie's body heat. He whimpered once, a pitiful sound muffled by the covers, and curled up against Alistair.

Lilly was used to it.
Carter was used to it.
Why wouldn't Alistair be used to a bedroom invasion?
Well, besides the fact this was the first time it happened to him.

In a hypnotic, metronome-like rhythm, his tail thudded lightly against the mattress. His foot twitched in restlessness at first, but that stopped before it became too noisy. Finally, a squeaky, yapping puppy-yawn echoed from underneath the covers as Artie closed his eyes.

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

"I will give you three seconds to come out from hiding."

A small twitch reverberated under black silk sheets.

Curled up into the nook of the office's stern oak desk was a figure, appearance suggesting that it couldn't have been a few months past four years of age. The young boy, dressed in sleek dress pants and a vest more suited for a man five times his age, trembled like a leaf. He was in big trouble. That day was not the day to have gotten caught.

The few breaths that rose from a lightly slumbering figure had begun to increase in swiftness.

"Alistair. Get out here. Now."

Why this again...

The boy suddenly looked up from his fetal position. His features appeared to be slowly mutated, withering from promising youth to ghastly unholiness. His once peachy colored skin was loosing melanin. His hands, cheeks, feet and shoulders appeared to be bleaching itself into an unnatural snow white. The curls of honey-like gold that formerly encased his head began to rot away from vitality, patches of it pale grey along with that same featureless white. The final feature that seemed to join in on this gradual metamorphosis was his eyes, one a happy peridot while the other a deepening crimson. No doubt the boy would become a complete alien by the time he was five years old. "D-daddy?"

The monster needed to assert its mastership again.

The father rounded the corner of the desk in a slight stumble. The stench of whiskey and tobacco encased his polished suit and alabaster skin that was doomed to one day belong to his son. His own bloody eyes appeared to be disheveled yet firmly bitter, as if some sort of general intense hatred eternally stormed within him. In a klutzy motion the man of immense power stumbled to his knees to still tower over the weak child. "You told 'em... You told 'em what I was."

No. Not this.

The boy looked up in absolute terror, the wrinkling of his nose indicating the acknowledgement of what time it was. Daddy got scary once every month. Daddy said nasty things once every month. Daddy drank poison only meant for adults once every month. Daddy hurt Alistair once every month. Daddy made Alistair cry. Daddy would run far away. Daddy would never say goodbye. Daddy would come back covered in blood. Daddy was a bad man. But daddy couldn't help it. Daddy was the boogeyman. "I-I only told a few boys and girls at the schoolhouse... They were worried daddy, they were scared!"

It only got worse. It only ever did.

A flicker of ice glinted across his stare, a fact that made little Alistair quiver instantly. The heartlessness possessing his entity was contradicted by a drunken chuckle, malice teetering on its apparent surface. "Of course they were, son... Of course they were..." Slowly, the father's hands drew up onto Alistair's torso, where he had picked him up in an eerily gentle manner and placed him delicately on the table. His hands traced up to his shoulders. "Son, I know you know what I am by now. But it is Daddy's little secret, correct? You were not supposed to be at the schoolhouse anyway. You belong in this room, understand?" Fingers traced up to comb through the small child's aging curly hair, much like how one would pet a dog. "Just look at you, Ali... You are becoming more and more like a Pyrewick everyday. Soon enough you'll be doing Daddy's work... It's a bit of a pain in the ass at first, but after awhile it's not terrible... You may not think so now, but it's a little rewarding to dismember humans limb from limb... Ah, don't give me that face! You're not a human yourself!" An unstable laugh escaped from him, which eventually led to intoxicated guffaws. "You'll be juuuust like me!" Before Alistair even had a chance to ask a 'Daddy, what's happening to me?' he was slapped in the face with bitter reality. No... This couldn't be... He was wrong!

Those six words. Those words robbed him of his innocence.

"I will never be like you!"

The figure under the covers shivered.

The father's false bliss quickly shattered when his face snapped into astonished hatred. What did he say? The laughter died away as his hands slid up from his son's shoulders to being loosely wrapped around his neck. His left thumb began to massage his jugular as if to threaten to burst through it. "Oh no. Oh nonono you'll be exactly like me..." His hands tightened. Alistair squirmed. "Son, you're a dime a dozen. Your purpose in life is to lead this circus after I'm gone and to take this goddamn curse away from me. I could kill you right now and have another child, raise him just like I did with you.... You'll be replaced son. That's because you're a monster. And that's all you'll ever be."

Tears began to escape the sleeping figure.

The small child began to cry.

Everything was true. It still was.

In a whip lash a critical smack was laid across the child's face. Before he could scream even more, a "STOP CRYING!" was commanded in a bone-chilling exclamation. The hands once more tightened around the child's neck, in greater severity than it had previously. The son fell into silence as his father leaned in with a shaky breath. The next few words were delivered as a whisper. "Alistair, when I die my curse will instantly pass on to you. This... This thing will share its body with you like a parasite. You cannot prevent it, you cannot avoid it. It will be apart of you for the rest of your life. You're a boogeyman, do you know what that means? Oh, I've told you a thousand times before, but let's face it you're not exactly the brightest of children. You transform once a month. You get really hungry. Do you know what you get hungry for? Hm? You get hungry for fear. That's right! You will have the instinct to terrorize entire villages of people. If their screams are not enough for you, you will simply massacre them all. You understand? Men, women, even boys and girls just like you- Especially them, they're the tastiest- they'll be reduced to nothing. Do you want to know the best part? Hm? Well, you'll never be satisfied. Not ever." The two-faced emotion flipped once more as the drunkard leaned in to kiss his son's forehead. A small smile once more appeared on his face. "You'll be Daddy's little monster and this circus's master. Hm, hopefully you don't end up hurting your family, because if you do..." The father's eyes widened as if he were suddenly caught within a trance. As if his brain had suddenly shut off, he turned towards the curtains to face the darkened moon. Oh no. He hadn't escaped the circus in time. A grin began to spread across his face, his once square teeth shifting into razor-like points while his mouth's corners tore vertically across his face. Slowly, he turned back to his son. "Oh, what the hell.... You're old enough to see exactly who you really are..."

_________

Alongside the growls of discontent that arose from his stomach, the recurring nightmare was enough to wake him up with a startle. Alistair sat up in less than a second, his disheveled suit still on him. The pounding heart in his chest joined with the rapidly expanding and collapsing lungs that demonstrated his sudden fright. Looking around the room, Alistair saw that his dream was fortunately still within the past. Nearly twenty years have passed since that day... Never more did it seem more potent than on nights prior to his transformation. The new moon was... Tonight... Oh god.

Before Alistair could get up to nervously check the calendar he felt pangs of starvation strike him once more. Sweat began to bead upon his forehead in the fervor of anxiety that was building up within him. He needed to lock up his valuables. He needed to bar the doors. He needed to practice his breathing to suppress the monster from bursting through.

The last thing he needed was any sort of human interaction.

Of course, Alistair's prayers were not answered. As he put his trembling right hand down, he felt the skull of another human-like creature. In an uncharacteristic instinct, a most godawful low-growl emitted itself from the corner's of the usually refined man's mouth. Truly, the monster was taking over without him having to transform. Alistair was too shaken up to distinguish the identity of the person invading his bed. Naturally, he was pissed.

"Get the hell out of my bed before I tear you to pieces!" The man hissed, his elegant exterior shattering with the statement. His blank expression became an inhuman snarl, the corner of his mouth turned up to reveal unthreatening human teeth. "Move, God damn it!"

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[ARTISAN KIM]

The bundle of blankets fell to the floor with a crash. An agonizing sting shot up the chimera's spine, stunning him temporarily as his tailbone absorbed the impact. The poor creature cried out in pain and struggled to untangle himself, only managing to free his head and left foot in his panic. Artie's expression was comical at first; his mouth was agape, his tawny hair was mussed up in a typical bedhead, and his hazel eyes were widened in shock. All he could hear was the heart-shattering, painful words coming from Alistair's mouth; all he could hear were the threats.

Then, the light in his eyes died. The chimera was consumed by its instincts and thrust into the dark place of his mind, where nothing existed beyond subservience and hatred. Artie flung himself back onto the bed, instantly pinning down his prey so that it couldn't escape. His chest heaved as he breathed rapidly, his body transforming as it saw fit.

The first thing to go was Artie's fluffy, brown wolf tail. In its place twitched a slender, rat-like string of cartilage with a scorpion's stinger at the end. The pointed tip prodded Alistair's throat, but never applied enough pressure to pierce it. Nor did the appendage produce any poison, which was a sign that human Artie had some control from the backseat of his subconscious – it was a sign that this demonic succubus hadn't completely eclipsed the boy's mind.

However, the tiny bit of willpower Artie had left wouldn't save Alistair from witnessing the chimera's horrific transformation. The creature's mouth widened, the skin on his cheek and lips pulling back until his freakish smile was all gums. Rows upon rows of shark teeth were unsheathed, mixed in with incisors and fangs of the Earth's most deadliest animals. Artie's eyes went inverse like a rodent's; the whites of his eyes became pitch black, and the irises a milky white. Bones cracked as his knees bent into a more quadruped shape, muscles thickened where need-be in order to support his redesigned body, and the claws of his fingers doubled in length.

But the worst change of all, were the unhappy tears streaming down his cheeks.

“To pieces?” he whispered. Their faces were close; the beast's hot breath trailed down the vital regions of Alistair's neck. His cold, razor-blade teeth pressed themselves against the Ringmaster's jugular like cookie-cutters ready to bite through his flesh. But, Artie never did bite.

With a grunt he shirked away, clumsily reaching for the bear that'd been left by Alistair's side. This monstrous beast, with all its deadly power...wasn't even sure of its own body movements. He stumbled to the edge of the mattress with an unsteady crawl, crouched at the edge, and stared at the floor like a housecat would before pouncing.

From behind, one could watch the odd tail transformed back into Artie's typical poof of brown fluff. He sat there, at the edge of the bed, suddenly perplexed as to how he could get back to the floor. During this time, the physical transformation reversed itself until Artie appeared to be his usual self. One arm pawed at the space over the floor, but found no step or stair to help him. He peered over the edge to investigate, but lost his balance by accidentally leaning too far. Arms flailed as he fell to the floor with a crash, landing on his back once more. As painful as this was to his spine, he was given the chance to peer directly into Alistair's eyes. The look of rejection, humiliation, and hurt in Artie's eyes would've made keeping eye-contact painful. “Better?” he asked softly, “Master happy?”

Without another word, Artie pulled the covers over his head and curled up on the floor. That's what Alistair wanted, right? He caressed the teddy bear in his arms, never having felt more unwanted in his entire life. This was his master – the master that had promised to read to him, to give him a home, to teach him how to be human! How could his master threaten to kill him?

The blankets muffled his cries.

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

The moments following the threat were filled with intense heaves of his tense shoulders. His scowl gradually melted into his default emotionless facial expression, all traces of previous rage gone. Bloodshot eyes scanned the room as they adjusted to the faint candlelight to search for the intruder. This, however, wasn't as necessary as it would have been the day prior; as Alistair's senses had become heightened due to his impending monster. He lifted his nose to the air. It smelled like puppy. Oh no.

With all traces of his outburst gone Alistair's eyes widened. Oh no... Did he... Did he hurt him? God, it was happening earlier than usual... Usually his monstrous behavior and reversal of his psyche occurred later in the afternoon but... Alistair's mind was way ahead of schedule. Whoever was in his way was going to suffer apparently, beginning with the poor chimera he had grown quickly fond of. "A-Artie?" The characteristic haunting whisper returned to Alistair to signify that he had temporarily took back over. Unfortunately, it looked like the damage was done.

Before Alistair could choke a pathetic apology he heard the sound of cracking bones and shifting skin. Though fear was not something Alistair truly felt, his anxiety had clearly started to build as he pulled his luxurious covers up to his chin. "A-Artie? What is ha-" Before Alistair could finish his question, he was pinned down by the monster lurking in the dark. By Artie.

Within milliseconds Alistair had come face-to-face with something that was absolutely not human. The creature seemed to overtake Artie's body and twist him into something hideous. Sounded familiar? That fact alone was enough to render Alistair's potential fear of him void, though it wasn't as if Alistair could feel it in the first place. Besides, the monster within him wouldn't allow Alistair to die without having an heir to receive the curse. The sudden aggression however had begun to trigger the monster within Alistair once more. With all willpower to prevent his neck from being slashed alongside the instinct to retaliate, the ringmaster found it difficult to reign in his personal emotions. His spine contorted in an agonizing arch through a muscle spasm; causing another inhuman cry of excruciation escape his body. The monster was putting him into torture to remind him to not neglect it again this month. Of course, his punishment had racked up on intensity. His mind took itself off of Artie as he slumped away giving him time to curl up and screech once more.

Following the bout of internal hell Alistair looked upon the floor where Artie had sunk. His now forlorn eyes watched in empathy as Artie's mutated body began to shrink back to its normal self to hide under a blanket.

What had he done....

Alistair proceeded to crawl over to Artie's body while stopping every few seconds to comfort with pain. Between rapid breaths Alistair broke out in small whimpers, both for his body's torture and his horrible deeds towards his only truly intimate friend. "Artie I please do not..." He was twitching much like a druggy during withdrawal. A few pained exhales following climaxed into another yelp, the release allowing him to proceed a bit more. How could Alistair even begin to apologize? He had shattered the boy's perception of him in all possibility. An abusive, frightening man that was not in control of his own emotions.

Really, Alistair was no better than his father.

He shivered with the thought.

"A-Artie," He began, "I cannot express how.... Oh... Sorry does not begin to even cover it..." Shakily, his torn-gloved hand reached to feel out Artie's shoulder under the blankets; a stroke suddenly occurring down the length of his arm to comfort him. The motion stopped abruptly as Alistair jolted with another chastening monstrous snarl. This time, foam was threatening to form at the corners of his mouth in a rapid fashion. He was losing his humanity fast. Arms wrapped around his own torso as he tried to control his breathing from breaking out into more animalistic cries. "It is happening Artie... T-tonight... T-tonight... I do- I do not want anyone to get hurt but..." His breathing once more turned into snarls. "I cannot help myself Artie... Please... I do not want you to see me like this... I am a monster Artie... This..." Soft shh's attempted to be comforting to the weeping chimera, though they were often broken up into beastly grunts. "This is not even at my ugliest so please... Leave if you do not want me- it -to hurt you more..."

A whimpering much like Artie's began to escape his trembling lips.

"Now you see... This is who I am..."

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[ARTISAN KIM]

Touch never failed to calm him down. A soothing rub to the shoulders was all that was needed to subdue the chimera's cries, and lull him into a false sense of security. The moment Alistair snarled, the chimera's heartbroken sobs were back. More powerful than fear were the waves of disappointment Artie felt; it was in his nature, like an actual dog, to put the blame on himself when master was upset. He would've wallowed in grief until dawn, but something Alistair said silenced his cries.

“Leave?” The chimera pealed back the covers and gaped at Alistair, unable to fathom the ringmaster's suggestion. He pulled back his fists and with a ferocious growl...tossed his teddy bear at Alistair's head. “Stupid master...”

The toy bounced harmlessly off Alistair's head, and the chimera crawled over to Alistair. He wrapped his arms around Alistair in a hug, and was quite used to the sensation of sharing body heat with a being that virtually had none. Artie rested his chin on Alistair's shoulder and yawned: “Big...dummy.”

Hadn't he already explained to master how once a chimera's love is given, it's unconditional? Even if his beast brain hadn't caught up to his human body just yet, he knew that much was true. How long would it take him to go back to normal anyway? He wouldn't...he wouldn't be stuck like this, would he?

Artie growled in frustration as he'd begin a word, only to stop half-way as he pronounced it wrong or forgot it's meaning. “Love...you,” he said, now hiding his face in Alistair's chest. Artie's heart was still in the right place – he hadn't changed completely. Beasts couldn't think. Beasts couldn't feel. Beasts couldn't love. Yet, Artie did all three.

“Artie...I stay,” he murmured, correcting himself with a shake of the head, “I feel...bad troubles for master.” Trouble? As in a problem? He felt like...a problem for Alistair? Even after the explanation and near-death experiences, he honestly thought that Alistair was angry with him for sneaking into his bed?

“Now, I sleep on floor,” he said, “Cheer up, okay?”

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

Despite Alistair's own haziness he could clearly see that Artie's own humanity was failing. Good. That made two of them. Alistair didn't mind much, as long as Artie was not completely losing himself. Even still, Alistair was receiving care despite Artie seeing his ugly side... Which was an action much bigger than Artie realized.

Despite the gripping pain within his stomach and the twitching of his contorted face, Alistair did find some comfort and being him. No telling when the temporary calm would break and he would reach for Artie's neck though. With the sudden hug Alistair blushed, though a faint comforted smile touched his expression. His strength had increased due to the transformation, which led the hug to seem more aggressive than was truly intended. The teddy bear thrown previously caused a frightening rumble of a chuckle to course through. Maybe... This was what he needed. A friend to brave the storm with him. Someone who really cared. In his five plus years of dealing with this curse, never before had he found a slight supplement to his cursed hell.

"I love you too, Artie..."

A soft growl rumbled in his throat as he nuzzled his fellow monster. The moment was sweet, but tragically short lived. The parasite within him was just so kind to once more make him remember the reason why he was acting so beastly. Alistair swiftly let go of Artie as he rolled onto his stomach; once there he curled up into a fetal position. He screeched, tears beginning to bubble at the corners of his eyes. With exhaustion Alistair slumped to his feet as he proceeded to stumble forward to the other room in order to lock the doors. It was coming. It was coming fast and it wasn't even time for it.

His mentality had already began to deteriorate clearly as he went from trying to walk like normal to crawling on all fours. The human part of his mind would have scolded him for his improper behavior, but of course there were bigger things on his dying mind. Faintly, his voice called out to Artie from the room behind him. "I-I love you... Artie... But please... Get out... Before I lock them..." He raised a shaky finger to the door, a begging look present in his crimson eyes. The statement would secure the chimera's safety, though it would not slow down the loss of sanity from the ringmaster. What would be the best decision? Whatever it was it had to be made quickly.

As Alistair neared the door, the sensation equivalent to a blunt object to the head split across his skull; which caused him to collapse to his knees with a screech. The Great Gatsby book that was present in a cozy moment a few hours before was beside his hands which were then clenched in unfathomable rage. In another snarl he looked back to Artie. Hadn't he dismissed him from his territory? Alistair snatched up the delicate book from the ground, threatening to dismember the book into pieces. Instead, with newfound strength he pitched it with aim towards the poor boy's head, though a trickle humanity had prevented the attack from hitting home. "I SAID GET OUT!" He screeched, foam starting to once more froth around his mouth.

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[ARTISAN KIM]

“NO!”

It was a high-pitched, indignant little screech. The chimera's lips were turned into a huffy looking pout, his arms were crossed, and he refused to move from his spot on the floor. Regardless of his state of mind, it was a very, very Artie-esque thing to do. Who the heck yells at a man on the verge of transforming into a monster? Apparently, it took the guts – or unwarranted stupidity – of a similar creature.

Just because he'd named Alistair his superior didn't mean he had to obey one-hundred percent of the things his master said. It was almost like the selective disobedience of guide dogs; if their master was walking into danger, they'd disobey orders in order to save their human's life. Honestly, Artie wasn't much different in that aspect.

As the book flew by his head, Artie gasped in shock – like a child awestruck at his peer saying a swearword. Within the limited workings of his head, the creature began to reason with himself: Clearly, master was not fit enough to govern himself. Therefore, it would be appropriate to take charge until master was well again!

Artie retrieved the book with a grumble and scolding glare in the other man's direction. He brought the book back up to Alistair, apparently oblivious to the poor ringmaster's shrieks and cries. “Bad, master!” he scolded, “Old. E-ex...extremely fragile. You say so.” Well, that was a sight to see: a chimera who could scarcely walk and talk was wagging his index finger back and forth, scolding his 'human' on how to take care of books. The circus really had it all. “Master...need help, yes?” he said, “Artie do good job.”

He nodded excitably, already feeling energetic over his new task. Oh, it was his turn to take care of Alistair instead of the other way around! That was something he could do! His eyes inverted again, becoming all black except for two silvery irises, so that he could see better between the two rooms. They shone with determination as he pointed to Alistair, much like a human would to a dog, and said: “Master, stay!”

The chimera scurried back into the bedroom. What in the world was he doing? The rustling of blankets and pillows could be heard from the bedroom, as well as some investigative sniffing. Finally, Artie came running back with nothing other than his raggedy teddy-bear. “Watch,” he ordered.

Chimeras were odd little creatures, weren't they? Happy yips and playful growling bubbled in Artie's throat as he rolled across the office floor, chewing and pouncing on the toy bear with delight. He almost forgot it was simply a demonstration, and not playtime itself! Artie took the bear into his jaws, shook his head a bit, then dropped the toy. Silver irises glowing in the darkness gazed at Alistair, and the dim light of a few dying candles illuminated the tongue poking out the corners of his lips and the tail wagging happily behind him. “How play!” he said.

Next, he took the bear into his arms and nuzzled the toy with his nose. Sometimes he'd squish his cheek against the toy or bury his face into its fabric. Watching the chimera display affection naturally was like watching someone demonstrate a long-lost art form. It was an action Artie had done many times before on Alistair, Lilly, Carter, PJ, hell...he'd even nuzzled strangers. “How love.”

He popped the bear back into his jaws, crawled over to Alistair – and gave the poor ringmaster a reassuring nuzzle himself, and dropped the teddy-bear onto his lap. Artie really was going to share one of his most prized possessions with Alistair?

“Now...Master's turn!”

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[ALISTAIR PYREWICK]

Now, the creature inside Alistair was by no means a domesticated animal that had the same psychological needs as a puppy like Artie. In fact, it hardly could have been called an animal at all. This aspect however had no merit on the fact that the true Alistair was heartened by the attempts at play. The vicious snarl melted into the usual blank expression that was trademark to Alistair. It was sort of funny that a source of comfort would be the void of emotion.

Though his calm exterior would fidget into a bewildered ugly grimace every few seconds, it appeared as if the more human Alistair was back to watch Artie's demonstration. In fact, he lowered his knees to sit in a criss-cross fashion. His crimson eyes traced slowly across the floor as the chimera rolled around. Even as a 'human', Alistair didn't understand the concept of play. His childhood had pretty much blown over his head- the only thing he could remember was always being a little man in a child's body. He never owned a toy, nor did he have much of an imagination.

Which explained why that, when he received the teddy bear, he hadn't the slightest clue what to do with it.

The look in his eyes made it clear that whatever shenanigans that Artie pulled was not a source of interest for him. Rolling around on the floor... Was that 'fun'? Alistair held the ratty bear up to his eyes before having a spasm that led his to drop the bear. The twitching ceased after a few seconds. After regaining himself, Alistair shrugged and held the bear out for the chimera. "It's yours," He assured in a small mumble, "I do not play."

Well, maybe just not with toys. Toys confused him. How could someone love something in such an intimate manner that can't love them back? The thought perplexed him. Of course, the opposite was true with real people and animals. He loved love. Love felt nice when he got it from other people. True, he wasn't an expert on it, but he was learning.

Quietly, Alistair scooted forward on his knees to sit directly across from Artie. He held it up once more, though the action had him 'blushing'. "Thank you, b-but I cannot play... At least not like this."

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